|The Night Terror
Author: fictionalxbliss PM
Every midnight, on the third Sunday of every month, I can hear their screams. Every night before I have cowered, but tonight I face my fears.Rated: Fiction K+ - English - Supernatural/Angst - Words: 403 - Reviews: 2 - Follows: 1 - Published: 06-29-10 - Status: Complete - id: 2823225
|A+ A- Full 3/4 1/2 Expand Tighten|
I couldn't sleep, not tonight of all nights; the night where my nightmares came to life at midnight and vanished as the dawn seeped into my room through the clear glass of my window. It happened every month, on the third Sunday, as the clock struck twelve. I could never discover why it occurred in such a pattern, but my curiosity peaked after my fear had nested into the darkened depths of my heart. As each minute passed the anticipation spread throughout my body, setting fire to my crippling terror.
I waited, and waited, and waited until the shrieking voices form the unknown came to provoke my screams. I had never seen them, not their faces, or their bodies, not even a single glimpse of their features; that was the most horrific part of it all. I never knew where it came from, but maybe it was my own fault; I never opened my eyes when the voices began.
My eyes roamed the contents of my room as I waited; it consisted of the light blue paint-chipped walls, the cold cement floor, the brown dresser with a missing drawer, the tiny closet with a curtain as a door, the bedside table with only an alarm clock. I froze as my eyes came across the green blinking lights that told me my time had run out. I only had two minutes left; two minutes until they came for the feast: my screams of fear. From the hallway I heard the grandfather clock chime and my heart slow.
I cowered under the covers, tiny tears of sweat breaking across my forehead. The high pitch screech rattled my spine. I held my breath, my eyes clenching shut. The mattress sunk with the weight of another body. I shivered, my skin cold and my stomach churning every which way. Something brushed my leg. Then I felt cold fingers wrapping around my ankle. My lungs burned, releasing a desperate cry for help. I was yanked off the bed. The back of my head busted against the hardwood. Feeling my heart struggle to beat faster and my lungs shake, I opened my eyes. Nothing was there.
© Copyright 2008 Taylor Sikes
This is an older piece of mine. It was meant to be a lot more, but the plot was not good enough. So, here is what I give you. Four short paragraphs, the last one written recently.