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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item.php/item_id/1628902-Nightmare
by c_more
Rated: 13+ · Short Story · Horror/Scary · #1628902
The story of the mysterious man that causes nightmares.
I was staring at her, watching her sleep. She was in a deep sleep, dreaming about things that are far less frightening than me. Its better that people don’t know about me, everyone sleeps better and it makes my job easier. If I am in your house, I will be the last thing that you see; for that I am truly sorry. I should not be the last thing anyone sees before they die. My job should go to lovely women who look like angels, not monsters like me. Next week I will be 300 years old, and believe me, 300 years takes its toll on your physical body. My once perfect and handsome face is now weathered and caving in. My skin has become thin and tight over my check bones and jaw line. The circles beneath my eyes are a deep black and my once green eyes are now grey and hold no emotion. In my many years I have seen everything and have heard every excuse. Nothing you have to say will shock me or detour my reason for meeting you. Tonight the girl that I was meeting was young, maybe 22. You would think that younger ones would be harder to kill, but they’re not. Everyone cries the same; I can no longer tell the difference between anyone. This sleeping girl was greatly loved by many people. Even though the child in front of me did not know yet that I existed, I could feel her loved ones begin to stir. Soon someone would call to make sure she was alright. My presence can be very upsetting.



I kneeled on the floor next to the couch where she slept. Next to me was a small table with a phone placed on top. I stared emotionless at my victim as the phone began to ring. She woke up groggy and confused as she glanced at the clock, it was far too early for people to be calling her yet. Without taking my eyes off of her I picked up the phone and held it out to her, this was the first time she noticed me. Fear spread over her face, but she made no sounds of terror. If I hadn’t been able to hear her heart shuffling in her chest I may have been impressed with her bravery. I pushed the phone closer to her hand and she grabbed it. On the other line was her mother.



“Jess, are you alright? I just had the worst dream. I dreamt that you were dying and I couldn’t save you. It felt so real.” I could hear the stress lodged in her mother’s voice, and the sound became worse when the girl staring at me didn’t console her mother’s fears. “Jess, what’s going on? Are you alright?” The girl in front of me-Jess said nothing to her mother, she just watched me. I slowly reached up for the phone, never looking away from her eyes. She didn’t realize I had moved until the phone was being removed from her hand. I hung up on her mother and gently placed the phone back down on the table.



Jess’s heart began to thump louder and she cleared her throat. “Am I going to live through this?” I looked deep into her eyes and told her, “no.” She took a deep breath then asked,” Is it going to hurt?” I hated when people asked me this question. I have no concept of death, I am 299 years old. I obviously am not the right person to ask. Whenever I get thrown this question I always give my safe staple answer,” I don’t know, death is different for everyone.” For some reason people seem to accept this answer, and jess was not different. The phone on her table began to ring again; her mom had called 9-1-1. “Close your eyes.” Was the last thing she heard me say. Jess took a deep breath and then closed her eyes. What happens next always comes effortlessly. I just inhale. I breathe in until all of the air from my victim leaves their body, and their erratic scared hearts finally stop beating. Once the heart stops than I know my job is done. I cannot afford for someone to live and tell the story of how we met. Like I said, the world is much less anxious when they don’t know of my existence.



I left Jess alone in her apartment, her mother would find her soon enough. Jess was my final stop of the night; tomorrow I will start all over again. Perhaps you will be the one I have to see tomorrow, for your sake I hope that you and I will never meet. But if we do, just take a deep breath and close your eyes. It will all be over soon.

© Copyright 2009 c_more (cmore5 at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item.php/item_id/1628902-Nightmare