Dreaming of ShortS/Tags

Rusty Laughter

Short Story: 

Dark rusty laughter erupted from across the hallway, its vocals thick with the gurgling noises of someone who had just drowned in blood. Loud hoarse voices spoke angry words rough with wisdom while unspoken whispers dusty with sin fell off their lips in showers of giggles. Raw crackling chuckles bubble up from behind the door and as my body moves towards it, more unpleasant statements ripple through my body with high pitched tones.

My hands pushed the door open with a screeching creek and stepping in, my eyes swell with dread as my eyes lock on finding my mother lying on the cold, blood-stained ground. The shadows turned their vulgarly cloak covered faces to me, as two red fireflies shone brightly from under their black hood. Their white jagged teeth fell like daggers from somewhere under their glowing eyes. While skeletal hands clumsily played with an ignited light bulb, allowing each shadow to illuminate its unrequested presence. With snickering cries and deafening screams, they dismissively turned their gleeful mirth away from me and back onto my bleeding mother, only taking a mere second before disappearing with shrieking chortles and gruffy obscene roars.

They did grievingly forget something, the golden dagger they killed my now pale mother with. It was politely positioned on the petit black coffee table, its curved blade slightly balancing on the sharp edge of the shaped glass layer. The intensity of the empty scene held me in place, there was too much bloodshed coldly splattered across the white floor. My brain couldn't function under such petrifying gravity. The clock's cheeky smile wouldn't stop ticking with evilly sinister gasps and giggles. It's long tongue simply kept swaying from side to side, mesmerizing anyone who glanced in its gloomily corned direction. The clock shook, hypnotising me as its symmetrical eyes spiraled teleporting me back to my mushed dark subconscious.