The Call

Reads: 131  | Likes: 2  | Shelves: 0  | Comments: 7

More Details
Status: Finished  |  Genre: Horror  |  House: Booksie Classic
Cover Image: pixabay.com

Submitted: May 31, 2019

A A A | A A A

Submitted: May 31, 2019

A A A

A A A


The Call

I don’t remember where I was or what I was doing when the call came. It was not a phone call, an email, even someone knocking at my door; no, it was a feeling. That’s not a strong enough word to describe it – a compulsion, perhaps, one that would not be resisted.

Come home!”

There was no voice for it was not auditory. It was an invitation, an order made directly to my mind. Refusal was not an option but where was ‘home’; not where I was living, that’s for sure.

I’d find it. Something, some kind of force, was going to guide me there. All I had to do was to walk out of that door and let this mental GPS take control. If I did not pause, did not question where I was going, I would get there eventually.

And that’s what I did. I walked out of the house taking nothing with me. No jacket, no purse, no credit cards or ID. I did not get changed but went down the path in tracksuit and trainers, both well-worn but who cared.

I had to walk; that became clear very quickly. Transport of any kind seemed to interrupt the signal. I needed that homing beacon to be shining strong, pulsating out my directions. Turn left, walk for five miles, turn right. On and on it went, and in spite of the distance I kept a steady pace.

I’d no idea how far I’d walked. I left the house at noon and it was now pitch dark. Only the moon, small and silver, lit my way, kept me to the path. Where was I? Some place that I had never been to before, never even seen in pictures, I was sure, and yet this voice was ever more insistent that I was almost home.

I’d been walking up a driveway without realizing it until I turned a corner and the building came in to view. Even in the almost complete darkness I could tell it was semi-derelict, dilapidated, but I could not doubt that this was where I was meant to be.

Above the roof, one on either end, were the down-turned faces of two women that could have been my twin sisters if I had any. Huge faces, with hoods pulled up on their heads. I could see tears escaping from their down-cast eyes. Despair, despondency, and above all else, acceptance. That this was how it was meant to be, had always been so; it had all been a matter of time.

The skull was equally huge, appearing as it did in front of the door. It was that which had been guiding me, for it smiled a welcome. Was I afraid? I should have been, but I wasn’t. All I felt was resignation as I walked nearer and nearer, passed through it’s open mouth and in to the door.

It slammed behind me, shutting me inside. It did not matter. I’d not be leaving, not now, for I was indeed ‘home’. The darkness swirled around me, enveloping me in shadows, drowning any remnants of light, of dreams. They had no place here.

The darkest corner was where I would seek. There, right at the back of the room. My feet walked steadily over the splayed wings of dead crows, whose eyes seemed to blink in a kind of lifeless way. Spiders skittered behind me, ready to wrap me in their sticky cobweb cocoon. I sat in the corner, drew my knees up to form a resting place for my chin and I let them go to work, spinning those blackened strands until there was nothing left of me to see.

It might have been my imagination but at one time I was sure I heard a wailing from my doubles on the roof. Not from me though. I neither wept nor wailed, did not cry out in any kind of way. Why would I? Finally, I had found my home.


© Copyright 2019 hullabaloo22. All rights reserved.

Add Your Comments:

Comments

avatar

Author
Reply

avatar

Author
Reply

avatar

Author
Reply

avatar

Author
Reply

avatar

Author
Reply

avatar

Author
Reply

avatar

Author
Reply