White Hell

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Status: In Progress  |  Genre: Horror  |  House: Booksie Classic
What happens in our dreams may not be real but what if they're not dreams?

Submitted: April 13, 2017

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Submitted: April 13, 2017



Walking through the blue-green grass, his feet were getting wet from the dew on the lawn that spread over and down the hill that led to the small rickety pier. Wet footprints on sun bleached planks were the only record of proof the boy was ever there. He plopped down on the end and swung his skinny white legs over the edge, his toes two feet from the placid green surface of the water. The boy pulled his hook loose from a notch he had made in the dark ring joint of his cane pole and then reached for the coffee can of worms he brought down with him. He reached out but there was nothing there. His hand frantically patting a semi circle around the planks he sat on. Nothing. Nothing was there. The boy’s heart was racing. He couldn’t see the can of worms or the pier. The sun was beating down on him and he was getting hot. The boy reached up to remove his hat but it wasn’t there. Nothing. Nothing was there. He dropped his pole and it fell into the water making a small disappointing plop sound. He slapped his cheeks with both hands in shock but his hands only clapped each other. Nothing. There was nothing there. His head was gone! The boy silently screamed.


His ears rang with the sound of his own screams as he bolted upright in his sweat soaked bed. It was just a bad dream. His bedroom door opened quickly and the boy saw the comforting silhouette of his tall father standing there.

“Are you alright son?” he said.

Then he saw the figure of his wonderful mom squeeze between his dad and the door.

“Billy?” Billy! Oh my god! Where’s your head?!” she wailed.

Billy’s father stepped into the room and flipped the light on. The boy reached up to cover eyes that weren’t there. His mother and father were lizard people and they were coming for him. Their scaley green hands reaching out. His mother’s tongue wiping her own eye. The boy tucked into a ball and screamed as he felt their reptilian claws shake him.


The boy awoke staring into the most gorgeous blue eyes he had ever seen. They belonged, seemingly, to the naked blond girl currently straddling him in smelly college dorm room. Her eyes rolled back into their sockets and her hands released their grip slowly on his as the color drained from her face and she went limp. The door crashed in behind her and two large guys with bats stormed the room. He released his grip on her throat letting the new corps fall off of him. Savage screams filled his ears as the Louisville Sluggers crashed into his skull, crushing it like a rotten jack-o-lantern.  


White. Colorless. Savage screams. Nothing. Blinding pain. More screams and then nothing again.


“Okay, Folks. I think this was a good session. You may have to do a follow up in a day or two.” the doctor said. “Nurse, let’s keep him on 75 mg of Thorazine once a day for the next week. I’ll reevaluate in seven days. We may get lucky and the electroconvulsive therapy has done the job. If so, Bill’s a lucky guy." he finished and then walked out.


The boy spent an eternity bumping into white nothing with his hands outstretched in search of his head.

© Copyright 2018 R.Guy Barringer. All rights reserved.

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