White Winter Nightmare

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Status: In Progress  |  Genre: Horror  |  House: Booksie Classic
This is a real nightmare I had when I was younger.

Submitted: September 07, 2016

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Submitted: September 07, 2016

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Growing up I always knew that life is sacred and that nobody should have power over life and death. It has never been mine or anyone else’s place to decide if someone deserved to live or die. I’m proud that I think this way. I sometimes talk about being tough and never running away from a fight but murder never was and never would be on my bucket list.

I remember one night though, it was a night like any other, lying in bed wide awake at 1am, feeling restless and rather unsettled. With the TV still on and the bright light illuminating the room I knew I wasn't going to get any sleep, but I wouldn't let the light go. In the darkness everyone realizes their true fears and lives them. They take form in the darkness and stand lucid and vivid right before you.

Maybe that's why other people convince us that our fear is silly, because they don't really exist to them. Whenever you have a fear that isn’t shared with or similar to someone else's, they’ll laugh at you, or question you are distance themselves from you. I've always been afraid of losing my sanity but I was definitely more scared of losing my morality. I always prided myself on how I made the right decisions and I always directed myself on what my conscience tells me. I always trusted my instincts.

As I was thinking about all of this I finally got to sleep, but I woke up immediately. I was rather surprised on how quickly that passed, but then as I looked around I realized that I wasn't awake. Either that or I had been abducted. I was in a completely white environment, too far stretched to just be a room. Ahead of me was a swamp­like field with a single large, black tree stemming from it. I saw a black, humanoid figure turn around and look at me with its featureless, expressionless face. It gazed for a few seconds before breaking into a sprint into the grass.

To this day, I have no idea why but I was compelled to follow it. I pushed my way through the tall grass in pursuit of this creature with single minded determination. I had no other agenda but to get to this entity, like a dog chasing a car I didn't know why I was following it or what I would do if I caught it or never caught it, all I knew was I had to get to it one way or another. As I scrambled through the thick grass I suddenly found myself wading through a very swamp-like lake embedded within the grassy terrain. I didn’t look down, as my only objective was this unknown person, until my leg ended up kicking a rounded and hollow object. I looked down and almost screamed for life. I was wading through a blood swamp with human skulls bobbing on the water. It was the most terrifying scene I’d ever come across. My entire lower half and the bottom of my shirt was drenched crimson red with blood. The blood was extremely thick and almost impossible to get through.

As I traversed the bog it seemed to rise as I got closer to the end. This was when I started to become scared as more and more skulls bobbed up out of the blood water. It was like quicksand as the level was at my shoulders. I was so close to the end. I just kept my sights above the lake and focused intently on the creature which only enhanced my tenacity and determination to catch it. Eventually I was able to emerge from the blood swamp, red liquid had become embedded into my clothes. As I looked around for the black figure I managed to get my sights on it again.

As I zoned in on the figure I saw it running through a passage between two mountains and, as expected, I was compelled to follow. However, this sudden change in scenery did capture my interest. Where had these mountains suddenly come from? I never noticed them when I was running through the swamp. I quickly glanced back and noticed the swamp was gone and replaced with the endless white field I saw at the beginning of this chase. I disregarded this strange occurrence and kept up the pursuit as I ran toward the entrance, still determined to catch this thing. The pass seemed to go on forever and somehow looked as if it was closing in on us as we made our marathon through it. As I was running I looked away from the creature's back and looked toward the cliff edges and was not shocked but still surprised to what I saw. The edges were lined with corpses hanging from ropes.

As if a serial killer was morbidly decorating his slaughter house, they all bled from the neck and mouth as if someone slit their throats before hanging them. The strangest part was that they were all the same person. A girl with dark brown hair and a black dress with grey jeans but no shoes. How was it possible for the exact same girl to be hanging from the cliff edges every time I looked towards the mountains? It was horrifying but I refused to give up on the chase. After reaching the end of the mountain pass the figure began up a particularly large mountain with a spiral pathway leading to the pinnacle. It was a trying task but this time I was hell bent on getting to this creature, I felt devilishly compelled to catch it, the feeling made me slightly apprehensive of the consequences of this pursuit. Nonetheless, I followed.

This time all focus was on the shadow figure, I would not relent until I had it under my control. As I was running I felt addicted to the thought of catching this figure, as if my entire existence and well being depended on getting to it.

Nearly to the top of the mountain and I was so close, merely inches away from grabbing it. As we reached the top the figure stopped before falling off the edge. I grabbed it by the head and, as I expected it flailed wildly like a trapped beast struggling for freedom. Before I could say anything the creature raised its hand and I was witness to a giant, black, clawed hand and the next moment saw the claws dig into my belly. The pain was so real, I screamed in agony and my grip on its head and neck only became tighter. The creature became desperate to be free of me and I felt something bite sharply into my arm.

I let out a most unholy sound. A sort of distorted screech, comparable only to the sound of a hybrid between a crow and a lion screaming in terror. I'd had enough. I felt a great rage fill my body, mind and soul and before I knew it my arms threw themselves away from the creature's head. Its lifeless body crumpled to the ground, the cracking and snapping noise echoing in my head. I looked at the body and it began to move again, as if ready to deliver a killing strike. I could think of no alternative, I rushed toward the body and began to hammer my fist into what could be best described as its head.

As I delivered each blow to the dead centre of its skull a black sort of ooze seeped from the back of its head, which I assumed to be its blood. After my last punch the body seemed lifeless for certain until it began to move yet again. This time I wasn't scared, I was angry. I never felt like this before. I wanted it to die so badly.

I didn't care what it was or who it was, why it was here or even the consequences of taking its life, I just wanted it dead. I picked up a nearby rock the size of a small animal and began to cave in its head.

I could hear squelching and breaking of what might have been a skull like structure within its head. With each strike I felt more and more exhilarated, the sound of its skull breaking, the sight of its 'blood' seeping from its head. Eventually I gave in and stood from the creature to see my work. I looked back and my feeling of achievement was suddenly replaced by a terrifying feeling of horror and dread. As my eyes travelled toward the ruined corpse I’d just murdered I felt something snap and drown inside me. The creature I was chasing, the figure I had brutally murdered in the most gruesome fashion, was me.

I looked in terror as I saw my own face broken and mauled, my skull shattered into a thousand pieces and my own blood staining my clothes, hands and face. I was unable to move or breathe as I stared into my own empty, lifeless eyes. I was incapable of facing the truth of what I had done. Suddenly, a sharp screaming noise echoed throughout the mountaintop and I crouched down, slamming my hands on to my ears to block it out but the screeching still rang inside my head. I closed my eyes hoping the nightmare would end. I opened my eyes and I was back in my bed. Cold sweat running down by head and my entire body trembling. But I was relieved, the hell was finally over.

I had to take a few moments to think about what I had done but before I could indulge in my soul­ searching I felt a sharp burning sensation on my forearm. I looked down to see my bed and arm painted red with my blood. I was suspicious but knew I had to bandage it up and change the sheets. As I got up to get to the kitchen I realised the nightmare wasn't over. The floor was covered in what looked like red paint footprints leading to the far corner of my room. I followed with my eyes and looked toward the table next to the door. Sitting on the table was a black silhouette with a head split in two, blood flowing out of the crack and a brain clearly visible. It looked like freshly carved meat from a slaughterhouse. I saw the head raise up and two glowing, red orbs staring at me. The nightmare wasn’t over yet.


© Copyright 2017 J.J. Matthews. All rights reserved.

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