Help Me

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Horror  |  House: Booksie Classic
My entry for the Whispers in the Dark Contest, by AnarchyBlues.

Submitted: June 04, 2016

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Submitted: June 04, 2016

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Jenna sped out of the woods with ripped clothes and a bleeding knee. She ran, or at least tried to, limping around with her bruised leg, cold tears rolling down her cheeks in that winter night. She looked back hurriedly, squinting her eyes as she pointed her feeble flashlight towards the small opening in the forest from where she had just come from. They weren’t anywhere in sight. But she could still smell them. She always could. Jenna turned off her light to save energy, deciding it was a good time to take a break. She sat on the ground quietly, her hard breathing showing in the air as the steam came out of her mouth each time she exhaled. It was a silent night. Too silent. She was in the middle of nowhere, true, but even so, she should have been able to hear the plethora of sounds particular to nature. The wind on the trees’ leaves, the squirrels hopping from their branches, bigger animals chasing them. She hadn’t noticed until she was out of the woods, but she later realized. That night, she couldn’t hear any of it. The forest was dead silent. Dead.

After a few minutes, the dripping of a sweat bead into her eyelid woke her from her thoughts and got her back into her feet. The smell had grown stronger. They approached. She had to move. Before her was a narrow path of dirt cutting through a large field of very tall grass. It looked abandoned and unkempt; the grass probably hadn’t been cut in years. At some spots Jenna could barely even see the trail. It was, however, her best option. Her only option, truly. There was simply no way she would ever go in the opposite direction, right into them. Right into their hands. No, not hands. Claws. The thought of them lurking in the shadows, their fur glistening in the pale moonlight, coated with the vital fluids of countless victims before her. The unbearable smell. Just thinking of it made Jenna sick. And she knew they would not stop. They never did.

The road got worse and worse as she walked down it. The grass looked thicker and thicker and soon Jenna could not see anything except what was immediately in front or behind her, lit by her weakening flashlight. And then everything got colder. And colder. And colder. It was winter, yes, but even so the sudden temperature drop was absolutely not normal. Her mouth got dry quickly and her skin got more blueish with every step she took. It was still better than going back, though. She had her eyes closed only a few seconds when she stepped on something. Something? Or was it someone? She stopped. She slowly looked down and what she saw made her heart race. A hand and a forearm were on the ground, sticking out of the grass. It looked grey and, if it was attached to anyone, then certainly they were dead. Nonetheless, something within Jenna pushed her into finding out. She crouched slothfully and very carefully. With her trembling index she touched the arm. Nothing. She wanted to just move on, but she couldn’t. Something was making her stay. She touched it again. Still nothing. With a sigh, she nodded to herself and got ready to get back up. The hand came to life and grasped Jenna’s arm tightly, getting a loud, terrified gasp out of her as she fell on her back.

 

Help… Me…

 

Those were the only words Jenna could hear. They had surely come from the person hidden in the grass, a desperate cry for help in that abandoned road to nowhere. They still hadn’t released her arm and their touch felt like ice. It hurt her. Closing her eyes, Jenna took a deep breath and pulled herself back together. She looked down and grabbed the arm, the cold burning her hand. She got up as well as she could and pulled on the arm. It seemed stuck. But in what? She pulled harder. It appeared that it was indeed, and thankfully, attached to someone. The person was a woman, small and weak, long dark hair dragging on the ground and… And she had no eyes.

 

Help. Me.

 

The woman tightened her grasp around Jenna’s arm, the dirty, black nails digging into her flesh, tearing her skin, making her grunt. Jenna nodded quickly and tried to get rid of the hurtful hand, shaking it off violently until she succeeded. She felt fingers trailing through her hair, making her turn around promptly. Nobody. The two women were alone. When she turned back around, she covered her mouth to try not to vomit. It felt like her internal organs had been tied in a knot. Dozens of other arms had appeared from within the grass on both sides of the path, waving around desperately. When she looked down at the woman, Jenna saw that not only her arm had been trapped again, but also that the woman was grinning at her. Grinning. All the arms stopped when they moaned in a chorus:

 

Help me.

 

The cold had not gotten any better but, thanks to it, the pain in Jenna’s knee seemed to have been anaesthetized, helping her run off as fast as she possibly could as soon as she had managed to yank her arm free. The dirt path seemed to get even slimmer as she pressed on, dodging all the waving arms on her way. It was a dark night and the moon was covered by the clouds, so she shook her lantern up and down, praying to get some more power out of it. It lit up right as she accidentally dropped it on the dirt. She stopped right then, judging that she’d had a better chance to survive if she could at least see where she was going. When she turned around to get it, what she saw nearly brought her to the point of crumbling down. The arms had come out of the grass, along with their respective bodies and had merged into this big, atrocious thing. Men, women, children and elders had been somehow sown together, legs and arms crawling slowly towards her. There were no eyes in that thing, but a hundred smirking mouths. They did not move at all. Yet, she could hear each one of them.

 

 

Help. Me. Help. Me. Help. Me.

 

And she could smell them. She always could. It was them. As Jenna watched, petrified in place, it seemed like the newborn creature was getting a hang of its crawling motions, gradually moving faster in her direction. In a short moment of sanity, she looked down and found her flashlight. It was still lit up. Something was shining faintly in the light. When she looked closer, Jenna found it to be an old rusty axe. She took them both and resumed her running. The creature was getting faster. The crawling soon turned into walking on several deformed arms and legs, which in time turned into galloping. That thing would eventually catch her and she knew it.

A small wooden cabin appeared in the distance as the road finally led out of the never ending grass fields. With what was left of her strength, Jenna powered through her pain and ran the remaining of the way until the cabin. The door was locked. No light was coming from inside but she banged at the door and shouted for help anyway, knowing that her life depended on getting inside. The feeling of three icy cold hands grabbing her ankle made her jump. She turned around and saw the beast. It had caught up so fast. As she was still holding the axe, she flung it blindly in front of her, chopping into the monster, cutting it furiously. Bleeding members fell on the ground, the holes left behind them oozing a strange, thick, black liquid. The grinning mouths remained untouched. With every arm or leg that Jenna ripped away, others made their way to grab her body. The scene lasted what seemed an eternity, until finally the monstrous thing collapsed in at her feet, still smiling widely. She watched as it melted before her crying eyes. And just like that, it was all gone. She stood there, covered in her own bruises, thin streams of blood sliding down her face.

She heard the door opening behind her. Helpless, Jenna walked into the cabin, groaning with every step. She closed the door and looked around. It was small. A bed, a chair, a table. Like all the rest, it was abandoned. When the flashlight died for good, Jenna decided to get her well-deserved rest, sitting on the chair, in the dark.

The feel of a raspy tongue dragging up her nape sent a chill down her spine. Frozen in space, she heard a whisper in her ear.

 

 

Help.

Me.

 

 

 

1486 words.



© Copyright 2017 Greg H. Alves. All rights reserved.

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