By Raptor Vinny
That's the only word that could describe Brian's feelings to what had happened to him. He was alone, on his knees on the living room floor, head in his hands, rocking back and forth. He had endured an onslaught of terror and did not know if his wife was dead or alive…
It all started around 3 AM. He had woken up, screaming, to searing pain in his eyes, like someone had branded them with an iron. He held them tightly shut, tears streaming down his face until the pain subsided. He remembered hearing a loud stomping out of his bedroom. He tried to open his eyes but could only see blackness.
He was not alarmed by this, until a few moments passed and his eyes did not adjust to the darkness. He felt a knot of fear in his chest as he realized he was blinded, and his thoughts raced from the shock. Will I ever see again?
“Sharon?” he called out to his wife. He waited several moments, but no response came. He felt at her side of the bed, and felt nothing but the warmness of her departed body on the sheets. His eyes still burned; the pain was not completely gone.
He swung his feet out from the side of the bed, and felt towards the bathroom attached to his bedroom. He instinctively flicked the light switch and was momentarily confused as to why the blackness hadn’t evaporated. He shook his head.
Brian went to the sink and felt for the tap, turning it on and reaching down with his hand to scoop the water. He put his hands to his eyes, hoping the water would flush them out and relieve the pain. It did, but only momentarily. He looked up towards the mirror. If he could still see he would see his reflection staring back, a tall, slender middle aged man. He had a small scar along his right cheek from an incident while on the police force.
He had quit after that and gotten a job as a security guard locally. He felt a lot safer at his new job, but was also overcome by boredom most of the time. He had decided he should stay for Sharon though, as she was a nervous wreck after the incident.
He picked up a towel and dabbed at his eyes gently and dried his hands. He heard a low grumbling from nearby outside the door. Brian snapped around, his heart racing.
“Who’s there?!” he shouted. He put the towel down and felt along the walls, turning the light switch off. More grumbling responded, stopping Brian in his tracks. He slowly made his way to the bedside, reaching for his nightstick that he kept on the floor. He felt along the carpeted floor but could find nothing. Fear gripped him as he felt completely defenseless.
He got up to his feet and slowly made his way to the hall. He grabbed the railing and descended down the stairs.
“Sharon?!” Still no response came from his wife, only a low grumbling laughter. Suddenly, red flashes appeared in his mind, dispelling the darkness. He cried out as the flashes shocked him and he fell down the remaining three steps, banging his head roughly on the wall. More flashes came, this time images of his wife, laying on the living room floor motionless and bloodied. He saw the thick red blood covering her face and blonde hair, and her leg looked badly mangled with a broken bone jutting out.
Brian cried out again at the image of his wife badly beaten. He started crawling on the floor of the living room, reaching around to try to find her, but could only feel the smooth wood.
“SHARON?! Where are you?!”
Whispers came to his mind, “Over here… here…” as more flashes came, this time showing her laying on the kitchen floor, but too quickly for him to discern how badly injured she looked. He got to his feet and stumbled to the kitchen as quickly as he could, banging his legs into a chair. He got to his knees again, feeling in the spot he saw her in his mind. His hands crept along until he found… wetness. He brought his hand to his nostrils and sniffed them, and smelled the distinct coppery odour of blood. He frantically crawled forward more and felt his wife’s arm.
“Sharon!” he yelled again, feeling more… but was met with soft, squishy tissue and blood that had been exposed. He felt at her wet neck, feeling for a pulse, and putting his head near her mouth to listen for breathing. He felt nothing. His hands shakingly continued to feel at her body, as he began to weep. Tears streamed down his cheeks and spilled down in to the blood on the floor, mixing with it. He bent forward and grabbed her head, bringing it to his shoulder, the blood wiping on to his shirt, as he rocked back and forth and cried.
He heard another low, grumbling laugh. His head snapped up, his face covered in tears and blood. He heard a loud stomping approaching closer to him.
“Who’s there?!” Brian yelled. “What have you done, you bastard!” Brian continued crying, his voice cracking as he yelled. He got up and grabbed a stool, throwing it towards the sound of the footsteps.
Whatever was there roared loudly, rumbling the entire house as Brian heard glass and dishes in his kitchen rattling. Brian covered his ears, yelling back at the roar.
The sound shockingly ended, cut off unnaturally. Brian stood in silence, not knowing what to do. He could feel every muscle in his body wishing to spring, to make him run in fear. He finally relented and sprinted to the front door, not caring about the objects in his way, as he crashed through them. He tried to slow down, anticipating where the door would be, but mistakenly slid along the hardwood floor into it, knocking him to the ground.
He heard a roaring, demonic laughter behind him as he scrambled to his feet and felt for the door handle. Shockingly, he could only feel the smooth painted wood. He felt the edges of the frame, so he knew he was at the door, but the handle had vanished. His heart leapt into his throat. He thought fast and continued to feel at the walls to where the window was. He felt the soft curtains in his hands, and pushed them aside to touch the smooth window, but only felt the rough edges of brick and mortar.
Brian really started to panic now, whimpering in fear at not being able to escape this presence in his home. He felt oddly shaped fingers brush against his back. He yelped and turned around, swinging his fist. It connected with air. He heard the loud, roaring laughter again.
Someone… something was toying with him, to be sure. He heard a loud crack in his ear and jumped to the side, as it sounded like something punched through the drywall. He then heard the sound of porcelain plates being thrown against the tile in his kitchen and the hardwood floor of his living room, and felt fragments hitting his body and face.
“WHAT DO YOU WANT!?” Brian screamed, terrified of not knowing what was happening in his own house, only being able to hear it.
“Feeear” something hissed back at him, from across the room. Brian suddenly saw more flashes in his mind, and his head began to throb, the force so strong that he fell to his hands and knees. Strong pain came back in his eyes, but the darkness began to dissipate. He could slowly start to make out his living room floor, as it looked hazy and unfocused for a moment. He shook his head and blinked his eyes, trying to restore his sight. It started coming back, as the floor came in to focus.
Brian finally brought his eyes up, looking at the thing that had penetrated his home. He realized he wished that his sight had not come back, as the terrifying, shadowy figure loomed over him. It was humanoid in shape, yet looked completely unnatural, with black skin, beady green glowing eyes in its fat face, huge, muscular build, and its arms and legs were completely off balance, with its left arm at least three feet longer than the other, and the same for its right leg. Its fingers looked like a tree branch, with joints going in all directions. Brian wished that he could not see anymore, yet his eyes would not allow him to look away or blink as the figure brought a disfigured hand came down and grabbed around his throat, and Brian got his wish, as the world turned black and the last sound he heard was the crunching of the bones in his throat.
5/8/2010 2:16:50 AM
(Updated: 6/1/2014 9:52:08 PM)
(Updated: 6/1/2014 9:53:50 PM)
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