Demonic Eyes

Demonic Eyes

Status: In Progress

Genre: Mystery and Crime



Status: In Progress

Genre: Mystery and Crime



This is the first chapter of a book I am currently writing. In the story a girl is having night terrors of her ex-step father. This chapter is mainly about the night terror she has. Please feel free to comment on how you think it is!
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This is the first chapter of a book I am currently writing. In the story a girl is having night terrors of her ex-step father. This chapter is mainly about the night terror she has. Please feel free to comment on how you think it is!

Chapter1 (v.1) - Chapter One

Author Chapter Note

Main character's night terror.

Chapter Content - ver.1

Submitted: March 30, 2017

Reads: 48

A A A | A A A

Chapter Content - ver.1

Submitted: March 30, 2017



Chapter One

I’m sitting at the dinner table with my mom and step-father.  We just started to eat dinner, Chicken Alfredo, my favorite, when I notice that the clouds outside have appeared to get even darker than ten minutes ago.  I continue to eat my dinner.  Suddenly I’m in my living room watching one of my favorite shows.  Roughly five minutes pass and I hear a blood-curdling scream appearing to come upstairs from my mother’s bedroom.  Startled by the scream I sit up, trying to determine what I had just heard.

After not hearing anything for a minute I get up from the couch and walk over to the stairwell, heading up the stairs. Trying not to make a sound I walk on my tip toes up the stairs, as quietly as I possibly can.  As I almost reach the top of the stair, a stair creaks.  My heart skips a beat, but I continue up the steps.  I reach the top and a head towards my mother’s room on the left.  I follow the railing to the end of the hall, reaching my mother’s room.  

Her bedroom light is on and the door is slightly open.  Listening intently I hear my step-father say something that I wasn’t able to make out.  It almost seemed like he said now I have to clean up this mess, but I wasn’t entirely sure. I peek into the bedroom door.  There David is, hovering over something while holding something, unable to see what exactly.  He drops the item from his hand and it falls to the floor, making a loud thud.  I gasp.  David spins around, making eye contact with me through the crack of the door.

“What’r you doing up here?” he asks with what appeared to be an angry tone.

“I-I thought I heard a scream, I just checking to see if anyone was hurt up here.  Are you guys okay?”  I try not to sound frightened even though my heart was racing.

“Just go back downstairs, everything is fine.  Your mom saw a spider, and you know her and spiders, she screamed.  I took care of it though, so please, just go back downstairs.” David stares at me, waiting for me to leave, but I didn’t buy his story, it didn’t make sense. I don’t recall my mom being that afraid of spiders.  So why would she scream like that?

“Well can I at least tell my mom goodnight?  I forgot to when you guys came up here.” I took a step forward while I said it, trying to see what he had been hovering over.

“You don’t fucking drop shit do you?  I said go back downstairs, just listen for once okay?” David was yelling now, which made me jump.  Why the hell was he being so defensive?

“David, I want to see my mother, right, now.” Even though I’m acting super calm at this point I felt like I was going to faint from being so scared.

“Ava, I’m telling you to just listen to me. Why must you be so fucking difficult? Just listen for once.”

“And why would I listen to someone that I don’t consider family, David?  You are just another man that my mother brought home and hasn’t left.  Let me see my mother right now.” The words are out of my mouth before I even realize what I’ve said, too late. Fuck.

David appeared enraged. His eyes were dark, like creepy fucking horror movie dark.  He moved away from the door for a second and grabbed the item that had fallen to the floor previously.  I thought I saw a puddle of blood.  I pushed the door open wider and saw that he picked up a knife.  It was bloody and big.  I was right, there was blood, a lot of fucking blood.  The bedroom, once white, was now a crimson red.  

“Ava, all I asked was for you to go back downstairs, but now,” David exhaled deeply, “now I’m going to have to do something neither of us wants.”  David was standing next to a table near the doorway spinning the knife around in circles with the point of his index finger.

I’m now breathing heavy, realizing that whatever might happen next, it wasn’t going to be good.

“No,” I said sternly.

David is laughing now, “Oh Ava, you know I have no choice.  So I’ll tell you what, I’ll give you a headstart. But I must warn you, I gave your mother one and she still didn’t make it.  So, try to be quicker.  Ready, set…”

I turned around and started heading towards the stairs before he could say go.  Running faster than I had ever before my foot doesn’t move fast enough and I trip down the stairs, tumbling to the bottom, falling on my face.  I wince in pain as I think I’ve twisted my ankle.  David is at the top of the stairs now, looking down at me with a smirk on his face.

Now I’m hiding in my closet, unable to figure out how I’ve gotten there.  David enters my room and I try to keep quiet.  He notices my door being slightly open. Shit. I forgot to close it all of the way.  David flings open the closet door and starts to drag me out by my excessively long hair.  I frantically try to find something to hold onto but there’s nothing.  David then throws me on my bed.  I see the knife coming for me.

Then I wake up.

I grab my phone and check the time, it’s almost two in the morning.  I turn my bedside lamp on and try to focus my sight again as the light is brighter than expected.  My blankets are skewed all around my bed.  Not a single blanket was covering me anymore.  My pillow is on the floor next to me end table.  This wasn’t the first time I woke up with my room like this.  The nightmare was longer this time, more detailed.  I get up to get a glass of water.  My bathroom is close so I don’t have to go far, but I still turn the hall light on because it’s pitch dark.  I flip the light on in the bathroom, noticing my cat Twinkle sleeping in the sink.  I lightly pet her and she gets up, stretches, and leaps down to the toilet.  I smirk.  I fill up the glass that’s sitting on the sink to the brim and chug the ice cold water, quenching my thirst.  Looking in the mirror I notice that I have bags under my eyes again.  I haven’t been able to get a decent night's sleep in what seemed forever.  My hair is all frizzled and halfway out of the bun that I had put it in before bed.  I hear a loud growl, my stomach.

I make my way downstairs to the kitchen where Twinkle followed me.  Twinkle jumped up onto the center island in my newly renovated kitchen.  Her tail flails and knocks the butter dish onto the floor.  

I gasp loudly, “Twinkle!  Your damn tail made something fall, again!”  I pick up the butter dish from the floor, thankful that the butter didn’t get all over the floor.  I toss the butter dish in the sink and head for my fridge.  Not much in it, eggs, milk, butter, orange juice, and leftover pizza.  I grab the orange juice and pizza.  I was too lazy to grab a glass for the orange juice so I started to drink from the carton.  I put the pizza in the microwave for a few seconds.  Once I’m done eating I head back upstairs.

I reach the top of the stairs and go to my bedroom.  Once getting into my room I again realize that my room is a mess.  I briefly make my bed. Twinkle jumped up on my bed once I was done making it and curled up in a ball.  I start to pet her.  I haven’t pet her in so long as she’s been hiding for the past week.  

“Long time no see Twinkle,” I whisper.  Twinkle starts to purr and pushes her head into my hand, encouraging me to pet her more. Twinkle drifts off when I realize that it’s the middle of the night and I should probably be sleeping as well.  I get under my blankets and turn on Netflix, clicking on “Law and Order: Special Victims Unit”, my favorite show.  I turn the light off and watch a few minutes of the show before falling asleep.

It’s six in the morning.  My blankets are thrown around again, along with my pillow on the floor. I’m drenched in sweat.  Shit, another fucking nightmare? Two in one night has never happened.  Netflix has been stopped by that dumb pop up “Are you still watching?” Even though I no longer know what’s happening in the show I click yes.

I make my way to the bathroom, looking in the mirror again noticing that my bags are darker now.  I look like a fricken zombie.  I grab a towel from the cabinet next the sink and hang it up near the shower.  I turn the shower on and let the hot water run, whistling like a tea kettle.  

Undressing, I look in the mirror again.  I run my fingers over the scars on my chest and stomach, trying not to remember how I got them.  The bathroom is now filling with a foggy haze.  Although the water is hot, it’s also relaxing and comforting.  I wash my hair and face, then apply conditioner to my hair.  Once done with washing my body and shaving I rinse away the suds and the conditioner from my hair.  I then stand under the cascading water for a little while.  I shut the water off and reach for the towel outside the shower.  I push the shower curtain open and step onto the bathmat outside of the tub.  I dry off quickly and throw my hair in a towel to dry.  Walking across the tiled floor because it’s cold, standing in front of the mirror yet again.  It’s fogged from the steam.  I towel dry my hair some and then grab the hair dryer, plugging it in, turning it on high. Before drying my hair I move the dryer over the mirror, attempting to rid of the fogginess.  It starts to work and then it’s gone.  I dry my hair.  While drying my hair I notice that my dark circles have faded some and I don’t look so zombie-ish. I finish drying my hair and then go to my bedroom.

To my surprise “Law and Order: SVU” is still playing so I pause it. I then grab an outfit for the day out of my dresser.  I quickly get dressed.  Now I head back to the bathroom to do my makeup. My makeup takes up an entire drawer.  I grab out what I need and start to do my makeup.  

Roughly an hour later I’ve finished my makeup and leave the bathroom.  As I open the door rays of sunshine pour onto me from the window in the room across the hall.  It’s a beautiful summer morning.  Birds are chirping their morning songs and the squirrels are running around trying to find food.  I hear a vehicle pull into my driveway, it’s my aunt, Laurie. Laurie owns about 20 hair salons throughout southern California.  That means I can get my hair done anytime I want.  I giggle at the thought and head downstairs.  I open the door and there she is, heading up the walkway with my cousin Jake.  Laurie had adopted him at age four from a family in Louisiana.  Jake was fifteen now, star of his soccer team.  He ran up to me and gave me a tight hug.

“Cousin Ava!  It feels like it’s been so long! Last time I saw you I think was when..” Jake went silent, remembering when exactly the last time we saw each other.  My mother’s funeral.  

“It’s okay Jake, you can say it.  It was my mom’s funeral.  I’m better now, it’s been almost year, I think I should be able to talk about it by now.”  Even though I acted like all was good I still broke a little inside when thinking about her funeral.  My mother died about nine months ago in a car accident on her way to work.  Her brakes wouldn’t work and her car crashed into an oncoming semi that had swerved into her lane.  She died instantly. Her funeral was hard to attend.  Everyone was crying and telling me that they were sorry, but I, I just sat there, listening to those who spoke speak and heard all of the wonderful things people had to say about her.  I didn’t cry, still haven’t cried, once about her death.  It’s not that I didn’t care and wasn’t, holy hell was I sad, I just had a different way of showing my sadness.  I didn’t show it in front of everyone.  I showed it behind closed doors, but I didn’t cry.  I got mad, real mad.  The day I found out I threw a vase across my bedroom and shattered my mirror on the wall.  Two weeks after I found myself punching my pillow thinking why? Why her?  Why my mother?  She didn’t deserve this!  while punching the wall.  Three months after the accident as I was going through old photo albums and I threw one across my living room as I saw a photo of her from when I was younger.  Now I just wonder why she had to have been the one to die and not someone else.  I pictured how my life would be today if she was still alive.  I pictured my life five years from now if she was still alive, bringing my children to her house to visit for the day.  It just wasn’t the same anymore. J

“I just wasn’t sure if I should’ve or not was all.” Jake stated interrupting my thoughts.

I exhale deeply and smile, “It’s alright. I made pickle roll ups last night just for you today.  Let’s go eat some.” I state with a smile.  Jake smiles back and goes inside.  

“How have you been?” Laurie asked me with a sad look on her face while touching my shoulder.

“Good.  Been having nightmares again but I can handle them,” I said trying to convince myself that they weren’t getting bad again.

“Ava, you need to get into therapy.  I worry about you, those nightmares aren’t good, please go and get something to set up to talk about them.”

“I was thinking about calling tomorrow.”

“Good.” Laurie smiles and walks inside.

Laurie has been visiting me almost everyday since my mother passed, even though I reassure her everytime that I’m fine and don’t need to be checked up on.  Although, I was glad that she visited me today.  

“So, was this nightmare the same as the other one’s?” Laurie asked while putting down her cup of coffee.

“Mostly, expect this time, I had it twice.”

Laurie stared at me, wide eyed, “Twice?  That hasn’t ever happened has it?”

“No, at least not that I can remember.  I thought I was doing really well too.  I hadn’t had one in almost a month and then I get two in one night, it makes no sense.”  Why was I having these nightmares again?  Was I worried that he was coming back?  Or was I just getting worked up again over nothing like the last time?

“Ava, don’t worry about it,” Laurie said while touching my forearm, “I’m sure you’re just having a little rough patch and the nightmare was a result.  I’m sure it means nothing, but maybe you should go talk to someone, it helped when they first started.  Maybe it’ll help again.”

Maybe she was right.  Maybe I did need to talk to someone again, but what if it did mean nothing?  Would going to talk to someone even be worth it? “You’re right.  I’ll call them tomorrow and try to set up a session with Dr. Fredrikson.  He seemed to be good the last time.”

Laurie smiled and went back to drinking her coffee.


© Copyright 2017 Stephani Maloney. All rights reserved.


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