Don't Blink, Don't Breathe

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Mystery and Crime  |  House: Booksie Classic


An excerpt from a bigger story I am writing.

Submitted: January 04, 2018

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Submitted: January 04, 2018

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“Shhh..” She whispers to her younger brother, who is trembling in fear. They are hiding in the wardrobe, holding onto each other in fear of being pulled away. They could hear his footsteps in the distance.

Thump, thump, thump.

A door could be heard creaking open. It was so near, they could hear the rising and falling of heavy, angry breathing.

Thump, thump-

It stopped. There was silence for what seemed like minutes before a shadow blocked the light that peaked ever so heavenly through the cleavage of the wardrobe doors. The sister frantically caressed her brother’s head comfortingly. She put her mouth to his ear and whispered,

“Get out.”

She pulled a lever, hidden behind a long brown trench coat, and watched as her brother was engulfed into the abyss of the trapdoor beneath him. He fell down and eventually hit a stone-cold floor. He heard the echoes of shouting and the piercing screams of his sibling and then dead silence.

Before him was nothing but a stone wall. He scanned around for exits, but there were only the same plain, grey walls. He palmed the surfaces of each gently. For a moment there was a rumble. Then silence. The rumbling came again. Then silence.

This time, the silence stayed. The boy crouched in the small area and lied on the floor. He cradled his knees and bawled quietly.

As he cried himself to sleep, a past vision of his mother appeared in his mind. This had been before she and his father were married. That night, she’d been cloaked in a long, beautiful red dress, wearing dark red lipstick, and had her long brunette hair curled. Her face piled in mascara and eyeshadow. He watched his happy mother walk gracefully over to the mirror and gaze at her gorgeous reflexion. The father came up behind her, gently running his hands through her long, brown hair, Her tanned skin seemed to shimmer barely in the dim light of the room. The boy wasn’t paying attention at the time about what they were talking about or where his mother was about to go. He looked around at the broken-down living room they lived in and the poorly painted walls, revealing fragments of chipped, green wallpaper underneath. His mother made her way over to him and bent over in her long gown. He hugged her and looked to his sister who seemed knowledgeable of what was happening. She turned her head in repugnance. He looked back to his mother. She kissed him and then lifted him into her arms. “I’ll be back tonight.” She kissed him again, then set him back on the floor. Leaving through the doorway, she called, “Be good, you two!”

Then she was gone. Father had left the room with a hand full of cash. And now that the boy had realized it, his mother had a long tear down both sides of her dress from her hip to the ground. A long, black line had been there along with nothing to cover her legs.

It had been hours, but mother still hadn’t come home. Only father remained in the house, still not coming to check on his own children. He didn’t even seemed worried about her when the boy asked him, “Pa, where’s mother?”

He’d only replied with, “She’s out.”

“Doing what?”

“Working.”

“Why is she working so late?”

“For extra money, kid. That’s what life’s about.”

 

The boy awoke in a cold sweat. He searched around only to see the bare walls again. Except this time, a little red light hovered in front of him. He stared at it wonderingly and watched as it came forth and touched against his forehead.

He saw his father again, who drunkenly wobbled over to the couch. He pushed the boy’s sister off the couch roughly and starting hitting her with the remote.

The red light hovered away from his head again then was strangely absorbed into the wall. It was like glass, the boy could see. He pulled it out, then hesitantly followed the light through a narrow crawl space. It led to another dead end with blank walls. But then he looked beneath him, which was another glass-like sheet. He found himself falling down the hole and hit something soft. The area was pitch black.

Father is going to come…

A voice whispered. The sound of it was feminine and bared a strange accent.

“Come forth.” the same voice, but louder, called.

A light flickered before him a few times before becoming stable.

A woman stood there in front of him. She was strange looking. White hair, pale skin, and red eyes. Her face was narrow and she had thick, white lips. The red light from before went to her and flew directly into her eye. It disappeared.

She was completely naked, but had no nipples and nothing but a blank surface where her middle area should’ve been. She pressed her finger to her bottom lip and examined the boy from distance. She came forward and walked in a circle around him. Saying nothing, she touch her ice cold hands to his face and smiled.

“Yes, I do believe ‘tis you.” She stood in a strange posture, almost hunching with her upper back but standing up with her lower. She touched her lip again and then turned back to where she was standing before.

“Where is your sister?” she asked expectantly. He didn’t answer.

“Where is your sister, Kazimir Vasiliev?”

He knew not how this strange woman before him knew his name, nor the fact that he had a sister.

“I-I don’t know, Misses.” he stuttered, bowing as if he assumed he was supposed to.

“Get up, child.” She spoke calmly, turning back towards him and offering him her hand.

“‘Tis natural you’d not know where your sister is. Why, Vorona’s been taken by your father. I cannot say that she is doing just fine because..” She stopped. Her voice trailed off as she looked off to the side.

“Because?”

“Well...because..because…Oh! Don’t mind. A child such as you shouldn’t hear such unsuitable things.”

The woman seemed ghostly as she awkwardly stumbled over to the ridged stone wall. She sat on a large pedestal and sighed, holding a glowing object in her hands.

“I suppose, in these situations, there’s really nothing a person can do.”

Kazimir stared at her questioningly. He stepped forward and few steps then stopped as if the lady on the rock would pounce on him any minute.

“Might I ask what your name is?”

She didn’t answer. She only stood once again and towered over him. She lifted a golden chain from her hand and wrapped it around his wrist.

Completely avoiding the subject, she patted his head and planted a small peck on his forehead. “I cannot explain to you what this chain means, you’re so young, but I know you will need it when- if- you ever find your sister again. When you do, call out the poem imprinted in one of the links of the chain. I cannot explain why, so please do not ask me any questions.” She finished and sat back down on the rock, fiddling with a bottle of dark violet liquid. It steamed, making spirals in the air as she spun it.

“You need to leave,” she whispered, “Father is coming…”

 

Running, and now speeding up. He’s following not far behind, outstretching his muscular arms to grab him. A tall, dark looming shadow towered over him as he ran. The only light that was in the long hallway of nothingness was the glowing eyes from the shadow.Steam flowed around it as it slid across the collapsing ground. Every second, the sound of static echoed in his ears. It grew louder, And every minute, he switched from short to tall.One second he was 9-years old, the next he was 12, next he was 14, then 16. The static kept growing louder until finally it turned into a high-pitched screeching sound. The ground caved in under him. As he was falling, he saw a blur of the hand reaching down the hole for him.

Black.

It’s too dark…

I can’t see…

Why can’t I see?

Ouch..my back hurts…

Why does it hurt?

Who am I again?

Where am I?

Where was I last?

There was a sharp pain in his back, like needles jabbing at his shoulder blades and spine. His legs were weak and felt as if he hadn’t used them in years. He couldn’t open his eyes at first, but slowly his eyelids pulled apart from each other and everything around him was blurry.


© Copyright 2018 Cloud J. Yankira. All rights reserved.

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