AFF's Tales from the Shoutbox 2015
Death has an Ugly Face
Death has an Ugly Face
Warnings: NoSex
Instructions: This is meant to be read in the voice of Vincent Price, keep that in your mind.
It’s dark. The moon is full, but it is covered by dense clouds that block out all but the faint tracings of silver around the edges. There is nothing around but trees, and an old dirt road leading to an ancient farmhouse.You look up at the sky, hoping for a break from the dark, but sigh and begin to make your way towards the house. You can faintly make out a gleam every so often of a faint light reflecting off of the broken glass that is left in the windows, and besides the sound of the wind, and the dirt crunching beneath your feet, there are no sounds. No birds, no crickets, or frogs. It’s as if this area is encased in a bubble that the world has hidden away.
You hear a shutter creak, then bang in the silence as the cold biting wind wraps around the house, before hitting you and driving the cold even further into your bones. The unnatural silence, combined with the almost pure darkness is taking it’s toll on your mind, and you swear you can see glowing eyes in the trees looking at you. But it’s not true, there isn’t a set of glowing eyes...there are many.
Your breathing speeds up, your heartbeat pounds, and you know that your only hope of making it home alive is to make it to the farmhouse and wait until daylight. You make no sudden movements, but your feet speed up just a bit, and the sweat dripping down your face begins to turn cold in the wind.
As your foot touches the bottom stair it gives a mighty groan, and a single howl is released into the night. Soon it is joined by another, and another. You close your eyes and run up the stairs, hoping that the door is unlocked, and that somewhere inside is a room with unbroken windows where you can hide until it all goes away.
The knob turns easily in your hand, and you rush to close the door behind you, but the room isn’t safe, there are too many ways in. You need to find somewhere to wait out the darkness, somewhere the monsters of the night can not find you.
Frantically you rush around, and there, between the rooms is a door, and upon further inspection, it is a stairway leading down. A basement, a perfect place to hide. You stay at the top of the stairs with your back against the door, bracing the locked door, just in case, but all is silent for a moment. Then you hear a sniff, it’s getting closer and you know it knows you are there.
Bam!
Something heavy hits the door, bouncing you off just enough that you hit your head against the door. As blood drips down the back of your neck, the banging grows louder, and nails begin to make long scratches on the wood. The door won’t hold forever.
But just as you start to think of what to do, you hear a sound that freezes the blood in your veins. A stair creaks in the darkness below you, then another one a moment later. The bangs behind you do not slow, but a rough voice can be heard in the chaos.
“Here kitty kitty, come out and play,” it says with a growl. “It’s better out here than in there.” Maniacal laughter is heard and turns into a chorus of howls, but the sound of your heart beat is almost deafening in your ears, as the stairs continue creaking. Closer and closer. Something is breathing, something not you. It is close enough, and large enough to hear over the scratchings coming from behind you, but you are frozen in fear, and don’t know what to do.
Death stares you in the face, but it is too dark to make out its features. You can feel the old doorknob in your hand, what will you do?
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