Just a random short story I just wrote. It's not good. At all. Just warning you. x]
Famous Last Words - My Chemical Romance. HELL YEAAAAH!
It was back. My heart began to race as I pulled the duvet closer to my body, as if the soft quilt could protect me from the ominous noise which was pounding inside my head. I felt a cold trickle of sweat slide down the back of my neck.
How could it be, it had returned again after all my efforts to keep it at bay? My heart sank. I wasn't mad, I couldn't be mad! A louder, more prominent thump sounded from the dark caverns of my mind, and short, sharp taps followed after, rapping against my skull repeatedly. They didn't stop, they never stopped.
My heart thumped in time with the tap, tap, tapping, until I could barely breathe! Louder, faster, louder, faster, louder! The darkness I had tried to fend off hung in my cramped, window-less room and wrapped around me. Like eels, they slipped over my body, tangling in my hair, covering my eyes and worming its way into my mouth. The salty taste of darkness tickled my tongue and the tapping boomed louder!
I tried to scream, but my voice no longer worked, I struggled and tried to fight back against its twisted, gnarled hands as they encircled my neck...
Beneath the beating drum which pounded in my head, I could hear the rain pattering dismally onto my window pane and the roar of the wind... and breathing - heavy, inhuman breathing.
“I know,” A wailing voice whispered in my ear.
The voice collided painfully with the tapping inside my skull, causing me to shriek in agony. Pain! Such a terrible pain it was, I could not even put it into words!
“I know,” It repeated.
Puzzled, I was – what did this voice know? Why, it couldn’t know my secret, no one could! I had made sure of that.
“What do you know?” I questioned, and I felt the familiar sensation of those slimy finger-tips pressing into my neck. But only ever so slightly did they press, not nearly enough pressure to suffocate me, but still - I was frightened. Terrified!
“I know.”
A faded image appeared in front of my eyes, but too blurry to make out.
“Do you see me? Do you see this poor child you murdered?” It screamed, in a shockingly childish voice.
And then there ‘it’ was, clear as day. She walked towards me slowly, ever so slowly, until I could barely take the tension. Her long, brown locks swayed as she shuffled, her white nightgown skimmed the wooden floor. Only a child, she was – yet her eyes gave away her internal age, they were dull and lifeless.
“Daddy,” She smiled with no emotion, her eyes still remained dead.
“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,” I pleaded, dropping down to my knees. Pathetically, I tugged at the fabric of her gown, “Please don’t kill me, sweetheart, please!”
“Oh father, this will be fun,” She whispered, and suddenly, she pulled a knife from behind her back.
Blood splattered onto the ground, and I felt a sharp pain in my heart. And then nothing, I felt nothing but still the drumming played in my head. It wrapped around my shattered soul, squeezing out any spare life it maintained. That emptiness, that beating drum, the sound had just begun...
