Horror Stories • Volume 1 •

The Man

Derrick laid still under his bed, tears running down his cheeks. His hands were shaking from fear, his clothes were wet from sweat. He was nervous and afraid.

His nervousness wasn't helped when he heard the burly, disheveled man that broke into his home lapped around his room, looking for him. His shaking got worse as he started remembering what happened to his mother and sister.

It was a horrible scene. He remembered how his mother got grabbed by the throat before being pushed up against the wall. He couldn't forget how she struggled to get free, trying to escape his grasp before the man stabbed her with the knife he got from the kitchen. Seeing the light fade from her eyes frightened Derrick, it frightened his sister too. Whilst his sister ran into her room, searching for her phone to call the police, he ran into his room in fear. He didn't even shut his door with how scared he was, he only wanted to find somewhere where he could hide.

He could hear something drop to the ground, followed by the sound of footsteps making their way towards his sister's room.  Derrick heard his sister scream before a slashing sound tore through the air, silencing her. Derrick stood there, frozen in the middle of his room, taking in the harsh truth that his mother and sister were dead. He was jolted back into movement when he heard the footsteps coming towards his room.

Derrick quickly slid under his bed, curling up into a ball and clutching his shirt for comfort. His cries of fear were silent, he knew that he could not alert the man with loud noises. Sweat was running down his forehead, he could feel his shirt getting wet with his tears and sweat. His mind was racing, he wanted to peek his head out to see where the man was, but he was too scared that he would be pulled out from his hiding spot, kicking and screaming before he got silenced too. The thought of that happening only made holding back his cries harder.

The footsteps stopped at the front of his room for the 2nd time. Derrick could see the man's black shoes from under his bed, they were covered in blood, which was soaking into the floor.

"Derrick, come on out. I'm not going to hurt you, I promise."

Derrick questioned how the man knew his name, before he remembered that that was the last thing his mother said before she died. The man's voice was filled with malicious intent, he wanted to hurt Derrick. He knew that he did.

All Derrick could do was cower in fear, he wanted to pretend that this was all a bad dream, that if he pinched himself he would wake up in his bed, his mother greeting him with a warm smile.

The fantasy that Derrick was in was ripped away from him when he heard the man walk around the room and stop at his bed. Derrick held his breath, he felt like screaming in fear, but he knew he had to stay still and be quiet. Panic surged through him once more when he saw a hand reach under the bed, grasping the metal frame, threatening to lift up the bed.

Derrick felt like his life was about to come to an end, the shock taking him over as he sat there, limp, numb, with no emotion in his face.

"Found you."

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As the bed was slowly getting lifted, everything just froze, like time had stopped moving. However, with what little rationality Derrick had left, he noticed that the man didn't lift the bed up, he didn't peek under the bed, no, instead, he was just frozen in place, his body turned towards the bedroom window. That's when he saw lights, red and blue lights, flickering into his room, the sound of a siren became apparent. He knew what that meant, the police were here. The man knew that as well, and when he realised he would get caught, the man bolted out of the room.

Derrick sat there, scared, alone, still in shock. The man had went away, he couldn't hurt him now. Distant gunshots rang through his ears, but Derrick still didn't move from under the bed.

Derrick could hear the voices of the policemen shouting into the house, looking for anyone that was alive, looking for him. He saw the flashlights on the guns that they were holding firmly in their hands shine into his room.

"Over here!"

The shout came from the foot of his bed, and he was soon pulled out from under the bed. Still in shock, Derrick screamed but was soon shushed.

"It's okay kiddo, you're safe."

Derrick was helped up onto his feet and led out of the room. He was instructed to keep looking forward. They didn't tell him why but he knew the reason, and he obeyed because of it.

When they exited the house, Derrick felt cold, due to his wet clothes. He started shivering, and for that, he was given a blanket. He was sat down in a police car and told to stay inside, before they went around the neighbourhood to see if anyone had saw the break-in.

Derrick clutched the blanket around him and looked around. He spotted the shape of a body on the floor at the front of his house, covered up with a plastic tarp. His eyes lingered on it, he knew that was the man. He was dead, and he wouldn't hurt him now.

As he sat there, he recalled what he saw when he was hiding. Those black shoes, they were all too familiar to him. He grew familiar with their shape and print, they used to kick him in the gut repeatedly whenever he did something that didn't please the one wearing them.

The man's voice, he knew who that voice belonged to, it always spoke harsh words to him that he would never forget.

In a way, seeing that man's body made him feel happy, because Derrick knew, that since his father was dead, he couldn't hurt him anymore.

He was finally safe from his father.