Short Horror Stories

Beating Heart

It is not possible, it is not possible for what I am about to tell to be true. These can only be delusions of the fever. If there is even a small amount of respect you have for me, for god's sake, don't take these laments of mine seriously.

I will talk nonsense as much as I can, because ideas of minewill only make sense today and tomorrow my words will be just a mere sermons of a complete madman.

Now listen to this madman's sermon, this jester's attempt at seeking attention.

.............................

When I opened my eyes everything was pitch black. The darkness was surrounding me like a thick suffocating blanket.

My wrists were tied with cables as if to prevent the flow of blood through my veins. I waited for my eyes to get used to the darkness and my mind to come to its senses again.

I drank and tasted the darkness around me; I measured and calculated. The shadows began to shift over my eyes.

First right, then left...

They slipped in front of me in silent steps.

The cloak of darkness rustled four times, and many times it walked with its shoes clicking on the ground.

And the voices grew and grew and grew like an avalanche.

The first footsteps were joined by a second, and a third. A crescendo! Rise, rise and rise!

They were ringing in my ears and surrounding me. Just like the hugs of a caring mother.

Honestly, I loved it because I was going crazy, I was embracing these sounds when the sounds came right in front of me and everything went silent.

A hum and silence.

Again humming and grumbling.

That small voice and silence.

And then the thick one.

AND THE ORCHESTRA!

A nice cheerful song and shh!

I watched it all silently. And with the sound of a click, the light on top of a table about 5 meters away from me was turned on. Black hooded fiends lined up. Yes fiends! You heard right! I swear it's them. I've seen devils!

I tried to count; One, two, three...

One more?

Was I wrong?

They disappear into the darkness, I can't count them.

They decrease when you have decided on their exact number, and they increase when you try to count again.

On the other hand, they continue to sing death songs.

At that moment, my eyes caught sight of the being lying on the table from those surrounding the table. From where I was sitting I could only see the hair on the top of their head. Even though I wanted to see what was happening, I couldn't move an inch further, let alone stand up, for fear of drawing attention to myself.

Gradually their songs became quieter. One last shrill sound and endless silence.

Not a sound of breathing or rustle of fabric.

I don't know how long this silence surrounded us, but at that moment it felt like both an eternity and a few seconds.

The hands slowly rose to shoulder level, palms and masked faces facing each other. A few fingers reached into the cuffs of their hoods and pulled out small scalpels.