That Billowy Pillow Feeling

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

Another draft released of Like A Bloody Mess-Written from a new perspective, with the altering of the storyline; graphic and/or descriptive content

 

I was alone in the dim hallway, where death trod and misery lurked in the corners. My thin scrubs were stuck to my skin, which left a most unpleasant feeling. All over, up and down my arms, I felt as if I was being gnawed at continuously. This place was tundra, and I was stuck in the thick of it. I was almost completely alone.

Out of the brightest hallway to my right came a cry, followed by a moan, and then a piercing yelp. It sounded as if something had been trodden and trampled upon. I was frightened by the sound but with all my heart I yearned to find where it had originated. When I walked forward into the brightest hallway, the light overpowered me. I crumpled before the rays and shielded my eyes from the sun, while the moon lay behind me and the stars cackled above. With all my will and determination, I crawled towards the door from which the cry had emanated and grasped the handle.

I fell forward into the room, which gave a tremendous respite from the blinding light. I swiveled my weary eyes around to where the nursery adjoined with the other room. The little ones were crying, as they had done all week. However, there was an eerie sense to it all now that I was alone.

I crept into the sounds and immersed myself into contemplation. The cries were music to my ears, and an unnatural joy had overcome me. It was so unlike my calm, mild demeanor. Almost every aspect of this moment was perfect in the most sinister of senses. Then, without warning, the sick joy of the moment was shattered as a shrill, piercing cry issued from the corner. The air around me was silenced and the grounds shook. I turned around and started slowly forward.

The dying cry had emanated from a baby lying in one of the most comfy, soft, billowy beds we had ever allowed to give to our patients. However, the monster lying on it had riddled the fabric with stains that left it pus-like and sour-smelling. The child itself had a foot curled in by some strange happening. Lesions, burns and cuts were found on every inch on the rather delicate skin. Worst of all, the top of the scalp was not present; instead, the brain lay upon the sheets, exposed wide. The nose was pushed inward towards the cranium, and the eyes had practically merged into one.

All too soon, the cries all around had faltered; even the one coming from the devil’s spawn. The room grew dark, and was lit only by the flashing machines and panels around the room. My knees shook horribly and my back ached with a burning sensation. With my eyes fluttering and my mouth lolling open, I finally succumbed to the nightmare. The, just as it happened, the cries had come from my mouth. My body was distorted and burnt and shaken. I could feel no pain in the world anymore. Not even my scalp bothered me anymore.

I lay back on that soft, billowy bed sheet, where nothing could hurt me.


Submitted: April 15, 2015

© Copyright 2021 Dan Zuniga. All rights reserved.

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