Horrific Short Stories

Those Fire Red Eyes - 2

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As I run jagged fingers dig into my skin.  I swat uselessly at the fingers.  The darkness around me takes its toll as it spins in circles like a toilet bowl.  I could no longer see the road.  The only thing left I could see were those red eyes.  I have to escape.  I have to get away from this nightmare.  The voice, deeper and creepier than ever before continues, “Haunting, haunting, hunting, hunt.  You’re so fun to follow about.  There’s no escaping there’s no doubt.  You should really just give in now; I’m desperately looking for fresh chow.”

Eating?  Why would it eat me?  No.  My foot catches something sticking out of the ground and I tumble forward.  My hands go to break my fall but the apparition appears there first.  The mist of its body wraps around me as its other hand hooks onto my throat in some kind of thirst.  My heart follows its hand to my throat as I feel myself being to float.  Our faces draw near, like the ghost is going to kiss me.  Its breath is so clear.  It smells stagnant and stale like a pool of water rotting in a cave.  Instead of touching its lips to mine it crackles, “Are you scared? Are you frightened? I think you need to be enlightened!”

The sprite lets me go and I fall, slamming hard into something solid.  I try to look forward and see some kind of wooden log.  The mist clears and reveals more than a log.  I see a wooden post, wood flooring, and a wooden wall.  The wood quite well implores that I am right at the doorstep of the house, the house I so desperately wanted to avoid.  “Let me help!  There is no exit, isn’t that just hectic?”  The wraith laughs while the wind it creates spins around me forming a black vortex of smoke which once again reduces my vision, “You are here in my domain, really how long can you sustain?”

Blind.  I’m blind again.  I reach both hands up and grab the wooden post.  Shit, I really hate ghosts.  I hate to say this, but I have to get inside, I have to get away from the gloom before this monster tears me apart.  I fumble forward and find a few steps.  I crawl in the dark as slowly and carefully as I can until I reach a wall.  I feel the wall and slowly stand so that I can slide across it to find some kind of warmth emanating from the door.  I move to the heat and reach my hands out for the handle.  Right before my fingers touches the knob I look to the right to see those burning eyes, clearer than ever, staring right at me.  But it’s not the eyes that I can’t believe, it’s the lips.  There’s a smile on those lips.  Those lips which were black, cracked, and nearly completely dry have a smile as wide as a dog seeing the mailman coming closer.

My neck goes stiff at the disturbing scene as my finger touches the warm knob and twists.  There is no resistance as the door slides right open and I pull myself in.  Sight.  Vision, peace.  I can see.  It’s dark and musky inside but at least I can see.  I look to the left and see a small room.  At the back of the room is a window and the thick smog presses against the glass like it’s going to break in at any moment and consume everything.

I check myself by looking down at everything below my neck.  I still have my pink hoodie, and blue jeans.  My hair is still there and, wait… no, I can feel it, the fucking wraith still has its invisible hand on my arm.  This is not ideal.  Now I can clearly feel his boney fingers hooked on me fast.  The damn monster won’t let go!  Shit. 

Outside literally looks like a living hell, if I went back out there I’d probably be forever lost in the darkness and consumed by it.  Forward is my only hope.  The hall is narrow and straight, about six feet in front there is a path to the right with a bright light emitting from it. 

That is most certainly the way to the wrath of the old man and his fire red eyes.  I don’t look around or make a sound.  I even go as far as holding my breath.  There’s creaking, a deep moan, and shuffling in the distance.  He’s moving; the old man is moving.  He’s moving right towards me.  The profuse smell of rot spews out of the room down the hall and right to me.  Freaking out I turn to the only place I have left to run, the room to my left, my new tomb.  As I flee I quickly realize I’m in a bind.  A corner.  I spin around and look back at the doorframe to see the shade has reappeared.  It seems glad I haven’t strayed too far and consumes me in its fumes, “The little ones cower, the little ones scream, why does it seem you have no gleam?”

“Get off me!” I scream as I swing at the ghost.

I only cause it to split into a ring so it can sneer before it appears again, “You have fight, you might be strong, but to me you still belong.”  The ghost opens its mouth and everything crashes as it screams.  Blood cracks from the holes it once had for ears and the once translucent creature creates red cracks on its face.  My world shatters.  Everything cracks like a porcelain doll as if nothing else matters.  I drop to my knees as my entire body goes icy cold.  “Please, please go away,” I cry, “leave me alone for another day.”  I wrap my arms one over the other and tuck them under my chin as if that warmth and comfort would make this entire situation suck less.  Please, please God save me from the sinister plan of the wraith and his old man.

Why is this happening to me?  Why won’t these creatures leave me alone?  Why do I deserve this?  What have I done?  Why do they put me through all this torment?  Why can’t these monsters just remain asleep?

I feel my flesh become feeble with the ongoing scream.  The ghost is actually trying to scare the skin right off my bones.  Fissures sprout all over my skin like a dry lakebed.  I feel my entire world ending right as everything comes to a halt due to some distant clatter.  Everything emanates to a sudden peak as the last floorboard before the corner to this room lets out a low moan.

I look slowly up to see a thick black boot standing there completely mute.  One more step, one more move, and the old man I deplore with his fiery eyes will be towering over my puny body…