Short Stories

The World of Nightmares

Brian Edwards shoved open the door, glad to finally be out of the rainstorm. He slammed the door closed, then leaned against it, closing his eyes and breathing hard. He had fought with his umbrella, but finally lost the battle with the wind. He was soaked through to the bone and shivered with the cold it left behind.

He finally tossed his keys on the counter, pushing off the door. He peeled his soaked travelling trench coat from his skin, throwing it over a chair as he walked by. He plopped down heavily in a kitchen chair, and pulled off his shoes that had left muddy footprints through the kitchen. Water leaked out of them as he tipped them upside down. He heaved a sigh, dropping his shoes and collapsing against the back of the chair.

Slowly, he stood, then lifted one leg at a time to peel off the drenched socks. He walked over to the phone, pressing the light switch beside it. Nothing happened. He groaned as thunder rolled above, laughing at his bad luck. He pulled open a nearby drawer and dug through until he found a flashlight. He wanted to change before he did anything else, and a power outage was not going to stop him.

As he descended the basement stairs, his foot landed wrong on some dirty article of clothing he had thrown downstairs earlier that day, causing him to trip. He yelled as he collapsed, falling down the stairs. When finally he stopped falling and had landed unceremoniously, sprawled out on the ground, he noticed the red light first. Slowly, he lifted his head. Black silhouettes faced him in the dark. The red light did not give any of the silhouettes faces or details in the dark, it only made them exist in front of Brian. Everywhere he looked, he could only see silhouettes. This was not his basement.

He shakily pushed himself up to his knees before slowly standing. He felt unsteady and disoriented, thought nothing felt broken or injured from his fall.

Some silhouettes were taller and wider and he, some smaller but bigger. All, he knew, were looking at him.

The red light glowed on, though it seemed to be floating in mid air, not attached to a wall as he had first assumed.

"Hello?" he called out, knowing it was a mistake but not knowing what else to do.

"Hello," a voice said back. It wasn't whispered, but it wasn't yelled. The voice seemed to echo all around him, not coming from one silhouette or place. It was not male or female, robotic or human. He didn't know what to make of it.

"Welcome to the World of Nightmares," the voice in his head continued. "We can't wait to see how you'll try to escape. We know you'll hate it here." And all around him, the silhouettes started laughing maniacally, and he knew that the voice was inside all of them, and he knew it controlled them, as it soon would him.