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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/2212265-The-Rake
Rated: GC · Serial · Horror/Scary · #2212265
Some nineteenth century creepypasta... ;)
SCREAMS!!! Entry 2/6/20
Theme: Deja vu
1,454 words

This story was inspired by this creepypasta photo   that a reader sent to me after seeing one of my other scary stories. *Shudder* I chose to set it in the nineteenth century because it fit the mood I wanted… and because I was in the mood to fiddle with the dialog and language a bit. Hopefully I did it justice. :)



Slowly pulling the curtain back from my four poster bed, my peeled eyes inspected the dim, moonlit room. As I finished sweeping the heavy drapery to the side, my eyes traveling closely behind its motion, I saw it. Not more than six inches from my face, two hollow eyes stared at me, carved out of an almost iridescently pasty, half-human, half-dog face. The head cocked to the side, studying me as my gaze fell down its hairless, spindly long limbs and skeletal body.

As my brain caught up to the appalling image that my shocked eyes had burned into it, I pulled air into my lungs with a horrified gasp and screamed. My heart raced, blood pounding in my shriveling veins as the creature jerked backward, startled by the sudden, jarring vocal siren.

As that breath expired, I filled my lungs to bursting a second time and let loose with another howl of sheer terror. The gruesome abomination clattered out of the room on all fours, tensed tendons jutting outward from under its pallid skin.

I awoke to my brother shaking my shoulder, the flame from the candle in his hand undulating with his jumpy movement. Still I purged my lungs of the horror from the hair-raising experience inside the insidious dream.

“Wake up, Jess!” he implored. “Stop screaming! It was merely a nightmare!”

My scream transformed into a whimper and I snaked my trembling arms around him, drawing him close, taking comfort in the warmth of his body.

“Bloody hell, Jessica! That must have been quite the awful dream!”

“Thank you for rousing me, Jacob,” I said, breathing heavily, my voice quivering.

“Care to relate what you saw?” said Jacob with a mischievous grin, now that I was calming down.

I removed my hand from his back to smack his shoulder.

“No! Don’t make me relive that dreadful dream! The more quickly it fades to the distant corners of my memory, the better!”

He laughed, fully at ease now, his brotherly teasing spreading to full bloom. We bickered for a few moments more before he repaired to his room.

I slept nary a wink the rest of that interminable night.

When the first glint of the sun sparked over the trees on the horizon, I threw aside the curtain on my bed and leapt to my unsteady feet. I donned my stockings, corset, and petticoat, then shimmied into my dress. My nimble fingers worked the tie of my bonnet under my chin as I ran out of the house.

I hurried in unladylike fashion toward the church in the rain without so much as a parasol, dodging to the side whenever I heard the splunk of a carriage-hauling hoof hitting a puddle. I arrived at St. Matthew’s, dripping and breathless, slowing my pace as I walked down the center aisle peering around the sanctuary in an effort to find Father Christopher. Regrettably, he was nowhere to be found at this early hour.

Bother. Puffing out a few last misty breaths from the harried trip here, I sat in the first pew and clasped my hands together, shivering now from the dampness of my clothes and the chill of the as-yet unheated building than from the fright I’d received hours before.

I prayed for an hour, asking God for protection from the ghastly, gangly fiend in my dream before I heard the creak of a wooden door swinging inward. I quickly said “amen” to punctuate my divine supplication, then rose and turned to the entrance of the church. There was a part of me that wondered whether I would see the monster, but I quickly discarded the thought. God would never allow me to be admitted to the clutches of a demon in this, His very house.

It was Father Christopher. I released a breath before I realized ‘twas held.

“Father! Father! I need your assistance most promptly!” I said, hiking up the hem of my dress and petticoat to rush toward him.

“Slow down, my child. What is it that has so vexed you?” he asked, genuinely curious. I was normally more proper than this, but it couldn’t be helped. I needed to understand the origin of the spectre which had visited my dreams.

“I saw an odd beast in my dreams this night just passed, and I wondered if I might trouble you to aid me in understanding its message.”

I described the lanky figment that had so disturbed my fitful rest, and he leaned back, rubbing his bearded chin.

“I have heard told tales of the Rake. This creature which you describe would appear to be one and the same. Only one other parishioner has given testimony to me regarding this monster before our Great and Mighty Lord.”

He crossed himself.

“What, prithee, did he say about this… Rake?”

“He bore witness to a dream somewhat similar to yours, save that he was creeping about in the woods.”

“May I speak with him?”

“Unfortunately, you may not, child. The man has been laid to rest under the cold earth for near a decade.”

My eyes fell to the floor. I wasn’t sure that I wanted to know the answer to my next question, yet I had to ask it.

“May I ask how he met his end?”

The priest’s eyes darkened, lips contorting into a trembling frown.

“It is best that you do not know. ‘Twould merely cause a greater disturbance to your already fragile heart.”

I really didn’t need him to say. His reaction was sufficient to tell me the substance of the story. The poor man had almost certainly met some sort of heinous end, God rest his soul. With a melancholy smile, I did my best to quell the dread that threatened to erupt from its new home in the pit of my stomach.

“There was one more difference that I recall. The creature in his dream attacked him. Yours, it seems, is more trepidatious, since it skittered away.” He smiled reassuringly, beard bristling.

I smiled weakly. That was some small measure of comfort. Small being the operative word.

I thanked the man, even as his brow furrowed and my heart continued to sink. He seemed to wish to say more, but I no longer wished to hear it. My only desire, now, was to go home, make breakfast, and lose myself in the ordinary duties of the household.

That night, my knees quaked under my blankets. My fearful eyes darted in a meticulous pattern, roving over each fold of the thick velvet curtain that surrounded my bed, circling the cordoned area again and again.

As hour upon hour passed in this way, my eyelids eventually grew heavy, slipping lower and lower over my eyes, which were tired, still, from a lack of sleep the night before.

Eventually, I fell asleep... until a creak in the floorboards sent my eyes wide and a frightful chill traveling down my spine.

Slowly pulling the curtain back from my four poster bed, my peeled eyes inspected the dim, moonlit room. As I finished sweeping the heavy drapery to the side, my eyes traveling closely behind its motion, I saw it. Not more than six inches from my face, two hollow eyes stared at me, carved out of an almost iridescently pasty, half-human, half-dog face. The head cocked to the side, studying me as my gaze fell down its hairless, spindly long limbs and skeletal body.

A shimmer of deja vu rippled through me, as I sucked in a breath to scream. I felt a brief, odd reassurance that I knew what was to come next. This would be an awful fright, to be sure, but one that I would live through. Events were proceeding exactly as my prescience had foretold.

This time, however, the creature lunged at me, opening its mouth, blasting my nostrils with its stinking breath and revealing jagged, blood-covered teeth aimed directly at my throat.

As its nasty teeth crushed my larynx and a spray of arterial blood splattered across its pale, white face, I felt liquid warmth dribble down my neck. My scream metamorphosed into a hideous gurgle as I felt the writhing dance of its tongue into the coarse, flapping hole in my throat. I heard the hiss of stuttering suction as it lapped my crimson life away in the darkness.
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