The Cry of the Night

Reads: 57  | Likes: 0  | Shelves: 0  | Comments: 0

More Details
Status: Finished  |  Genre: Horror  |  House: Booksie Classic
a night of drinking takes a wrong turn with innocent little maren, a new adult who just wants love.

Submitted: June 07, 2019

A A A | A A A

Submitted: June 07, 2019

A A A

A A A


We stumble through the door, red wine slipping out of my glass and onto the cold hardwood floors. I feel the glass slide out of my hand and crash on the floor. I let out a small giggle. It looks so funny to see wine on the floor, it doesn’t belong there. Especially not surrounded by broken glass. I fall back onto Dave. The world dips and sways as he slides his hands around my waste. “Maren, you’re so drunk just calm down. You’re going to wake up the neighbors.” I look up at him and he looks so beautiful in the shadows. “You look great. Can I kiss you for a little while?” I say as I manage to heave myself from his hands and onto my feet. My head jerks to the left and I grab the railing on the stairs to steady myself.

“Maren, we need to get you to bed. C’mon now,” he says taking my free hand. “No, I want to kiss you. You look like one of those people from one of those magazines or something.” I press myself against him and try to kiss him, but I only manage to plant a firm kiss on his jaw as he pulls away.

“I’ll kiss you tomorrow, but you need to get to bed. Maren please, it’s late. It’s one-thirty in the morning.” He grabs my hands and squeezes, but not like he’s doing it lovingly. “That’s not late, it’s early silly,” I say touching the tip of his nose with my finger. He looks so beautiful.

“Maren, please. Forget it I’ll just carry you.” He bends down and squeezes my thighs and lifts me up, so I fall against his back. “No baby no. I don’t wanna go to bed. I don’t need to. I wanna stay here with your beautiful face. Please just let me kiss you,” I say, the words slurring together as if they were being mixed together.

“No Maren. I love you, and I’m doing this for you own good.” As he climbs the stairs, I notice that the air feels soft and good when I kick my feet, so I do. We bob up the stairs and Dave stops at my door to open it.

“You smell good too ‘ya know,” I say as he steps through the door. “Thanks,” he mumbles as he sets me down on the bed. “Go to sleep please Maren. I’ll stay with you tonight, but I’m gonna wait until you fall asleep before I go to bed. Ok?” He pulls the comforter over my chest until it’s at my collarbone. I can see the definite edges of his jawline and cheekbone in the moonlight. “Ok baby. I’ll see you in the morning. I still want that kiss from you tomorrow though,” I say making a pouty face. He smiles. “How about I give you one now, and one tomorrow,” he says leaning in. He places his forehead on mine and our noses line up together. “Ok..,” I say pressing my mouth to his.

He tastes like beer, with just a hint of mint. His lips are soft and warm and I don’t want to pull away. He finally releases me and gets up off the bed. “Goodnight baby, I love you,” he says when he reaches the door. “I love you too..,” I say closing my eyes. I hear the door squeak closed, and I am left to the darkness. I listen to my own heavy breathing until I finally manage to fall asleep.

 

A piercing shriek is what I awaken to. I sit bolt-upright with fear. Realizing it was only part of the end of my nightmare, I suppress a sigh. I look around the room, but there is only darkness and the vague silhouettes of my furniture there. I look to my right, and sure enough, Dave is on his side heavily asleep. I can hear his heavy breathing in the darkness. My head begins to pound, I knew I was going to be hungover, but my head had never hurt this badly before. I slide out from under the covers to go get some painkillers. I slip out into the hall, leaving the door open.

Thud.

I freeze. I can’t move. Maybe it was Dave falling off the bed? No, he couldn’t have rolled over, he doesn’t move in his sleep. It could have just been my cat somewhere in the house. That was it, what else could it be? I pray that it was the cat and slowly make the rest of the way into the bathroom.

I splash cold water on my face and meet my eyes in the mirror. My emerald eyes have a slight gold tint to it in the low light, and for a second I look beautiful. That is, until I notice my smeared eyeliner and mascara, and my ripped, wine-stained party dress. I don’t know why I wore this dress, I look awful in it. It comes down to a little less than half way down my thighs, and it bulges around my hips. The sleeves come down to about halfway down my upper arms, and it makes them look fatter than they already are.

I look around in my drawers for some extra clothes that I could have been too lazy to put away earlier. I find an old t-shirt and some baggy shorts stuffed in one of the drawers and I peel what was left of my dress off of my body. I put the pile of stained fabric in the trash and slipped on the new clothes.

The medicine cabinet in my bathroom is full of sleep-aids, Tylenol, and old prescriptions. I manage to find some ibuprofen crammed in the back and I take out two of the dull brown pills and shove them down my throat as quickly as possible. I don’t even bother with a glass of water.

I stick my face in the sink again and feel the cool water flow down the back of my head. I don’t care enough to clean off the rest of my hideously smeared makeup, so I go back to bed.

I open the door to my room and- wait, didn’t I leave it open? I freeze in place once again. Adrenaline is like a drug inside of me, coursing through my veins and causing me to freeze. I feel my heartrate begin to speed up as I slowly slip through the door.

Thud.

There it is again. Now I’m sure there is someone in my house. I swallow the lump in my throat and make my way to the bed, reaching for the nightstand where my phone is.

Thud.

It sounds and feel closer now, like it’s slowly making its way towards me, to drag me down into an unknown world. My head begins to pound, the painkillers proving to be ineffective. My head hurts like it never has before.

Thud.

Now it’s right outside my door, I’m sure of it. I am scared for my life, scared for what might happen next. I hold back my tears of fear as I push my shaky hand to the nightstand. I manage to find my phone and I grip my hands around the sides of the cool metal and hard plastic.

Thud.

I can’t take it anymore, I feel a few of the tears fall. I attempt to power my phone on, but it’s no use. It’s dead. I feel as if I’m in one of those cliché horror movies, and I now understand the people’s fear.

Thud.

This time I hear the door creep open behind me and I dive under the bed. Squirming so I’m in an unnoticeable position. I see a heap of limbs pile onto the floor in my room, blood swirling on and around it. I hold back a scream of pure terror. I can’t move. If I move I die. I feel more on tears roll down my face, and I think that I feel them roll down the back of my head too. I want to move, I need to move. I look around what part of my room I can see and look for something, anything, I can use as a weapon. I manage to spot and old wooden pole that we were supposed to hang up for a curtain rod ages ago. It’s just to my right, about five feet away. I let out a shaky breath, and I leap out from under the bed. I dive for the pole and whip around to meet the creature.

Thud.

I can’t make out any distinct figures in the darkness. All I can see is a pile of blood, flesh, and bones. I bring the pole up past my hand and bring my hands down so the pole sinks into the creature. I bring up my hands again, tears streaming down my face like individual rivers. I bring down my hands, then bring them up, and down, and up, and down, until it completely falls to the ground.

Thud.

I drop the pole to the ground. It’s fallen, it’s dead. I killed it. I look over to Dave and let more tears flow down my face. He is still asleep, on his side. I need to see what this creature is. I flick on the lights, and this time I do not suppress the scream. Sitting in a pool of blood on my floor, is Dave. His arms have been violently cut- no, ripped off at the elbows and there is a huge cut along his jaw, from ear to chin. I move my eyes up to his face and I scream once again. There are raw, empty pits where his eyes should be, and the chunk of flesh that his eyebrow was once on had been cut out.

He must have still been barely alive, but I finished off the job. I begin to sob, and I fall to the ground. Then, I suddenly stop. A grotesque thought of horror crosses my mind. The thought was like finding a body in the forest that had been hanged. If Dave was in shreds lying on the floor, who was in my bed sleeping with me?

I immediately pick up the pole and brace it out in front of me. Who the hell was in my bed?

“Hey!” I yell. “Whoever you are, get the hell out of my house. I don’t know what you did to my boyfriend, how you got into my house, or why and how you’re in my bed, but just get the hell out.” I make my way to the other side of my bed to see the figure on it. It’s a man, whose throat had been cut open. Other than that, he looked untouched. He had no hair, and he was wearing a long leather jacket. He had darker skin, and his eyes were still gaping open. I feel as if I had seen him before. Had he killed himself? If so, why?

I braced myself against the wall, petrified. Then I notice my laptop on my desk. How can I have been so stupid? I’ll just contact someone on there. I dash over to the computer, and immediately power it on. As it is loading I touch the back of my head, and it hurt. I pull my hand away, and I see deep, red, blood. I scream for what feels like the hundredth time tonight. That was why my head had hurt so badly, he must have tried to kill me, but he didn’t cut deep enough.

The computer finally loads and I immediately pull up messages and begin to text 911.

Please help me. I woke up and there was a man I didn’t know in my bed and my boyfriend was dead. Please come as soon as you can.

As I’m typing, I feel a hand close around my throat and I scream a cry of death. There was someone else in my house, I knew it. Why would the person in my bed kill himself? I know I’m going to die, and I scream once more.

“Child! Child! Calm yourself! It is only me!” I whip around and see my neighbor, Mrs. Mortem. “Mrs. Mortem? What are you doing here? How did you get in?” “Never mind that child! I heard a scream coming from next door and I wanted to see if you were all right! Why are there two dead men in your room? Why is there a gaping bloody hole in the back of your head?” She grabbed my shoulder and shook me just slightly. “I- I don’t know. I woke up and I found my boyfriend dead on the floor and a man I don’t know in my bed. My phone’s dead, to I’m contacting the police on my computer,” I let out a few shaky breaths. “Oh darling, it’s ok. You contact the police and me, I- I’ll just keep tight. Ok?” She released my shoulders. “Ok..,” I said as I turned back to the computer.

I continue to type, and I hear the sound of sharp metal coming from somewhere. “Oh, I’ll try to clean up this mess. Just keep typing darling,” exclaimed Mrs. Mortem. “Alright,” I said, typing faster.

Then I feel a sharp pain searing through my back. I scream, and blood escapes my throat. “I thought that I had made that cut in your head deep enough that it would keep you out ‘til morning. Guess not. Now, I just have to kill you. Which I just did,” said Mrs. Mortem slyly. I fall to the floor, the knife causing me to fall to my side. “I was going to blame you for the death of my husband, but you woke up. Oh well, as long as he’s dead…” So that’s where I had seen the man before, he was Mr. Mortem. I had seen him every day for the past year from my window, and yet…

“But,” I had to stop to cough up more blood, “why did you practically kill the only person I love,” I replied weakly. “Because dear,” she said wiping off my blood from her hands on her shirt, “He tried to protect you, and he got it the way. So I did what had to be done. Nothing more to it.” She stopped at the door. “It was nice knowing you,” and with that, she left.

I am dying. I’m dying for real this time. Not like that time when I fell off the top of the playground when I was a child, or when I had had my first hangover. I can feel my life slowly slipping away, it’s almost gone. I let more tears fall and I give on last cry into the night.


© Copyright 2019 trisprior57. All rights reserved.

Add Your Comments: