Distorted

A creepy story with a twist on the end.

    

 Shadow draws silhouettes on the wall and the ceiling of my bedroom. It is a spooky game of flames, weird figures that swell and shrink back on a music that I can’t hear. A Dance Macabre of light and dark is drilling in my eyes and stays hanging on my retina. I see gnomes and kobolds, monsters with deformed faces and claws that scratch in the wallpaper without a sound and without leaving any traces.

            However, it isn’t silent. The harsh wind whispers inaudible words that are clinging on the windowpane of my bedroom, forcing their entry into my ears en mingle in my head with the images that I see. A dog barks somewhere far away, I hear the fright in his voice, a warning for what is coming…maybe already is.

            The shingles of the roof are ominously cracking. The truss, the purlins and the ridge seem to lose connection. I fear to be crushed under the sounds of talking wood. Maybe they are the bones of the ghosts who are getting rid of their skeleton of lattice work. I hear them speaking on the garret of the attic. Without understanding them, I know they love this sort of darkness, I feel they enjoy the noises of fear that escape my mouth with short sighs.

            I want to pull something over my head, but I also dare not to immerse myself in the dark. Drowning into a black void, to suffocate under the muffled noises that glide over my eiderdown, it is an impossible choice between two different outcomes. Turned to stone, boned of any movement I lay mouse-still bathing in my own sweat.

            The pounding in my throat, my bone-dry mouth, the rustle in my ears…my blood is chilled and is coagulating when I see the door knob moving. Time is stretching in counted seconds that last forever, the inevitable is bound to happen. I make myself ready to jump away, to run and never look back, to shout, to spit out my fears in one astringent cry, to scratch my eyes out for not having to see.

            And still I do nothing when the door finally opens…and a little voice with a touch of sleep silently says: ‘Daddy, I can’t sleep!’ and chases my dream.

 

 

© Rudi .P. Lejaeghere

11/11/2014  

Reviews

[Aatharva Banaitkar]

story is preety well made and climax i loved the most.

[Rudi J.P. Lejaeghere]

Thank you for your comment about my story. :) Rudi

[Delmar Cooper]

Excellent narrative and description. Suggest you leave the story honorably at narrative and description and quietly ditch the cheaply contrived last paragraph. It is a tail unworthy of the dog.

[Rudi J.P. Lejaeghere]

I see, well I take you remark in serious consideration, for now I will leave it. Thank you for taking time to read my story, Delmar. :)

Rudi