This scary story is an experiment of mine. I am curious about what others think of it.
| I woke up in a cold sweat, shaking. I sat upright in terror. I knew I would never go back to sleep, so I got up to get some coffee. I turned on the gas to boil some water for the French press. I was thrown back against the table. Flames leaped from the stove. The curtains burst into flame. I reached for the fire extinguisher. It was like the extinguisher was filled with gasoline. The flames accelerated rapidly out of control. I could feel the heat and could smell my hair burning. I knew I had to get out of there very quickly. The flames were too intense between me and the kitchen door. I had to make it to the front door. I tried to run toward the hall, but the pain in my back from hitting the table was excruciating. I could only limp away from the growing inferno. The flames were already reaching the hall door by the time I got to it. I staggered from one wall to the other. I finally reached the living room. The back of my shirt caught fire. Pain crawled up my back. I wasn't going to make it to the front door. I reached the nearest window. I tried to shatter the glass, ignoring the risk of getting cut. The glass refused to break. I felt a bone snap in the back of my hand. It was like the glass was thicker than normal window glass. My hair caught fire, and the heat around my head intensified. I could feel the ocular fluid flash into steam as my eyes burst out of my head.|
I woke up in a cold sweat, shaking. I sat upright in terror. I knew I would never go back to sleep, so I went outside to smoke. I could barely get the cigarette lit. The smell of the smoke seemed to catch the attention of something. I could hear low, deep growls coming from the woods. I looked and saw what looked like a pack of wild dogs. These dogs were not normal dogs. They were much bigger than even a Great Dane and had glowing eyes. They came after me at a fast run. I took off as fast as I could. It was like I was running through molasses. The dogs got closer and closer until I could smell their rancid breath. I mustered a little more speed, but it was only a matter of time. I felt the teeth of the lead dog sink into the back of my leg. The rest of the pack began to chew on my body, ripping out chunks of flesh. This went on for what seemed like forever. Finally, one of the dogs ripped out my throat.
I woke up in a cold sweat, shaking. I sat upright in terror. I knew I would never go back to sleep, so I went to my six-year-old daughter's room to check on her. She was not there. I knew that only one thing could have happened. Her mother and her new boyfriend had to have abducted her. I called 911, but there was only a busy signal. I ran barefooted to my car to drive to her mother's house. The road seemed much longer than it actually is. I suppose that was caused by my worry and fear for my sweet little girl. As I neared their house, I could see flashing lights and flames. I could see a hazmat truck outside the burning house. I could see my little girl lying in the yard, surrounded by EMTs, with both heat and chemical burns on her face. I knew that the boyfriend was cooking meth and had blown up the house. I fell to my knees in agony. I knew my sweet girl was gone.
I woke up in a cold sweat, shaking. I sat upright in terror. I really needed a drink. I shuffled toward the kitchen. I saw a shadow in the corner, out of the corner of my eye. When I turned to look at it, it was gone. I felt eyes behind me, staring. I spun around. Nothing. I saw the shadow again, on the ceiling. It slid down the wall. Again, when I looked at it, nothing. Suddenly the shadow was right in front of me. It reached for my head. The claws on its index fingers entered my ears while its thumb claws punctured my eyes. I could feel the pain of the claws digging around in my brain. As the tip of the right Index claw found my memory center, I began to relive every single sin that I had ever committed. It was like an overly realistic virtual reality movie. I could feel the harm that my actions had caused.
I had a vision of my ex-wife's and my life together. She was trying to stay sober. She would make it for a day or two, and then I would suddenly find her passed out. Then I saw her sneaking into my liquor cabinet. The cold, hard truth kicked me in the teeth. This was the one truth that I had avoided facing, and could not face. I no longer had the choice. This shadow demon forced it down my throat. My ex-wife would have stayed sober if it hadn’t been for my selfishness. If I had been willing to give up my fine Scotch whisky and good rum, we would never have separated. Her and our little girl would all be living happily together. The death of my daughter was my own fault. The guilt washed over me in waves. It just wouldn’t end. When the guilt from knowing the awful truth became unbearable,
I woke up in a cold sweat, shaking. I sat upright in terror. I knew I would never go back to sleep. It was the day I was going to climb Sabancaya, a volcano in Peru. There would not be time to sleep anymore.
I called a taxi to get to the guide service building and boarded a van. We traveled to the trailhead. I started the hike to the base of the mountain. After about an hour, I realized that I was alone. The other climbers and guides were nowhere to be seen. The only person I could see was a beautiful Quechua woman with long dark hair. She was just standing there among the rocks. I walked up to her to ask if she had seen the others. When I got closer, her arms stretched out an unnatural length and pulled me to her. Her hair turned white. Her skin wrinkled up and hung from her face and body. She smiled at me with broken and yellowed teeth and breathed the breath of the dead in my face. She licked me with her eel-like tongue before she slid it down my throat in a passionate and disgusting kiss. She forced the evil from her rotting mouth deep into my soul. She pushed me backward to the ground, spat on me and cursed me vehemently in Quechua before disappearing. She had left me alone on the side of a mountain that I realized was not in Peru.
The evil forced me to my feet. I wanted to go toward the bottom of the mountain, but the evil forced me to climb. I knew what it wanted. The volcano shook and began to erupt. Pieces of hot andesite rained down on me. Ash climbed high into the sky. The sky darkened even though it was still early in the day. Soon the only light came from the crater, along with the occasional startling flash of lightning from the volcanic thunderstorm generated by the hot ash. Sulfurous fumes from vents on the side of the volcano choked me and burned my lungs. I gasped and wheezed. It felt like fire in my lungs. I had to keep climbing even though I had no breath. Each step was agony.
A lightning bolt knocked me off my feet but strangely didn't kill me. I couldn't get back up. I climbed along on my hands and knees. The sharp igneous rock cut the flesh from my kneecaps. I knew that it shouldn't be possible to continue, but I somehow did. The evil in my soul would not allow me to stop. The pitch increased until the mountainside became almost a cliff. I pulled myself along by reaching above my head and pulling at cracks in the hot rock. The hot rock burned my hands. The air kept getting hotter the closer I got to the crater.
I finally reached the edge of the crater and sat down with my feet dangling over the lip. Waves of searing heat rose from the depths below. My head swam. I lost my balance and pitched forward into the darkness. All I could see was flashes of light from the lava pool below. I screamed over and over. My arms and legs flailed around frantically. I grabbed at the fume-laden air, trying to stop myself. I fell and fell as the minutes crawled by. Adrenaline and fear cut through me, making my already pounding heart spasm. I have no idea how long I fell. I bounced off of the wall of the crater. I felt several bones snap. I fell for another long space of time before hitting the lava pool. The thick lava burned its way into my body. I sank slowly into the inferno. The pain became unbearable and then increased even more. My body was consumed but the pain went on and on and on and. . .
I woke up in a cold sweat, shaking. I sat upright in terror. I knew I would never go back to sleep, so I got up to get some coffee. I turned on the gas to boil some water for the French press. . .