Sleep Paralysis

Dreamselling

My most recent short horror story.

Word count: 748

TW: Existential horror/dread

To sell your dream.

Dreamselling

Sold dreams

Someone decides their dreams impossible and sells them to someone without dreams

"I've had it!" I yell: "Mine is just simply unachievable!"

My colleague laughs: "Some dreams just are that way, many people here sell them, here there's no need for them anyway. Dreams just get in the way of getting finished."

We're sitting inside the grey lunch room of our workplace.

I turn to him and lean back: "Did you sell yours?"

A proud smile crosses his face: "Of course I did, daydreaming doesn't get you anywhere and I earned money with it too!"

I shake my head: "I don't think that it's the right thing to do."

"Why not?" He looks surprised.

A colourful memory comes back to me, one from very long ago, when I was still a child. I was playing in the green grass of my grandmother's garden. In both the bright yellow of the sun and the shade of an old tree from which the pink leaves almost seemed to glow.

That day so many years ago I told her my dream, the one I still hold to this day.

"That is such a wonderful dream, don't ever give up on it okay?" My grandmother told me after listening to it. I was so happy to hear those words, she wanted me to achieve that dream.

"So, why haven't you sold it yet?" My colleague asks again, taking me out of the blissful memory.

I shrug.

He continues: "If you do, you don't ever have to complain about it anymore. Life is so much lighter and happier without it."

"I know, I know... Live in the moment, right?"

He nods proudly: "I knew you would come to understand it."

The bell buzzes, letting us know that it's time to go back to work.

Back in my spot I think back about the conversation, should I do it? Should I not do it?

Honestly the dream hurts, I'm far from the place where I truly want to be.

As I get back to my apartment I find a bill lying on the floor by the door.

Damn, I guess I'll be losing a big chunk of my loan again.

Hesitantly I open the letter and look pained towards the many numbers.

Will I have enough to escape during the holiday? Or not?

I let out a long sigh and head to bed.

Closing my eyes I only find nightmares to haunt me, to taunt me.

This dream of mine is really that bothersome... isn't it?

After another day of work I feel more and more overwhelmed. Should I make the appointment? Would that bring happiness in my life?

It takes a while before I finally decide to go through with it...

"Please." The doctor gestures towards the bed and I lie down on it.

He notices that I'm a bit hesitant: "Don't worry, you will only come out a better person." He tells me in his kind voice.

I nod in response and the doctor pushes the bed with me on it into the machine.

There really is no going back now.

By the memory of my grandmother's words I start to quietly sob.

I'm sorry grandma, I'm really sorry, but I can't live with such an unachievable dream. Only to see others that have already achieved and others that already live that life that I want. It's better for me to leave it behind, to burn it, to let it be eaten by the flames. To leave it for another with a better chance.

The following years I work hard, get promoted multiple times and climb into the highest ranks. It's not because I want to go there, it's just because I don't care. Once you do something good enough you get faster at it too.

A colourful scene appears before me once again, it has been so long and yet in a way it also seems to have the same dull and grey look as the rest of the world.

Do I remember it correctly?

This is what I originally wanted, right?

Why do I feel so empty?

I've achieved that what I once dreamed of.

Oh, right... It's because I sold it... right?

I don't dream of this anymore, so it's simply useless.

It doesn't bring me happiness.

It doesn't bring me joy.

Because I left it behind.

I left it for another. Something better with quicker satisfaction.

Why did I even decide to sell it in the first place?

I feel strange.

Is that the feeling of regret?

This thick, slowly slithering snake, showing me the emptiness of my heart.

Was it really just a dream that I sold? Or was it more than that?

Was the money that I received from it really worth it?

Book of the Apocalypse - Chapter 4 Nightmare

TW: Gore, blood

Word count: 778

First chapter:

I look up from the book, this wasn't really the kind of story I was suspecting.

"How far did you get?" Quiller asks me not hiding his interest at all.

"I finished... the first."

He sighs: "Not the fastest reader, are you?"

I look at him, annoyed: "I read at my own speed.... reading just like eating? The slower you read, the more you... enjoy it."

"Alright, alright. So, did you-?"

"Nah."

"What?"

"I thought... it was going to be cooler, maybe something with heroes. Even a book about a ghost might... be interesting."

Utter defeat is written all over the 'imaginary' guys face, making me chuckle.

"You're mean."

"Kind people in an apocalypse are useless."

He looks at me for a moment and then asks: "So, you're going to throw it out now?"

I look at him: "Nah. It might become more... entertwini- entertaining later on." Speaking is still difficult, especially when I try to speak without mistakes.

He gives me a sad smile.

"Why do you care?"

He hesitates for a moment to answer.

"Well, like I said, It's a pretty good book."

I nod: "Yeah, you really aren't the... writer, right?"

He looks at me in shock: "N-no... I mean..."

"Just kidding, It just said Ex Libra's Q.F. Shannon. But that might mean it used to be yours." I'm not sure, but believe I might have used a wrong word there.

"I've never owned anything." Quiller protests: "I've always been imaginary."

If I were to throw away this book right now, I would probably lose my imaginary friend with it. Or at least that is my theory. I only met him after opening this thing after all.

Yeah, it might be strange for an adult to have one. But if this keeps me from going insane, then so be it.

I will be the most childish adult in this entire apocalypse.

Even if I'm all alone in it now.

I get up from the couch and start placing traps around.

"What are you doing?"

"Making sure I won't get... my sleep disturbed... by one of those... those half-dead jerks."

"I see." Quiller mutters, slightly hesitant probably due to me cursing again.

I lie down on the old couch.

Even though it's all dusty, I haven't had such a nice bed in ages.

I've gotten used to my jacket on the floor for a while now and it doesn't take long for me to fall asleep.

I'm sitting in something I recognize as a car.

I seem to be sitting here with a bunch of people with wiped out faces.

Even though that is the case I feel strangely at ease with them.

One of them turns to me and calls me by my name.

"Yes?" I ask and the other shows me a toy, a toy car? If I'm correct.

I look outside the windows and notice that we're driving.

We move around the corner and I see strange people standing outside.

Their eyes glow strangely blue.

The car crashes into something and the strange people outside start running towards us, their mouths covered in blood.

From one moment to the next, I notice that I'm standing outside and it's dark.

It's raining outside.

I hold up my hand to the rain.

It drips onto it and then a flickering streetlight shows me that there is something wrong with the rain.

It's red.

It's thick and red.

Falling out if the heavens like rain, blood keeps pouring down.

It starts to stick to the streetlight, making the only light in my world slowly disappear.

I run towards it for rescue, but it all turns dark just before I can reach it.

In the distance I hear growling...

My eyes flash open and I quickly sit up, completely out of breath.

What a horrible nightmare.

I guess even though I have a decent place to sleep, the nightmares are something I will never be able to get away from.

I look at the light entering the room via the clock.

I guess it's morning already.

This must be a good place to stay then.

I sit up and silently take out the old, worn map from it.

With a pen I mark the spot and write 'Clock/Attic' next to it, while using the book as support for the paper.

"Good morning." Quiller says, seeming a bit down.

"'Morning." I whisper, while looking at him questioningly.

"Don't worry, nothing happened while you were asleep. You did seem to be having a nightmare."

I shake my head: "What did you expect?" I nudge my head a little towards the window: "Be happy for the strength we gained from... a little shut-eye."

Unfortunately he doesn't seem to want to take the joke as a joke. Perhaps he didn't even notice.

"Life shouldn't be like this." He mumbles more to himself than to me.

I look at him with a sudden question burning in my mind: "Did you sleep on the floor? Or float?"

"Float? I'm not a ghost you know."

"Oh really?"

"I'm just a figment of your imagination."

"You keep that up, but really... it's getting harder to believe every time."

Just ignore it

One of the first stories I posted on wattpad.

On there I'm at 71 short horror stories right now, I'm not sure if I will ever post all of the stories I wrote before on tumblr, but here is one.

Word count: 1105

TW: Psychological horror

I look up at the old school building, just for a second I see the cracks. The surrounding plants around it have started growing inside. Some of the windows are broken.

The broken bell goes off and it almost sounds like a muffled scream.

I quickly go inside.

Inside the right classroom I take a seat at my table, it is a scratched old table with graffiti, not done by me.

Slowly the classroom fills with my 'classmates', these dolls with keys in their backs. They enter with their rattling keys and stiff movements. Opening and closing their wooden mouths, like they are talking to one another. I can't hear them, but I'm not interested anyway.

Lastly, the 'teacher' enters leaving its books on the desk and 'starting the lesson'.

I don't care to listen to the clacking of its mouth. It doesn't matter anyway, ignoring is for the best and pretending.

At some point the 'teacher' points at me and stops.

Carefully I stand and walk towards it, followed by the empty stares of the other painted wooden faces.

It is quiet.

It has always been quiet.

My 'teacher' seems to have stopped working, so I stand behind it and gently turn it's key until it starts working again.

Then just as quietly as before, I return to my seat.

I stare out of the window, without actually observing what is happening. Well nothing is happening really. Nothing ever is.

Just nature taking over this school, this empty building.

Even during break I just stare outside, while those dolls are clacking to each other.

If I go anywhere the dolls will be mean to me, they will sometimes throw things at me or clack mean things about me. So it is better just to remain in one place. They are defective.

I return home without looking back.

I live in an old dollhouse, it's almost completely empty and always silent.

I love the silence.

I enjoy the emptiness.

The rest of the house is just like the city with plants growing everywhere, inside and outside the buildings.

All buildings are slowly breaking apart and I just ignore it.

It's all fake anyway.

It's all useless anyway.

Nothing matters here, just that I do what I have to do and return 'home'.

The next day when I go to 'school', something strange happens.

The 'teacher' introduces a new 'classmate', another doll.

With a key and a painted face, just like any other.

It takes the empty seat next to me.

The new student seems to try to get my attention, but I just start doodling in my workbooks. Pretending I don't see or hear her.

The day passes by quite quickly, and I return to my old dollhouse.

I walk up the creaking stairs and past the rotting woodwork.

In my room I stare out of the hole in the roof, at the dark, starless abyss, most people call the sky.

And just like always, another day has passed.

The next day I do the same as all the previous days.

Stare out of the window, turn a key and return to my seat.

Then lunch comes around.

The new student is getting more annoying.

It has even started jumping in front of me to get my attention, which made the other dolls clack their mouths like they were laughing.

It's becoming more and more difficult.

Then suddenly it locks it's wooden hands around my wrist.

No matter how hard I struggle, It won't let me go.

Then it started walking and I am forced to follow.

We go up to the rooftop.

"I need you to listen." The voice coming out of the doll sounds vaguely human.

While blocking the only exit, it let's go of my wrist.

What does this thing want from me? None of them ever try to contact me as long as I ignore them, why does this one do?

The new student puts a hand under its chin, then a short click could be heard.

She removes her face, I guess she was wearing a mask.

I look at her face, her nose, her eyes, her eyebrows... Everything about her looks too familiar.

She looks like...

me...

Why does she look like me?

"I need to speak with you, please listen." She pleads with my voice.

I don't like where this is going and I take a step back. She doesn't seem to mind though.

"I need you to start looking around you and not ignore everything."

I remain silent.

"Remember what the doctor told us, about the ignoring of bullies and unfortunate situations? Well he was wrong."

I stay quiet and stare past her at the door, so close yet so far away. I just want to ignore her and continue my day.

"You can't ignore everything, you've already done that too much. You need help. You need to tell others about what's going on and learn not to just take everything."

So annoying.

"I don't care... I can just ignore it." I mumble to myself.

"Please don't." the other me pleads, her eyes starting to look red and watery.

I don't answer and take a few steps closer to the door.

"No you can't leave!" She yells.

I glare at her: "You're not supposed to exist. The doctor wasn't the only one who told me to just ignore it. Everything is better this way."

Defeated, she moves aside, her head hanging down: "S-so it has already gone this far... I see, it really is too late."

In silence I continue towards the door.

As my hand brushes the door handle she suddenly seems to want to give it one more try: "This whole city will collapse on top of us! It will kill us!"

"Then let it collapse. I can't go back to the time, when I still observed, when I still listened and I still felt everything. That time was hell. It was worse than death."

"But it is not too late. You can still get the help you need, before your world will collapse!"

"I don't want it."

I shove her aside and return to class.

The classroom looks more in disrepair than before we left, but I ignore it.

As school continues on, more cracks start appearing and I haven't seen the other me since I left her.

She probably won't return.

She must have left.

Given up entirely.

Well it's not like she could change my mind or anything.

She has no power over this place, unlike me.

I don't want to leave this place.

Yes, it's empty and it's lonely.

It might all be breaking apart, but this is my only safe haven. My own place of peace and quiet.

My own safe little world.

When the teacher stops working while pointing it's finger at me again, I turn the key on his back and return to my seat.

See, it all works perfectly fine.

I'm perfectly fine.

Nothing is wrong.

As long as I just ignore it all

And then at last the cracked walls can't hold the ceiling anymore.

I can hear its creaking.

But like always... I just ignore it.

Iris Coldon

My most recent short horror story:)

Word count: 761

TW: psychological horror

From the moment I closed my eyes to the accident I had gotten myself into I knew that it would never be the same ever again.

Never would I have guessed though, that I would survive pretty much unharmed.

Well… that’s still a bit of an understatement.

My arms and legs work the way they’re supposed to.

But my mind… not so much anymore.

I’ve started to see things.

The world and the people have changed since the moment I woke up.

It’s almost as if I’ve entered another world entirely.

But I know better now… or at least I believe I do.

It’s the same world, I’m just wrong.

It has been told to me over and over and over again.

The world hasn’t changed, just the way I perceive it.

The memories from back then are still all so fresh in my mind.

The people who walk this earth have all become eerily distorted to me.

Mouths gaping, eyes bulging.

Some had been reduced to mere shadows, others to grotesque monsters.

The world around me, the city, has turned to look in a worse state than it actually is. Houses broken down, abandoned by humanity.

Then there are these things I see happen.

Accidents like the one I had been in and even worse.

And yet all of it only happened in my head.

Life after the accident had been terribly difficult, I had to stay in the hospital even though I believed whole-heartedly that I was fine.

Monsters in stained lab coats came in and out of the room instilling me with the worst of fears.

I was soon after placed in an asylum, due to not being able to take care of myself anymore.

That’s where I met her.

A young woman who worked there, her name, Iris, Iris Coldon.

The first time I met her I was quite shocked to see her and felt quite dizzy.

Unlike the rest of humanity, she still looks human.

She spoke to me softly and kindly, it was like… whenever I am around her the world turns to the way it is supposed to be.

No monsters.

No abandoned buildings.

No more horrible accidents.

When she went away again I had a hard time sleeping and felt terrible.

Why couldn’t she just stay here?

Why couldn’t I go with her?

I know, I know… It’s just… to suddenly be thrown back into the world I was slowly getting used to was just really difficult.

Luckily she came back again the next day and the day after that. Well many days, almost visiting me every day, I found it to be very difficult when she didn’t.

Quickly I found it difficult to focus, always reacting to every sound hoping that it was her. I couldn’t, still can’t, concentrate on what the fellow patients here are telling me.

Those monsters won’t understand me anyway.

Today I made a decision.

I am going to tell her that I love her.

Because that must be it… right?

I love her and that’s what makes the world normal again… right?

Carefully I listen to everything going on outside of my room.

A doctor shuffles past my room.

A couple of patients wander past my door.

And then finally I recognize her footsteps.

With the usual smile, Iris opens the door.

“Iris! G-good morning.” I start rambling.

“Good morning.” She answers without paying attention to my stuttering: “Everything alright in here?”

I nod and she gives me another bright smile.

I look down and start fidgeting: “Actually… I need to tell you something.”

“What is it?” She asks, clearly interested in what I have to say.

Does she feel the same way about me?

For a moment I hesitate, but then gather my strength: “Iris… I… I think I like you. Like, like you… Love you.”

I’m too scared to look up at her.

I’m too scared of rejection.

For some strange reason she remains quiet.

Is she contemplating my confession?

I look up at her and smile worried: “Is something wrong?”

She smiles at me and I feel shadows returning to my world.

“Please don’t go!” I call out to her as I take her hand.

Somehow her hand feels strange.

Not warm, not cold either.

I can feel my body turn cold as I see her disappearing into thin air.

The hand in which I held her is now a small bottle.

For some reason I feel like she will never return to me again.

Dammit, there’s still so much I had wanted to ask her.

Before looking at it, I let the small bottle go from left to right in my hand.

Something feels terrible.

Then I finally decide to look at it.

It’s a bottle for medication.

The label says Cisordinol.

I stare vaguely at it for a moment, until the terrible truth finally hits me.

C I S O R D I N O L

I R I S C O L D O N

Book of the apocalypse - chapter 2

Chapter 2 - A place to rest

TW: Gore, psycological horror, spiders, depressing theme's

Word count: 801

Previous chapter:

"C'ome on! I even checked it for you, it should be safe enough."

"How can I... be sure of what... lies beyond if you... are... imaginary?"

Defeated, he sighs.

We have been arguing for a while now and the rain outside hasn't stopped at all.

"I'm going to...one of the stores... usually they have a room... in the back that can be... locked." Old words slowly enter my mind. I guess I didn't forget everything.

"But the clock tower has a better view, you can be certain of your surroundings and make better plans for when the rain stops!"

"Quiller... I am not going in there-!"

Quickly I place my hand in front of my mouth and stop talking.

I must have yelled too loud, because I hear something approaching us.

Something dragging.

Another walking faster.

Shit!

Taking out just one is already quite the feat, two might be impossible, especially in such a confined space.

I've lived like this for years, but only thanks to knowing when to run and when to fight.

After all... they aren't a lot like zombies from old moving pictures.

And it certainly wasn't a virus that caught them.

Not a virus any human or animal could have gotten.

Quickly and quietly I hide behind a corner.

I see the two- no... four!

There's four of them!

Goddammit!

They're still scanning their surroundings.

I just hope they don't-

The one that seems to be the leader looks straight at me, making a strange noise.

Quiller is standing by the door to the tower: "I think this really is our safest bet."

"You... you asshole, you knew didn't you?! You planned for this to happen!"

I don't look at his face, I don't want to look at it.

Wow, betrayed even by an imaginary fiend.

I hold my spear in a way to protect myself as one of them lunges at me.

Before I know it I'm surrounded.

Their half decaying flesh, half robotic faces look hungry at me.

"You assholes fight like... like bitches!" I yell at them, knowing full well the futility of it. The same strange words I recognize as curses leave my mouth one after another.

How strange... but it feels right.

Trying to give myself an escape route I slice off an arm from one of the creatures.

With a sloshy thud it falls onto the floor and rolls away.

Almost immediately a new arm starts to grow, one not made of flesh... but of some kind of metal.

A dark liquid spills onto the floor, smelling like a combination of something rotting and machine oil.

As I try to slice the new one off, I'm only able to dent it a little bit.

I feel my hope sink.

"I guess I have no choice but to use 'that'..."

I take a small machine from one of the pockets in my belt.

It's still a work in progress, but this is better than nothing.

Do I really have to use my piece of hard-work here?

Well... I guess it beats dying.

In a swift movement I press a button and make it stick to one of my attackers' heads.

I'm sorry...

The creature starts to scream.

A scream sounding more and more like that of a human it once was.

I'm sorry...

The others get alerted by the sound and start attacking their once fellow creature.

I hate to do this, but a better decoy doesn't exist.

Even if the creature had become fully human again, it would have died in an instant.

I haven't found anything against that yet.

Quickly and quietly I rush to Quiller.

I give him a glare, saying: 'Fine... I will do it your way asshole!' and get myself through the small door in the ceiling.

He seems to be slightly frightened by my cursing.

It's a good thing I've gotten used to doing parkour.

Jumping from one wall to the other and climbing up is nothing.

I breathe a sigh of relief as I notice that it doesn't end in a small space to crawl through.

I might have gone right back out if that was the case.

It's open.

I close the small door behind me, I really don't want those creatures getting up here and then I turn my flashlight on to look around.

The room is mostly empty, except for the layer of dust and an old couch.

The clock is the window, but it has gotten so dirty thanks to the dust, seeing through it is nearly impossible.

I scan through the room with the light in my hand, I really hope there is nothing up here.

There is a dusty, old couch in the middle and the only source of light is coming from the dirty clock, that's also somewhat of a window.

Luckily there is no one here.

"Hey, are you okay?" Quiller asks, looking rather worried: "You didn't get bit, right?"

I shake my head, I better not answer him right now.

Those creatures one floor below us, worry me.

I carefully walk over to the couch.

Maybe now is the best time to start reading that book.

I take the old object out of my bag and open it.

The puddle

A short horror story I just finished writing:)

Word count: 469

While waiting outside, I spot something strange.

A puddle lighted by a street lantern moving in a rather strange manner.

It doesn’t take long for me to notice that it’s probably just the wind playing with it, just as the wind is playing with my hair.

Blowing it in and out of my face continuously, almost like a small child that just got its hands on a new toy. Tirelessly as if to signal that it will never bore.

Again my gaze wanders back to the puddle.

It ripples in a strange manner, almost as if something alive is in it.

But I know for certain that it can’t be anything, since it should be as shallow as any other small puddle on the neatly tiled streets.

Perhaps an inch deep at most, but most likely even more shallow.

The water starts to move around quicker and more wild, making me almost believe there to be a fish flopping about.

Perhaps it is a bird, who knows.

As I start to feel the slightest bit of guilt, of possibly letting some small animal die, I get up.

I slowly stand up from the cold bench and walk over to it… slowly… very slow.

Now the water seems to almost be dancing, dancing inside the small puddle.

Up and down it goes, now I’m sure the wind doesn’t have the power to do something like that.

As I gaze into the dark puddle, I can’t seem to find the bottom of it.

Is it just too dark outside already for me to spot this?

No, I can see inside the other puddles perfectly fine, the many lines of them neatly in rows.

Before I know it the darkness inside it seems to grow, the puddle has gotten larger and larger..

It can’t be!

I try to take a step back, but it’s as if the puddle itself has taken me within its cold gaze, staring back into my very core.

Nothing I can do about it, I stare back, into the cold wetness of its never-ending insides.

Something deep and dark is within it.

Would I seem possessed to those around me?

Well, I’m sure I’m alone though. It’s too late for someone to see me, for someone to stop this staring contest.

The water has calmed down again, as if seeing me has made it sink deep into thought.

Calmly it ripples again at the rules of the wind.

Then rapidly something comes out of the puddle.

An arm.

A human arm.

Grasping in the air for some unknown reason.

Perhaps for help.

Without thought or perhaps still possessed by the water I take it, trying to take it out of there.

It’s coldness seeps deep into my body as it grabs my arm with full strength.

For a moment nothing else happens, just me staring at the body part clenching me.

With a quick yank it suddenly pulls me closer.

Closer and closer.

Until I too am taken into the darkness of the puddle

The confession

A short horror story I wrote.

TW: 920

Word count: blood, gore, murder, religion

It's quiet today, yes it is most of the time in a church, but not this kind of silence... I might even be able to call it eerie.

It's so quiet it feels like there is someone here with me, just one that is able to hold their breath for a very long time or never had a breath to begin with.

From the corner of my eye I notice a dark red curtain close.

Ah, it must be someone whom is here to confess.

I carefully close the book I was reading and whilst holding it close I walk over to the one who seeks the guidance and forgiveness of God.

I enter the small room on the opposite side and close the curtain behind me.

As I sense the person in the other room make a cross, he speaks in a shaking voice: "In the n-name of the F-father, the Son a-and the Holy Spirit..."

I recognize the man's voice, it's Benjamin, the kind farmer from the edge of town.

He comes here often and is very devoted to God.

Just what could it be that scared the poor lad this much?

Ben continues his prayer: "May last confession has been..." He takes a break, seemingly deep in thought.

"I'm sorry, I... I don't know. I have been here every Sunday though, I truly didn't have anything to confess at that time."

"That is alright, I know. Please tell me what happened Ben."

"So..." He swallows loudly "It all started a couple of days ago."

"Recently my crops have been dying, much, much faster than normal. All of them are now nothing more but dust. At first I thought it was divine punishment for something, but after asking even my youngest it seemed not to be the case. There was something killing them. It didn't take long for it to go over onto my life stock, all dead. My sheep, my cows, even the little donkey.

All had been more than healthy before then.

No blood, just dead.

Of course I went to ask around and seemingly I wasn't the only one with this horrible occurrence. My neighbors Peter and Hans had the same problem.

Something has been eating away at the land. It was something evil, father.

The others and me, decided to investigate and found out that something strange happens at night.

There was something wandering our fields when even the moon and stars hid behind clouds out of fear.

We all saw them.

It looked human, a human with long dark hair.

Each time it even just passed something alive it would quickly perish.

Last night, we decided to make our move.

Armed, we followed it.

It led us into the dark forest, everything decaying in its path.

When it finally halted, Peter attacked first.

But he was touched by it by accident and turned to ash.

It was a terrible sight father! I won't ever be able to forget.

So Hans, enraged by the sudden death of our friend, screamed at it, grabbing it by its hair and yanking it back.

He held a knife to its throat ready to slice it open, and yet... he too lost his life right there.

The monster turned to me and asked: "Are you going to kill me too, mister?"

I could finally see its eyes, its horrid eyes.

I think they might have glowed, but I'm not too sure.

When the moon finally showed itself, it had turned just as blood red as the monster's eyes.

It had to have been the devil's work.

It has to!"

"What did you do?" I ask, trying to get him to continue his story, he came here to confess after all.

A strange giggle escaped the man's lips, one I have only heard once before from a madman.

"Ben! What did you do?!"

He remains silent for a bit.

Is he even still there?

"Father... I killed a child. I killed the devil's child" Ben answers with insanity clearly audible in his voice.

"Ben... you killed a child?"

Another strange giggle: "Father... I did it to save everyone. I stabbed it and stabbed it and stabbed it and stabbed it... In the end the monster even smiled at me as I cut out its facial features, to make it look more like the monster it was."

A chill runs down my spine, what in the Lord's name is going on?

Probably sensing my silence, Ben starts to weep: "My Lord... Father... I killed a child... I'm going to hell... aren't I?"

Unsure what to answer, I open my bible looking for a way to guide the man.

Suddenly I start to hear scratching on the other side, softly at first, but before I know it, it gets louder and louder.

'Is he nervous?' Is my first thought, but quickly the scratching doesn't sound human anymore.

I can't help it: "What's wrong?" I ask desperately, trying to hide my own panic.

"Father, please help me. God, please forgive me!" The man starts begging in great distress.

If this goes on, he might hurt himself, I have to get him out!

"Ben! Please, let's take a breath of fresh air! Please calm down, I'm sure He will forgive you!"

I jump out of the confessional, rush to his side and open his curtains.

But instead of being greeted by the panicked man's face, I am to an empty seat.

Empty.

No one.

Have I been talking to myself all this time?

No... The scratches are there.

The scratches in the woodwork are deep and look more to be made by some kind of animal, than a human being.

It almost looks like there is dust inside them.

With an audible gasp I take a step back, gazing into the empty room.

Then I notice something else amiss.

The light entering the church...

It has turned blood red.

What's for dinner?

A short horror story I wrote:)

Word count: 1025

TW: Gore

That is the question I've been wondering about lately.

Mom and dad are amazing people, so it's really not that I don't trust them.

The truth is, sorry I know I'm not allowed to do so, I've been listening a lot to Carl recently.

I know, I know, he always says such weird things.

But I mean, he is still my brother.

Our family is so big, but he's always on his own, so I decided to be his friend.

He has always seemed quite lonely, never saying a lot, if not remaining silent for multiple days at a time.

Sometimes it looks like everyone has decided he is crazy, but I have not.

Even in silence we are able to play together.

Yesterday as we played with our toys he spoke an entire sentence.

It was a question.

"Do you know what's for dinner?"

At first I looked up in shock at the fact he spoke at all, but I quickly regained my composure: "I don't know." I answered.

"You should see."

I tried asking him more about it, but he stopped answering completely.

No word, not even a peep came out of him for the rest of the day.

After a while he got tired of playing and started reading a book.

I left him to it and started looking for mom.

It didn't take long for me to find her.

"Mom, can I ask you something?"

"Of course you can, dear."

"What are we having for dinner tonight?"

It takes a second for her to answer.

Did I accidentally scare her?

I thought her face looked like that, even if it was just for a second.

"Chicken, mashed potatoes and some veggies. Did you not see it on the board?"

Oh right! I can be so stupid sometimes!

"Sorry mom, I forgot to check..." I hit myself in the face: "Can I help you with cooking?"

She smiles at me in a rather sad way: "I'm sorry dear, not today. Maybe some other time."

"Okay!"

I give her a hug and walk off to do something else.

As the time to finally eat dinner the sound of the bell can be heard throughout the whole house.

Like always, we eat by candle-light and we're eating everything like it says on the board.

Nothing weird, nothing strange.

Was Carl just messing with me?

The next day I spent my time with Carl again.

"Hey Carl" : I ask my brother: "What did you mean yesterday about the food?"

He stops moving the arm his toy is in and then looks up to face me.

"So you haven't seen it?"

"I don't know what I'm supposed to see."

"You should look again."

And off I am again, as I walk towards the board dad notices me.

"Hello dear, what are you doing here?" he asks with a kind smile.

"Well dad, I was just wondering what we were going to have for dinner today."

He laughs just as kind as he smiles: "Well aren't you curious! We will be eating soup and bread today."

I nod: "Thank you, that sounds delicious!"

And then I add: "Is there anything I can help you with dad?"

He pats me on my head: "Don't worry dear, you should just go and play with the others."

And just like he told me to, I go to my other siblings.

Unfortunately they don't seem willing to spend time with me, they even make mean jokes about me.

All because I'm supposedly stupid for spending time with Carl.

They say he's a bad child and that me spending time with him makes me just as bad.

Crying I go back to my room.

After a little while I suddenly hear a quiet knock on my door.

I don't open the door, I want to be left alone.

The others might even make more fun of me if they see that I'm crying.

I hate it.

But my thoughts have no control over whoever is behind the door and it slowly opens.

It's Carl.

Quickly I wipe away my tears, but it seems that he has already seen it.

Without speaking a word he walks into my room and gives me a hug.

Comforting me in silence.

After I've calmed down a bit more, he whispers something: "You should see what we have for dinner."

Again?!

The question makes me a bit angry.

"I already know! It's soup with bread."

I push him away.

Defeated, he looks me in the eye and then shakes his head.

"You should see again."

"I don't understand, Carl! Please just help me understand!"

The tears are back again and this time not only from my eyes.

Carl is crying.

I've never seen him do so before.

"Dinner... is not..." He mumbles, stumbling over the words or perhaps not finding the right ones.

He strangely makes no attempt to wipe away his tears, mumbling the same words over and over again.

Just what could he mean with that?

Isn't this going too far for a joke?

This time it's my turn to give Carl a hug, but as I get closer, he starts to shake.

Is he scared of something?

Then just before I can wrap my arms around his body he runs away, leaving a trail of tears behind.

Just why is he crying?

I try to go after him, but can't find him anywhere.

He doesn't even seem to be in his room.

As I look under his bed to see if he might be hiding there, I notice a small object with a note attached to it.

I take it to have a closer look.

On the note he has written my name.

It's a flashlight.

I click the on/off button a couple of times, but it seems to be broken.

Still I decide to take it with me.

At dinner, we all gather at the candle-lit table again.

I look over to Carl's seat, but it's empty.

I ask the others, but they only snicker and mom hushes to make us go quiet again.

The rule is 'No talking while eating', so I too stop asking.

Today I don't feel particularly hungry and get bored quickly.

The candle light makes it so it only shows the food we're eating, I can't see any of the others.

It's almost as if I'm eating alone or I might not even be there either.

As I fiddle a bit with my fork I suddenly remember that I have the flashlight.

Without much thought I take it out and press the 'on' button.

This time however it did turn on.

It showed...

The table...

In a terrible condition...

The food...

It looks horrible...

My family...

Doesn't look like my family...

My colleague

A short horror story I wrote a while ago:)

Word count: 929

It's loud and crowded in the office today.

I don't know why, but honestly I don't really care and just continue with my work.

Suddenly someone taps me on my shoulder and I look up.

It's Jimmy, one of my colleagues.

I quickly look away again, ignoring him and continuing my work.

"Hey, I want to talk to you about something."

"Sure."

He sighs, seemingly annoyed about my answer: "It's something I would rather discuss in private."

I look around to see the others working hard or talking loudly: "It doesn't matter, no one will hear you anyway. Everyone is too busy with their own things, they couldn't care less."

He turns his head away from me, making me unable to see how he is feeling.

"You're really not trying to hide it, huh?"

"Hiding?"

He scoffs: "That you aren't you."

Honestly his answer takes me by surprise, but I don't want to show him.

"What gave you that idea?" I ask him.

"I knew the original you, that's just a completely different person. Maybe even a different being..."

Annoyed, I look at him: "Seriously? How did I change then?"

"You used to always be very friendly, I knew you really well. We knew each other from high school, but suddenly you're gone for a month and come back like this."

Part of me gets what he is talking about, but the other part of me is just angry that he even came to ask me about this matter.

"You sound like you want something from me. What is it?"

"I want my friend back."

I shake my head and whisper: "That's impossible."

Jimmy looks at me with a face as if he is about to start crying: "If you don't tell me the truth... I will tell everyone." He suddenly says rather certain of himself: "I even have evidence."

I can't bear to look at him and just mumble back to him: "Fine, after work... I will show you."

After work is finally finished I get my stuff and take my coat to leave.

I'm stopped by Jimmy: "We're going together, remember?"

"Don't worry, I didn't forget." I grumble without looking up at him.

We walk out of the building, I don't look up, but can see snow falling slowly. There isn't much yet, so the buses should still drive normally.

"Where are we going?" Jimmy asks curiously and even a little anxious.

"To the place where you will get your answer."

It might be mean, but I really have to take him there.

We walk to a nearby bus stop, deserted by all of the living.

Might as well continue our conversation: "So, by 'other being' what do you think I am?" I ask.

"I saw you walk through a wall, maybe you are a ghost?"

"A ghost?" I laugh joylessly: "Are you sure?"

"No, not at all." He shakes his head: "You might even be an alien at this point, you look just like my friend after all."

"A doppelganger, or a clone then?"

"Maybe... you might even be an evil fairy at this point."

"Evil fairy? That's too kind of a thing to say for you, you're not going with zombie? Or even vampire?"

"If you were a zombie it would have been obvious and I have never heard of a vampire being able to look like someone else."

"Vampires can shapeshift into bats, why not other humans?"

He takes a step back: "So you're a vampire?"

"No, of course not."

The bus arrives and I shake off the snowflakes that have landed on me, I really stood that still.

The door opens and we get inside the warm vehicle.

Even the bus seems to be empty, it's only us here. So I decide that it's safe enough to talk again.

The snow outside has started falling quicker now, was the weather back then like this as well? I don't remember.

"So..." Jimmy asks: "What are you then? And what happened to the real you?"

"You will know when we are there." I answer cryptically.

Though I don't seem to be able to stop him from asking questions.

"Are you two friends?"

I shrug.

"Are you identical twins or something? If so, why have I never met you? Maybe a robot?"

I look outside, ignoring his stupid question.

It doesn't take long for the bus to arrive at the place we need to be.

I press the button.

"Where are we going, this is in the middle of nowhere?"

Ignoring him again I get out, immediately we are greeted by the cold.

It has gotten dark already, so I turn on the flashlight on my phone. There are no street lights here after all.

"It's just a little further." I tell my impatient colleague.

We walk further through the dark and the cold snow.

"It's here..." I whisper, barely being able to talk thanks to the cold and low energy.

Jimmy looks around: "Here? There is nothing here. Are you just joking around? Do you think this is funny? Or could this be a plan for you to get rid of me?" I can hear anger in his voice.

"Please stop..." I whisper, but this time he is the one ignoring me, ranting on.

"You're such a jerk!" The harsh words left my lips before I knew it.

He turns to look at me and his expression turns into one of shock or maybe even worry. It takes me a second to realize why: drops on the ground have started to appear. Melting away the snow. It's not the rain, it's the tears falling down from my face.

Why doesn't he get it? Why won't he understand?

It hurts so much.

Even though my body had gone ice-cold, I can still feel the heat from the wreckage of that day.

Swiftly with a wild gesture of my arms I point to the road.

"This is where you left me... and where I changed."

Brother

This is the first short horror story I'm posting here on tumblr, I hope you like it and if you do. Please check out my Wattpad:

https://www.wattpad.com/user/Ardenla

TW: Gore, psychological horror

My brother has always been very kind. Not just to me, but also everyone and everything around us. We live together with our uncle in a nice house with a big garden. Honestly, the house might be a bit to the bigger side. I'm pretty sure we could fit another small family here, but I'm happy with just the three of us. My uncle is a pretty good cook too! And my brother and I do quite good at school and both have some friends.

Even so, something is wrong.

It has to do with my brother.

He is special. Unfortunately not always in a good way.

The first time it happened was during the accident that robbed us of our parents.

The car got crashed horribly, after it had been upside down a couple of times. It all happened somewhere in the middle of nowhere. I don't know exactly what happened, but at some point in time I had flow out of the car. I don't really remember, but I was surrounded by white. Someone was holding me and protecting me.

This was the first time that I saw my brother's angel.

They look alike. Both have the same face and body, but their eyes, hair and clothes are very different. The angel mostly looks calm unlike my brother, who shows a lot of his emotions. I'm not saying that showing emotions is bad. I honestly prefer my brother's emotional side, to the angel's cold side.

When the ambulance arrived, it took them a while before they were able to save my brother from the wreckage, he had been unconscious and didn't remember anything about the accident. Our parents unfortunately didn't make it. I don't remember crying so much as I did back then, it all still feels like a haze. That maybe in a few minutes the doorbell will ring and that I can see their faces again, that it was all just a horrible nightmare.

When the paramedics asked me about what had happened, I told them that my brother saved me. Or at least someone who looked like him. They looked at me with pity in their eyes, they carefully told me that it wasn't possible, but I insisted until they shrugged and gave up.

Are you familiar with the story that everyone has an angel and a demon on their shoulders? The ones you sometimes see in old cartoons or read about in old books? My mother always loved to tell me those stories. When they were still alive we would go to church quite often, but uncle thinks it's useless to go. Now we only go with our grandmother from time to time and with Christmas of course. Our mother believed in angels, I hope she is in heaven now.

I'm telling you this, because my brother doesn't only have an angel... He has a demon too. One that almost looks exactly like him, but like the angel is just slightly different. The demon is scary and seems to always be angry and full of hate. He hasn't hurt me, but he hasn't been nice either.

They're both just as tall as my brother and when they appear they are always standing close to him.

I wanted to tell our uncle, but my brother didn't want me to tell him. So I promised to keep it a secret. Pretty cool secret, huh? That is what I thought at first too, but I was wrong to think that.

The first time that I saw the demon, was when an older man tried to kidnap me. It happened close to the empty playground that we actually aren't allowed to go to. The man grabbed me by my wrist, it hurt, so I screamed for my brother who fortunately was just inside the hut we had built before.

My brother ran towards me, also screaming. Then it happened. His demon appeared, right before the man could take me inside a building. My brother's demon grabbed the man's arm. He squeezed it. He kept squeezing and didn't let go. The old man started screaming, burns started to form everywhere on his body and he let me go.

I ran to my brother, who then took me back home as quickly as possible. We never played anywhere near there again. We didn't tell uncle either. We just couldn't. My brother was scared, and because he didn't know yet, I told him about his angel, who saved me. This was when we made the promise to keep it a secret.

From this experience I learned that my brother has none or almost no control over his angel and demon. They usually just do some of the things that he was planning for even a second and come out when they 'feel' needed. Unfortunately this has cost the life of the neighbor's dog, the demon killed it.

Another thing that seems to be bad about my brother being able to somehow summon these two, is that it takes a lot of energy out of him. He gets easily tired and when they are both out, my brother will most likely pass out soon after.

Even though this has made my brother's life significantly difficult, he is always there for me and always ready to protect me. His kindness and strength makes me feel useless sometimes. So I always try to take extra good care of him too. I talk to him when I think he needs it or bake him cookies.

Last week something bad happened, something really, really bad. A friend of our uncle came by, or at least he claimed he was and us being the stupid kids we were back then let him in. Our uncle is a cop and this guy claiming to be his friend was actually a criminal, that wanted to emotionally destroy him. After my uncle arrested his friends. He wanted to kill us. That was supposed to be our last day. The day we might have joined our parents. But of course, the man had it wrong all along. He didn't know anything, he didn't know my brother and what would happen if he would hurt me.

One of the first things the man did when he closed the door, was stab me with a knife. It all happened too quickly, even though I screamed my lungs out, I didn't feel anything. I couldn't even hear my own screaming. My brother rushed to my aid. Both his angel and demon appeared.

His angel came to me, took the knife out and healed me. The demon on the other hand, went rampant. He ripped the scared intruder into a thousand pieces and when he was done he burned his screaming face beyond recognition. It was terrifying, I have never seen something as brutal as that and hopefully never again. I have never seen so much blood, it was everywhere. My brother who had tried to stop his demon, had collapsed and lied passed out on the floor. There was blood on the windows, guts even on the ceiling and some wall's had just turned completely black. For a few minutes I didn't even know where we were. When slowly some of the blood dripped down from the window, I could see the room. A couple of small beams of red light shone into the room.

Hell.

The only thing I could call that room.

Did a human really die in here? There is almost nothing left.

When my uncle came back, he of course, was very shocked to see his traumatized cousins covered in blood, in his ruined house, with bits-and-pieces everywhere from some unidentifiable person. The room, dark from blood. So much blood...

The police were quickly alerted and we were questioned, when my brother was back on his feet again of course. I was surprised when my brother told them the truth, he was crying and said he was afraid of what he might do to the people he cares about when the demon goes out of control again. Our uncle's colleagues had a difficult time keeping in their laughs at first, but soon after one snickered, the demon came out again. Attacking them. They were shocked and some of them froze up. Just in time my brother jumped in front, which caused him to get some really nasty burns.

My uncle didn't know what to say or do. He just stood there and stared with a horrified expression.

I ran to my brother first, I saw his wounds and tried to calm him down. While the officers looked terrified, I begged them to please not take him away. This fell on deaf man's ears unfortunately.

Another kind of police group was sent soon after what happened. A group that deals with the more 'special' kind of incidents. They weren't as nice as our uncle's friends. They took my brother away, the entire time he didn't want to look us in the face. Even when our uncle found his composure and tried to comfort him. He was taken, cuffed in a special van. I watched helplessly as they drove off.

I know it has only been a week, but I've not had a good night sleep yet, nightmares plague me day and night. I am getting counseling so it should get less with time.

My uncle and I are staying somewhere else, because everything still needs to be further inspected and of course deep cleaned. I honestly don't want to return there, I don't believe that, that place can ever be called 'home' again. Just thinking about it gives me chills and makes me want to puke.

Since nobody I know well enough died, I still have to go to school. My uncle did call me in sick for the first few days, but since the day before yesterday I go to school again. I don't like it, but we don't have a choice, the school is very strict. Uncle also said that it might be good for me, that it might take my mind off those terrible things that happened just a week ago.

My first day of school went as normal as if nothing ever happened, I lunched with friends who still believe I just got a cold and did the work that was given to me by my teachers. I'm not ready to tell them what happened just yet, how would I even start?

My uncle has brought me to school every day. The car has never felt this empty as I looked at the place my brother would sit. We don't talk much anymore and when I asked him about my brother, he didn't answer and just shook his head. He didn't want to believe what happened yet. I know it was hard on him too, no matter how much he tried to hide it.

I wish I could see my brother again, but I haven't even gotten any message from him or the officers who took him. I don't know if he's even alive. It makes me really worried.

Something strange did happen to me yesterday, I could feel someone watching me the entire day I was at school. I looked around everywhere, but there was no one.

Today was different though, well I could still feel someone watching me and following me around. But this time, when I looked carefully enough, I could see him.

It's my brother's demon.

Watching me without a break. Every time he notices me looking he starts smiling with this creepy, distorted smile.

It's still following me.