The Mirror Room
The mirror room
This is another short horror story I wrote a little while ago.
I hope you like it.
This time it's much more of a ghost story:)
Word count: 1495
TW: Ghosts
With the soft flickering light of my candle I look upon the dark oaken wood door in front of me, regretting my willingness to do something this stupid.
It is already dark outside, so the only light in the whole mansion is that of time.
I'm staying over at my nieces place, she recently moved here in this old mansion. Our family is quite wealthy, so this isn't anything too strange for us.
I arrived this morning by carriage, the road was too rigid for an automobile. With a full suitcase in hand, I was greeted by my relatives. I am staying here for a week after all.
My niece and I spend the whole day looking at every nook and cranny of the old mansion. It was definitely built by some very rich people and most likely during the renaissance. Even so the condition it was in was immaculate like it was dust proof, or perhaps they just happen to have a witch or wizard as their cleaner.
I was shown around and told stories about each room, but there was one room my niece really wanted to show me. The room she said was magical.
The mirror room.
Carefully I open the old door with my still free hand, trying to not make any noise and accidentally wake up my uncle and aunt. They can be quite strict and if I get found out we will surely be punished, though my niece probably more than me. But still I don't want her to get into trouble and it was me who accepted her challenge.
When the door gently creaks open, a soft breeze blows out my candle.
That's strange.
The windows are supposed to be closed here, in fear of thieves and burglars.
I'm sure my uncle closed them before.
How did they open?
I enter the room and as I gently close the door behind me, it gives the same soft creek, although in reverse this time.
My niece was right, even at night this is the room with the most light, not by candle of course, but by the stars outside. They shine into the many mirrors, reflecting the tiny lights, creating this ghostly light. I know she said magical, but I find it somewhat unsettling, especially the fact that all the windows have been opened somehow.
As I cautiously walk towards the first window to close it, I look at the ceiling. It has been beautifully ornamented by a painting of the stars and small renaissance angels. With the soft echoing of my footsteps behind me on the black and white tiled floor I think to myself: this building is almost a half-palace.
During the day when my niece showed me this room, she was very excited and told me all sorts of stories about it. Way too fast, honestly, I could only understand the part of it that it may or may not have been a ballroom once and that many lavish parties have been thrown here. When she first told me that this was her favorite place in the whole mansion I honestly thought that it might be because she could see herself in the mirror. She is rather prideful of her appearance, taking ages to get ready.
She told me about the music she sometimes hears from this room and the talking of many merry people. Although when she enters the room, no one is there.
I don't get scared easily and am secretly also a bit curious, so she decided that it would be my job to investigate.
I look around.
I think I can see why now, the reason why this is her favorite room.
It is a clear night, the silver moon shines almost as bright as the sun and I can see thousands of stars sparkling the night sky with its colorful dust.
All of the sky's wonders let this silver, grey light into the room, creating a hauntingly beautiful place. Much, very much different from the one during the day.
The mirrors do their part, making the room look so much bigger than it actually is.
As I look around, the only other person I can see is my own reflections in the mirrors. Small, pale, almost dead because of the shadow the light creates on my face.
Carefully I walk towards the windows, all of them are wide open. Like they are inviting something in and the moon is inviting something out. Me?
Should I really be here?
At this time?
As quietly as possible I close the windows one by one.
When I am closing the last one... I hear something.
Whispering.
Footsteps.
It is behind me.
Quickly I turn around to see... no one.
Not my uncle or my aunt.
Not my niece trying to prank me.
Something is wrong, I am missing one other.
.
.
.
I am missing.
My reflection is not there.
It starts getting colder.
It turns my breath into small silver clouds.
I rub my hands together for warmth, but I can't get much out of it.
Since the last window is not completely closed yet, I turn around and close it fast with a soft THUD.
Again there is the sound of whispers behind me, closer this time. Like they are just a couple of steps away.
Swiftly I turn around again, just to be greeted by the empty mirrors again.
"Is someone there?" I ask, instantly regretting it.
There shouldn't be anyone.
I am alone.
I am really alone.
There is no one else.
Just me in this empty room.
Calming myself doesn't seem to work that well.
All of a sudden all the windows open and smash closed in unison.
Startled, I run towards the entrance, the old oak door.
I try to open the door, but it is locked.
As I panic I start pounding on the door and calling for my aunt and uncle like crazy.
No answer, everyone is asleep of course.
No one can hear me.
No one can help me.
The light in the room starts acting weird and I look up.
It is coming from the ceiling now, all the stars are glowing.
It is like it took the light from outside, since there is no light coming from outside anymore. Just pitch black darkness.
Even the moon has gone.
Those are not the only things that are wrong.
The angels on the ceiling.
They are watching me.
Following me with their eyes.
As I turn towards the mirrors, there is one with the moon still reflected in it.
Not knowing what to do I slowly walk towards it, preparing myself for anything that might jump at me.
Nothing seems to happen for a long time and I decide that it is safe enough for me to check the mirror.
Gently I place my palm against the cold surface.
It is getting even colder now, my own body feels like stone.
Then a shadow passes in the mirror... or did I just imagine it?
No I didn't.
They really are there. They are with many and I can't predict their next move. There is one for each mirror.
Wait, where is the rest of the room?
I am only surrounded by mirrors.
No windows.
No door.
Just me and the shadows from the mirrors.
The shadows have somewhat the shape of human beings, but just not right. All seem to be cloaked.
Then they float out of their mirrors.
I am surrounded.
As they get closer, my panic grows.
Closer.
Closer.
Closer.
Using my candle without a flame as a weapon I try to escape.
But they keep coming.
As I try to hit them it just goes right through.
I hit.
I kick.
I scream.
They won't let go.
One of them starts getting really close to my face.
I can see it.
The ash grey skin.
The holes for eyes and mouth are much too big.
The eyes and mouth are filled with an endless abyss.
Still I keep on fighting.
They take me by my arms and legs.
Then my throat.
I scream until I can't anymore.
Until it is so squeezed shut, I can't even breathe.
They lift me up and I can see more of their inhuman faces.
Closer.
Closer.
Without stopping.
What do they want from me?
My vision gets overrun with dark spots.
Is this the end?
The strength in my arms is gone, I can't hit anymore.
Help...
The strength in my legs is gone, fighting is impossible now.
Please, someone help me!
Then as if by magic a violin starts playing on the other side of the room.
Unlike before the shadows now gently place me on the cold floor.
I can breathe again.
Gasping for air and shivering from the cold and fear, I quickly get up.
My head is pounding and so is my heart.
The stars on the ceiling start shining brighter, chasing away the dark shadows and brightening up the room like a lamp would.
As I look at my surroundings, I see that the shadows from before are now gone.
Instead there are a lot of festively dressed people, all of them are wearing masks.
The violin is still playing.
The sound of the instrument is a bit more livelier than before.
One of the masked people approaches me.
A girl around the same age as me.
"I'm sorry, we don't get visitors that often. They aren't used to it." She says in a soft voice.
She smiles at me, but I can't see if her eyes do.
Slowly, as if trying not to scare me, the girl stretches out her hand to me.
"Would you like to dance with me?"
More Posts from Ardenla and Others
in the rain
A short horror story I wrote last year, I'm surprised to find out I hadn't posted it here before.
Word count: 1848
TW: psychological horror
The sound of the gentle tapping of the rain on my window awakens me.
Just by glancing over at the window I can see the dark autumn sky even though it must still be around noon.
Slowly I get up from the couch, I must have dozed off for a minute or so.
I walk over to my kitchen to see if there is anything to eat.
Opening all the cabinets and finally the freezer, I discover that I'm all out of food.
Damn, I forgot, it's grocery day today... and I still have to go out with this shitty weather.
Still I ready myself to go outside, I take my dark green raincoat and a bag.
I put on my shoes and finally leave, locking the door behind me, walking towards the nearest bus stop.
I know I'm being lazy, walking that distance can be done in about half an hour, but still this weather seems to only be getting worse.
As I turn around to face the weather I feel the cool breeze going through my coat and the water gliding off my face.
A greeting from the outside, a cold and wet greeting.
Quickly I make a run for the bus stop.
Each time one of my feet hit the middle of a puddle, the water flies around me, making me feel like a little kid playing in the rain.
It takes a couple of minutes for me to reach the small square hut, known locally as the bus stop.
I live in the middle of nowhere anyway.
As I finally lay eyes on it I almost dive for cover under the roof.
I know it doesn't really matter, I'm already soaked, but still, it brings me comfort.
Immediately I notice that I'm not alone.
Someone else is standing beside me.
Most likely also waiting for the bus to come.
Their face is obscured by their coat... Their dark green coat.
Did he get it at the same store as me?
For a while we awkwardly stand next to each other, not speaking a word, or perhaps letting the rain itself do the talking.
Cold seconds pass slowly and eventually I can't take it anymore.
"So... uhh... the weather is pretty bad, éh?"
I know the question is bad, small talk is not everyone's favorite, but worse than that, I don't get a response at all.
And we are back at listening to the rain and just standing next to one another, but this one more awkwardly than before.
The person next to me didn't show any sign of even hearing me.
Finally the bus arrives and I get on.
I look back, but the person behind me doesn't seem to be moving in the slightest.
Does he even breathe? I really can't tell.
"Hey man? Didn't you need to take the bus too?" I call over to him, gesturing that he can go in, but again he doesn't move at all.
I shake my head and then turn it towards the bus driver.
Unlike the usual uniform, they seem to be wearing another dark green raincoat. Almost exactly like mine, or perhaps it's completely the same...
I show the chauffeur my ticket, but he doesn't move a muscle.
Quietly I turn around to look further inside the vehicle.
It's almost completely empty, except for a few strangers dressed with the same dark green jacket.
For a moment I hesitate.
Do I really want to be on this bus?
But then the squeaking doors behind me close, cutting off my only escape route.
Obediently I take a seat, trying not to look around me and just stare out of the window.
When the bus finally comes to a halt at my stop I get out as fast as I can.
Strangely enough this is the first stop it made, no one got on and no one got off.
As I step outside, I am greeted by more rain, falling down even heavier than before.
Quickly I race towards the store and feel a sense of relief wash over me as I finally reach the entrance and hear the familiar chime.
The bright light hurts my eyes, it's a lot brighter than outside after all.
I let out a shivering sigh from the cold. It might be less warm here than outside, or perhaps it's because of how wet my clothes have gotten.
The water has gone right through my coat after all.
I notice my breath leaving my mouth in small clouds and rub my hands together for some warmth.
I guess it must be cold here after all.
Carefully I look around, it seems that I'm the only customer inside the store.
I should probably hurry up, I'm not sure if there will be many buses leaving after I'm done with shopping.
I take a shopping cart and start to move around the store.
Taking with me things for breakfast, things for lunch, things for dinner and of course some snacks.
Eventually I find myself next to an aisle that's entirely empty.
"How strange..." I mutter to myself: "I was sure these were filled just last week..."
I take a few steps back, towards the fridges where they keep milk and stuff.
Something about it seems off.
Carefully I take a closer look.
It looks like all the cartons of milk from the highest shelf to the lowest have all been cut in half in a straight row.
No, cut isn't the word.
More like half of it has been melted off.
The contents are spilled all over the floor.
As I inspect the next row, I see that these all have half-faded packaging.
I look up to find a huge dark stain on the ceiling above it, water is slowly dripping down onto those products and the floor.
It's almost as if the rain is washing it all away.
Quickly I leave for the check-out and find another one behind the counter.
A person, dressed with the same raincoat as mine, somehow still with a faded nametag on their chest, too faded to read.
Honestly it looks a bit silly.
Their hood is up and they look down, causing me to be unable to see their face just like with the others before.
I greet the 'worker' like normal even though he doesn't move at all and I hand them the money, which they don't take either, so I place it before them.
"Keep the change." I say, trying to joke away the fear I feel inside.
That is the truth after all.
I'm scared.
I'm terrified.
I'm terrified, but I don't want to let it show.
Everything about this day has been strange.
Normally I don't fall asleep during the day, normally I don't take the bus to the store, normally I don't stand waiting for a bus with a stranger...
Then there's the fact I haven't seen a single familiar face since I woke up. Why isn't anyone here when usually this store is filled with people I know?
I pick up the pace, too scared to look behind me.
What if they did move?
What if they did move, but only if I wasn't facing them.
What if they were right behind me, staring at me from underneath those hoods?
What if they wanted to do something to me?
I shake my head and enter the rainy and windy outside world again.
The rainfall has gotten even heavier.
I can barely keep my eyes open from all the water pouring down, only able to open them again as I blindly enter the bus stop.
This time I'm alone.
Though I doubt if that really is the case.
I mean, what if they're watching?
While waiting for the bus to come I look at my sleeve.
The dark green fabric has been completely soaked.
Why is it that we all wear the same? I think to myself.
Where and when did I even buy such an ugly thing?
I have another one, a blue one... right?
No, now that I think about it I'm not so sure.
This rain... it's making it difficult to remember.
The bus finally arrives for me to go home again.
Trying to avoid the spats coming from the sky, but failing, I enter the vehicle.
It's cold here too.
Like in the store small clouds leave my shivering mouth.
I look at the driver.
It's one of them again.
Or am I supposed to be one of them?
My coat shows our resemblance.
My hood is still up too.
I take it off and smile at the driver.
"Good afternoon sir, bad weather we're having, don't we?"
Suddenly I hear something moving in the back of the bus.
Multiple people dressed like me are sitting there, more than before.
All of them seem to stare at me from underneath their dark hoods.
I smile at them too, but now that I'm looking at them too they have stopped moving again completely.
The door behind me closes and I take a seat.
Everything feels so unwelcoming, it makes me feel a bit sad.
Looking outside of the window I appreciate the beautifully dreary scenery from my home.
It looks like the water levels have been rising far.
Much further than it normally would.
Almost like the water is trying to swallow it all up.
I'm glad I live up high.
We drive past a small cliff.
I look down at the water through the window.
The rain is still relentlessly hitting the windows, coming down unforgivingly at the windows, making me scared that it could shatter them any moment.
It has become a droning noise overtaking any thought I might have had as suddenly, I feel light.
Everything starts feels like going in hyper speed.
The bus has made a turn.
A turn off the cliff.
And we hit the water before I even realized what was going on.
It's all going so fast and yet, none of them moved even an inch.
All of the other 'passengers' keep sitting the way they sat before, not even trembling because of the fall. Making it look like they were plastic figures glued to their respective benches.
Windows break and water starts to pour in even faster than the rain.
Loudly I curse and get up from my seat in a daze.
My head is pounding terribly, did I hit something?
I'm not sure.
It just hurts.
The vehicle starts to sink and I start to panic.
A heavy tree branch falls through one of the small windows in the ceiling.
I jump back, but then see that it has shattered the entire window and created a way for me to get out.
The water is rising higher and higher and I reach for the window.
Now the people in the bus do start to move.
In a strange and shocking way.
Moving like they have never used a limb before.
Crawling around, stumbling around, a strange form of swimming.
Shit!
They're coming for me!
They're coming for me!!
They get closer and closer with their strange movements.
Trying to wrap their arms around me.
As I feel their freezing cold fingers touch me I kick around me as hard as I can.
"Stay away!" I yell: "Stay the Hell away!!"
Desperately I hold on to the branch.
The first few already have their hands wrapped around my ankles.
"Let me go!!!" I yell, kicking and screaming.
More hands.
And then they start to grip and pull.
The gray light from the sky starts to grow distant, my head is getting closer to the water.
The heavy rain has started pushing me down now too.
Pushing back my hands, letting me slide back down.
I've never seen or even felt a rain storm this heavy, it feels like it's trying to get rid of me.
Trying to clean this place by getting rid of me.
Like a ghost town being washed away by the rain...
Book of the apocalypse - Chapter 3
Chapter 3: Farren - Book of the apocalypse
(This chapter has a different protagonist)
TW: Gore, psychological horror, spiders, depressing theme's
Word count: 1111
First chapter:
"Book of the apocalypse"
What is an apocalypse?
The dictionary will probably tell you something like:
Apocalypse
The complete destruction of the world or an event involving destruction or damage on a catastrophic scale.
Movies will probably talk mostly about zombie apocalypses in which the world has been taken over by flesh eating monsters.
But then I wonder...
Does there exist something like a quiet apocalypse?
Perhaps a personal apocalypse?
One in which life as we know it is destroyed for maybe even a single person.
Or perhaps it is the silent self-destruction of the world itself.
Slowly killing itself, wrapping itself in plastic until breathing becomes impossible.
Willingly suffocating itself.
Because it had always wished for death.
For silence.
For peace.
For the end.
For now you may call me Farren.
I believe that the world I live in is one of a silent apocalypse.
One in which humanity itself decides to extinguish their own flame.
A mind destroying apocalypse.
All the while acting as if nothing is wrong and everything is going great.
And perhaps it really does make some people happy.
Perhaps they want to see the end... and they might want to see it really soon.
My world is one of constant loneliness.
I'm surrounded by many people.
They walk past me without even batting an eye.
Well it's not like I am the one paying attention to them.
No, I'm just like them.
Isolated.
Alone.
Uncaring.
A cog in a machine that's killing itself off joyfully.
This story is about the apocalypse during a time of computers.
An apocalypse so silent no one notices.
And even those that do, try to ignore it.
To be born in a time like this truly seems unfair.
After all, I live in a world in which doing something else is seen as weird, insane or wrong.
Well then again, it's not like I care that much either.
I'm not brave, nor smart.
And rebelliousness is something that can be seen as the polar opposite of me.
Just like most, I work in this society like an ant.
An ant who does nothing else but what it's told.
There are moments though, moments in which I truly regret it all.
My life choices, my weaknesses, my birth.
If I had done this differently, then maybe I would have had a better position at my job.
Maybe if I had been less shy I could have made friends who would stay with me.
Maybe if I hadn't been born, the world wouldn't be this insufferable.
Well nothing I can change about it now, I too am stuck in my own personal bubble.
A friendless, lowly bubble.
Yet somehow still desperate enough to keep on surviving.
The sudden sound of my alarm clock awakens me from my daydreams.
Crap! If only I had paid better attention to the time, I might have finished more...
Well, again, nothing to be done about it.
I guess I just have to work harder tomorrow.
"Hey Farren!" A loud voice that immediately gives me shivers comes from behind me.
It's the manager of my floor.
Carefully I turn around, whilst trying to hide my trembling hand.
"Y-yes?"
Shit, I screwed up already.
"It's 'yes sir', for you."
Yes, he's pissed.
"Sorry s-sir."
He looks down at me almost like he sees before him not a human being, but instead a cockroach.
Or perhaps more something like dog poop.
Well, anyway, he doesn't try to hide the look of disgust on his face as he speaks to me, even keeping his distance to protect himself against the smell of the dog poop or the moving cockroach.
"You should know what this is going to be about."
His eyes stare threateningly into mine.
"Is this about yesterday, or..."
Honestly I have no clue, but it's better to guess than to admit it with him.
"Not just yesterday, lately Farren, lately."
"I should work faster...?"
God, I'm hopeless, especially now that fear has taken a hold of me.
Desperately I seek for an answer around me, while trying to avoid eye-contact.
"Like hell! You've been so slow lately, just what is your problem?!"
Thank God I guessed right.
"I-" I try, but he doesn't let me finish.
"No excuses, you should try to be more like Kathan. Great guy always on time at work and with his work."
"Kathan the intern?"
"So what, he does this a thousand times more efficiently than you."
Kathan is our unpaid intern, that's what I want to say followed by: of course he is better, because he literally works for free. But luckily I'm able to hold my tongue at the right time.
"I will do so, sir." I reply automatically, but it doesn't seem good enough for him.
He's always like this, belittling those he sees as lesser than him.
Makes me wonder if he talks like this to his wife and kids too.
"You know, I let you stay out of the goodness of my heart, even though you're older than most people I hire."
Bullshit, hearing that coming out of the mouth of a man at least twice my age sounds really weird.
Old? Yeah, to a teenager. I'm in my twenties, the manager is in his forties or fifties.
He just doesn't like me because I get paid almost as much as him, more than a sixteen-year old.
Also, he wasn't the person who hired me. It was our old CEO, who did care.
The floor manager continues his rant: "If you keep going like this, I will have no choice but to fire you."
I nod: "Yes sir, I understand."
Perhaps it's time for me to start looking for another job again.
Sucks, I've been working here for a couple of years now and even though the manager sucks, other things are okay.
Well...
I've avoided the bullying for now...
It's really stupid, when you enter the adult world, you learn how childish people can really be.
After his rant is finally finished, he lets me leave.
Kathan seems to have seen it all and wants to walk over to me, but I act as if I didn't notice and hurry out of the building.
I don't want to be pitied.
Exhausted, I take the train back home to my apartment.
It's a bit run-down, the building, but at least I have a place to sleep, shower and cook.
Even if all is just in two small rooms.
As I look outside I can see the dreary cityscape, reminding me how hopeless this world really is.
I drop myself on the couch (that's also my bed) and turn on the tv.
I watch video after video, mindlessly, not listening to anything.
Because in truth it really is just background noise to make my brain stop thinking unwanted thoughts.
After a while I look at the clock and notice that it's almost one in the morning.
I turn off the tv and fall asleep.
The loud noise of my morning alarm wakes me up again and I'm reminded that I haven't eaten since yesterday lunch.
Quickly I take a soda from the fridge and drink it.
The chance of me being late to work today is pretty high, so I rush out of the building without looking back.
Book of the apocalypse
I've recently started posting a new book I'm writing on wattpad and I was wondering if there are people who might be interested in me posting it here on tumblr.
The story is about someone trying to survive on their own in a zombie apocalypse and ends up finding themself drawn to a book they find.
Anyway here are the prologue and the first chapter, please let me know what you think:
TW: Gore, psycological horror, spiders, depressing theme's
Word count: 673(prologue)+1800(Chapter 1)
It's dark.
An oppressive silence prevails.
Only to those who live close to the ground, a loud rhythmic noise can be heard.
This is of course exclusive for those like mice and creatures much smaller.
Creatures with a good sense of hearing.
To a cat or a dog it might still be audible, though they would probably only hear a soft tapping.
Something tapping across the floor at an almost unearthly speed.
Driven by something unknown to any breathing kind.
Yet somehow able to scare away those creatures with incredible hearing.
The tapping is the true sound of doom.
The ticking across the floor clearly means nothing less than death.
The tapping is that of many small insects.
Insects moving strangely in unison.
Insects all move in the same manner, as if not multiple but just one creature.
The ticking races onto a metal shelf and stops there for about a second.
To those with the good ears, they might catch something sounding closely like something's scraping the metal.
Or better... something eating the cold metal.
If you were to hold a light there and perhaps something like a microscope, you might spot some of the small scratches made on the metallic surface. Since they are so difficult to spot.
As the second passed the small insects continue their journey once more.
A loud noise can be registered by them, vibrations can be felt and they immediately stop in their tracks.
A person, a human, has come into the room.
Loudly to the insects, quietly to the human.
His heart makes the loudest, yet calmest noise.
A noise of comfort.
The man does not care or know that he's being watched.
He turns on a light and the insects start sprinting towards him.
The light shows what they are.
Their truest nature.
Small spiders, about half an inch per length, excluding their many thin legs.
The legs that made the tapping noise.
Small red eyes, seemingly scanning their surroundings effortlessly in high speed.
But the light shows something else about them.
Something else that is wrong.
They are in fact not any natural kind of spiders.
They're mechanical.
The light turns them into small flashes of silver.
If you were to inspect them up close with a magnifying glass, you might even spot very tiny screws and threads across their bodies.
The spiders leap and like some of the kind they're meant to represent, they almost seem to be able to fly.
The man has noticed them now too, but far too late.
The small man-made insects have already landed on his bare forearms.
He quickly tries to remove them with his big hands, which he is successful with only a few.
About two thirds are still on him and have decided to dig themselves into the skin of their prey.
The man yells for help and another one comes, just in time for those who had fallen back on the floor.
For some strange reason, there seem to be more of them now, it's like the spiders have copied themselves many times over. Perhaps with the help of the metal they had been 'eating' before.
The first man can feel the spiders move underneath his skin, climbing and digging their way further up his body.
Looking closer you should be able to see them move as little lumps through his flesh, they don't go too deep, well not at first at least.
Further and further they go.
They have a mission.
At least if you could call it that.
Crawling further without a moment of rest, almost oblivious to the panicking man trying to stab them with the help of a knife.
An ambulance has already been called and is on its way.
Too late, too late.
The small spiders make their way into his neck.
Mercilessly they continue.
As they finally reach their goal.
The head.
The brain.
Now they do dig deeper and deeper.
All the small spiders secretly and silently communicate to one another strange messages, such as: 'OUT OF CONTROL HUMAN' and 'ERROR'.
They had been made in order to help human beings, but ended up being the defining factor of their decline and deaths.
The spiders all drugged and changed people so much that they turned into nothing more than zombies.
Devouring the flesh of others without a hint of sadness.
The minds of these people were lost completely.
Chapter 1:
Grass.
Buildings.
Cars.
More grass.
Plants.
Metal.
What are these called again?
It's morning.
I'm thinking about words.
Thinking in words... it's been getting more and more difficult.
Am I going to lose them?
Train racks...?
No, train tracks! Those are train tracks!
It's morning and I'm living.
I'm alive... I think.
I'm alone.
There was something about mornings... right?
People counted them?
Back in the old times... I think.
Now mankind has long stopped counting the years.
If there even is something I can call mankind.
For all I know they have all but me died out, leaving me alone in this dark and dangerous world. The only one who can protect me is myself.
The only reliable one in this world is myself.
The only one making sure I don't end up like one of the monsters, is again myself.
Even with the fact that the world has practically ended for my kind, the sun still rises and after a while, it goes down again.
If you want to know how this all started, you're asking the wrong person.
Because I don't care.
Surviving till the next day is the only thing left on my agenda.
Even though dying might seem nice, becoming one of those things would be horrible.
I glance out of the window from the old train, watching the rising sun, all the while clutching the handle of my spear.
I made the thing myself so it's pretty shabby looking, but at least it does the job right and keeps the monsters at a distance.
Quietly and swiftly I leave the dark, abandoned vehicle.
If I stay here any longer they might find out after all.
Vigilantly I follow the tracks to the station, ready to fight or flight at any moment.
Those hungry bastards aren't getting me for dinner!
I won't be their prize nor the one they might see as a hero.
Though I highly doubt that they are able to either 'see' or 'think'.
As I walk into the broken down, but still dark train station I notice that even though it's in a bad shape. It still has some beauty in it.
It's an old train station, most of the part that has collapsed is the newer, later build-on part.
The old part is still standing strong.
Yes, most of the stained glass is broken, but the ornamented walls are still clearly visible.
Somehow giving me this really nostalgic feeling, to a time unknown to me.
I shake my head, It's not the time to be in awe with old junk, it's all useless now after all.
Making sure that nothing is around, I climb onto one of the platforms.
As I wander around I suddenly notice a strange object on one of the still intact benches.
Somehow it draws my complete attention, I cannot help myself but to investigate it.
I hold my spear before me, so if it moves, I can kill it immediately.
Step by step I get closer.
Is it dangerous?
Is it edible?
A million wordless questions race around in my mind, but none of them ask the right one.
Carefully I take the object in hand.
It's a book, my inner voice tells me.
It's a leather bound book.
Old, but still intact.
Without thinking I open it.
Not even the spiders have taken it, that's weird.
As I see the first page, something is hand-written on the bottom. It takes a moment to understand what it says: 'EX Libris: Q. F. Shannon'
This must have been the name of the previous owner.
I wonder what happened to them.
Though that is completely unimportant.
I turn a couple of pages and find more small black words scribbled on them in a strange form of...writing.
They make me feel... lightheaded... that's the word... right?
Suddenly I sense a presence behind me.
I take out my weapon and attack whatever is standing there.
Somehow it goes right through...
I can feel my heart pumping quickly.
Cold sweat slowly makes its way down my neck and back.
"Good morning." A strange voice out of nowhere says to me.
It's... speaking... human speech...
It's speaking to me.
Shocked by the sound, the voice of another human being, for the first time in a long, very long while, I turn around and point at them with my spear.
It's a strange person, wearing some kind of old and strange costume. One from the lost time.
Without speaking I threaten them with my weapon.
They are unlike me.
My spear should have hurt them... but it went right through!
I can't trust them!
I can't trust them!!
Distrust washes over me.
How could someone still be alive?
And be dressed like that?!
"Please, I mean no harm." The person says while holding up their arms
I don't answer and only stare at them with contempt.
Only now I've noticed that I've dropped the book as the person is looking at it.
Have the spiders evolved this much? Or have I finally lost my mind?
I swallow, scared of what to do next.
The thing before me tries to comfort me: "I'm not real."
"What... does that... mean?" I ask, having difficulty speaking, hurting my throat in the process of creating words.
The creature nods: "I'm imaginary. I'm simply something you made up. An Imaginary friend if you will."
Friend...?
What did that mean again?
Something about that word makes me agitated.
Something about that word makes me angry.
Something about that word makes me want to cry.
Something about that word makes me want to scream...
"Don't... You aren't that... I don't think..." I mumble.
They smile at me: "Well then, I'm Quiller. You may call me that or just mister or... something else, if my name is too difficult."
He looks at me as if waiting for an answer, but I don't.
"So what is your name?"
I think.
I think deeply.
At first I'm not sure what he means by the word 'name'.
Then a bad memory fills my head and just in time I'm able to shake it away.
It's been a long time since I had something of a name.
I remember that I was called something too, it was normal back in the day.
Back when there were still other people in the world.
I press my hand against my chest "...Don." I whisper: "I was called... that... I think."
Quiller gives me another smile: "That's a wonderful name, nice to make your acquaintance." He stretches out a hand and I stare at it.
"You... are supposed to shake it..." He says as he scratches the back of his neck with his other hand.
"Shake? But won't... it go through?"
His expression turns to one of pain: "Yeah, sorry. You're right." He takes back his hand.
I take the book from the ground.
"That looks interesting." He sounds surprised.
"I found it, it's mine." For some reason I'm clutching the heavy object against my chest as if it's my long lost treasure. Honestly I don't know why. But it feels like... I have to keep it with me.
"So you're going to read it?"
I skim through the pages, they're made of paper.
"It...would make for a good fire-starter."
Quiller's expression turns horrified: "Wait, no! You can't do that!"
"Why?"
"It holds someone's memory!"
"Memory?"
"Yes, every book is written by someone. They write it with their love, their hate, their life, their passion, their dreams. Never take another person's work too light."
Gibberish he seems to speak.
"Are you... one of them?" I ask nudging back somewhere.
He sighs: "No, of course not. Have I been trying to eat you since I met you?"
I just stare at him confused.
He takes another look at the book: "I... think I know that book."
I look at him questioningly.
"Maybe you should try to read it, it has a pretty good story. You can read, yes?"
"I'm able to read ingredients from food."
He laughs awkwardly: "Well that's a start..."
Without much care I put the book in my backpack and I continue my search.
It feels strange to have someone that at least seems to be real and walking close by, especially since he doesn't seem to be hostile in any way shape or form. What most things are.
I will keep a close eye on him, I don't really understand why I'm seeing him and I don't have another person like me here to check if I'm really making it all up in my mind.
It really does seem like the most reality-based explanation right now, I've been alone for a long time now.
I vaguely remember a story about someone befriending an object to stay sane after being alone for a very long time. It is said to be normal when someone is lonely.
But even so, is that really the case right now?
While scouting out the area, it suddenly starts to rain outside.
I guess I have no other choice but to stay the night.
As we walk into the inside part of the station I suddenly notice a couple of them, standing closely to the rooms that once had probably been stores.
Their bodies made of a combination of rotting flesh, metal wiring and some of them have something like mos growing over their heads and shoulders. Water slowly dripping from their horrible monsterous bodies.
Luckily they're standing far away, staring into space and not having noticed me yet.
Sometimes they shake in the strange way they usually do and return to staring.
It reminds me a bit of how they used to be when all of this started, back then they were out to kill every last human. Back then they rarely stood this still.
I guess since most people have died, they don't have much to do anymore, so staring is probably the only thing they can do.
Staring and standing.
It makes me wonder if they think...
No, that can't be true.
Monsters like that must be unable to think, if they do it must be about devouring the innocent and weak.
"Hey."Quiller whispers: "You should probably head the other way, they don't look very nice."
They don't look very nice? Is he oblivious to what happened? Does he not know?
Didn't he mention knowing of it before though? Well I should ask him later.
Now is not the time.
I tiptoe away from the creatures, making sure not to make a single sound.
When it all went down, I taught myself a new way of walking which was a lot quieter than how I used to.
Now it's second nature to me, I don't walk any other way now.
Well, okay, if I have to run, I run and sound doesn't really matter if there is something out there that wants to rip you apart.
I take the stairs to the second floor, scanning my surroundings thoroughly.
More old, empty shops and a lookout onto the platforms and surrounding area.
"Do you think I could go further up?" I ask the strangely clothed man.
"Well yeah, this building is old and even has a clock-tower. Maybe we should try getting in there?"
I nod approving, maybe he might be useful after all.
It doesn't take long for us to find a small hidden passageway.
"It should be through here." Quiller says to me.
I look at the narrow door in the ceiling and shake my head.
I hate small spaces, I would rather get there by climbing from the outside.
I look outside but am only greeted by the heavy rainfall, it's almost like the clouds are laughing at me.
Laughing at the fact that I'm scared.
And I hate them for it.
Next chapter:
Hidden ritual
A short horror story I wrote a while back:)
Word count: 888
TW: Blood
In truth I've always known that the house I live in is haunted.
The soft sounds of soft footsteps when you're home alone, the whispers when the house is empty...
You know all the signs.
All have been told before already after all.
We were just lucky that it never got worse than that, yes sometimes small objects would have been placed elsewhere, but we never got the feeling that we were dealing with something that was dangerous or angry.
So we just let it be, whatever it was.
Then one day, one of the kids was playing in the room with a tennis ball, I told them not to, but they did so anyway.
The ball bounced around the room, first hitting the floor, then the walls, then the ceiling and then it went into the hallway.
Full force it smashed itself through one of the walls.
I scolded my child, because we heard something break and then we quickly went to assess the damage.
And there it was, a hole as big as the ball itself showed a dark space behind the wall under the stairs.
"What's behind this?" My child asked me and even though I was angry I found myself to be curious about it as well.
I went to get a flashlight and shined it inside.
Something had been painted, or maybe written, but all was unreadable.
I didn't remember any room with such writing in it, for all I knew there shouldn't even be a room behind this wall.
After the whole family had gathered under the stairs, I decided to take out a hammer and see what could possibly be behind it.
BANG!
BANG!!
BANG!!!
The hole was now big enough to see through.
I took out the flashlight again and shone its light inside to reveal...
A person.
A person, as pale as a ghost, unmoving, perhaps even unbreathing.
A person lying in a coffin without a lid.
A person dressed strangely old fashioned.
"Don't look children." My wife tried to have our kids close their eyes.
We immediately took to the phone and called the police.
The entire wall was getting broken down now and shortly after they told me that the person in the coffin was in fact deceased. From the look of it, it hadn't been very long ago either.
All of us got questioned, but of course none of us knew.
That wall had been sealed off far before we started living here and none of us knew of any other way in.
The same day we were allowed to leave the station and stay with the neighbors, a nice elderly couple.
Even before these events my children have seen them as their grandparents, it wouldn't be possible for them to have committed such a heinous crime in our home.
I did tell them about what happened, but they seemed just as surprised as we had been when we found it.
The next day I decided to check up on how it was going, only to not find a single police officer there anymore.
"What's going on here?" I asked the people inside my house, to which they replied that they were archeologists sent by the police to investigate.
The strange story they told me was something about the fact that the corpse had actually been there much, much longer than we had initially thought.
The body had been lying there for centuries, the archeologists suspected that the walls might have been sealed shut in a way to make it air-tight. That way no bacteria would have been able to grow nor live there, making it impossible for the body to decompose.
It didn't take long until we were allowed to go back again, we weren't sure if that was something to be happy about, but we still did so anyway.
The first night we went back, none of us were able to sleep, so we let the kids sleep with us in our bed. Luckily all of them are still rather young, so it all just fitted.
When I finally fell asleep I had the strangest dream, I was sitting in my room, but unlike how it was, it was completely empty.
There was a knock on the door I was facing.
"Come in." I answered and silently the door opened to show a figure behind it, somehow the person looked familiar, but I couldn't seem to remember them.
The next night I dreamed that I was looking at a ceiling that had been chalked up with the strange writing I had seen in the space under the stairs before.
Not much else happened in that dream, but it felt strangely eerie.
Then on the third night I dreamed that I was walking in the hallway, someone was behind me, a woman that somehow resembled my wife.
She held a knife.
At the moment I turned around, the weapon was already stuck in my chest.
Glistering red victoriously.
The day afterwards I decided to talk to some of the archeologists and asked if they knew anything about the writing was on the walls.
I was told that their translator had found out that it somewhat looked like a ritual of some sort.
It might even have been a ritual of resurrection.
As you might believe I had too many questions to ask and very few answers to it, since all of it was still being investigated.
I decided to talk about it with my wife and as I did she suddenly said something strange:
"He really looks like you, doesn't he?"
"Who do you mean?"
"The man in the coffin."
Book cover I made
This is a book cover I made for a book I finished writing last month.
If you were to find this within a bookstore, what would your thoughts be? What do you think it's about?
in the rain
A short horror story I wrote
Word count: 1848
TW: Blood, death, confusion
The sound of the gentle tapping of the rain on my window awakens me.
Just by glancing over at the window I can see the dark autumn sky even though it must still be around noon.
Slowly I get up from the couch, I must have dozed off for a minute or so.
I walk over to my kitchen to see if there is anything to eat.
Opening all the cabinets and finally the freezer, I discover that I'm all out of food.
Damn, I forgot, it's grocery day today... and I still have to go out with this shitty weather.
Still I ready myself to go outside, I take my dark green raincoat and a bag.
I put on my shoes and finally leave, locking the door behind me, walking towards the nearest bus stop.
I know I'm being lazy, walking that distance can be done in about half an hour, but still this weather seems to only be getting worse.
As I turn around to face the weather I feel the cool breeze going through my coat and the water gliding off my face.
A greeting from the outside, a cold and wet greeting.
Quickly I make a run for the bus stop.
Each time one of my feet hit the middle of a puddle, the water flies around me, making me feel like a little kid playing in the rain.
It takes a couple of minutes for me to reach the small square hut, known locally as the bus stop.
I live in the middle of nowhere anyway.
As I finally lay eyes on it I almost dive for cover under the roof.
I know it doesn't really matter, I'm already soaked, but still, it brings me comfort.
Immediately I notice that I'm not alone.
Someone else is standing beside me.
Most likely also waiting for the bus to come.
Their face is obscured by their coat... Their dark green coat.
Did he get it at the same store as me?
For a while we awkwardly stand next to each other, not speaking a word, or perhaps letting the rain itself do the talking.
Cold seconds pass slowly and eventually I can't take it anymore.
"So... uhh... the weather is pretty bad, éh?"
I know the question is bad, small talk is not everyone's favorite, but worse than that, I don't get a response at all.
And we are back at listening to the rain and just standing next to one another, but this one more awkwardly than before.
The person next to me didn't show any sign of even hearing me.
Finally the bus arrives and I get on.
I look back, but the person behind me doesn't seem to be moving in the slightest.
Does he even breathe? I really can't tell.
"Hey man? Didn't you need to take the bus too?" I call over to him, gesturing that he can go in, but again he doesn't move at all.
I shake my head and then turn it towards the bus driver.
Unlike the usual uniform, they seem to be wearing another dark green raincoat. Almost exactly like mine, or perhaps it's completely the same...
I show the chauffeur my ticket, but he doesn't move a muscle.
Quietly I turn around to look further inside the vehicle.
It's almost completely empty, except for a few strangers dressed with the same dark green jacket.
For a moment I hesitate.
Do I really want to be on this bus?
But then the squeaking doors behind me close, cutting off my only escape route.
Obediently I take a seat, trying not to look around me and just stare out of the window.
When the bus finally comes to a halt at my stop I get out as fast as I can.
Strangely enough this is the first stop it made, no one got on and no one got off.
As I step outside, I am greeted by more rain, falling down even heavier than before.
Quickly I race towards the store and feel a sense of relief wash over me as I finally reach the entrance and hear the familiar chime.
The bright light hurts my eyes, it's a lot brighter than outside after all.
I let out a shivering sigh from the cold. It might be less warm here than outside, or perhaps it's because of how wet my clothes have gotten.
The water has gone right through my coat after all.
I notice my breath leaving my mouth in small clouds and rub my hands together for some warmth.
I guess it must be cold here after all.
Carefully I look around, it seems that I'm the only customer inside the store.
I should probably hurry up, I'm not sure if there will be many buses leaving after I'm done with shopping.
I take a shopping cart and start to move around the store.
Taking with me things for breakfast, things for lunch, things for dinner and of course some snacks.
Eventually I find myself next to an aisle that's entirely empty.
"How strange..." I mutter to myself: "I was sure these were filled just last week..."
I take a few steps back, towards the fridges where they keep milk and stuff.
Something about it seems off.
Carefully I take a closer look.
It looks like all the cartons of milk from the highest shelf to the lowest have all been cut in half in a straight row.
No, cut isn't the word.
More like half of it has been melted off.
The contents are spilled all over the floor.
As I inspect the next row, I see that these all have half-faded packaging.
I look up to find a huge dark stain on the ceiling above it, water is slowly dripping down onto those products and the floor.
It's almost as if the rain is washing it all away.
Quickly I leave for the check-out and find another one behind the counter.
A person, dressed with the same raincoat as mine, somehow still with a faded nametag on their chest, too faded to read.
Honestly it looks a bit silly.
Their hood is up and they look down, causing me to be unable to see their face just like with the others before.
I greet the 'worker' like normal even though he doesn't move at all and I hand them the money, which they don't take either, so I place it before them.
"Keep the change." I say, trying to joke away the fear I feel inside.
That is the truth after all.
I'm scared.
I'm terrified.
I'm terrified, but I don't want to let it show.
Everything about this day has been strange.
Normally I don't fall asleep during the day, normally I don't take the bus to the store, normally I don't stand waiting for a bus with a stranger...
Then there's the fact I haven't seen a single familiar face since I woke up. Why isn't anyone here when usually this store is filled with people I know?
I pick up the pace, too scared to look behind me.
What if they did move?
What if they did move, but only if I wasn't facing them.
What if they were right behind me, staring at me from underneath those hoods?
What if they wanted to do something to me?
I shake my head and enter the rainy and windy outside world again.
The rainfall has gotten even heavier.
I can barely keep my eyes open from all the water pouring down, only able to open them again as I blindly enter the bus stop.
This time I'm alone.
Though I doubt if that really is the case.
I mean, what if they're watching?
While waiting for the bus to come I look at my sleeve.
The dark green fabric has been completely soaked.
Why is it that we all wear the same? I think to myself.
Where and when did I even buy such an ugly thing?
I have another one, a blue one... right?
No, now that I think about it I'm not so sure.
This rain... it's making it difficult to remember.
The bus finally arrives for me to go home again.
Trying to avoid the spats coming from the sky, but failing, I enter the vehicle.
It's cold here too.
Like in the store small clouds leave my shivering mouth.
I look at the driver.
It's one of them again.
Or am I supposed to be one of them?
My coat shows our resemblance.
My hood is still up too.
I take it off and smile at the driver.
"Good afternoon sir, bad weather we're having, don't we?"
Suddenly I hear something moving in the back of the bus.
Multiple people dressed like me are sitting there, more than before.
All of them seem to stare at me from underneath their dark hoods.
I smile at them too, but now that I'm looking at them too they have stopped moving again completely.
The door behind me closes and I take a seat.
Everything feels so unwelcoming, it makes me feel a bit sad.
Looking outside of the window I appreciate the beautifully dreary scenery from my home.
It looks like the water levels have been rising far.
Much further than it normally would.
Almost like the water is trying to swallow it all up.
I'm glad I live up high.
We drive past a small cliff.
I look down at the water through the window.
The rain is still relentlessly hitting the windows, coming down unforgivingly at the windows, making me scared that it could shatter them any moment.
It has become a droning noise overtaking any thought I might have had as suddenly, I feel light.
Everything starts feels like going in hyper speed.
The bus has made a turn.
A turn off the cliff.
And we hit the water before I even realized what was going on.
It's all going so fast and yet, none of them moved even an inch.
All of the other 'passengers' keep sitting the way they sat before, not even trembling because of the fall. Making it look like they were plastic figures glued to their respective benches.
Windows break and water starts to pour in even faster than the rain.
Loudly I curse and get up from my seat in a daze.
My head is pounding terribly, did I hit something?
I'm not sure.
It just hurts.
The vehicle starts to sink and I start to panic.
A heavy tree branch falls through one of the small windows in the ceiling.
I jump back, but then see that it has shattered the entire window and created a way for me to get out.
The water is rising higher and higher and I reach for the window.
Now the people in the bus do start to move.
In a strange and shocking way.
Moving like they have never used a limb before.
Crawling around, stumbling around, a strange form of swimming.
Shit!
They're coming for me!
They're coming for me!!
They get closer and closer with their strange movements.
Trying to wrap their arms around me.
As I feel their freezing cold fingers touch me I kick around me as hard as I can.
"Stay away!" I yell: "Stay the Hell away!!"
Desperately I hold on to the branch.
The first few already have their hands wrapped around my ankles.
"Let me go!!!" I yell, kicking and screaming.
More hands.
And then they start to grip and pull.
The gray light from the sky starts to grow distant, my head is getting closer to the water.
The heavy rain has started pushing me down now too.
Pushing back my hands, letting me slide back down.
I've never seen or even felt a rain storm this heavy, it feels like it's trying to get rid of me.
Trying to clean this place by getting rid of me.
Like a ghost town being washed away by the rain...
The machine that brought the dead back to life
The continueation and final part of a story I wrote.
Word count: 2151
TW: Death and cursing
A sudden shock awakens Drew and he opens his eyes, only to find himself inside some sort of machine.
The space is small and he almost can't move anything, turning around is out of the question.
Luckily since he's used to working in cramped spaces, he's able to keep himself calm.
His head seems to be in a fog, he doesn't remember what happened to get him inside the big object.
Carefully he tries to move his arms, but not much happens, he is completely confined within the machine.
After a while of trying not to panic Drew hears a strange mechanical hissing sound.
It's the door.
The door is opening.
In the opening stands a man in rags with a zombie-like look on his face, suddenly he grabs Drew by his arm and hisses in his ear: "Act like the rest or you'll be dead."
At first Drew doesn't understand at all, but as he looks around he sees in the dark many people moving around almost robotically.
All of the people are working.
Drew quickly looks back at the machine he came from.
It takes a second, but then it dawns at him...
He had been revived.
Trying to remain calm he follows the man before him, trying to take the same slow dead steps.
He thinks of Clara, who must be grieving terribly right now. The reason for him being here must be because she wasn't able to pay for the revival fee.
The day or perhaps the night, there's really no way to know, starts horribly.
People looking like old corpses are walking like slaves with other machines keeping watch if they're working good enough.
Drew is forced to work on broken machinery without break, being monitored almost non-stop.
Thankfully he does quite well, since he has been chosen to do a job he had done last he had been awake.
As the moment finally arrives that the security weakens and no camera's look at Drew, he is completely exhausted.
He feels a hand on his shoulder, it's the man that had warned him before.
"Hey buddy, you gotta keep going, if you don't want to die that is."
"What is this? Why are they doing this?" Drew almost begs the man to answer his questions.
"Once pronounced dead, your rights as a human being are lost. You will be nothing more than an object, a slave. We are supposed to come in here as mindless, but some of us, like you and me, come with one still intact."
"This is a different machine than the one used on the commercials, right?"
The strange man laughs: "Of course, you think people would write a good review if they were to wake up in a dump like this? This place is for those that are too poor or have relatives that don't want them anymore, but the people here are chosen because of having certain skills."
"Skills? Do the mindless even possess those?"
"Bare fractions, but that's all they need. A person's build can also go a long way."
As the monitors return they quickly get back to their work again and after a while Drew learns that the dead down here really don't get any rest.
Still he tries his best, causing him to almost faint.
Slowly it gets even darker before his eyes and he feels himself stagger and the ground seems to be dragging him closer.
Just in time, the strange man pulls him up and hands him something.
"Get up buddy, if you fall now, we're both fucked."
Drew takes the object closer to his face and recognizes it as old bread.
He takes a bite and swallows.
It's absolutely disgusting, but it helps him to continue again.
"How long have you been here?" Drew asks as they have a moment to talk.
"Not so long either."
"Then do you know how you died?"
"Not sure..." The man hesitates for a moment: "But from what I heard, this damned company sometimes picks people and sends others after them to kill them. I believe that at least happened to you."
"What, why?"
"You can't see it right now, but you had a really big scar on your back. They don't patch us up as good as the people who pay for it."
Drew doesn't remember what happened, one moment he had been working and the other he had woken up inside the machine. This information of him possibly being murdered strikes him hard.
"I need to get out of here." He mumbles.
"Don't we all?"
"If I don't they might kill her too."
"You got someone, buddy?"
"My wife, she works here."
"On the bottom I presume?"
"Yeah..."
"Well that explains it then."
"What do you mean?"
"Why were you picked?"
"Do you mean to say that they screened everything about her? And all the people in her life?"
"Yeah..."
Drew firmly places a hand on the man's shoulder: "Just how do you know all this information?"
"Buddy, let go."
"I want to know!"
"Buddy, you're hurting me."
"Just answer me, please!"
The man sighs: "I used to work at the top. I was one of those fuckers at the top. One that could see the sun rise, one that could see above the smog."
"Then why are you here?"
"You really want to know everything, don't you?"
Drew grips the strangers shoulder even harder.
"Ouch! Damnit, I fucked up you know! I didn't agree to their shit!"
Drew lets the man go.
"Thank you." He says annoyed.
"I'm going to get out of here." Drew says while picking up something he things that might be useful as a weapon.
"You're going to get yourself killed going like that."
"Better than dying here. If you want me to survive, maybe you could help."
Defeated, the man sighs: "Fine, then I will."
"So what are we going to do?" Drew asks, some of his old energy returning.
"We have to carefully follow the red lights."
Both drop their work and start their plan to escape.
It doesn't take long for an alarm to sound, the camera's must have noticed that they've left.
Thus the two start running.
As strange looking robots get closer and closer the two men finally reach a door, the strange man opens it and pushes Drew through it.
"You better get her to safety, buddy." The man says and closes the door immediately.
For a moment Drew stands unable to do anything, he had no time to thank the man before and now it was too late.
As his mind finally starts to process everything he decides that he can't do it all alone.
When he rushes outside the building, he notices that it is morning.
But even though the sun is out, seeing it through the thick smog is difficult.
People rush past him to go to work, like none know of what takes place beneath the big company that grants wishes.
Drew hurries home, but as he arrives, notices that Clara has already left for work. He stops for a moment to see hate mail on the floor.
The mail must have been sent by those that knew about his passing.
Drew picks them up and throws them in the trash, might be nice for starting a fire later.
Maybe he can get help at the workshop?
He runs to the place he worked just before he died.
The door is closed and gravity has been sprayed all over the walls.
Vile words are written on the walls, did the boss take Clara's side?
Drew tries to open the door, but it seems to be locked.
He knocks.
No answer.
He knocks again, this time louder.
Then the door finally opens, the boss appears, at first he doesn't notice and wants to ask if he came to harass him, but then he looks up and recognizes Drew.
He takes his arm and almost drags him inside.
"Drew? How can that be you? You look horrible."
Drew starts to explain everything that he knows.
It takes a while, making Drew tumble over his words, trying to get it all out at the same time.
When he finally finishes he says: "So I have to go get her now!"
"Drew, you just came back to life. Please, be careful."
"I'm sorry sir, but I can't, they probably already know that I was the one who left after all. I can't stay here too long. They might even come after you if they know that you kept me here for a while. You sided with Clara, didn't you?"
The older man on the other side of the table sighs in despair and old grief: "Don't let yourself get killed again, son."
The boss turns around to see if he can find Drew something to use as a weapon, but as he hears the front door open and close again, he knows that it is too late.
Drew finally reaches the building again, trying to rush and hide at the same time to get inside quickly and efficiently.
People do tend to stare at him, probably because of old clothes and the fact that even though he's been revived, he still doesn't look much different from a corpse. Possibly a side-effect by the machine at the bottom.
Drew opens door after door to find the room in which his beloved should be working.
A lady walks up to him, asking: "Sir can I help you?" She looks like a normal employee.
"Clara, have you seen her?"
She shakes her head: "Not since she was sent downstairs."
Drew glances at an old staircase that is mostly dark, too dark to see the floor below it.
"Thanks." He mumbles and continues down further.
He rips open a door not knowing if it's the right one.
It shows a big grey room, lighted by white ceiling lights and the many blue screens on the many desks.
At a glance some of the people here look close to dying themselves.
But something else is wrong with the room.
Something very wrong.
Perhaps it looks too clean?
Drew starts to look around, looking for Clara.
The illusion gets shattered the moment Drew accidently pushes a button.
A short glitch appears, like a flash all disappears.
The room is not clean at all, there is even a small layer of water covering the ground.
Drew can see something that looks like a bridge without handrails and on it he sees her.
"Clara!!" He yells at his beloved: "Clara, get away from there!" Blindly he rushes towards her, but it is too late.
She falls, plunging into the murky water that embraces her with its cold deepness.
Without a second of hesitation Drew jumps after her, uncaring of the coldness of the water.
He sinks after her, but loses sight of her quickly.
As he finally reaches what he believes to be the bottom, he frantically searches for her.
With his hands he feels around, but feels a strange object lying underneath his feet.
Unable to hold his breath any longer he swims to the surface and climbs onto the platform.
Even though the illusion is gone, there are still people typing away at the computers, still working even though they should be able to see the real working conditions.
Drew runs up to one of them and pulls them close: "Where are the lights?! Any lights, flashlights, I don't care!"
Panic has wrapped its claws around the desperate man's throat, almost choking him, as is to kill him again.
Unfortunately the yelling doesn't help getting the worker out of his state, only staring blankly at Drew or perhaps through him, unable to see him at all.
Angry Drew tosses the worker aside and starts searching on his own again, quickly opening random drawers without closing them.
As he wants to kick something a hand gets placed on his shoulder: "Here son, use this."
It's the boss of the workshop, handing him an old flashlight, he must have come after him.
Drew takes it saying a quick thanks and uses a useless fire-extinguisher to sink faster to the bottom.
The old flashlight luckily seems to work underwater, it doesn't show much, but it does so for the bare minimum.
As Drew reaches what he believes to be the bottom, he quickly puts his hand before his mouth to stop himself from choking on the water trying to invade his lungs.
This is not the bottom at all.
As Drew slowly moves the flashlight to look around he slowly shines it on many corpses that lie around.
Some new, some almost entirely bones.
It's a pile.
So many people.
And if Drew isn't fast enough, Clara will join them forever.
Slower than he wants to he swims closely to the bodies, trying his best to find his beloved, made worse by the look of all the dead down there.
The water is still murky, but Drew has an idea of where Clara could be.
Soon he finds himself at a deeper hole, one with less bodies.
Using the fire-extinguisher he tries to get to the botom quicker.
.
.
.
Then he finally finds her.
She seems almost deadly pale, almost like she has already joined those deep down.
Swiftly he takes her in his arms and lets go of the heavy object, causing them to slowly rise up again.
As they finally reach the surface, Drew's boss is already awaiting them helping them up.
"Son, what took you so long?"
Drew, completely out of breath, tries to explain: "All... are... all are dead... down there..."
"What do you mean?"
Drew shakes his head: "Please... please, save her."
Clara has gone awfully cold and doesn't seem to be breathing anymore.
Both men feel at a loss, until at the same time they know one way to get her back again.
White hell
Here's another short story I wrote.
I hope you like it:)
TW: Gore & psychological horror
It's all white...
The room I'm in and the rest of this building is probably also all white.
I don't know where I am.
This cold blinding white, everything is this pale color, every object, all the furniture, every.... Everything.
I'm all alone, in this unending place with only one color.
At first, I didn't see it as much of a problem, I am quite introverted after all. Put other people in this room and I would find it all the more terrifying.
But now, I've been here for hours, there are no windows or exits. Or at least I haven't found any.
I have no idea how late it is or what part of the day it could be.
It might be in the middle of the night or perhaps in the middle of a warm sunny day. Of course I wouldn't know, I'm stuck in this building. This building that's completely white on the inside.
There is barely even any shadow.
There is constant white light.
I wonder what would happen if I stay here for too long.
Will I go crazy?
Some time later...
It has been long... or at least I think so.
How long? I don't know.
I think probably a couple of weeks, maybe a month, but I could be very wrong, so maybe just a couple of hours?
I've no clue.
The white light makes me feel cold, not that I'm-in-danger kind of cold. But just an inside kind of cold.
Like my heart froze or it's just pumping cold fluid throughout my body.
I wonder if I'm still alive.
My hands are still warm though, so I might be.
I noticed that sometimes when I close a door and quickly open it again, that it wasn't the same room as before. On a couple occasions, the furniture will be on a wall or even the ceiling.
I've tried breaking through walls, but it doesn't matter, I'm not strong enough.
An unidentified amount of time later...
I found something!
Not an exit unfortunately, but something with color.
It's a pool, a swimming pool in this boring white building.
The water is a calm, light blue.
So I jumped in...
And got out disappointed, it had all turned white under water. Just as white as the rest.
The blue was just an illusion, a dream. Just a small wish for normality in this one color hell.
The white hell, huh... sounds pretty funny, also quite fitting.
Later...
I've made a friend!
My first friend in forever!
The most beautiful friend one could ask for.
It's a small blue butterfly and this time, the color is no illusion.
The one thing that totally made my day.
My friend is stuck here too, so we work together to find a way out.
It is a very good listener and goes with me wherever I go.
I still don't know what name I would give my friend, but is it really necessary? Who am I to decide the name of a creature so beautiful. I'm terrible at naming things.
Its wings are a warm kind of blue, like an ocean during summer looked at by the bright sun.
We eat together and I talk to it, I need someone to talk to anyway. I will definitely go insane if I don't.
More time passed
I don't know what to do.
I hate myself.
I killed my friend.
My one and only true friend in this white hell.
Poor little butterfly.
He didn't want to come with me anymore, so we got into an argument. He said some really nasty things to me and... and I ended up hitting him.
Oh God, what have I done...
With one small thump of my hand, he was no longer...
I cried.
I cried for, I don't know how long.
I mourned him.
And as I wanted to give him a proper burial in the white sand, I noticed something.
My friend had given me one last gift. Did he forgive me?
A new color.
Red.
It came out of him, just a little bit.
Just a small drop.
A beautiful crimson red.
I am so lucky to have had a friend like that.
Date unknown:
I have found more red.
More than before, now when I enter a room there is red splashed on the walls. Maybe even on the ceiling and floor. I don't know what up or down is anymore. I just move from box to box. Everything is the same. Same old. Same old.
The red gives me warmth, it's the same crimson color like my dear friend gave to me.
And when I stay too long it starts turning brown. That's pretty cool!
I didn't know it could do that!
It's pretty.
I open my eyes, I still haven't escaped the white room. I'm still here, trapped by cloth so I can't move. Still alone.
There is nothing else then this white hell.
The not-so-genius detective
I recently decided to challenge myself to write a non-horror short story.
This is my first time attempting to write a story that is supposed to be funny.
When I told my family about this they asked me if I was sick...
Without any further ado, I would love to hear what people think of this attempt at a comedic story:)
Word count: 2076
TW: Profanity (Doesn't go much further than 'shit' though)
“And this is detective Jayden Falkenstein.”
My boss has his hand on one of the shoulders of some kid, while looking like a proud father.
“That’s your nephew isn’t it?” I remark.
The chief looks astonished: “Oh my, you’re already familiar with him?”
“No.” I answer honestly: “But I feel like there’s something you too have in common.”
The man laughs as if I was giving him a compliment: “Oh well, he’s actually a lot brighter than me.”
“You wouldn’t say.” I scan the child before me with my eyes, there’s just something… terribly annoying about him. His clothes are made of many bright colours that don’t go well together, making me believe that he might be color blind. He looks unprofessional and attracts way too much attention.
His face bears the expression of a terrified child trying to hide his fear, with a look of fake confidence that is way too easily shattered.
There’s just no way that he’s a detective.
“So, sir, is he going to work here with us? Like an intern or something?” Or is he here to be baby-sitted by one of us? I secretly add.
“Oh, no, no, no. We need my dear nephew here to help us solve something.”
“Is he good with computers?” The chief is old, maybe that’s the problem? Was an IT-guy too expensive?
“I told you before, he’s a detective.” The man’s face turns serious, he must have noticed that I’ve been having difficulty with believing him.
His nephew must really want to play detective, there’s no way he went to school for it. Let alone leave with diploma in hand.
“You two are about the same age, so I expect you two to get along.”
“Around the same age?” I ask dumbfounded. I know the chief is getting old, but does he really have such difficulty with discerning 15-year olds with those in their twenties? It’s just impossible, he doesn’t even look close. And his terrible sense of fashion…
That and I don’t believe he would even be allowed to take his first driving lessons, let alone be allowed to step inside a bar.
The kid smiles at me: “I’m twenty-five, you know. I heard that you’re two years older.”
What…?!
I shake my head: “You’re not allowed to lie to a police officer, show me your ID.” I gesture to him to hand it over.
“Officer Coldon!” The chief calls out to me in frustration.
But the ‘detective’ hands me something “Here.” he says in a kind tone.
I take the object not really taking it seriously, until the picture and text reaches my sight.
…
…
He really is…
I feel utterly flabbergasted and it takes me a bit to finally find my composure again. While double checking if the ID is real or not.
I cough: “So chief, what’s the plan?”
The man in question looks at me still slightly annoyed: “Well, we got a message from the art gallery asking for help. Someone is threatening to take down the building.”
“I see, have they had the thread on paper or via mail?”
“Paper. The author of the note mentioned something like ‘sneaking inside like a snake’.”
“Can I see it?” I unconsciously reach out, hoping for him to give it to me.
Instead the older man shakes his head: “It’s being analysed by the lab right now. And it’s almost time to go.”
“Already?” The detective asks pouting.
That really can’t be an adult…
Both me and Jaiden get sent back home to change into more formal wear.
I’m lucky that I live quite close by to the gallery itself, I can head straight to the building.
After quickly finding something I believe to be fitting for a guest, I leave my apartment behind and walk to the place the chief wants us to meet up.
It’s in a park close by, I see they were able to get a normal looking van.
Then the other thing that I notice…
As if someone had eaten rainbows and puked them back out…
I frown and try to look away from the almost glowing thing standing before me: “Hell no, you’re not getting in there dressed like that!”
Surprise, surprise… It’s Jaiden standing before me, dressed in a manner even a freezing and naked hobo wouldn’t want. That hobo would most likely prefer to die.
Unconventional, torture to the eye itself. That describes it at best. I can feel the shame… Yet he does not seem to show that at all.
He’s comfortable in that?!
Detective Falkenstein looks at me with a smirk: “Well you’re dressed way too fancy for someone just visiting a museum.”
The audacity.
Suddenly the chief pulls both of us by our collars: “Damnit, both of you, get changed!!”
Both are forced to change on the spot for more casual looking clothes.
As we enter the building I glare at my colleague that did get his way by secretly keeping his God awful looking shirt underneath, slightly better looking clothing.
The chief had decided that the two of us have to partner up. There are others that are doing the same, but are given different routes to walk.
“So, one ticket for an adult and one for a child?” The lady behind the counter asks, taking my thoughts of annoyance to another place.
“I-I’m sorry ma’am, could you repeat that?” I’m pretty sure I heard something wrong.
“One adult.” She nods towards me, speaking almost in slow motion: “And one child.” She nods to Jaiden.
Immediately I shake my head: “That’s a grown man.”
A mischievous smile crosses my colleagues face, one I don’t like the look of.
“Sorry ma’am, my dad is only joking.” He takes my arm and I do my best to resist the urge to slap it away.
The lady behind the counter smiles a little, though clearly with murderous intent when her eyes rest on me.
Then she turns back to Jaiden, a soft smile crosses her face: “Would you like to participate in the scavenger hunt?”
The idiot smiles brightly: “Yes please.”
We get the tickets and I hear the lady whisper to one of her colleagues: “He’s so polite, he really did not get that from his dad.”
The other nods, “Yeah, he probably has a much better mother.”
When we’re finally out of hearing range, I pull the detective closer to me in anger: “That’s illegal!” I whisper-yell: “With our job we need to set a good example!”
Jaiden smiles carefree: “We also aren’t allowed to stand out.”
I hate to admit it, but in a way, just a tiny bit, he has a point. I better talk it out with him later.
Or perhaps I should set him the good example.
Engrossed in the piece of paper that was handed to him earlier, he mumbles: “Hmmm… where should we go next?”
It really isn’t the time to go on a scavenger hunt.
We soon find ourselves inside a long hallway, the walls are neatly lined with many paintings each in slightly different colours and moods.
I can understand why people calls this true art, the way the emotions are showing, the dreams and ideas of their creators all come together in one-
“That one looks super ugly!” My colleague bursts out in a loud laughter.
I look at him threateningly, but he doesn’t seem to notice at all.
“That…” He points at it: “Is truly the ugliest thing I’ve ever seen. No one would want it on a t-shirt. They did call this art right? Is this the collection of the ugliest man-made squirts?”
“Jaiden!” I hiss his name at him to quiet him down, but it only seems to show him that I’m still here.
He turns to me, ignoring the emotions that I’m clearly showing and asks a question in an annoyingly casual way: “So, the scavenger hunt is asking me to give this one a name. I’m thinking of ‘barf in the barn’ or ‘shit cow exploding’…”
He’s asking me.
Damnit, how clueless can a person be?
I take a deep breath to calm myself down: “We should continue to the next.” I try to remind him. There’s no time to be loitering around here, we have a criminal to catch!
I cannot truly see what this painting means, but I bet it has something to do with the painter's hidden anger bursting out. I think to myself as we’ve entered another hallway and a painting has taken my attention.
“Ha, a six-year-old could do better.”
I’m a cop. I remind myself. Murder is a crime.
Though I need to repeat it multiple times in order for it really to seep into my mind.
Continuing on I suddenly notice someone in the crowd acting strange.
A man is staring at a painting, without moving or even blinking at all.
Is he even still breathing?
Carefully as to not get his attention I glance his way a couple of times.
Trying to concentrate, I think about what I should do.
Should I let my other colleagues in- and outside know?
Or should I-
Crunch…
Crunch……
The sound of someone eating right next to me takes me out of my train of thought.
Guess who it is…
Jaiden…
Again.
Yep. That’s right…
He’s eating a bag of chips.
I’m thinking of ripping the thing out of his hands, but he walks off just before I’m able to.
You’re not allowed to eat inside this part of the gallery! I want to yell, but he’s already stepping towards the man I’m suspicious of.
I can see him say something to the suspect and then hold up his bag of potato chips.
The suspect is taken out of his trance and smiles, accepting the offer and taking some of the chips from the bag.
The detective comes back to me: “You know officer Coldon, not everyone is a suspect. That man was simply entranced by the painting. It isn’t pretty, the painting, but to him it feels like something special.”
I would love to be allowed to hit this kid over the head.
I remain silent, trying to show in this way that I still don’t agree.
“We should go this way.”
“Why?” I ask.
Did he suddenly have a good idea?
“The scavenger hunt continues down that hall.”
I follow him, tired out by my own anger and frustration.
I want to be part of what saves this gallery, but now I’m unsure if I can really do it.
“This has to be it!” Jayden suddenly calls out.
“Please lower your voice…” I feel too tired to lecture him again.
He picks up a random looking, empty piece of paper.
“This piece of paper must have another message… like with invisible ink.”
I swear I’m done with this guy.
“There’s no way…” I say, knowing that it’s clearly bull.
Not paying attention, while taking a few steps back, he accidentally bumps into someone.
“Ah, I’m sorry.” He immediately apologizes.
I guess he does have basic manners.
“Don’t worry, it doesn't matter.” The man he walked into answers in a kind tone: “It still happens to me from time to time as well.”
“Still I’m really sorry.”
Are these two going to keep doing this or are they finally going to stop and move on?
We still have to catch someone.
“Oh right, sir, do you happen to have a lighter?” Jayden quickly asks: “I need it for the scavenger hunt.” He points at the piece of completely ordinary paper.
“Oh yeah, I have one.” The man starts digging through his pockets: “Please do return it to me.”
“Thank you.” My babysitting job answers politely.
Carefully he lets the small flame from the dark metal object lick the paper.
As his face turns sour he finally turns off the lighter.
The paper really was just a piece of random paper.
Before returning it, he takes a quick glance at the small object in his hand. For a moment it looks like something clicked inside his mind.
With a smile on his face he returns the lighter to its owner.
“Thank you for letting me borrow this. Unfortunately it seems like this isn’t part of the scavenger hunt.” He hangs his head down showing rather theatrically his frustration.
“I see, well kid, I hope you find it.” The man takes the lighter and calmly walks away.
As the man has gone around the corner, Jayden suddenly jumps and pulls my sleeve: “That’s him!” He stops himself just in time from yelling: “The snake mentioned in the letter, it’s on the lighter! His means of destroying this place is by fire.”
Too tired to struggle, I press against my hidden earpiece and call for backup, giving everyone the best description I can of the suspect.
As we’re finally called back, the chief tells us that our suspects fingerprints matched that of the letter that was sent.
But a better investigation and court will be held later to find out what really happened.
I glance at my colleague.
I guess he might have his charms, solving a case might not entirely be beyond him…
Though dumb luck did most of the job.
But I still can’t get over his horrible sense of fashion!
Brother
This is the first short horror story I'm posting here on tumblr, I hope you like it and if you do. Please check out my Wattpad:
https://www.wattpad.com/user/Ardenla
TW: Gore, psychological horror
My brother has always been very kind. Not just to me, but also everyone and everything around us. We live together with our uncle in a nice house with a big garden. Honestly, the house might be a bit to the bigger side. I'm pretty sure we could fit another small family here, but I'm happy with just the three of us. My uncle is a pretty good cook too! And my brother and I do quite good at school and both have some friends.
Even so, something is wrong.
It has to do with my brother.
He is special. Unfortunately not always in a good way.
The first time it happened was during the accident that robbed us of our parents.
The car got crashed horribly, after it had been upside down a couple of times. It all happened somewhere in the middle of nowhere. I don't know exactly what happened, but at some point in time I had flow out of the car. I don't really remember, but I was surrounded by white. Someone was holding me and protecting me.
This was the first time that I saw my brother's angel.
They look alike. Both have the same face and body, but their eyes, hair and clothes are very different. The angel mostly looks calm unlike my brother, who shows a lot of his emotions. I'm not saying that showing emotions is bad. I honestly prefer my brother's emotional side, to the angel's cold side.
When the ambulance arrived, it took them a while before they were able to save my brother from the wreckage, he had been unconscious and didn't remember anything about the accident. Our parents unfortunately didn't make it. I don't remember crying so much as I did back then, it all still feels like a haze. That maybe in a few minutes the doorbell will ring and that I can see their faces again, that it was all just a horrible nightmare.
When the paramedics asked me about what had happened, I told them that my brother saved me. Or at least someone who looked like him. They looked at me with pity in their eyes, they carefully told me that it wasn't possible, but I insisted until they shrugged and gave up.
Are you familiar with the story that everyone has an angel and a demon on their shoulders? The ones you sometimes see in old cartoons or read about in old books? My mother always loved to tell me those stories. When they were still alive we would go to church quite often, but uncle thinks it's useless to go. Now we only go with our grandmother from time to time and with Christmas of course. Our mother believed in angels, I hope she is in heaven now.
I'm telling you this, because my brother doesn't only have an angel... He has a demon too. One that almost looks exactly like him, but like the angel is just slightly different. The demon is scary and seems to always be angry and full of hate. He hasn't hurt me, but he hasn't been nice either.
They're both just as tall as my brother and when they appear they are always standing close to him.
I wanted to tell our uncle, but my brother didn't want me to tell him. So I promised to keep it a secret. Pretty cool secret, huh? That is what I thought at first too, but I was wrong to think that.
The first time that I saw the demon, was when an older man tried to kidnap me. It happened close to the empty playground that we actually aren't allowed to go to. The man grabbed me by my wrist, it hurt, so I screamed for my brother who fortunately was just inside the hut we had built before.
My brother ran towards me, also screaming. Then it happened. His demon appeared, right before the man could take me inside a building. My brother's demon grabbed the man's arm. He squeezed it. He kept squeezing and didn't let go. The old man started screaming, burns started to form everywhere on his body and he let me go.
I ran to my brother, who then took me back home as quickly as possible. We never played anywhere near there again. We didn't tell uncle either. We just couldn't. My brother was scared, and because he didn't know yet, I told him about his angel, who saved me. This was when we made the promise to keep it a secret.
From this experience I learned that my brother has none or almost no control over his angel and demon. They usually just do some of the things that he was planning for even a second and come out when they 'feel' needed. Unfortunately this has cost the life of the neighbor's dog, the demon killed it.
Another thing that seems to be bad about my brother being able to somehow summon these two, is that it takes a lot of energy out of him. He gets easily tired and when they are both out, my brother will most likely pass out soon after.
Even though this has made my brother's life significantly difficult, he is always there for me and always ready to protect me. His kindness and strength makes me feel useless sometimes. So I always try to take extra good care of him too. I talk to him when I think he needs it or bake him cookies.
Last week something bad happened, something really, really bad. A friend of our uncle came by, or at least he claimed he was and us being the stupid kids we were back then let him in. Our uncle is a cop and this guy claiming to be his friend was actually a criminal, that wanted to emotionally destroy him. After my uncle arrested his friends. He wanted to kill us. That was supposed to be our last day. The day we might have joined our parents. But of course, the man had it wrong all along. He didn't know anything, he didn't know my brother and what would happen if he would hurt me.
One of the first things the man did when he closed the door, was stab me with a knife. It all happened too quickly, even though I screamed my lungs out, I didn't feel anything. I couldn't even hear my own screaming. My brother rushed to my aid. Both his angel and demon appeared.
His angel came to me, took the knife out and healed me. The demon on the other hand, went rampant. He ripped the scared intruder into a thousand pieces and when he was done he burned his screaming face beyond recognition. It was terrifying, I have never seen something as brutal as that and hopefully never again. I have never seen so much blood, it was everywhere. My brother who had tried to stop his demon, had collapsed and lied passed out on the floor. There was blood on the windows, guts even on the ceiling and some wall's had just turned completely black. For a few minutes I didn't even know where we were. When slowly some of the blood dripped down from the window, I could see the room. A couple of small beams of red light shone into the room.
Hell.
The only thing I could call that room.
Did a human really die in here? There is almost nothing left.
When my uncle came back, he of course, was very shocked to see his traumatized cousins covered in blood, in his ruined house, with bits-and-pieces everywhere from some unidentifiable person. The room, dark from blood. So much blood...
The police were quickly alerted and we were questioned, when my brother was back on his feet again of course. I was surprised when my brother told them the truth, he was crying and said he was afraid of what he might do to the people he cares about when the demon goes out of control again. Our uncle's colleagues had a difficult time keeping in their laughs at first, but soon after one snickered, the demon came out again. Attacking them. They were shocked and some of them froze up. Just in time my brother jumped in front, which caused him to get some really nasty burns.
My uncle didn't know what to say or do. He just stood there and stared with a horrified expression.
I ran to my brother first, I saw his wounds and tried to calm him down. While the officers looked terrified, I begged them to please not take him away. This fell on deaf man's ears unfortunately.
Another kind of police group was sent soon after what happened. A group that deals with the more 'special' kind of incidents. They weren't as nice as our uncle's friends. They took my brother away, the entire time he didn't want to look us in the face. Even when our uncle found his composure and tried to comfort him. He was taken, cuffed in a special van. I watched helplessly as they drove off.
I know it has only been a week, but I've not had a good night sleep yet, nightmares plague me day and night. I am getting counseling so it should get less with time.
My uncle and I are staying somewhere else, because everything still needs to be further inspected and of course deep cleaned. I honestly don't want to return there, I don't believe that, that place can ever be called 'home' again. Just thinking about it gives me chills and makes me want to puke.
Since nobody I know well enough died, I still have to go to school. My uncle did call me in sick for the first few days, but since the day before yesterday I go to school again. I don't like it, but we don't have a choice, the school is very strict. Uncle also said that it might be good for me, that it might take my mind off those terrible things that happened just a week ago.
My first day of school went as normal as if nothing ever happened, I lunched with friends who still believe I just got a cold and did the work that was given to me by my teachers. I'm not ready to tell them what happened just yet, how would I even start?
My uncle has brought me to school every day. The car has never felt this empty as I looked at the place my brother would sit. We don't talk much anymore and when I asked him about my brother, he didn't answer and just shook his head. He didn't want to believe what happened yet. I know it was hard on him too, no matter how much he tried to hide it.
I wish I could see my brother again, but I haven't even gotten any message from him or the officers who took him. I don't know if he's even alive. It makes me really worried.
Something strange did happen to me yesterday, I could feel someone watching me the entire day I was at school. I looked around everywhere, but there was no one.
Today was different though, well I could still feel someone watching me and following me around. But this time, when I looked carefully enough, I could see him.
It's my brother's demon.
Watching me without a break. Every time he notices me looking he starts smiling with this creepy, distorted smile.
It's still following me.
I write short horror stories on Wattpad: https://www.wattpad.com/user/ArdenlaMy NaNoWriMo: https://nanowrimo.org/participants/ardenlaRoyal Road: https://www.royalroad.com/profile/666383
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