Socks

8 3 16
                                    

Story by AppDude27 aka ItalianGamerJoe

***

I hear the strange, silent whispers again. Hushed, murmuring sounds. I open my eyes and turn over to my nightstand, flipping on the lamp light switch.

My apartment bedroom becomes illuminated by my lamp's cozy shade. The whispers have dissipated completely.

I turn on my back and sigh. Another night of sleeping with the lamp on. I don't know when exactly these whispers started, but they won't go away.

At first I thought it was a prank, some teenagers or kids in neighboring apartments trying to whisper through the vents. Trying to pull a fast one.

According to my landlord, both of the apartments next to me are empty. Above me is a single woman, and below me is a guy around my age. I ruled out pets because these whispers sound human.

I've checked every room in my one bedroom, one bathroom apartment, every nook and cranny. Nothing. The whispers only happen at night when the lights are off in my bedroom.

I get up from my bed and look at the closet. I've tried a lot of things but I've been too afraid to actually go into my closet in the dark. I just want a peaceful night's sleep at this point though, and I'm willing to do anything.

I flick my light switch off. There's silence. Then I hear it again. The whispers. The hushed whispered sounds. It's coming from my closet and I'm sure of it this time.

Slowly, I creep my way up the closet. The whispers are getting louder. I wonder if they think I'm in bed. When I approach the door handle, I grip it with one hand, grabbing my camera phone flash in the other.

I take a deep breath. Like ripping off bandaid, I swing the door open.

 Like ripping off bandaid, I swing the door open

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In front of me are socks everywhere. The socks have eyes and mouths. They are all chatting amongst themselves. Some of the socks are older while others look newer and more stylish. The socks turn to look at me as if completely taken off guard by the photo flash. The whispering completely stops. They are all staring at me and I'm staring at them.

What do I do? What are they going to do?

As if acting on impulse, I swing the door shut, only to feel the door get stuck on one of the socks. I open the door to kick the sock in, but more start slithering their way to the frame, preventing me from closing the door.

I try to shut the door again, squeezing the closet door as shut as I possibly can. I'm working up a sweat, and feeling my own socks slide against the wood floor of my bedroom. I can't take it. The closet door bursts open. I lose my balance and fall backwards on to the floor.

Quickly I attempt to get up, but it's too late. My cotton, wool, nylon, spandex, and polyester captors start to hold my arms and legs down. I try to use the most of my strength to lift my arms up, but to no avail. I'm about to start to scream for help, but one of my knee high gym socks wraps around my mouth, gagging me.

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