Seashell

Sleep paralysis

My most recent short horror story:)

Word count: 953

After a long day of work I finally got home.

While rubbing my tired eyes I open the door to my apartment.

I reach for the light and turn it on.

My eyes scan the room that has appeared before me.

Thank God, it looks exactly the same as how I left it. I think to myself.

Quickly I glance behind me in the hallway.

No one is there.

Good.

I enter my home and close the door behind me.

One lock.

And the second lock.

You can never be too sure.

You can never be too safe.

I live alone, so leaving and coming home is always connected to some sort of fear of an intruder or a change.

Or perhaps it's just me, I've always been told that I'm quite anxious.

Well whatever, I'm home, I'm going to cook myself dinner.

As the food in the pan has finally come to the right heat, I turn of the stove and put my dinner on a plate.

I go over to my couch, turn on the tv and start eating.

I always do it like this, especially whenever I need to work the next day.

Usually I don't even pay attention to what's on, I just stare at the screen blankly.

I need the noise in order to feel safe.

In order to feel... well, not alone.

A while after I've finished my food, I decide that it's time to go to bed.

I keep the tv on and go to the bathroom to brush my teeth.

As I get out and back into a room, I suddenly hear the tv blaring some news I really didn't want to hear.

"The serial killer that has taken the lives of five has yet to be caught. The police have let us know that all of the murders have been done by the same person, evidence has shown-"

I quickly turn off the tv, I feel my body has turned cold by the voice of the newscaster.

It feels terrible.

"I really didn't want to hear that." I say speaking to myself, something I've been doing more and more since living alone.

Maybe I should check all the doors and windows again... just to be sure no one could enter.

I turn on some happy music in order for me to go through with my triple checking round.

As I check everything for the last time, I finally decide that I am in fact alone and that no one is inside my home.

I close the curtains and get into my messily made bed.

Then it's time to turn off the lights.

It takes a while for me to sleep, the thoughts of the news from before still linger freshly in my mind.

Suddenly I hear something moving in my room.

I open my eyes.

It's really dark.

At first I don't see anything.

But then I do.

Something is inside my room.

I can feel my heart starting to beat faster.

Unmoving it stands in the corner of my room.

Something seems to be staring at me and I'm staring back.

My eyes blink and as my eyes open, I notice it standing closer to me.

It moves what I believe to be its head and I hold my breath.

For a moment dark spots start appearing and I'm forced to start breathing again.

The dark spots disappear, just as the figure.

Did it really go away? I wonder.

I try to turn my head, but somehow I seem to have lost all control of my body, except for my eyes.

Suddenly I notice something in the corner of my eye.

A face.

Someone is standing next to me.

Their face right next to mine.

The person, if I can call it that, in my room looks rather unsettling.

The face... has something unnatural to it.

One eye looks just slightly too big and the other too small.

The smaller one seems to be staring into my soul.

The big one seems to be almost bulging out of the eye socket, though that might still be in part my imagination. I wouldn't be able to tell you which eye is the smaller or bigger one.

Still in a way it does still look like a normal face, but also not at all.

Their skin is incredibly grey, like ash.

Their fingers are thin, so thin I've never seen before.

The intruder takes out something that glistens in the little bit of light that enters my room.

Immediately I know what the object is.

A knife.

"I know you can't move, so I will give you a chance." They say in a voice that seems devoid of humanity.

"With this mark, you are the next."

I try to move, but even just trying to move my lips end up accomplishing nothing.

My heart is beating so loudly I can't hear anything else.

The intruder smiles, too widely for any human being to be smiling and then slowly starts to cut through my skin.

It hurts.

It hurts!

I want to scream, but I can't.

I want to fight back, but my body won't let me.

A creepy chuckle leaves the person's lips.

Lips that seem to have something inhuman.

They take their time, cutting away at my shoulder.

Meanwhile I'm unable to do anything.

My blanket has fallen onto the ground and the figure picks it up and tuck me in.

"Ssssh... there, there." They say in a malice filed tone: "Don't be scared, I'll come back for you later."

Then the intruder leaves the room and I close my eyes.

My alarm wakes me up and the first thing I notice is that I'm able to move again.

What a nightmare.

I sigh.

Looking around, I finally feel at ease again.

No one is here.

I'm alone.

I get out of bed and get ready for the day.

When I'm ready to leave, I place my hand on the doorknob of my front door and, shocked, I pull it back quickly.

It's unlocked.

Both locks.

I'm so certain I locked them.

I checked and checked again.

A sudden pain enters my shoulder and I rub my hand against it, only to find it stained red.

Coffins for robots

Happy new year!!

Here's a short horror story I wrote that's part of the book I'm currently writing: 'Book of the Apocalypse' (You can read this without having ready anything from the book itself).

Word count: 1300

TW: Gore, blood, spiders, bodyhorror

Quietly I let my electric motorcycle come to a halt, leaving me and the world around me alone with the light of the moon and the stars.

I really need a place to stay the night, even though sleep is hard to find and even feared in times like these. Still it’s nice to have a place to rest.

I park my bike, locking it is unnecessary, there might just be me left after all.

Me in the whole wide world.

Me and the monsters.

Me on my own.

Well no time to be sulking about it, I will be fine on my own… probably.

I look at the dark building before me, once this would probably have been a proud church. People must have gone here in search of sanctuary and now it is my turn.

The place looks abandoned, even though most of the windows seem to be intact.

Well, lucky me.

No sleeping with the whispering wind that takes away my warmth tonight.

I decide to quit standing around doing nothing and make my way towards the giant doors.

One of them is slightly ajar.

I glance inside…

No movement.

It looks empty.

But somehow it freaks me out.

I don’t like this place, something about it just feels worse than wrong.

I sigh and try to get myself to toughen-up again: come on Sara, now is not the time. You’ve slept in places far worse than this.

Against the screaming feeling in my gut, my tired head takes control and I walk inside the cold building.

It’s freezing in here, it must have been a while since it had felt a warm body walk inside.

I wrap my arms around me in order to keep myself warm.

Accidently I startle myself by almost tripping over an old stone, making it echo and letting me know by sound just how big and empty the place really is.

It reminds me a bit of the place I slept in a couple of nights ago even though completely different it gave off the same hollow vibe.

It was a small cabin in which a murder had taken place, yeah the body like the smell was long gone, but the markings and stains still remained.

And the feeling.

The feeling of the terror the victim felt.

The feeling of the twisted villain that had committed it for its own filthy reasons.

God, the feeling I get from these places never seems to leave.

It’s almost as if they’re following me around everywhere I go, as untold stories lingering besides me, waiting for a moment to strike me at my lowest.

I’ve always known, even at a young age, even before the world went to shit, if someone had died at a place I was visiting.

And I can say with full certainty, that people have died here as well.

Unlike the other place, there have been more than one.

Perhaps even the whole church at some point.

Carefully I scan my surroundings, checking every bench and every corner, listening to any possible sound from an enemy.

There seems to be nothing here in this giant building.

Nothing at all.

Somehow… it’s just too quiet.

As I’m inspecting the kitchen I suddenly hear something loud coming from outside.

I better check it out in order to see if it’ll be a danger to me.

Taking a side door outside I find myself within a strange looking graveyard.

There are both big coffins standing above ground, made out of some kind of stone or perhaps metal.

There are also normal grave stones, but these seem to be in a much worse condition than the coffins.

Vigilantly I walk towards one of them.

I open the coffin’s lid.

It’s heavy and I need to push it away with my entire weight.

Panting I watch as the heavy lid falls loudly onto the floor.

I need to know what’s going on here. I keep telling myself even though I feel myself wavering.

Quietly I take a peek.

An ever so soft blue light is coming out of the coffin, so soft, it barely reflects back.

Someone is inside.

Or perhaps something?

A human figure seems to be lying inside.

Unmoving.

Unbreathing.

But for some reason, I know that it’s not a corpse.

Or at least that there’s no feeling that they once were human.

Believe me, I know when it is.

I can feel it.

This before me, although looking very human, is nothing more than a doll.

Soulless.

Never to move.

Except for in horror movies back in the day.

Suddenly I hear something move.

A shadow is standing in the distance.

The shadow of someone dressed rather old-fashioned.

A nun.

She seems to be carrying something heavy.

There is no way that she is human.

With my hand I immediately touch my trusted gun, calming me down a little, I don’t take it out just yet.

Quickly I glance back at the inside of the coffin.

Were the dolls eyes always open?

Swiftly I look back at where I spotted the moving shadow, only to find it having disappeared.

I sneak behind the coffin, hoping the nun hasn’t taken notice of me yet.

Hiding, I look around.

I better not stay here for long.

My bike. I need to get back to it!

The faster the better!

Scanning my surroundings I decide on multiple paths I could possibly take.

It’s good to have more than one plan of escape.

I should quietly zigzag around the graves, there are enough places to hide. For me as well as the nun…

I take another glance around and then finally make a run for it towards another coffin.

It’s closed like the rest, but this time I decide not to waste any time and just continue.

Quietly I rush towards another, still paying attention to everything, sound, feeling, sight. The things that have saved me countless times.

I hide behind another and another, until I’m finally at the one closest to the church.

I spot the familiar shadow of my bike, standing at the place I left it.

Another look around and I book it towards my vehicle.

But before I reach it a strange sound makes me stop.

It’s coming from right next to my bike.

Something like laughing, though it clearly never belonged to a human being.

It’s her again…

A shadow is towering over my main way of escape.

I now get a good look at it.

The nun’s clothes look haggard and her body exists out of both machine and human parts.

A zombie.

One of her eyes suddenly drops onto the floor, there isn’t much bounce in it, so it just drops into a mush.

A black fluid starts to slowly leave the empty hole and I spot many small spiders crawling inside.

I almost jump back.

The zombie nun then opens her mouth, licking her lips showing how hungry she is.

Before I know it I’m running away as fast as I can.

I glance behind me to see what she’s doing and find her almost catching up to me.

I should have never glanced back…

Something has taken hold of my arm.

It’s a doll.

But not the one from the coffin I had opened.

Could it be that all these coffins were filled with dolls?

Could they somehow be like the zombies?

I try to get loose, but another pair of arms grabs me as well.

Taking my gun, I start firing at everything that moves, but it’s useless.

I’m quickly disarmed.

My trusted weapon drops onto the grass with a soft thud.

Panicking, I start hitting whatever I can, but everything is just going too fast.

I can’t feel anything.

A strange half-digital sounding laugh coming from the nun’s croaked throat brings me back to reality.

I can feel my body turn cold.

Fuck!

It knew! It knew all along!

How could it have predicted this?

Zombies should be unable to do so!

Just what the hell is this?!

A face appears before me.

The weathered mechanical nun looks at me with a crooked smile as she slams her weapon down onto me.

Once more she opens her mouth and somehow words spill out of it and I can clearly understand.

“Now pray.”

The fears of an inanimate object

I wrote this one a while ago, but still found it fun to share.

I hope you enjoy this short horror story:)

TW: Gore, blood, dolls

Word count: 1534

I have gotten so used to the smell, I don't even notice it anymore.

It's the smell of old books, old people and old junk.

I've sat here, day in, day out. Never able to do anything. I can't move or speak. I can't even blink.

My head has always been fixed in one position and that is forward.

I am like many in this old thrift store, an old, dusty object.

I am a doll.

I know I am, I've seen myself in a mirror before, that's when they brought me here and it is my very first memory.

It honestly is very strange, I am an inanimate object with thoughts and feelings, yet I can't do anything or let anyone know.

I was quite upset and shocked when I found out. Scared, but unable to show the emotion. Wanting to scream but unable to tell anyone. Unable to move, but wanting someone to comfort me.

That was the worst part of my being.

I just woke up, learning that my life held no meaning and I would never be able to do anything or be loved by anyone.

I hated it.

I hated my existence.

I hated whomever put me here.

I hated my creator, yet there is nothing I can ever do about it.

So I just sat here. Always in the same place, always dressed the same, always looking the same. Always with a little extra layer of dust covering me. Always praying. Always hoping for a change.

I've seen the sun come up and go under for a long time now, from a tiny window in the back of the store. Each time it came, it took a little bit of color from the objects in its way. Until they turned gray and were thrown out.

I was lucky, the sun never shone on me, it couldn't. So the light just lurked ever so slightly under my feet. Like a hungry predator, waiting for its prey to run. But I of course would never move, so it just left every time it had to go again.

At some point, I got jealous of the sunlight, it was able to shine. It was able to move. It was always there for the people and animals and I could or would never be able to.

Such a stupid thing to be jealous of.

I was even more jealous of the tiny birds by the window, as short as their lives might be, they were my only source of entertainment.

The birds sang to one another and could fly, they could travel. Oh how much I wished that I would have been born a bird and not an inanimate doll.

I've seen people come and go, I've seen them get older and then eventually one day they just stopped coming and new people took their place.

Take me home, take me home...

I silently wished.

But who would listen to the pleading of a voiceless doll, an object without a soul.

Something that can't do anything or even think.

Well of course they are wrong at that last part. I am very lucid after all.

Unfortunately...

Then one day, The happiest day of my inanimate life, a little girl and her mother came to visit the store.

The girl saw me.

As soon as she did, her eyes started sparkling. I've never seen anyone's eyes do that before. Especially when they saw me.

The girl almost seemed to fly towards me, that's how quick she was.

She was the very first person that would speak to me.

"Hello Dolly, what's your name? Do you wanna be friends?" Her little arms stretched out to me in a hug.

I've never had a hug before, it is so warm. I wanted to cry, but of course I couldn't.

I wanted to tell her to please take me away from here, oh please.

Of course I wanted to be her friend, I've always wished for one and she would be my first.

It was like she could read my mind.

She begged her mother to get me for her.

Her mother wasn't too sold on the idea at first and called me 'that creepy old thing', but her daughter didn't care.

She wanted me and started to throw a fit, then the shopkeeper said that they could have me for free.

What a nice guy.

Now the mother couldn't refuse anymore and she gave in.

"Fine, but keep that thing away from me." She told the little girl, while looking at me like I was a dirty old sock.

Well I forgive her, I was too happy anyway. I had been here for god-knows-how-long and even the spiders didn't like me.

And so, I left the old thrift store and started anew with a new family and a best friend.

Molly (the little girl) and I did a lot of things together, she would dress me up at least 17 times a day. With clothes her grandmother had made for me. She told us that she once had a doll like me, that also looked very similar. She was also able to repair and clean me a bit and after that I had become a lot prettier.

After all that, even Molly's mother didn't even feel that bothered by me anymore.

We had tons of tea parties and Molly had of course given me a full tour of the house and introduced me to all the other dolls and stuffed animals.

I knew all their names by heart. I wonder if any of them were like me, but there wouldn't be any way of knowing.

I might not be able to do or say anything, but I really did have the time of my life there.

I have a home.

We would eat breakfast together, we would go on walks together. We would talk about anything, well more like I would listen, but I really don't mind.

Unlike other kids, Molly is a very gentle soul and always takes very good care of me. She has never even dropped me, not even by accident.

One day school had started for her again, we met during the summer holiday after all.

I felt sad to let her go, she wasn't allowed to take me with her.

Every time she came home, she looked a bit upset. She seemed to try to hide.

One day she asked me: "Dolly, can I ask you something?"

I could see tears welling up in her reddish eyes. "Dolly, do you hate me too?"

This broke my heart.

Of course I didn't hate her.

I would never.

She was my dearest friend.

My personal hero.

I felt awful, I couldn't do anything. I hadn't felt like this in a while, it was like I was back in that awful dark place. Where I would never be able to do anything.

I want her to be happy.

She doesn't deserve whatever she's dealing with right now.

Not with how kind and gentle she is.

And yet, I just can't do anything...

I wanted to talk to her, I wanted to support her or at least to be supported. Her mother is quite busy and didn't always seem to notice.

I wish I could let her know, even if it is only her.

But I am just an inanimate object, incapable of speech.

Tonight something awful happened...

Someone broke in.

It was unplanned, he didn't seem to know the layout of the house.

The burgler was probably looking for valuables.

Only Molly and her mother were at home that night.

Both asleep.

The man accidently entered the wrong room.

Molly and my room.

Molly is a very light sleeper and woke up by the gently creaking door.

She noticed the bugler and started to scream.

So he hit her, he didn't want any witnesses.

He was desperate.

He would even kill to get his prize.

He hit her again with his bat.

And again.

I could do nothing but watch this horrible scene in front of me.

I wanted to scream.

I wanted to save Molly.

He hit her again and she stopped crying, bleeding heavily.

Something snapped in me.

My emotions, but also my shackles which had kept me stuck for so many years.

I was going to kill him.

This man... had to go.

I don't know how, but I got out.

Out of my cell, which was my body.

Out of my dusty prison.

I shattered the room's window and with the glass shards, I pinned the man against the ceiling.

Anger.

Anger was the only feeling.

Anger and rage. Then maybe, also hate.

He screamed.

He cried.

It made me feel something... like joy.

Blood dripped down like a slow waterfall, creating a pool on the wooden floor.

Blood stained the carpet.

Bleed more...

BLEED MORE!!!

I think I killed him.

Did I go too far?

He stopped crying.

He stopped screaming.

Molly's mother runs into the room to save her.

I quickly return to my body, she probably hasn't seen me.

She screamed when she noticed the man on the ceiling.

She got her daughter out of that room as soon as possible, leaving me behind.

Leaving me behind in the mess I made.

I can see blue and red flashing lights outside.

The cops have arrived.

The paramedics as well.

Molly seemed to have had a slight concussion, lucky girl.

I'm so glad, it didn't get any worse.

Molly doesn't really know what happened though, probably just her child mind keeping her protected.

It has been a week and Molly is ready to return to school again.

And I guess I'm lucky too, it is take-your-toy-to-school day.

Molly has promised to take me.

I'm glad.

Now I can find out who made her upset like before.

And now I can do something about it.

With my new power, I will surely be able to make her happy again.

If I could travel back in time

This is a short horror story I wrote.

TW: Gore, psychological horror

If I could travel back in time, I would have changed a lot of things.

Would you?

I wouldn't just do better at everything or undo certain mistakes, I would probably become your friend.

Do you remember, when we were little, that we actually lived quite close to each other? Y'know when you're born here you just don't seem willing to leave. All the locals have this problem.

Well anyway, your house was just a couple of streets away from mine.

Back then we even went to the same kindergarten, we would play in the sandbox together from time to time. You were almost always the quiet one in class, I was the only one wanting to interact with you.

Even with all that I wish I had gotten to know you better.

Our parents could have been such good friends, they share some of the same interests, don't they?

We could go anywhere we wanted together, maybe catch a movie or go swimming?

I know you liked those things back then.

I wish we still had that time.

We didn't go to the same elementary school, but if I could go back, I would have made sure we went together.

You were really into board games back then, right? Did you like chess? A classic, I know. I totally suck at it, but I think that game fits you. We still could have played it together.

Do you remember around that time my aunt's dog went missing, we never found out what happened to him. And that wasn't the only missing animal from around that time.

I wish I could go back, since around that time I could still change the outcome.

We did have junior and high school together.

You got bullied around this time, you didn't accept help from anyone and I never got close to you. I'm sorry.

If I had just one chance to go back, I would show you that the world is still filled with kind people who love to help others. We would have gone to the same classes, have the same boring teachers and maybe break some rules for fun. We could do our internships together or work at the same place.

But it's too late now.

After school I would take you traveling, to see the world. Like I did before, just not with you.

If you wanted to go to a city, we could maybe go to London or even Paris. Not sure where we would get the money, but if I time traveled I could probably win us a lottery or something.

Maybe you prefer nature, then we could visit Canada or Iceland. I sure would have loved to go there someday. And you do seem more like the type to enjoy nature.

Anyway I'm sure we could have had a lot of fun.

So why... even if you don't know me...

We could start working for the same company, somewhere you feel at rest... at peace. No bullying, no annoying bosses that force their employees to work themselves half to death.

It might be boring to your standards, but I could make it more fun for you.

When you would feel down, I would make you feel better. If you would be sick, I would come visit you and make you soup.

I would do so much for you, just to make sure this wouldn't happen. We would have been the best of friends. We would be inseparable.

I try so hard to imagine you as a good person, as a good human being.

Like a good friend.

But it's just stupid.

I can't think of anything good about you.

I didn't know you back then, but now I do.

Imagining good things or fun situations with you, just feels awful.

I know I wasn't there for you in your darkest moments, but I never wronged you or hurt you.

So why?

Oh well, it doesn't matter.

It's just too late.

For you and for me.

I already suspected you for a while, even when the police didn't find enough evidence.

Well you sure did what I expected you to do. I don't know why I even went with you., but I went prepared.

Now I lie here, just like the others. With a bloody red neck tattoo and dirt in my face.

I don't feel anymore.

I don't see anymore.

My hands are like ice.

Just like them.

Just like you soon.

You were stressed this time.

I could feel it.

You weren't careful enough

I fought back, but even though I didn't survive I got evidence of your crime.

I also have people already looking for me as I lie here, staring empty at you shoveling more dirt to cover my ghostly pale body.

This never had to have happened.

Well I don't really care about what will happen to you anymore.

But I'm certain you will be found, you will be taken.

You will be put in a small, dark room. Darker than your soul.

You will spend your eternity there until we will come to pick you up.

Oh, just you wait until we get you...

Do you remember?

I hope you all had a great christmas!!

Here is another short horror story I wrote recently, that I thought to be fitting:)

Word count: 362

TW: horror

Do you remember?

The falling snow?

The warmth of the fire?

The kind smile on your mother's face?

That day we met... do you remember?

That day, many, many years ago.

When you came by and we became fast friends.

You were so kind.

I didn't have any friends, but you wanted to be mine.

I have always really appreciated that from you...

Your kindness.

Your openness to whomever, whatever...

Remember when we first played outside together?

The crunching of freshly fallen snow underneath our feet.

The woods surrounding your house, slowly getting darker and darker.

That day we completely lost track of time.

That day was truly amazing.

Remember that day when there was a snowstorm outside?

We couldn't play outside, so we sat by the warm fire in the living room.

We played with your toys and told each other stories.

I still remember all of them.

Do you?

Do you remember our first sleepover?

We talked and talked, until your mother came to your room, telling us to be quiet.

At night it would start storming and you tried to keep me from getting scared.

So warm, so gentle.

But now... you've changed.

You've... gone cold in a way.

Still breathing, yes, but you feel like a colder person now.

Do you even remember who you used to be? What you used to be like?

Has it really been that long?

Is there something I should remember?

When you just looked at me, you made a face like you were looking at vermin.

Remember the crunching of snow, remember the crackling of the fire, remember our laughter from those many, many days gone by.

I guess it's time.

Nothing else to be done other than this.

If I leave you like this...

You're going to be wasting away.

You're going to rot.

You're going bad.

You'll be spoiled before long.

I guess to you I might not even be vermin, I honestly think more that you might see me as a monster.

I'm different from you.

I scare you.

I scared your family.

Well I might be truly a monster to your kind.

Hiding in the shadows.

Eating creatures that are still alive.

Drinking their blood.

Most of your kind don't do that... right?

Or perhaps they do in some other way?

Do you remember?

Because I don't.

My head is too busy thinking.

Thinking about how I will stop playing with my food.

Yes, you guessed right.

You are.

Because if I don't... you'll expire.

Recently I had a pretty strange dream.

In it I finished a Resident evil 7/8- like game and unlocked a special mode in which the game suddenly turned in this weird interactive reality tv-show about the final boss and the protagonist swapping homes for a week or so.

The protagonist (who spend the week in that huge horror mansion) was all like "Great place, nice staff, though it's unfortunate that the toilets are always clogged."

And the end boss started talking about how he had always wanted to live in a tiny house (the protagonist had a normal house, pretty big for just one person) and had always been wanting to try and be self-sufficient.

All this in a horror game...

When I woke up I thought it was unfortunate that there isn't any game I know of that does this. I think it would be pretty funny.

Angelic monster

A short horro story I wrote:)

TW: Blood & psychological horror

I've been such a coward.

Never before have I stooped this low.

Never before have I done something like this out of fear.

Yes, it's all because of a fear that can thoroughly be explained and the reason is an understandable one.

But somehow the feeling I got from doing it hasn't left me.

It's like it's slowly rubbing my back, poisoning my skin.

It has burned itself deep into my soul and the chills I got from that day still haven't disappeared in the slightest.

I dislike this feeling.

I hate this memory.

It feels like I will have to watch my back until my last breath.

That day I went with my students to do research on a strange cave that had been recently found, I'm a teacher you see.

We were driven there by the group that secretly had been holding my family hostage, I knew, but pretended not to and I was lucky that none of my students noticed.

The group wanted me to investigate this cave in order for more power.

It was said that monsters had been created from this cave.

The research I had done before had proven that somehow it's real.

That's when they found out.

My God, why did I have to find it?!

Why did I have to be the one to do this?

If I could go back in time...

Well it doesn't matter anymore now, everyone is dead.

All my students have been killed, every single one of them.

I still remember all their faces, I still remember their ideas, their wishes and the possible futures they could have had.

Well... I don't really want to go on about them anymore.

We found and caught the monster that was needed for the group's project. They needed a weapon and that's the one they wanted.

A monster that could destroy cities with ease.

Somehow the one we found looks much different from what had been foretold in the stories I had studied, no hairy paws or yellow eyes, but it was a monster nonetheless.

A monster of great skill and strength beyond that of a simple human being.

Now years later, the monster sits before me.

It has an almost angelic appearance, with white wings on its back like a lower class angel from the bible.

Its skin is dark grey, its form almost human, and covered with small white feathers, except for on its neck, face and claws. The head somehow has longer feathers growing out of it, like the hair on a human's head.

Its claws are like a combination of that from a bird and the hands of a person.

Having five 'fingers' on each hand that are more longer and slender than that of a human being and of course ending in sharp nails.

The other researchers and I have been unable to find out the gender of the creature, which is another strange thing. But then again, it's just a monster, nothing more, nothing less. It has already killed so many.

It snuffed out their lives like it was nothing and it will surely do so again.

Somehow, by continued teaching it has mastered the human language.

And now it sits before me, eerily calm.

There is a thick glass wall between us, since this monster is being used by the group as a weapon and is of course still a danger to everyone.

"Professor, what is it that you wanted to talk about?" the monster asks politely.

I can feel myself growing irritated by its tone.

Since when did it believe to address me by 'Professor'? That was reserved for my students, not this monstrosity.

Still I decide to let it slide for now, I don't want to anger it.

"Well..." I hesitate, while mustering up the courage: "It's about that day."

"I see." The monster looks down, does it remember? Does it feel guilt for what it has done?

"The day you found me, I assume." It guesses.

I nod: "That day I will never forget how you slaughtered my students." I almost growl at it whilst glaring.

"I didn't." It answers as if trying to hide its guilt.

I hate it.

I hate this monster.

"I want to know what went down there." I demand it: "How did you get there and why were you there?"

The monster hesitates for a moment but then begins to answer: "Well, I don't remember too much about that place. I believe that there are things I don't know about it at all."

"Be more clear."

"Yes, professor, I'm sorry."

"Quit calling me that." I guess I'm saying it now anyways.

It stops for a moment, almost looking shocked from my sudden burst of anger. Well it probably doesn't feel that anyway, I must have imagined it.

Then it nods as I sign to it that it should continue.

"From what I heard about the cave, it could be used as a way to conjure up monsters or demons."

"Go on."

"I don't think you would want to hear it."

"Continue." I say glaring at the monster.

It sighs in discomfort and then does as told: "I believe that there is something inside that cave that has the ability to turn something or someone who enters into a so-called monster."

"Yes, we noticed with the rat."

"Pro- erm, I mean sir, why did those students got sent inside? If you knew-."

I don't let it finish: "It was an emergency."

I was powerless that day, I couldn't do anything. It's not my fault.

"So, then do you remember entering the cave?"

To my displeasure the monster shakes its head: "No I don't. There are no memories from before I awoke."

"Awoke?"

"The moment I heard their screams."

"Well you are the monster of that place after all."

"Sir, I actually don't believe that to be the case."

Annoyed, I look at it: "And what the hell does that mean?"

"Like some of the other scientists say, I don't believe to have come from there, nor am I the creature you have been looking for. I'm just too different."

"They are just toying with you, giving you false hope, you're a monster after all."

Is it just me or did it seem slightly annoyed when I called it what I did?

No that can't be.

For a moment it remains silent.

"But then, isn't the monster in this situation yourself?" The monster then asks me as if it was something completely normal.

"What?! No! You're the monster, you are the reason they died." I panic, wondering what it is trying to do to me..

"I didn't kill them. I tried to save them all."

"Bullshit! You killed them, you were covered in blood when we found you!" I yell as I feel my face growing red. Why would it say such terrible things?

Somehow the monster remains completely calm.

"I didn't kill them." It repeats: "I tried to save them, but the one who went rampant was already killing the others even before I awoke."

"SHUT UP!"

But the monster continues: "I saved one person though, the girl, one of your students, she left the cave alive."

Rage has filled my mind and I'm unable to think clearly.

"I didn't do anything wrong!!!" I yell, slamming my fist against the glass.

But then calmly the angelic monster throws the undeniable truth in my face:

"Wasn't it you who pulled the trigger?"

The old street musician

A short horror story I wrote.

TW: Short horror story, faeries I guess. they can be pretty creepy

The room is filled with the welcoming aroma of hot freshly made coffee. I'm sitting on one of the café tables, the one in the corner with the best view out of a big window.

The room is filled with the sounds of the coffee machines boiling, the soft sound of people whispering and my quick tapping on my laptop's keyboard.

I work as a translator and prefer to do my work in cozy places like this one, as do many others.

After a couple of hours a group of teenagers enter. They seem to change the atmosphere that was previously here, now instead of calm, working people, some of them get irritated.

The teens are quite loud and don't really seem to care about others, but I well, I honestly don't care. I'm more annoyed at the people hissing like cats and sighing like they are nearing their last day.

The group takes a table close to me and start talking in excited voices, mostly about school and friends.

Then suddenly the girl with pigtails points out of the window.

She is pointing across the street to an old street musician. I have seen him quite often here, I think he might always be sitting there. Whenever I give him some coins or just listen to him plays he always gives me this sad smile. It always makes me wonder how he got there. I have never even heard him uttering a single word, he is always silent, but plays wonderfully. It makes the city all the more livelier.

"Isn't that guy a bit creepy?" He just sits there all day and probably all night only making music."

A girl with a blue dress answers: "Yeah, I think so too. Why do you think that is?"

A boy with a green shirt cut's in: "Isn't it obvious, he is probably sitting there to ensure his alibi."

The boy in red laughs: "What? Do you mean to say that, this old man is secretly something like a serial killer?"

"That's so creepy..." Pigtails shares.

"Why else would he be there? Aren't most homeless criminals?" Green asks.

"What if he is waiting for his long lost family to finally return?" Blue says, seemingly unsure of her own answer.

"Nah, that's too good to be true, he has to have been at least a criminal at some point. Probably just a drunkard or a drug dealer." Red shares with confidence.

Then their conversation starts getting to a lot of other topics, I don't care about and try to continue my work.

Unfortunately, they only seem to get louder and I decide it's time to take a break and leave the café to wander off somewhere in the city.

Somewhere I buy a new agenda, the year is almost over anyway and I still don't have a new one.

After wandering around and browsing countless shops for hours, I notice it getting darker outside. It is of course almost winter, so I decide to walk to the bus stop to go home.

On my way back there I walk past the old musician, still playing beautifully on his old and beaten up accordion. His cold hands moving skillfully over the right keys.

I stop, search my pockets for some spare change. Yep, I still got some on me.

I turn around and gently put some coins in the basket. They make a small clinging sound as they all reach the bottom.

As I want to walk away, the man suddenly stops playing.

Then he speaks.

"Young lass, please listen. There is something important you need to hear."

I turn to face him: "Sure, I still have some time to kill, anyway."

His face seems slightly more panicked than normal.

"I know it's gonna sound like an old man's ramblings, but please. Spare me a bit of ye'r time."

I nod and take a step closer.

"I need ye to get away from here and never return. Ye've always been a very kind lass, when ye pass by you always pay attention and ye always seem to look out for others too."

He seems to be having a difficult time telling me. He's fidgeting and sweat appears on his forehead.

"Young lass, du'n listen to the faeries."

I'm kind of shocked, but I don't want to judge him either. I will let him talk, he clearly needs it of his mind. Not that I believe everything, but I won't let him know.

"I know I sound like a crazy old gee-"

"Don't worry, I'm be listening."

"Thanks"

There is that sad smile of his again.

"In a few days, maybe even tonight this place will cease to exist. Hundreds of years ago the people built this city on a faery village, ruined it, burned it to the ground. Then made this city with their ashes. Of course the faeries were angry at the people, war between the two raged for years till one day a musician came forward. He was able to play so bloody good that he could make the faeries sleep.

When he died his son took over and the son after and so on. I am the last musician, when my day comes, dear lass, this city will be gone. There won't be a musician anymore to keep the faeries asleep. And my day is approaching at great speed, since ye'r the kind soul that always sticks around, I want you to be save. So please lass, leave and never come back. Because when you do, you too will be taken."

I look at him, not sure what to say or do.

This short moment of silence feels like an eternity. "Alright, I won't return."

"Ye promise, lass?"

"I promise."

"Good, that makes this old man happy to hear."

I give a short nod. "Well, my bus could be here any second now, so I will be going. Goodbye sir. Take care."

"Farewell to ye too, lass. Thank you for listening and understanding!"

We wave, say our goodbyes and I leave for the bus stop, I'm there just in time and can hop on immediately.

After paying the driver I walk to sit in the back of the vehicle.

As the bus starts driving, I stare out of the window. Watching the illuminated city by the many yellow lighted lanterns.

Then when we pass the old musician, just before we take a right turn. I see it.

In a flash, I see what the man meant.

My blood freezes.

The old man is lying on the ground, arms and legs in horrifying, impossible positions. Broken most likely.

There is blood, a lot of it and... Something is standing next to him.

All I can say is, that's definitely not a human being.

The arms are too thin, almost branch-like.

It has glowing eyes.

Oh God...

It has seen me...

When death visits

A Short horror story I wrote.

Word count: 889

TW: Death, ghosts

It's calm and quiet in my house.

So quiet has it never been before.

The silence is scaring me, making me feel all cold inside.

It makes me feel so lonely, even though it hasn't been so long since the last guest left.

I'm all alone in this giant mansion, I've tried everything, but escape seems to be impossible for me.

I'm stuck in the main hall.

I have tried every door, even upstairs. But to no avail, I guess I'm just stuck here until someone finds me.

Although, not every guest is a welcome one, of course.

After a while of trying everything that I could possibly do, including breaking down doors or walls (this failed horribly), I finally gave up.

So I took a seat on the stairs, in the middle of the big hall.

Fortunately I still have the candles giving me light, outside it is pitch black.

It is strange, even outside it seems to be quiet.

I have lived in this building my whole life and there has always been at least some sounds, like the creaking of old planks or the trees brushing against each other outside. But today it is different.

No sound, not a single noise. There is only silence.

Even though I live with more than just myself, no one seems to be here.

Something is very wrong here.

I close my eyes and start praying.

I am not even religious, but I really don't know what else I should do. Fortunately it helps me calm down a bit.

When I close my eyes, I feel as one with the house.

I can feel the rooms almost like they are my own limbs, I can feel everything inside, but there is no other living being. Not even the spiders in the cellar or the cat in the kitchen.

While in this praying state, I look in each and every room, looking for something or someone that could be useful to helping me escape this nightmare.

I am so used to this house, that I know every little crook and cranny like no one else.

I look at my bedroom, I look at the bathrooms, the old ballroom and yet I can't seem to notice anything outside.

All the doors are locked.

All of a sudden a strong wind from outside blows against the house, making it creak like never before and then the rain starts.

At first tapping softly, but changing rapidly in a storm. All this causes the chandelier to swing gently from right to left.

Shocked by the sudden explosion of sound, I bury my head in my hands.

How long has it been silent? I wonder.

How long have I been sitting here? On the stairs, doing nothing in the middle of this empty building?

And so I sit here silently, until I get used to all the sounds again, calming myself with empty thoughts.

I just listen.

I just listen to the wind and to the house.

To the heavy rain and the ancient wood.

To the chandelier moving.

At first I thought it was lightning, but now I know that is not what it sounds like.

It is a window. A window that shattered. The sounds of broken shards, flying across a dark, empty room.

Something is inside...

Something broke the glass...

It broke something, I couldn't.

Again I close my eyes and start praying, I can feel something moving around in the house.

It is not human. Nor is it an animal.

With every cold step it takes, my terror grows. I freeze up, unable to move.

WHAM!!!

A door slams open.

It didn't even need to touch the knob.

The invader leaves the path behind itself filled with cold, oh it is so cold...

It breaks, whatever is in its way.

I can feel my heart racing.

KKKRRRRRKKKKKK!!!

The other sound of a door screaming in pain while being broken and trampled.

The steps keep getting closer.

I can feel it.

I know everything about this place.

All the blood in my body turns to ice.

CRRRREAAAKKKKK!!!!

The loud noise is followed by a soft, almost unhearable thud of the falling lock.

I can't believe it, it just ripped it off the door completely.

Again without touching.

Why is this happening to me?

I squeeze my eyes shut. I don't want to see.

Another awful sound and I protect my ears with my hands.

No more, please no more!!

I don't want to hear it, I don't want to see it, I don't want to feel it...

But it doesn't matter, I can still feel every step it takes.

Getting closer and closer, in an inhuman speed.

I start to wonder if it is really walking, it might as well be floating.

Then it enters the great hall.

The room I'm in.

A cool wind blows out the candles, leaving me almost in complete darkness. The only light is that of the outside.

I don't want to look, I don't want to know.

Please don't make me!

Now the entire house has cooled down and the only slightly warm thing is my own breath, which is also cooling down rapidly.

It has stopped walking for a bit.

Determent I keep my eyes shut, holding my breath, acting like I am not there.

Maybe it won't see me.

Maybe it won't come for me.

But no, it is here for me and only me.

A cold, bony hand wraps itself around my shoulders, making me as cold as the house itself. As cold as it.

I still refuse to look, I don't want to see whatever nightmare is looking at me like I'm its friend.

The tears of fear on my cheeks have become ice crystals.

Death is here.

And it is here for me. 

The flames in her eyes

The most recent short story I wrote.

I wouldn't call it horror, but to some it might be seen as frightening or dark. Personally I find it to be closer to fantasy.

Word count: 2298

This place, if I can call it that, feels like the strangest place I’ve ever been.

It’s so very cold here, although that might also just be my own body temperature, coming from within me. Am I cooling down this place? Though there still remains the slight chance of me being wrong about everything.

It’s far too dark to see, pitch black, darker than any place I’ve ever been .

Darker than the most cloudy of nights.

Darker than my room with the curtains closed at night.

I quietly wonder if I’m still asleep after all and decide to take a step forward to test this theory.

Unexpectedly I drop onto an unfamiliar floor.

So… I was standing when I awoke?

Not lying down?

With my hands I blindly scan the texture of the floor.

It’s colder than the air, my fingers run over something that feels like old tiles.

Damnit, why does it have to be so dark in here? If I could just see, I could have avoided falling.

Then the real question hits me: How the hell did I get here?!

Abduction?

I don’t remember a thing.

A nightmare?

It’s too real for that.

Should I wait? Would that be better? Maybe someone will rescue me.

Or perhaps this is a dream in which I must first die to wake up again?

But then I would need to get up and walk around…

After a couple of minutes of contemplating my choices, I finally decide that it’s time to get up again.

Almost embarrassingly childlike I stumble around in the dark.

Tripping over my own feet and at times an alien object, I finally reach something that could possibly be a wall.

Gently running my hands around me, I find another wall that seems to be made of something like metal bars, like those inside a prison cell. Too tight too escape from.

Still following this one might bring me to the exit.

I use the cold, rusty bars in order to move around, they feel old.

Taking one after another I carefully make my way forward.

Had this been a prison at some time? I question myself in silence.

Right, the silence.

This place seems to almost be completely without sound.

No noise of the wind, not even a little bit. Though I guess if I really want to hear it, I can just wave my arms around really quickly and create something like it.

Furthermore, there are no voices, no breathing from any other possible creature within this place.

I wonder if this might be normal or abnormal here, though both fill me with a sense of fear.

I feel my way out of the room, it seems like I’ve not been imprisoned.

Still I don’t feel any relief, because it seems to be terribly dark everywhere around me.

I find myself in what I believe to be a hallway, the walls stretch out always further than I anticipate and are made of a different kind of stone from the walls inside the cell.

I’m starting to lose hope and am just able to stop myself from panicking.

I don’t think I will get out of here.

And perhaps that might be for the best.

My thoughts turn darker than wherever I am, like it’s trying to swallow me whole. Dragging me deeper down with each desperate escape I try to make.

Perhaps I’ve been eaten by some kind of giant creature…?

If it was a creature, it would probably still be warm.

Finally I decide it’s enough and sit down hopelessly on the floor.

Yet no tears leave my eyes, they’re useless anyway.

I sit.

I wait.

I pluck my clothes, until it tires me.

I wait.

My body has now almost completely turned as cold as the floor.

My thoughts, only turning darker and darker.

I close my eyes. Well I’m not sure, perhaps they’re still open. It’s too dark to see.

I wait.

Suddenly something wakes me up as it tumbles over me. Something moving.

“Ouch.” I say even though it doesn’t hurt.

“Oh my gosh, I’m so, so sorry!” The voice breaking the silence startles me.

Echoing, I can make out that the voice most likely belongs to a girl in her late teens.

“Wait, someone else is here?” She asks frightened: “I thought I was all alone.”

“I thought so too, but I guess that’s not the case.” I answer as calmly as possible.

I feel a warm hand helping me stand back on my own feet.

“You’re so cold.” The girl whispers: “How long have you been sitting here?”

I shrug: “No idea.”

I hear her hair moving, most likely she’s turning her head to face me.

And then, I finally see something.

In the eyes of the girl, I spot what seem to be two little flames.

Two blue dancing little flames.

Two little flames that seem to have not lost hope.

Two little flames that want to escape this darkness and return back to the world of light.

“What’s going on with your eyes?” I ask without thinking.

“What do you mean?” She asks surprised.

“It’s like there’s fire coming out of them.”

She giggles: “Yeah sure, the chances of you starting to see things thanks to lying on this cold floor for so long, is pretty damn high.”

Ignoring her I ask: “Do you happen to know a way out?”

“What do you think? I almost can’t see a thing.”

“Almost?”

“Yeah, sometimes only a wall when it’s near and of course my own hands.”

I move my hands, but don’t see them. I can’t see the walls either.

“Really?” I ask.

Could it be that she’s somehow able to see more in this darkness?

She giggles again: “You really can’t see anything? You should be able to see your own hands at least.”

“No…” I hesitatingly answer, shaking my head: “But I can see your eyes.”

“That’s weird, maybe you're imagining it?” It’s clear as day that she’s not taking me seriously.

Ignoring her tone I ask: “Should we try to get out together?”

“Yes please, I’m super glad I’m not alone anymore.” I can hear a sense of fear in her voice, she seems desperately trying to hide.

The girl takes my hand, probably that there’s no way I would be able to find her once lost.

I mumble a thanks and we start walking.

“Are we inside some kind of labyrinth?” The girl complains as we find another wall.

“That might just be the case.” I answer now slightly annoyed by the girl.

“You know, it would help if you weren’t so cold all the time.”

“Sorry.” I apologize. I’ve been told this many times before. That I should act warmer if I want to have a good life. Yet, I’ve found it to be rather difficult. I’ve known what it’s like to be too warm and kind. You often get used by others.

I’ve learned my lesson and cut people off, blocked them away from me. It’s safer that way.

Feeling around with my free hand I suddenly notice a crack inside a wall.

“Hey, could you check this out?” I ask the girl.

“Sure.” In my mind she shrugs as she answers, perhaps she really did it, perhaps she didn’t.

“I think… we can break this down.” She whispers as she lets go of my hand.

I can hear her rummaging around, most likely taking out loose bricks.

“Do be careful that it won’t fall on us.” I warn her.

“Leave it to me, I can see it… though slightly. I believe this should be able to be opened up.”

I take a step back and let her handle it.

She takes out brick after brick.

“I think it’s big enough for both of us to fit through now.” She finally whispers.

She takes my hand again and leads me through the narrow hole in the wall and we enter a new place.

Probably the same as the one before.

“Is this just like the rest?” I ask.

She takes me further away from the hole and touches another wall: “Yeah, we’re still stuck in this labyrinth.”

Suddenly I spot something out of the corner of my eye and quickly take the girl further back, to the other side, away from whatever that is.

“What’s wrong?” She asks slightly frightened.

“I think… someone is there.” I whisper to her.

I see two large flames welling up in the distance.

“Are you sure?” The girl asks.

I nod, but of course she won’t be able to see that.

Carefully I try to lead the girl further back, but am only greeted by a cold wall against my back.

Too late.

The flames look our way.

At first I believe to hear something crackle, only to realise that it’s laughing. Laughing of an old woman.

“You don’t have to hide for me, dear girls.” She laughs in a sweet voice: “I may be old, but my eyes can still see very well.”

I can feel the girl trembling: “How… how is it possible for you to see us?”

“What do you mean, dear child? There is enough light to see everything.”

“No, that’s not true… it’s pitch black, I can barely spot my arms before me.”

Still holding onto each other we slowly walk towards the older woman with her flaming eyes.

Her voice turns to me and so do her flames.

“Can you two really not see anything?”

The girl answers for me: “She can’t, I can just see a little.”

“Do you know a way out?” I ask the older woman.

I see her flames moving, almost as if shaking her head: “No, unfortunately not. Though I believe that now that we’re not alone anymore, we will find a way out much easier.”

I guess she isn’t the one who has brought us here, if it even was someone.

“Let me come with you, we might find our way out quicker.”

I look at her flames and nod.

“My child, how were you able to see me, if you can’t see anything else?” The old woman asks questioningly.

Before I can answer, the girl does it for me: “She keeps saying that she sees the flames in other’s eyes. Still it’s probably just-“

“So you can see the flames of other people’s souls?” The older woman doesn’t allow the girl to continue.

I shrug: “I don’t know… it’s probably just all in my head. I’ve never seen anything like that in my ordinary life outside of this place.”

“Here’s a mirror. Can you hold it by yourself?” The old woman shoves a cold and heavy object in my hands, almost having me slip it out of my hands. Hurting my fingers to keep it steady.

I try to look at it, but there is no reflection of my own flames, if I even have them.

“Well, do you see them?” the lady asks, way too enthusiastic.

I shake my head and answer with a plain: “No.”

Both of them take a stand next to me, probably looking in the mirror.

Then I see something inside of it.

The flames.

Their flames.

So… I don’t have them?

Could it be that… I’m soulless?

“So? What do you see?”

“I see nothing, but the reflection of yours.” I answer honestly.

“That’s unfortunate.” The woman says, sounding deep in thought: “Could it be… that you had a not so fortunate life?”

As I remain quiet, she apologises: “I’m sorry, it’s not my place to ask such questions. But if you need someone to listen to you, I’m more than willing to help you lighten that burden of yours.”

“Thanks.” I say, though slightly annoyed. I don’t like people poking into my problems.

The old woman leads us through the hallways, making sure, neither I nor the girl end up falling over something.

“You two should be thankful that you can’t truly see this place. Something horrible has taken place here.”

“I see.” I answer coolly.

“Don’t be like that!” The girl starts panicking.

The woman laughs joylessly: “I’m sorry, I’m sorry.”

“Why did you have to say that? Now I can only imagine all the shapes as dead bodies.”

The woman remains quiet.

So that must be the case.

Still, there don’t seem to be enough to cover the entire floor. Since the older lady is able to guide us through them so well.

“Gosh, this seems to be a dead end.” The woman sighs.

“Really?! I don’t want to go back there!” The girl cries out.

Carefully I let go of the girl’s hand, something has taken my attention.

There is something shining dimly straight ahead of me, it’s unlike the flames of my two companions.

Somehow friendly and familiar.

“What’s over there?” I ask while straying away from the others.

“You shouldn’t go there!” The girl calls out, but even though her voice sounds terrified, I don’t listen.

I feel like the light is calling me.

“My child! You shouldn’t venture there!” The old woman calls out to me, her ancient voice trembling in anguish: “Terrible things have happened there!”.

But I ignore her as well.

I feel myself walking into something like a puddle, too thick to be water, but I decide not to think about it.

The light is getting closer and closer, brighter and brighter.

“Ma’am, please get back here!”

“You’ll hurt yourself if you continue!”

I feel something sharp digging itself into my right leg.

Quickly I kneel down to push whatever it is away, but it starts digging deeper into it.

It hurts.

It hurts so fucking much!

Every time I try to reach it, my hands seem to slip away, whatever I’m standing in is way too thick to be just water.

Don’t think about it.

Don’t think about it!!!

As I’m finally able to take out whatever it is, I notice that little lights are dropping down.

I try to look at what I believe to be up, only to find out that the small lights are coming from me.

I smirk, I guess I’m not soulless after all.

I hear both women behind me yell at me to return, screaming for the fear I might get hurt or lose my life.

I don’t pay it any attention and continue.

The light I see behind that door.

My own tears seem to be leading me there as well, dropping quietly without sound, slowly they turn dark like everything around me, just showing small pieces of my path.

I reach out my arm for the light.

But instead of holding something warm, it’s something cold.

It’s an old door handle.

Very, very old. Something I would expect to find inside an ancient castle.

As I hold it, all the light fades once more and I open the door.