Happy Aschlynn? I did as you requested.
Ok, so Aschlynn was all like. "Write or face my wrath!" so I figured I'd write a little something.
All was dark, darkness, nothing but darkness. It was always dark. But never like this. Why was it like this? Nobody could answer that. Not a single person. Slowly, ever so slowly, things took shape. A man lay on the floor in the cold, dark night. Slowly gaining vision. But was what he saw real, or just a dream, he wished he knew. He would have killed for an answer right then. He was of average height and weight, as far as one could tell. But looks can be deceiving. He was crumpled up on the floor of a very dusty old house. He was a few stories up by the looks of what he saw through the window. Every flash of lightning giving him temporary vision. He saw the top of a tree.
He consciously got to his feet and stood staring out the window. How did he end up in a place like this? Fields, as far as the eye could see, were flooding due to the heavy rainfall. Why was it always raining, everywhere he went, always. He needed sunlight now, more then ever he prayed for it. Why it never came is a mystery yet to be solved. He walked toward the window to get a view of this tree. Why was there this one lone tree, standing there, taller then everything else around? Why was this one here, but no others anywhere in sight?
The tree was white. With dying leaves. They were brown and slowly drying out. How were they drying out? It was raining... but they dried before his eyes.
A flash of lightning. The tree was struck with the force of mother nature. The top half of the tree fell to the ground with a sickening thud. Everything always had to be loud. He had a headache. Always. It never left him, it journeyed with him, it would die with him. He decided going down to the main floor was a good idea and sprinted for the stairs.
As he passed by one floor of the house he noticed a musky smell. He wanted to explore. He had the urge to. But the lightning quickly made up his mind for him. The stairs creaked under the weight of his body. His shoes added a small thud to each creak. Why was he wearing shoes if he had just woken up? Was this all a dream? If it was, it certainly was the most realistic one he had ever had. What was going on? Where was he?
As he finally reached his desired floor he noticed that there were piles of old junk, mostly children’s toys and such, littering the floor. There was a small candle lighting the room. Everywhere he stepped there was something under him. This began to confuse him. What had happened here? Why was he here? He couldn’t get over the fact that he had no idea where he was.
He went through some old desks. He scanned everything, taking in all the details about this odd house. But he began to feel awkward. As if someone was watching him. Someone or something. Why did he feel like this. He was never wrong with this feeling. Somewhere in that room was another living being. Most likely a human. But it could be a dog or a cat.
He could always sense these things. Ever since he was a young lad. He began to remember back in those days. Why was he so weird? What was in that room with him? Why was this happening?
He looked over the room. Where was it? He gave up on his search. There was too much of everything everywhere. Every child’s toy imaginable littered the ground. The floor was not to be seen. What did the floor look like? He pushed some toys out of the way as he crouched down. A gust of wind. Where the hell did it come from? The candle went out just as he found the floor. All was dark. The room was only lit by the sudden flashes of lightning. Then the house was shaken by thunder.
He heard footsteps. Whatever was in that room was coming for him. He quietly moved himself back into a wall. Or, at least he thought it was a wall. A hand reached down and grabbed his mouth. Another grabbed his throat. Another grabbed his ear and began to pull on it. Another grabbed his other ear and, that one, too, began to pull. His ears were torn off. Blood would have been seen pouring out of his head had there been any light at all.
The Lightning had ceased to flash for some time now. It was then, though, that he noticed these hands could not have belonged to a human. He couldn’t match them to a name...
They were hairy. The hair was very thin and very long. They had claws at the end of each finger. Long, thin claws. They felt like cold steel.
The claws were now driving into his neck and cheek. The hands were not going to let go. He flailed wildly, gasping for breath. His arms were of no use. Whatever this thing was, it was much too powerful for him. He flipped over and kicked it. It fell back. But he paid a price for that one. The claws dug deep into his skin and took half of his face with them. He let out a howl of pain. No time, he ran out the door into the dead of night. He stepped off the deck into a knee deep puddle.
It couldn’t be a puddle, there was no way it was. It didn’t seem to have an end. This was too big to be a puddle. The rain was hammering down hard. Each hit stung. He felt as though he was being beaten by a baseball bat. He could finally seethe blood pouring out of his head where he had once had ears. The pain is so real, is this real, or just a dream?
He waded through the pond that lay in front of him. He didn’t care what lay ahead, he just had to get away from what was behind. He began to argue with himself. He tried to convince himself it was a dream. But he had solid arguments that made him think otherwise. He didn’t know what to believe. Nor did he care anymore. He just had to get away.
The doors to the house flung open and the creature began to bound after him. Thirty metres. He had to move quicker. Twenty metres. He had to get away. What could he do, he was in an open field that was flooded. The farther he went, the higher the water was, he was now up to his waist in it. Ten metres. His fate had been sealed. He knew this. But still, he was determined. He could beat this. Nine metres. He had to see what he was up against in order to beat it. He turned around.
In the time he turned around the creature managed to gain another seven metres. He knew what this was. It was all in his imagination. He was dreaming! Finally he got his answer. Nothing could ever look like that and not have been dreamt up.
The creature latched itself onto his arm with its enormous teeth. Each tooth rivalled the size of a steak knife. Each tooth dug its way into his body until they were hidden entirely. The pain he faced was immense. But he was there smiling. I’ll be alright.
How wrong the poor guy was. He was, in fact, awake. He died that night. He made the wrong choice. Had he gone deep enough in, he would have known that the creature couldn’t swim.
Think about it. The choices you make effect your life more then you’d like to think.
Leave a comment if you read it, I want your feedback!