The House of Doom

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Thrillers  |  House: Booksie Classic

A dream I had.

We were inside in a group: a couple of teenagers, a couple of leaders. Half of the group had an evenement, but I and my friend Precillia rather stayed home. Better we had to go along, we should have gone with them.

 

Father Nyarlathotep was somewhere, but we didn't visit him. There were also two boys Matze and Mira, whom later seemed to be a danger. We all went up with the elevator, it was a small elevator, big enough for two persons, so we went up 2 by 2, with only three black and white buttons. Up in the tower we stepped out of the elevator. When we were all up in the tower Matze and Mira drawed two guns and threatened us. I thought I would never escape this situation when Precillia came with the idea to quickly step in the elevator and go down. I quickly went in and had to go aside to make space for Precillia. I pressed the button 2, and quickly the elevator went over the streets and the view became a sort of black and white [instead of color]. I watched on the map and saw that the elevator went to 5: to the House of Doom ahead. Everything was fine to me as long I didn't had to see any guns anymore. We stepped out of the elevator. Then a little boy came toward us, I think he was six years old. He had brown hair and a cute little face.

 

"I am your son, Adams," he said. "If you want to escape, you have to take this tunnel," he pointed towards a tunnel ahead. I took my shag and started to roll a sigaret.

 

"Are you allowed to smoke?" asked the fattest of the two in German.

 

"I am past eightteen," I said.

 

"Rather thirty," laughed the German.

 

"Almost forty," I said. Then I saw the shotguns and saw also that they were pointed at us. Then they opened fire. We escaped the bullets and ran towards the tunnel, to safety. We ran and ran.

 

Then I woke up and looked in the green eyes of Nyarlathotep. The House of Doom had only been a dream...


Submitted: January 05, 2021

© Copyright 2021 Mad Prophetess 1981. All rights reserved.

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