The Calm Before The Storm

Inspired by The Women in Black, this is a short horror extract I wrote in class.

Behind dense clouds of grey hid the coy moon as bursts of lightning illuminated the gloaming. In a way, the sound comforted me, permitting me to focus on something genuine, natural, ordinary; a sense of reality in my time of madness. I cannot fathom for how long I cravenly sat there. Finally, knowing I could not rest against these frail floorboards any longer, I heaved myself up. My frame ached for in my fear I had not acknowledged the cumbrous stance my body lay in. For an instant I falter. Nevertheless the feeling of unease at another being’s potential presence had not faded and my desperation for understanding took over. With my legs attempting to defy my every step, I apprehensively tread towards the nursery. Unaccompanied footsteps along with the intensity of my gasps disturb the silence of this vacant fort while I ponder the likeliness of such an intruder, who by now surely would’ve shown some sign of his existence. Abrupt thudding of a rocking chair, a squeak of a door or the clacking of mysterious footsteps as are common in stories like mine. I receive no such indication.

Giving a slight push to the doorknob on which I pendulously place my hand at the end of the hallway, my heart continues to beat thick against my ribcage. It takes me a moment to drive my attention away from the vile, ghastly odour radiating from the chamber. Consumed in darkness, my fingers roam the walls in search of a switch that will stop my mind from dwelling on what the gloom might hold. Then it began. The usually sweet, innocent melody of a lullaby, the ghostlike echo of a child’s laughter and the rocking of a wooden horse started to play inside the room. Curling my bony, trembling flesh, moist with sweat, to grip the bedframe as to not faint with the terror that was ripping through me, I succeed at showering the room in light by means of a luminescent bulb swinging from the ceiling. Immediately the sounds seized only to be replaced by something worse. Far worse.

Eerie and inaudible, a shadow strides across the room. But despite the paralysing fear I felt, there was no shriek threatening to break through the wall of silence in the room, as my terror had rid me of the ability to speak. I release the curtain that adorned the bedstead, which I had subconsciously seized in my fist, forcing myself to continue to behold the figure mute. So elegantly the figure glided, like the most vigilant of creatures moving towards their unwary prey. And as the figure approached the hearth, where light reached more intensely, I saw that the creature appeared to be human. Before preceding to turn towards the mirror, the monster remained stationary at the centre of the room for some time, in which I tediously tried to escape from my impending demise, only to find the entrance locked.  My dull eyes met its sanguineous ones which stood out so piercing against her pallid complexion and the black drapes she wore. Then it screamed. Crack! At her agonizing hoarse cry the marred mirror had begun to shatter, distorting my reflection. Horrifyingly her image lingered, fixed and unaltered, even as she spun and began closing in on me, closer and closer, until her face was mere inches from mine. But then came a swift calm…

Outside the storm had cleared and the horizon was now tainted orange as a fiery orb broke through the skyline. Regarding me once more, this time with pleading alack eyes, the women opened her chapped lips revealing her jagged, rotting teeth which moved in sync with her mutterings. Yet the voice was not hers; it was as if a child spoke through her:

“Please help me.”