Don't Let the Bed Bugs Bite

This is a true story of what I experienced when I was 13 years old. I was not on any kind of drugs or medication. The only witness I have cannot speak (our language) so it's up to you to believe me or not. I don't really care if you do, because only I kno

     I woke up, eyes fluttered open, blurry vision, just like any other morning.. or so I thought. I never sit up when i first wake up, I'd rather close my eyes, imagine what kind of wonder land I had slipped into right before I was rudely awakened by the bright sun beating down through my window. So I layed there, unmoving, waiting to possibly drift back into the most amazing high ever, sleep. I felt a body lying against my legs, 'Just Phil.' I thought to myself as I nuzzled into the softness of my sheets and the broken inocent dreams that had posessed my mind the night before. But wait.. the presense was cold, this was not a warm fuzzy feeling I usually felt from my loveable German Shepherd. Then I heard a furious growl, and a sharp, threatening 'BARK' that did not come from below me, but from the right side of my bed. If Phil wasn't laying on my legs, then what was? I rubbed away the sleep from my eyes and sat straight up in my bed, in shock, all I could do was stare. I was frozen inside myself. I could feel the blood draining from my face. Could I possibly still be sleeping? No, this was real, I could feel it, I could see it, I could smell it, I could almost TASTE it. Staring back at me was some sort of creature, it was extremely bony and about the size of a child. Its skin looked burnt and rotted, like it had been decaying underwater for years. Its eyes were huge, almost the size of tennis balls, buldging and completely blood shot with cold dark pupils burnt into the middle of them like never ending holes. It was crouched down near my legs, like it was ready to attack and feast on my face at any moment. But instead, the creature smiled at me. Teeth rotted, decayed, infected, infested, missing, growing, buldging, I felt like I was staring into the face of all evil. It didn't have much hair, on its head were a few stringy bits of white, but besides that its body was bare with the exception of scorch makes and some decaying parts.

     I felt trapped inside myself. Not only could I not move, but I wouldn't know what I would do if I could move. Phil continued barking and growling at the creature crouched at my legs, soon my two other dogs joined him; they were locked on the other side of my door, jumping and clawing to try to get their way inside. But the only thing I could see or hear was this demon like being, smiling, staring, breathing. Each breath was like a heavy suction of everything surrounding it. It sounded like a hollow growl everytime it inhaled. It felt like he was taking in all the happiness and exchanging it with death and sorrow. He continued to stare at me with its hungry eyes, wanting me, lusting me, but for some reason, it couldn't have me. Before I knew it the demon was clawing at my legs, like it was trying to get inside of me. But he was angry, he wanted to hurt me. He was furious that he wanted me so bad, but he couldn't have me. He never got any closer than my legs. He clawed and tried to strike at me with his long distorted fingers, lusting for mortal flesh. The hungry look in his eyes quickly turned to anger. He glared at me, grinded his teeth, growled, but still somehow kept the sick looking smile on his face. Almost like he was having fun, he was enjoying himself.

     We made eye contact one last time before I fainted. But it was different from any other time I had stared into the black pits of his eyes. This time, I saw death. I saw countless souls, crying, screaming, and weeping in pain. I saw them begging. They were bondaged and cursed, trapped and hopeless. They wanted nothing more than to cease to exist. I witnessed them living their own personal hells. And I think that is what was too much for my mind to handle. It didn't exactly feel like fainting, but like my mind had shut off for just a few seconds. When I finally came to, the demon was gone, but the cold dark feeling still remained. My dog had settled down on the floor, staring at me, expecting something to happen. The foul smell the demon brought with it still lingered in my nostrils. I was practically dripping with sweat and my whole body was shaking.

     Once I was calm enough to actually get myself out of bed, I looked down at my legs. He had left marks and bruises running up and down the front side of them. That was the only evidence I had that my demon had ever been here. But with time, physical scarring heals, unlike mental scarring. I will never forget the day the death demon gave me a visit. And I don't think Phil will either.

Author's Note

I've finished it. I hope you enjoy.

Reviews

[zz]

That's awesome - yeat freaky! Great job! I can't wait to read more of your writing!

[Vampire Wombat]

Nice job so far. It's well written and it is starting to be creepy. I look forward to reading the rest of it when you finish.