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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/919672-Night-Terrors
by Rahl
Rated: 13+ · Short Story · Horror/Scary · #919672
My first attempt at writing horror. No plot, just a situation, and exploration.
         I could feel it and hear it long before I could see it. That was how such things behaved. They come upon you like a shadow, and then reveal themselves as the monsters they truly are.

         I could feel the cold breath latching onto the back of my neck, and spasmodic shivers running down my spine. The hairs on my neck stood on end, as though my body thought I was a porcupine; able to defend myself from the predator behind me. My pulse quickened, adrenaline began to flood through my veins; for I knew what was hidden behind me. Cold sweat began to seep through my skin and crawled towards the floor. My breathing slowed as my senses groped outwards to hear the things that must be there, to smell the stench that must be present, and to see the sight that must be seen. And I did. I heard the calm inhaling and exhaling of something behind me. I smelled the acrid stench of blood. And when I turned around, I saw the monster that lurked in the shadows.

         His eyes were a dark, deep red that seemed to pierce into my very soul, burning with fires of their own creation. His skin was fair, almost like that of a china dolls, but paler- much paler. It almost seemed to have a ghost-like quality, ethereal and almost see-through. And his mouth was twisted into a contorted smirk that sickened me with a chilling feeling. His teeth glowed with an inner light that should have been beautiful, but it still filled me with absolute, pure fear. I backed away, inch by inch, step by step, but the demon placed his hand on my shoulder to stop me. The feeling of his cold flesh touching mine seemed to turn me to jelly. My breath stopped sharply as I looked down at his hand on my shoulder, and began again as he effortlessly pulled me toward him. His hand brought out one more chill as it positioned my head to meet his gaze.

         "Lose yourself in my eyes," he said.
         His voice seemed to resonate across the vast emptiness of my mind. His words emblazoned themselves on my very soul. They stabbed me with the icy blades of the night. And they forced me to obey. My eyes locked on his. The world seemed to be shut out. All I could see were his eyes; those eyes. Goosebumps covered my skin, and I began to shake uncontrollably.

         The last thing I heard was his laughter. It boomed around me louder than a waterfall, and surrounded me: crushing me. But no one was there to help me escape from the madness. I was alone. So alone...



         I shot up, my breathing going a mile a minute. Sweat flooded down my body, soaking my clothes and my sheets. My face was red, and my head was pounding. It was still dark though.

         I junped out of bed and turned on the lights, illuminating all of the dark corners. I assured myself it was all a dream, all just a bad dream. I sighed and looked at my digital clock flashing numbers: 1:37. I let out an exasperated breath and tried to go back to bed. It didn't work, so I got up and went to the kitchen to get something to eat, or at least to do something

         As I waited, sipping on some coffee, that laugh still haunted me. I could still hear it in the back of my mind, as a taunt or something. And those eyes... They stayed with me, they brought his presence. I felt as though those eyes were still watching me, even now, and I found myself looking over my shoulder nervously every other minute, just to see if they were there. And as the long hours passed on towards sunrise, I was convinced that I had seen his eyes. I stared at the spot again, shadows in the corner; no eyes. But, I somehow knew they were there, I was sure of it. My eyes focused as I perused the corner, and then I saw them. They were faint at first, but they become more and more defined.

         His eyes finished first. Then the rest of his body began to shape itself from the amorphous shadow, until I was sure it was him. He smiled, and his laugh came once more; I blinked, trying to ignore it. He's not real, I told myself, he is just a figment of my...

         "Steve! Hey! Let's go honey, you gotta take Ruth to school. Come on!" The voice of my wife startled the demon for a second, but only a second. I was relieved for my "savior" and answered.

         "Coming hon! Gimme a sec, gotta get dressed."

         Okay, but hurry it up, we gotta go." She said.

         I mumbled an "okay" and then got dressed, all the while bearing the ever-present gaze of that monster.

         When I was dressed, and ready to take Ruth to school, I took my wife over to the corner where I could see the demon watching me, still, and ask if she saw anything. She said yes, dust. And she reminded me to clean it when I got back. I smiled and hid my disappointment as I rushed out the door, dragging Ruth along, and got in the car.

         The entire ride I could see the gaze out of the corner of my eye, and I tried to ignore it;that didn't work. The gaze grew more powerful. It seemed to bind tendrils of power around my head and try to force me to look the other way; I resisted. But then I felt its hand once more, on my cheek, twisting my head towards his gaze. Time stopped, I looked into the demon's eyes with an expression of surrender. I was lost again. The potency of those eyes had taken me once more. I was oblivious to the world around me. All that mattered were those eyes. And then a sound tore me away from his grip. It was a scream, the cry of my 10-year-old daughter yelling, "Daddy, look out!"

         I turned towards the road, horror honing itself towards the road. My eyes widened, my foot slammed on the breaks; it was too late. I crashed directly into a red convertable. I was going 70 mph. It was going 40. The demon's laughter came harder than ever, and then... nothing.


         I woke up on a bed in the hospital, and I could hear the tears of a woman, and the monotone voice of a doctor reciting the mantra, "It'll be okay. Everything is gonna be alright."

         Then I heard the demanding voice of my wife, "Would you shut-up? My husband almost died, and could still die, and all you have to say is some stupid recorded message that you say over and over again? Well I don't wanna hear it! I don't wanna hear any more of your goddamn lies! I want you to go help my husband. 'Til then, go away."

         I smiled. Good for her. The doctor left, muttering something about language under his breath, and my wife started crying again.

         The demon hovering over me immediately stopped my smiling. I looked him straight in the eye, resisting his power as best I could, and said, "Go to hell, your not real." Then I went to sleep, hoping not to see the demon again, but I was wrong. So wrong.

         "So! You would like to see hell?" said the demon, "Well, your wish is my command. Feel the burn of sin and hatred!" He raised his hands.

         "No!" I said, rooting my feet to the ground, "You are not real! Not real!" I seemed unsure of myself, but reinforced my words with my genuine rage to hide my lack of certainty.

         He can't be real, I said to myself again, He lurks only in the shadows of my mind...only in the shadows... I knew the answer.

         I smiled, "You know, demon, this is my dream. My rules. Burn in hell!"

         My mind focused on light and clarity, I was sure it would work. And it did. I could hear the demon's shrill shrieks as he was destroyed by the light. I smiled at the simplicity. just like the boogie-man, I thought. And then I slept, awaiting new terrors, for I could take them all. I just had to remember that I was myself, controlled by myself; no one else. I just had to remember that my life was my own, and no one could take it from me.




AUTHOR'S NOTE: So far all the reviews I have recieved on this were bad (in quality) and I would appreciate it if you could make one that actually helps me, instead of just saying "it sux" or "you spelled 'the' wrong" Give me something constructive. Thank you.
© Copyright 2004 Rahl (dylan92 at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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