”BUGGED”

John sat by the campfire, finally able to relax. After a hard case with the sheriffs department he had decided to get away from it all for a spell.

He had spent the day fishing with Bruce at a secluded pond in the backwoods of northern Maine. It had been a dry sunny day but the cold damp feeling of rain was setting in quickly. With it came the mosquitoes prevalent to this area. Even with a liberal dose of Woodsmen’s insect repellant they were still biting.

John swatted and killed one and instantly went into a vision. It was an overpowering vision of multiple deaths. His body went into convulsions from the amount of horror in what he was seeing. It was like a mass exodus or genocide.

Bruce finally shook him out of it. “John what did you see?”

“I’m not sure, it was a vision of the front-end of a car, specifically the windshield and many deaths. I also heard the distinct maniacal voice of the driver screaming “die you little bastards die!!!” After that everything got all wet and a big rubber arm swept over me. I really need to go to the hospital and get checked out, I’m loosing it.“