My Messed up Dreams

Story Three: Demon Duo Curse

 Author/Weirdo who had dream note: Okay, so this may be a bit more nightmare evoking, but I leave it at a cliff hanger, cause well...I'm mean that way I guess. I was thinking about continuing it, because I most probably could, but I see no REAL reason too. Enjoy.

The sun beamed down through the autumn colour curtains, making the room fill with an earthly feel.

Music quietly boomed through the room. A pale girl danced mindlessly around the room. Her grey baggy, long sleeved shirt bouncing along to the beat.

Another sound pierced the harmonised surroundings. And the figure came to a standstill. Shuffling through the litter scattered on the carpeted floor.

She picked up the phone, and silenced the music. Answering with a sluggish “Hello?”

“My god, she speaks!”

“What?”

“Never mind, just get your butt here!”

“WHAT?!”

“You’re meant to be helping out for the festival this afternoon…”

“…SHIT!” she finally hissed, rummaging around the room to find pants.

“Hurry up or you’ll be late!” the person hung up, leaving a beep to ring through the phone.

Pulling on pants, and stuffing her hand bag with the right equipment, she clambered through the door. Sprinting absurdly down the street.

After ten minutes of a desperate sprint, she gave up. She was just going to have to be late.

“Better late than never.” she thought, tucking in some escaping hairs behind my ears. “What a waste of a Sunday. Going to work for some stupid festival, instead of enjoying myself. Even if it’s just simply dancing around my room.”

It was getting later, and she was slowly tyring. Her feet dragged with every step. Though she thought must have been dragging them very roughly, because she could hear each of her steps echo.

Paranoia inched her head around. Then seeing nothing but the rustling of leaves she shrugged and continued.

The echo repeated itself. More fear penetrated her, making her stop. The footsteps continued. She ran my eyes along the path again. Nothing. But the echoing steps kept coming.

A shiver ran up and down her spine, indicating something was wrong here, and there was.

She had to be going crazy she repeated in her mind trembling, nothing was here.  

She suddenly thundered down the street, fear had gotten the better of her. She then spotted a toilet block. A place to calm down, a place to wake herself up.

…

The room was cold. Made completely of cement and tiles. Mould firmly grasping on the slippery surfaces.

She splashed water onto her face, wanting to washaway her insanity. She let out a long sigh. Her breath fogged up in front of her.

It had gotten colder; her lips began to turn blue. She turned the tap back on. Some water began to trickle out, that only seconds later began to freeze to a stop.

She swung her bag back over her shoulder, preparing to dash for the exit. But the footsteps came.

She held her breath, creeping behind the toilet door. And clenching her eyes as she accidently nudged it, making it creak.

The steps belong to a man, wearing dark, sinister clothes, smirking as he made his way in.

 She pressed her back onto the iced tiled wall. Hugging herself against the growing cold.

The dark man strolled over the slippery tiles; he lifted a hand pointing at a window, which then ruptured into a million pieces.

All the glass fell to the ground, the girl trembled, tears welling in her firmly closed eyes.

He pointed to another window, which did the same, shattering around the room. He pointed to another and another, until he was at the door with the only trifling sign of warmth. Her warmth.

He moved silently closer, slipping his arm around the door until she was in his grasp.

She screeched, as she was hauled out and onto her. Staring up and the shadowy character.

He had her pinned to the ground; ice began to creep up her. Her vision blurred. A single tear rippled down her warmth less cheek. As the darkening cold, pulled her from consciousness.