Twisted Dreams

Midnight

The hour hand on the old grandfather clock struck twelve.

Midnight.

Chimes rang through the house. On the eleventh bone-rattling chime, the child fell through the floor.

~•°•°--------------------°•°•~

"Mom?" He calls. It echoes through the cave. Faint rustling is heard from the opposite end. Water drips from stalagtites on the ceiling. "Mom?"

No response.

Red eyes blink open in the darkness. The child trips, sprawling out onto the rocks.

"Ow..." He clutches his scraped elbow, standing. Blood drips into the puddle at his feet. The red eyes are gone. "Mom..."

The child takes a tentative step, limping slightly. He finds the source of the small amount of light: a flickering flashlight laying on the ground, cracked. He lifts it up, grunting at the weight, and shines it around the cave. The shadows sway and morph, creating strange, otherworldly shapes. He gulps.

"...Mom?" The flashlight is directed at an unmoving shadow. The shadow flickers, and turns toward the child before vanishing with the sound of a scream being sucked into a vacuum.

The sound echoes, bouncing around the cave. It pounds against the child's head, making him grimace and clutch his forehead. He drops to his knees, head pounding against the never ending screaming, and the flashlight falls to the ground again. This time, it goes out.

The screaming stops.

Breathing hard, the child picks up the flashlight and shakes it, whacking it against his hand. It flickers, turns on for a moment, then goes out again. He chokes back a sob.

The crack of a stone falling to the rock floor sounds out, and the child claps a hand over his mouth. He looks around wildly. The red eyes are back, but this time they bob and weave, staying just out of reach.

Fast, powerful wind rushes at the child.

~•°•°--------------------°•°•~

The twelfth chime shakes the house with a definitive finality.

What child?