The Follow(polished version)

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Horror  |  House: Booksie Classic
This is the edited story of "The Follow".

Submitted: December 09, 2016

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Submitted: December 09, 2016

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The Follow

I awakened to hear my pregnant wife shrieking in pain. It was time! I rushed her to the hospital, sweat pouring from my body. Outside the delivery room, I waited and waited; the operation took many hours. Finally, I heard a cry, a sweet, beautiful cry from our baby. The doctor allowed me to enter the room where my wife was kissing the pink, chubby cheeks of our child. We have a girl with breathtaking blue eyes and rosy, red lips like her mother’s. She looks like an angel! We have been given a wonderful kind of blessing.

We lived in a tiny house, in a small peaceful village near the river. Our baby, Melody, grew into a sweet, kind, gentle and innocent young girl. My wife and I loved her and cherished her with all our hearts. When my wife’s parents died we moved to their old, spooky mansion. The house is cold and enormous with pale and lifeless walls. We decided to bring the house back to life. I decided to start cleaning one of the vast rooms that was covered with spider webs. The room was empty inside and led to a gigantic closet at the end of the room. I opened the old, dusty antique closet door and found a pile of dresses; their colors were completely faded and some of them were already ripped apart. I didn’t think that the dresses belonged to my wife’s mother. If they were, she would have probably thrown them away. I saw some boxes on another shelf and discovered some black and white pictures that had been torn apart. I didn’t recognize any of the faces, and guessed they were photographs of some of their ancestors.

As I picked up a feather duster to begin cleaning, I heard my wife screaming in pain. I rushed out into the next room and the first thing I saw was blood; blood everywhere, splattered like paint on the walls. The chandelier had fallen and the impact crushed my wife to death. I held her lifeless body as her thick blood oozed over my fingers. I heard a tiny anguished cry and looked up to see my darling Melody standing near me in shock. I called the police because there was nothing else to do. It was too late! My wife was already dead.

In the following days and months, I became bitter and morose, but I still tried to be a good father to my only child. In my sorrow, I became addicted liquor. Every night, Melody hid in her room while I drank and threw empty wine bottles and glasses at the walls. I knew she had become afraid of me. I never wanted this for her.

I heard voices coming from the room where my wife died. I stumbled to the door and heard screams, shattering glasses and someone crying like they were begging to be freed. It was a total nightmare! I tried to open the door but it won’t budge, I kicked the door down, but there was no one in the room but Melody. She’s was holding her pillow and trembling. As I approached her, she opened her mouth and dark blood flowed from her red lips. In the moonlight, her eyes shown with a bloody stare. Her face started to dissolve; my angel had turned into a demon! A husky, growling, voice came from her mouth. “Daddy, what’s wrong?” I squeezed my eyes tightly shut and opened them and saw that Melody fine and normal again. I hugged her warm body and kissed her forehead good night.

Now, I never get a good night’s sleep. Every night, I lay in bed listening for the hum Melody’s breathing. But I hear the voice of my wife shrieking like the day Melody was born. Everything sounds like a horror show. When I open my eyes I see my wife at the corner of the room in front of my bed, she just stands there staring at me bitterly. Her eyes are full of accusations; telling me it was all my fault. I shut my eyes and pray hoping she can find peace. A chilly wind brushes my cheeks like it was a dead man’s breath. It softly whispers in my ears, repeating my prayers in reverse. At first, it was my wife’s voice, then it fades into a dreadful fearful voice. I open my eyes and see a bloody, splattered body in front of me. There is blood dripping from its face; a face that looked like it had been shattered by a bomb. I can see its inner organs and its eyes are hanging out of their sockets while its cheekbones are sticking out its skin. I rushed out of the room and grabbed Melody and left this horror house.

We went back to the river house and tried forget the nightmare we experienced there. Melody kept asking what happened, I felt too much pressure and became irritated. I screamed at her and she froze on her feet while her blue eyes started to sparkle in tears and her cheeks started to blush red. Before I could reach out to her, she ran away from me. As midnight arrived, I woke up on the couch knowing that I overslept due to lack of
sleep. I walked to my room and Melody’s voice from her room caught my attention. It sounded like she was talking to someone. I stood in front of her door knowing that she was alone, but I could hear her talking to someone and replying to someone but there was no other voice that I could hear. Melody said that I’m a jerk, coward and a stupid father. When I heard these words, my blood boiled with anger and I stormed into her room and I beheld this warped faced demon in front of my child. I seized demon’s neck in rage hoping that I could choke it to death. I punched its face over and over, blow by blow. I heard Melody whimper in terror behind my back while I savagely massacred this demon. The impact from my knuckles caused the demon’s face to swell up and become unlike a face. Blood splattered all over the room as its flesh was coming off and peeled away, revealing its broken bones. I stopped knowing that this demon was dead, Suddenly, I heard Melody’s cry turn to giggles and laughter. It was a demonic laugh. I looked back at her but couldn’t find her! I turned back to the corpse that I was holding. In shock and terror, I saw blue eyes falling from their sockets. Its nose was completely broken, and the red lips dissolved into a pool of blood. Melody, my sweet angel, died in my arms. I held my child’s cold body and cried until I had no tears left to cry. 

It’s not the house nor my child, but it was me who was being followed by the darkness. I held my last breath until the very end. I stood high on a chair in front of my child; seeing faces without a face and only shadows grinning at me. I hung myself. The last thing I saw was Melody holding her mother’s hands, waiting for me to die.

End
 


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