The man of the dark

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Horror  |  House: House of Ghosts
The shadows are alive...

credit to my girlfriend for inspiration and the thumbnail picture

Submitted: August 31, 2016

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Submitted: August 31, 2016

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The man of the dark

By: Julia Musser


 


 

"Silent is the night, Silent is my heart, yet even with all my might, I cannot hide from the dark..."


 


 

I dream of a life without worry, without fear, without scars. But all I can really do is laugh at the thought, and carry on with my day, because all the thought is is merely a simple ponder, a daydream, a wish.

I have been given two hours to do whatever I wish before I become the darkness that haunts me. So I wish to record my terror enduring week, and hopefully whoever reads my story will believe how I truly died.


 

I first saw him on December 2nd, 2016. I assume though you would be aware of the year I died yet I cannot be to sure my letter will be found of this year or in the next five years.

The him I speak of is the man I am dull of lust for, since he is the one who will be the reaper of my soul. Yet this man is no human. He isn't anything living yet he isn't anything dead. He's somewhat in between. Stuck in between the reality you see now and the realm where we do are best to forget.

His appearance is a silhouette, which compares very much of man yet his aura compares more to the monster under our beds. If only he were simply a child’s fear of mine, but no. He is my very essence of death.

At first I thought it was a shadow in the corner of my eye. Boy, was I wrong. I quickly forgot of that occurrence and continued watching my daily dose of boring TV series fillers. The following day I saw him again but this time he was in a crowd at my local shopping market, staring at me. He does not have eyes but I could all but feel his gaze jabbing into my mind, ripping out my sanity. I stood there in shock staring back, heart racing, waiting for him to release his grip of sight from me. But he didn’t release me and even now as i write this, he still holds on.

The store around me started to fade away into darkness and I felt like my body was inching closer and closer to this figure. My mind was spinning, my heart had either buried its grave into my stomach or simply escaped altogether and my hands were soaked in sweat. And when my vision disappeared entirely all i could do was try to find my breath. Then, from the dark, I heard him. His deep, metal grinding voice, whispering into my soul.


 

"You are mine."


 

I panic more and more because I swore I could feel his breath on my forehead.


 

"Did you hear me, rat? You... are... MINE!"


 

I gulp. Trying to find my voice, I attempt to scream but I would simply engulf the shadows surrounding me as if I was underwater but I was drowning in darkness. Then in a rush of adrenalin and a boom of a high pitched peep I returned to the store screaming at the top of my lungs. I quickly cover my mouth with my hand as everyone else stared at me wondering which mental institute I had run away from. Like I said before, i still felt his cold, eery grip holding on to what i had left of my sanity and pride for that matter. Jumping over the spilled grocery’s from my shopping basket i escape the store running to my car and speeding off to the only place I thought i would feel safe.

Opening the door to my small apartment, I dashed in and immediately ran into the bathroom, locking the door behind me and sat in my dingy bathtub, crying. I feared for my life.

What happened?

Why did it happen?

What can or will happen?

What can I do?

These were the thoughts dancing around in my head as I sobbed my life into my tub. I couldn’t sleep that night. I kept remembering him, looking to see if he would appear again at the edge of my bed, outside my window, or directly in front of my face.

I got out of bed around 5:00 that morning without any sleep nor peace. His hands were still holding me even though I couldn't see him. I followed my morning routine with a heavy heart. I can't go to work in this state. I'm going fucking insane. His words repeating over, and over again in my head as clear as day.

You are mine

And I truly was, as each day went by, I grew more and more insane. Hearing his voice and seeing him around every corner and in every shadow. I hid in my apartment hoping no one would know of my pain. Yet I wanted and still want nothing more than to run in the street and call for help with all my heart. But he kept reminding me of who I belonged to.

Now we lead up to today. December 9th. If life would have been normal I would have begun preparing for Christmas. But my mind was almost gone. I sat in the corner of my living room, window blinds shut, doors locked, and a huge kitchen knife in my right hand. At that moment i am not certain of whether I was trying to protect myself from Him, or if i was preparing to end my suffering. But in that moment, it happened again. Darkness surrounding my vision, my heart beating faster and i attempt to plunge the knife into my chest but the darkness sweeps the blade from my dry fingers and clatters on the ground. Once again I'm alone in darkness with him.

But this time, I can breath, I can speak, and most importantly shout. And like before, his breath could be felt upon my forehead.

"WHAT DO YOU WANT DEMON!?"

I shout, imagining his face in front of mine since it would only make sense knowing his breathing must be coming from somewhere ahead of my face.

"You've been so, so obedient."

His voice was ever so slightly more content, but this did not change the feeling of fear and evil from his presence.

"W-WHY!?!"

I do my best to keep my voice as clear and firm as I could, but I was pinned under distress.

"Two hours. Use it wisely. Because you will soon become mine... forever."

I all of a sudden lose control of my breath and continue to drown into the darkness. I’m left gagging the shadows and then a sudden explosion of light fills my eyes and I collapse onto my hardwood floor covered in sweat. I focus my eyes down to the puddle of blood coming from my mouth and nose in front of me. I get up, using what little strength I have and Look around my surroundings.

Two hours!?

Blood is flooding from my mouth and spilling over onto my shirt and pants, staining the clothes I have been wearing for the previous week. I stumble up to a mirror, staring at the mess that I was, trying to collect my thoughts.

Two hours.

Then I make my final, sane decision. I grab a pen from my writing desk and a notebook from the bookshelf, and here I am now with ten minutes left. He will be back soon. And I don't have much time left, so I must quickly say my final thoughts before I am lost to this nightmare.

To my Mother and father I wish to say I love you. sorry for ever disobeying you and thank you for being the best role models ever.

To my best friend, Greg, I wish to say thanks for always being the one to buy me a beer on Saturday nights and that I’m sorry for not coming to visit you there this previous Saturday. Maybe we will see each other again in another place.

To the next door neighbors I wish to say sorry for the loud party’s I somethings would have that would wake your two kids. I should have been more considerate.

And finally to you reader. Thank you for saving my final goodbyes and for believing my story of how the man of the dark took my soul. Watch your back. Cause this might become your curse. In that case I'm sorry. But he will not let anyone escape the dark.


 

Salutations

Daniel Locksfield


 

"...I can fight with my fist, and with my words, but at his first glimpse, his gaze will kill you like a sword."


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