horror

Chapter 6

/ Adam Scott / 3 Comments

If you missed Chapter 5 you can read it here.

I wandered through the rest of the day at school in an almost dream like stupor.  Never before in my entire life had a dream felt so real.  Was it a dream?  If it was how did I explain the bite on my leg?

I decided to skip 4rth period for many, many reasons, and instead went to the library.  I spent the hour reading everything I could find on dreams, meanings, interpretations, etc. Some of what I read was really scary.

One author theorized that our dreams could even manifest in reality.  Could that explain the bite on my leg?

When school was over I walked home.  Step by step I took everything in.  Normally I would listen to music.  Daisily drifting along, not really paying attention to my surroundings. Not today.  Today I noticed every rock, every tree, the way Mrs. Waterman pranced around her house in her underwear oblivious to the fact that her blinds were open.  Everything.

When I got home a feeling of both excitement and dread started to creep up from the pit of my stomach.  Twisting and turning my emotions into knots like a pair of headphones that have sat at the bottom of your bag for weeks.

I stood there, in front of my house staring at the front door.  Should I go in?  Of course I should go in.  Why wouldn’t I go in?  It was my house afterall.  But standing there, looking at it, something felt wrong.  Something wasn’t right.

I shook my head, steadied myself and walked up to the front door.  This was silly.  It was just a dream.  A really powerful, confusing, emotionally scary dream, but it was still just a dream!

I had almost gotten myself under control when I looked down at the door handle, and for the first time noticed that the front door to my house was slightly ajar.

I froze, not daring to move.  It wasn’t until my brain and body started screaming for oxygen that I realized I had been holding my breath.

With a gasping breath I somewhat steadied myself and pushed open the front door.

My home was exactly the way I remembered it.  Clean, put together, and all the furniture in the right place.

I walked inside and called out to see if anyone was home.  The house remained unsettlingly quiet.

Carefully I crept into the kitchen looking around.  Was someone suppose to be home? What time would mom be getting back from picking up my sister from ballet?

I sat down at the kitchen table and took a heavy breath.

That is when I noticed the envelope sitting on the table with my name on it.  It was an old envelope weathered and yellow.  My name was written on the front in what could have only been a calligraphy pen of some sort.  Given the droplets of ink it might have even been done with an old ink and quill set.  Picking it up and turning it over I noticed a crimson wax seal.  I could make out the shape of a Y pressed deeply into the wax.

What the hell was this?

I broke the wax seal and pulled out a piece of weathered old parchment.  The handwriting was written in the same beautiful calligraphy as my name on the front of the envelop.

It read “Declan, by the time you read this you will have returned to your own time.  I am sure you are confused, and I am sorry for that.  Events are in motion, and I don’t know why but YOU are at the center of them.

iStock_000012456491SmallIf you are reading this at the time and place I think you are the world is coming close to an almost catastrophic event.  One that will change everything.  You have been given a small glimpse of what is to come.

I am still working out how, but it seems that you may be able to stop it, or at least warn people it’s coming.  However that time has not yet come.  You need to let events unfold naturally, and some of them are going to be very hard for you to get through.  I’m sorry for that.  There is no other way around it.

In a few short hours I believe you will join me here, again.  I am making preparations to show you the things you need to know.  When it happens please follow my instructions this time.  Our time together is very short and very brief.

In the meantime make yourself a sandwich.  Enjoy your time with family.  We will talk soon.

Sloane

P.S. Sorry about the dog bite, but I had to wake you up before the sun came up.”

 

 

Chapter 3

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30036a1433ecddeec1ed73b21c63e767Read chapter two HERE

Those piercing purple pupils bored into mine, I couldn’t tear my gaze away.

“Declan”

The moment she spoke I felt my blood run cold. Her voice echoed through the silence, but there was something more. Her voice sounded like gravel and dust, yet somehow ethereal.

I tasted blood in my mouth. I’d bitten through my cheek. But the metallic iron taste woke me up.

I didn’t wait for one more second. I didn’t even think. I just turned and ran.

I ran down the stairs, across the hall, and out the door. And I didn’t stop there. I kept running.

It wasn’t until I reached the end of my street that I dared glance over my shoulder. No one was following me. The street behind me was as run down as the rest of the town, but empty.

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I turned the corner a hurtled right into something, or more appropriately, someone.

I screamed. Like a little girl. I couldn’t help it. My nerves were shot. I screamed until I ran out of air. Then

I took a deep breath, and kept right on screaming. Like I said, it had not been a good day.

“Woah, kid, it’s alright. I’m not going to hurt you.”

I looked up into the face of the large man standing in front of me, and my strangling scream turned into laughter. Crazed, relieved, borderline psychotic laughter.

The man standing in front of me did not belong in this environment. He wore a neon yellow and turquoise Hawaiian shirt, green denim pants, and Crocs. Purple Crocs. His hair was an unnatural shade of red.

The man squinted his eyes and tilted his head to one side. I don’t think he knew how to react to my insanity.

“You laughing at my clothes kid?” He said, sounding stern, yet amused.

“I’m sorry, It’s just, if you knew how my day was going, you’d understand.”

He nodded, seeming to accept my weak explanation.

“What’s your name kid?” He asked.

“Declan.”

“Well Declan, we better get going, the sun’s about to come up, and we don’t want to be caught out here when it does.”

He started walked down the cracked street, away from my house. He moved so quickly I had to jog to keep up.

“Hey, hey.” I hollered at him but he didn’t stop.

“Who are you anyway? What is going on?”

He stopped then. He sighed and ran his fingers through his crimson hair.

“Listen Declan, I know who you are. And I can explain everything but it’ll take too long to explain here.

We need to get to safety, away from the sun.”

“I’m not going anywhere until you tell me your name and who you are.”

Chapter Two

/ Adam Scott / 3 Comments

If you missed Chapter One you can read it HERE

The figure jumped only slightly at the sound of my voice.  As my eyes adjusted I could see slightly better.  The women in front of me had her back to me, and she was staring out my bedroom window.  Or at least what had once been my bedroom window.  She was wearing a white dressed decorated in some sort of flower arrangement, but the dress itself was tattered, torn, and very dirty.

In her right hand she held something.  I had to concentrate, squinting into the darkness to just make out the shape of my old teddy bear that my mother had given to me as a child.  It too look ravaged by the passing of time.

“Who are you, and what are you doing in my house?” I said trying to emote a tone far braver then I was actually feeling.

At the sound of my words the women in front of me stopped swaying back and forth.  Her back started to straighten, and I could hear her making sniffing noises.  Short and crisp at first, and then long inhalations, like someone enjoying the scent of a tasty meal.

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The air seemed to grow cold, and suddenly every instinct inside me started to scream with alarm.  This was not my mother, and whoever or rather whatever it was, did not have supernatural-storygood intentions.

I tried to move my feet, but much to my extreme embarrassment, I found myself rooted to the floor in an overwhelming wash of terror.  I couldn’t move, and what was worse is I couldn’t take my eyes off the women standing in front of me.

This is a dream! I told myself. It has to be a dream!  Wake up! Wake up! Wake up!

But I didn’t.  I just stood there, glued to the spot, as I watched the women’s head pivot 180 degrees, and stare at me through crystalline purple eyes.