The Silent Terror

Reads: 160  | Likes: 0  | Shelves: 0  | Comments: 2

More Details
Status: Finished  |  Genre: Literary Fiction  |  House: Booksie Classic
It's halloween night and Michael has palns for the night. Mischief as usually but maybe this time he will be made pay for his unruly nature...in his silent terror!

Submitted: November 03, 2007

A A A | A A A

Submitted: November 03, 2007

A A A

A A A


THE SILENT TERROR
The leaves fell from the trees like dying souls, wrinkled, defeated by the forces of nature and lying, no longer green, on cold damp pavement being rustled up every so often by the moving footsteps of a passer-by. It was late autumn again and the time of year when everything in nature chooses to become dark before the white of Christmas. Yes, it was Halloween. But hey that stuff is only for kids anyway right? That was what Michael thought as he sat at home waiting for the call from the boys as to what was the plan for the night, probably a ghost tale or two, egg some old man's house and then finish off with a scary movie in somebody's house...something along those lines. He flicked through the music channels briefly watching clips from the latest videos on MTV, Kerrang and others alike while grunting responses to his mother's demands.
"Not too late now Michael! Do you hear me?"
"Yes mother" he mumbled back.
"And no fooling around with peoples property either, I don't want any of the neighbors complaining to me this year about your fool acting!...You're 16 now for God sake!"
"Yeah alright I get the picture no need to keep getting on my case!" he shouted back.
He got up, turning off the T.V., and started throwing his stuff into his rug sack for the night; things he thought would come in handy-a peaked cap, gloves, a mask, a torch, matches and some snacks. He had just flung on his faded denim jacket, the elbows torn and worn strings hanging from the sleeves, when his mobile rang from his pocket. He scooped it out pressing the green button.
"Hey man you ready for tonight?"
It was Dan. Everything was set up and ready to go, otherwise he wouldn't be calling.
"Yeah I've just packed my gear into my bag. So what we getting up to for the night?" Michael asked.
"Eh well we're going to start off with some dares in the old graveyard"
"The graveyard?"
"Yeah the graveyard! Ah come on don't tell me your scared? ha ha!"
"No I ain't scared Dan, why would I be!"
"Good me and the boys will see you there at 9 O'clock sharp in that case"
The phone line went dead, Michael slipped it back into his pocket, bent down and tucked his shoe laces into the side of his aged white runners. It was half eight already, time to go! He flung the bag strap over his shoulder, his black guns n' roses t-shirt showing through the unbuttoned jacket as he slammed the front door shut and walked out into the cold night air. The wind bustled through the front lawn hedge as the last light faded into the sea of black cloud in the sky. The graveyard was fairly close by, tales had always surrounded the old place; stories of life amongst the dead, a restlessness in a still place. Rain began to fall lightly on his brown wavy hair as he walked against the wind, he grabbed the red peaked cap from his bag, pulled it down till it touched his dark brow- it had the words NO FEAR wrote across the front. He walked briskly turning the corner for the shortcut to the graveyard, a rook landed on the road sign to his left-DEAD END. This game of dares could really turn into trouble for him and he knew this walking down to the end of the road to hop the old stone wall into the field beside the grave yard. He could see the group now sitting down, laughing and joking under a tree with a fire burning beside them and entering he noticed that the old entrance gate had been kicked in and he walked by smirking, wondering which of the group done it? He wandered over sitting down to take his place amongst the sweat and smoke.
"Right boys lets get the dare game underway, you can go first Michael since you were last here!" Dan sneered.
"OK then what's my dare in that case Dan?!" Michael answered.
"Ha you're not going to like this one man but we all agreed on it so it's you're tough luck for being last here. Here it is- you have to go into the old tomb and write something on the on the entrance doors to where the body is buried using this spray can."
"Aww man your not serious?!...Fine so I'll do it!"
Michael rose to his feet snatching the green spray can from Dan's hand and heading down the center of the grounds towards the dreaded tomb. He passed bare, gray stone stood in line one after the other, the names of the fallen worn away from the test of time or concealed by the growing moss. As he walked his senses sharpened and he could hear the sound of busy mice, the fiddling of nervous birds and all greeted by the relentless cry of a lonely wolf which sent a cold shiver down his spine!The old, battered tomb stood brave against the still of the night and as he stood at the entrance he felt like a mere ant compared to the the enormity of the ancient structure. He pulled back the damp cobwebs of the entrance and stepped inside. His first step, he wished it was his last.
It was dark inside, no light at all. He took the torch from his rug sack and flicked on the switch. It seemed as if he was now in a different realm...there was nothing but silence, no laughter from the group, no birds or mice, no anything only the resounding echo with each step he took on the bare cement ground. The corridor leading to the resting chamber was narrow and about one hundred meters in distance, a measurement which in his mind he knew was only a short distance but in the loneliness of the tomb it seemed to stretch on and on. He walked slowly along turning back and shining the torch with every step behind him making sure nothing was following him. Cobwebs hung from the corners, drooping down and touching the top of his hat with every step. The air had a foul stench about it, it seemed flat, lifeless! There was cracks all around the tomb and a powder-like dust on the floor that made a sound similar to rubbing sandpaper under the movement of his runners. He quickened his pace as he realized he was just about half way there. Then he heard something. He stopped and listened...only to be met by silence, he sighed. He took another step...there it was again! It was like a pounding of a drum or feet! Boom...Boom! It was loud and clear now there was a thumping sound...footsteps following his every move! He started to jog as his heart raced in his chest and the footsteps became louder and quicker in his ears. Boom, Boom, Boom, Boom, Boom! One after the other, but it was a lifeless thud, no echo like Michael's steps; just a dulling pound on the bare floor...then just as he reached the chamber doors it stopped. There was only stillness.
Michael laughed out loud.
"Ha those bastards...I can't believe they got me like that...they must be jumping on the ground above me!Ha ha!" he gasped
He took out the green spray can and began to write his name on the chamber doors. He dreaded the thought of having to face the group after they managed to scare him so badly. He had just finished the letter M. Now I-C-...he watched and admired his spray work. He began to spray again...the green spluttered out...pausing and struggling to form a continuous stream...then red splashed out all over...his eyes widened in horror as the red gushed from the can...it was blood! The red blotch began to form letters on the wall...H-E-L-L...the green disappeared and the letters stood dripping from the wall, running down to the floor. Then Boom!The pounding returned loud as ever in his ears...boom! Boom! Boom! Boom! Boom!...He dropped the can and sprinted back up the route he had taken, the pounding footsteps almost right behind him. His shoe laces became loose. He tripped, his hat coming off his head, falling hard to the ground. He looked up. His vision blurred. His eyes began to focus. A dark figure formed in front of the torch light. He looked up seeing an old, withered man, a long silver dagger gripped in his hand. Then he disappeared. Michael got up and sprinted out of the tomb. He told the guys outside and they laughed at him saying that the image of the old man was obviously because of his fall and he laughed uncomfortably with them yet knowing in his heart that what he says was real!
That night Michael tossed and turned in his bed unable to get the image of the old man out of his head. A storm raged outside. He got up and turned on the light. The words NO FEAR? were smeared on his wall in blood!There was a flash of lightning. The Lights went out. Lightning flashed again. The room was a glowing gray. He felt a cold hiss of expelled breath upon his neck. He knew it was too late to scream....
THE SILENT TERROR
The leaves fell from the trees like dying souls, wrinkled, defeated by the forces of nature and lying, no longer green, on cold damp pavement being rustled up every so often by the moving footsteps of a passer-by. It was late autumn again and the time of year when everything in nature chooses to become dark before the white of Christmas. Yes, it was Halloween. But hey that stuff is only for kids anyway right? That was what Michael thought as he sat at home waiting for the call from the boys as to what was the plan for the night, probably a ghost tale or two, egg some old man's house and then finish off with a scary movie in somebody's house...something along those lines. He flicked through the music channels briefly watching clips from the latest videos on MTV, Kerrang and others alike while grunting responses to his mother's demands.
"Not too late now Michael! Do you hear me?"
"Yes mother" he mumbled back.
"And no fooling around with peoples property either, I don't want any of the neighbors complaining to me this year about your fool acting!...You're 16 now for God sake!"
"Yeah alright I get the picture no need to keep getting on my case!" he shouted back.
He got up, turning off the T.V., and started throwing his stuff into his rug sack for the night; things he thought would come in handy-a peaked cap, gloves, a mask, a torch, matches and some snacks. He had just flung on his faded denim jacket, the elbows torn and worn strings hanging from the sleeves, when his mobile rang from his pocket. He scooped it out pressing the green button.
"Hey man you ready for tonight?"
It was Dan. Everything was set up and ready to go, otherwise he wouldn't be calling.
"Yeah I've just packed my gear into my bag. So what we getting up to for the night?" Michael asked.
"Eh well we're going to start off with some dares in the old graveyard"
"The graveyard?"
"Yeah the graveyard! Ah come on don't tell me your scared? ha ha!"
"No I ain't scared Dan, why would I be!"
"Good me and the boys will see you there at 9 O'clock sharp in that case"
The phone line went dead, Michael slipped it back into his pocket, bent down and tucked his shoe laces into the side of his aged white runners. It was half eight already, time to go! He flung the bag strap over his shoulder, his black guns n' roses t-shirt showing through the unbuttoned jacket as he slammed the front door shut and walked out into the cold night air. The wind bustled through the front lawn hedge as the last light faded into the sea of black cloud in the sky. The graveyard was fairly close by, tales had always surrounded the old place; stories of life amongst the dead, a restlessness in a still place. Rain began to fall lightly on his brown wavy hair as he walked against the wind, he grabbed the red peaked cap from his bag, pulled it down till it touched his dark brow- it had the words NO FEAR wrote across the front. He walked briskly turning the corner for the shortcut to the graveyard, a rook landed on the road sign to his left-DEAD END. This game of dares could really turn into trouble for him and he knew this walking down to the end of the road to hop the old stone wall into the field beside the grave yard. He could see the group now sitting down, laughing and joking under a tree with a fire burning beside them and entering he noticed that the old entrance gate had been kicked in and he walked by smirking, wondering which of the group done it? He wandered over sitting down to take his place amongst the sweat and smoke.
"Right boys lets get the dare game underway, you can go first Michael since you were last here!" Dan sneered.
"OK then what's my dare in that case Dan?!" Michael answered.
"Ha you're not going to like this one man but we all agreed on it so it's you're tough luck for being last here. Here it is- you have to go into the old tomb and write something on the on the entrance doors to where the body is buried using this spray can."
"Aww man your not serious?!...Fine so I'll do it!"
Michael rose to his feet snatching the green spray can from Dan's hand and heading down the center of the grounds towards the dreaded tomb. He passed bare, gray stone stood in line one after the other, the names of the fallen worn away from the test of time or concealed by the growing moss. As he walked his senses sharpened and he could hear the sound of busy mice, the fiddling of nervous birds and all greeted by the relentless cry of a lonely wolf which sent a cold shiver down his spine!The old, battered tomb stood brave against the still of the night and as he stood at the entrance he felt like a mere ant compared to the the enormity of the ancient structure. He pulled back the damp cobwebs of the entrance and stepped inside. His first step, he wished it was his last.
It was dark inside, no light at all. He took the torch from his rug sack and flicked on the switch. It seemed as if he was now in a different realm...there was nothing but silence, no laughter from the group, no birds or mice, no anything only the resounding echo with each step he took on the bare cement ground. The corridor leading to the resting chamber was narrow and about one hundred meters in distance, a measurement which in his mind he knew was only a short distance but in the loneliness of the tomb it seemed to stretch on and on. He walked slowly along turning back and shining the torch with every step behind him making sure nothing was following him. Cobwebs hung from the corners, drooping down and touching the top of his hat with every step. The air had a foul stench about it, it seemed flat, lifeless! There was cracks all around the tomb and a powder-like dust on the floor that made a sound similar to rubbing sandpaper under the movement of his runners. He quickened his pace as he realized he was just about half way there. Then he heard something. He stopped and listened...only to be met by silence, he sighed. He took another step...there it was again! It was like a pounding of a drum or feet! Boom...Boom! It was loud and clear now there was a thumping sound...footsteps following his every move! He started to jog as his heart raced in his chest and the footsteps became louder and quicker in his ears. Boom, Boom, Boom, Boom, Boom! One after the other, but it was a lifeless thud, no echo like Michael's steps; just a dulling pound on the bare floor...then just as he reached the chamber doors it stopped. There was only stillness.
Michael laughed out loud.
"Ha those bastards...I can't believe they got me like that...they must be jumping on the ground above me!Ha ha!" he gasped
He took out the green spray can and began to write his name on the chamber doors. He dreaded the thought of having to face the group after they managed to scare him so badly. He had just finished the letter M. Now I-C-...he watched and admired his spray work. He began to spray again...the green spluttered out...pausing and struggling to form a continuous stream...then red splashed out all over...his eyes widened in horror as the red gushed from the can...it was blood! The red blotch began to form letters on the wall...H-E-L-L...the green disappeared and the letters stood dripping from the wall, running down to the floor. Then Boom!The pounding returned loud as ever in his ears...boom! Boom! Boom! Boom! Boom!...He dropped the can and sprinted back up the route he had taken, the pounding footsteps almost right behind him. His shoe laces became loose. He tripped, his hat coming off his head, falling hard to the ground. He looked up. His vision blurred. His eyes began to focus. A dark figure formed in front of the torch light. He looked up seeing an old, withered man, a long silver dagger gripped in his hand. Then he disappeared. Michael got up and sprinted out of the tomb. He told the guys outside and they laughed at him saying that the image of the old man was obviously because of his fall and he laughed uncomfortably with them yet knowing in his heart that what he says was real!
That night Michael tossed and turned in his bed unable to get the image of the old man out of his head. A storm raged outside. He got up and turned on the light. The words NO FEAR? were smeared on his wall in blood!There was a flash of lightning. The Lights went out. Lightning flashed again. The room was a glowing gray. He felt a cold hiss of expelled breath upon his neck. He knew it was too late to scream....
THE SILENT TERROR
The leaves fell from the trees like dying souls, wrinkled, defeated by the forces of nature and lying, no longer green, on cold damp pavement being rustled up every so often by the moving footsteps of a passer-by. It was late autumn again and the time of year when everything in nature chooses to become dark before the white of Christmas. Yes, it was Halloween. But hey that stuff is only for kids anyway right? That was what Michael thought as he sat at home waiting for the call from the boys as to what was the plan for the night, probably a ghost tale or two, egg some old man's house and then finish off with a scary movie in somebody's house...something along those lines. He flicked through the music channels briefly watching clips from the latest videos on MTV, Kerrang and others alike while grunting responses to his mother's demands.
"Not too late now Michael! Do you hear me?"
"Yes mother" he mumbled back.
"And no fooling around with peoples property either, I don't want any of the neighbors complaining to me this year about your fool acting!...You're 16 now for God sake!"
"Yeah alright I get the picture no need to keep getting on my case!" he shouted back.
He got up, turning off the T.V., and started throwing his stuff into his rug sack for the night; things he thought would come in handy-a peaked cap, gloves, a mask, a torch, matches and some snacks. He had just flung on his faded denim jacket, the elbows torn and worn strings hanging from the sleeves, when his mobile rang from his pocket. He scooped it out pressing the green button.
"Hey man you ready for tonight?"
It was Dan. Everything was set up and ready to go, otherwise he wouldn't be calling.
"Yeah I've just packed my gear into my bag. So what we getting up to for the night?" Michael asked.
"Eh well we're going to start off with some dares in the old graveyard"
"The graveyard?"
"Yeah the graveyard! Ah come on don't tell me your scared? ha ha!"
"No I ain't scared Dan, why would I be!"
"Good me and the boys will see you there at 9 O'clock sharp in that case"
The phone line went dead, Michael slipped it back into his pocket, bent down and tucked his shoe laces into the side of his aged white runners. It was half eight already, time to go! He flung the bag strap over his shoulder, his black guns n' roses t-shirt showing through the unbuttoned jacket as he slammed the front door shut and walked out into the cold night air. The wind bustled through the front lawn hedge as the last light faded into the sea of black cloud in the sky. The graveyard was fairly close by, tales had always surrounded the old place; stories of life amongst the dead, a restlessness in a still place. Rain began to fall lightly on his brown wavy hair as he walked against the wind, he grabbed the red peaked cap from his bag, pulled it down till it touched his dark brow- it had the words NO FEAR wrote across the front. He walked briskly turning the corner for the shortcut to the graveyard, a rook landed on the road sign to his left-DEAD END. This game of dares could really turn into trouble for him and he knew this walking down to the end of the road to hop the old stone wall into the field beside the grave yard. He could see the group now sitting down, laughing and joking under a tree with a fire burning beside them and entering he noticed that the old entrance gate had been kicked in and he walked by smirking, wondering which of the group done it? He wandered over sitting down to take his place amongst the sweat and smoke.
"Right boys lets get the dare game underway, you can go first Michael since you were last here!" Dan sneered.
"OK then what's my dare in that case Dan?!" Michael answered.
"Ha you're not going to like this one man but we all agreed on it so it's you're tough luck for being last here. Here it is- you have to go into the old tomb and write something on the on the entrance doors to where the body is buried using this spray can."
"Aww man your not serious?!...Fine so I'll do it!"
Michael rose to his feet snatching the green spray can from Dan's hand and heading down the center of the grounds towards the dreaded tomb. He passed bare, gray stone stood in line one after the other, the names of the fallen worn away from the test of time or concealed by the growing moss. As he walked his senses sharpened and he could hear the sound of busy mice, the fiddling of nervous birds and all greeted by the relentless cry of a lonely wolf which sent a cold shiver down his spine!The old, battered tomb stood brave against the still of the night and as he stood at the entrance he felt like a mere ant compared to the the enormity of the ancient structure. He pulled back the damp cobwebs of the entrance and stepped inside. His first step, he wished it was his last.
It was dark inside, no light at all. He took the torch from his rug sack and flicked on the switch. It seemed as if he was now in a different realm...there was nothing but silence, no laughter from the group, no birds or mice, no anything only the resounding echo with each step he took on the bare cement ground. The corridor leading to the resting chamber was narrow and about one hundred meters in distance, a measurement which in his mind he knew was only a short distance but in the loneliness of the tomb it seemed to stretch on and on. He walked slowly along turning back and shining the torch with every step behind him making sure nothing was following him. Cobwebs hung from the corners, drooping down and touching the top of his hat with every step. The air had a foul stench about it, it seemed flat, lifeless! There was cracks all around the tomb and a powder-like dust on the floor that made a sound similar to rubbing sandpaper under the movement of his runners. He quickened his pace as he realized he was just about half way there. Then he heard something. He stopped and listened...only to be met by silence, he sighed. He took another step...there it was again! It was like a pounding of a drum or feet! Boom...Boom! It was loud and clear now there was a thumping sound...footsteps following his every move! He started to jog as his heart raced in his chest and the footsteps became louder and quicker in his ears. Boom, Boom, Boom, Boom, Boom! One after the other, but it was a lifeless thud, no echo like Michael's steps; just a dulling pound on the bare floor...then just as he reached the chamber doors it stopped. There was only stillness.
Michael laughed out loud.
"Ha those bastards...I can't believe they got me like that...they must be jumping on the ground above me!Ha ha!" he gasped
He took out the green spray can and began to write his name on the chamber doors. He dreaded the thought of having to face the group after they managed to scare him so badly. He had just finished the letter M. Now I-C-...he watched and admired his spray work. He began to spray again...the green spluttered out...pausing and struggling to form a continuous stream...then red splashed out all over...his eyes widened in horror as the red gushed from the can...it was blood! The red blotch began to form letters on the wall...H-E-L-L...the green disappeared and the letters stood dripping from the wall, running down to the floor. Then Boom!The pounding returned loud as ever in his ears...boom! Boom! Boom! Boom! Boom!...He dropped the can and sprinted back up the route he had taken, the pounding footsteps almost right behind him. His shoe laces became loose. He tripped, his hat coming off his head, falling hard to the ground. He looked up. His vision blurred. His eyes began to focus. A dark figure formed in front of the torch light. He looked up seeing an old, withered man, a long silver dagger gripped in his hand. Then he disappeared. Michael got up and sprinted out of the tomb. He told the guys outside and they laughed at him saying that the image of the old man was obviously because of his fall and he laughed uncomfortably with them yet knowing in his heart that what he says was real!
That night Michael tossed and turned in his bed unable to get the image of the old man out of his head. A storm raged outside. He got up and turned on the light. The words NO FEAR? were smeared on his wall in blood!There was a flash of lightning. The Lights went out. Lightning flashed again. The room was a glowing gray. He felt a cold hiss of expelled breath upon his neck. He knew it was too late to scream....
THE SILENT TERROR
The leaves fell from the trees like dying souls, wrinkled, defeated by the forces of nature and lying, no longer green, on cold damp pavement being rustled up every so often by the moving footsteps of a passer-by. It was late autumn again and the time of year when everything in nature chooses to become dark before the white of Christmas. Yes, it was Halloween. But hey that stuff is only for kids anyway right? That was what Michael thought as he sat at home waiting for the call from the boys as to what was the plan for the night, probably a ghost tale or two, egg some old man's house and then finish off with a scary movie in somebody's house...something along those lines. He flicked through the music channels briefly watching clips from the latest videos on MTV, Kerrang and others alike while grunting responses to his mother's demands.
"Not too late now Michael! Do you hear me?"
"Yes mother" he mumbled back.
"And no fooling around with peoples property either, I don't want any of the neighbors complaining to me this year about your fool acting!...You're 16 now for God sake!"
"Yeah alright I get the picture no need to keep getting on my case!" he shouted back.
He got up, turning off the T.V., and started throwing his stuff into his rug sack for the night; things he thought would come in handy-a peaked cap, gloves, a mask, a torch, matches and some snacks. He had just flung on his faded denim jacket, the elbows torn and worn strings hanging from the sleeves, when his mobile rang from his pocket. He scooped it out pressing the green button.
"Hey man you ready for tonight?"
It was Dan. Everything was set up and ready to go, otherwise he wouldn't be calling.
"Yeah I've just packed my gear into my bag. So what we getting up to for the night?" Michael asked.
"Eh well we're going to start off with some dares in the old graveyard"
"The graveyard?"
"Yeah the graveyard! Ah come on don't tell me your scared? ha ha!"
"No I ain't scared Dan, why would I be!"
"Good me and the boys will see you there at 9 O'clock sharp in that case"
The phone line went dead, Michael slipped it back into his pocket, bent down and tucked his shoe laces into the side of his aged white runners. It was half eight already, time to go! He flung the bag strap over his shoulder, his black guns n' roses t-shirt showing through the unbuttoned jacket as he slammed the front door shut and walked out into the cold night air. The wind bustled through the front lawn hedge as the last light faded into the sea of black cloud in the sky. The graveyard was fairly close by, tales had always surrounded the old place; stories of life amongst the dead, a restlessness in a still place. Rain began to fall lightly on his brown wavy hair as he walked against the wind, he grabbed the red peaked cap from his bag, pulled it down till it touched his dark brow- it had the words NO FEAR wrote across the front. He walked briskly turning the corner for the shortcut to the graveyard, a rook landed on the road sign to his left-DEAD END. This game of dares could really turn into trouble for him and he knew this walking down to the end of the road to hop the old stone wall into the field beside the grave yard. He could see the group now sitting down, laughing and joking under a tree with a fire burning beside them and entering he noticed that the old entrance gate had been kicked in and he walked by smirking, wondering which of the group done it? He wandered over sitting down to take his place amongst the sweat and smoke.
"Right boys lets get the dare game underway, you can go first Michael since you were last here!" Dan sneered.
"OK then what's my dare in that case Dan?!" Michael answered.
"Ha you're not going to like this one man but we all agreed on it so it's you're tough luck for being last here. Here it is- you have to go into the old tomb and write something on the on the entrance doors to where the body is buried using this spray can."
"Aww man your not serious?!...Fine so I'll do it!"
Michael rose to his feet snatching the green spray can from Dan's hand and heading down the center of the grounds towards the dreaded tomb. He passed bare, gray stone stood in line one after the other, the names of the fallen worn away from the test of time or concealed by the growing moss. As he walked his senses sharpened and he could hear the sound of busy mice, the fiddling of nervous birds and all greeted by the relentless cry of a lonely wolf which sent a cold shiver down his spine!The old, battered tomb stood brave against the still of the night and as he stood at the entrance he felt like a mere ant compared to the the enormity of the ancient structure. He pulled back the damp cobwebs of the entrance and stepped inside. His first step, he wished it was his last.
It was dark inside, no light at all. He took the torch from his rug sack and flicked on the switch. It seemed as if he was now in a different realm...there was nothing but silence, no laughter from the group, no birds or mice, no anything only the resounding echo with each step he took on the bare cement ground. The corridor leading to the resting chamber was narrow and about one hundred meters in distance, a measurement which in his mind he knew was only a short distance but in the loneliness of the tomb it seemed to stretch on and on. He walked slowly along turning back and shining the torch with every step behind him making sure nothing was following him. Cobwebs hung from the corners, drooping down and touching the top of his hat with every step. The air had a foul stench about it, it seemed flat, lifeless! There was cracks all around the tomb and a powder-like dust on the floor that made a sound similar to rubbing sandpaper under the movement of his runners. He quickened his pace as he realized he was just about half way there. Then he heard something. He stopped and listened...only to be met by silence, he sighed. He took another step...there it was again! It was like a pounding of a drum or feet! Boom...Boom! It was loud and clear now there was a thumping sound...footsteps following his every move! He started to jog as his heart raced in his chest and the footsteps became louder and quicker in his ears. Boom, Boom, Boom, Boom, Boom! One after the other, but it was a lifeless thud, no echo like Michael's steps; just a dulling pound on the bare floor...then just as he reached the chamber doors it stopped. There was only stillness.
Michael laughed out loud.
"Ha those bastards...I can't believe they got me like that...they must be jumping on the ground above me!Ha ha!" he gasped
He took out the green spray can and began to write his name on the chamber doors. He dreaded the thought of having to face the group after they managed to scare him so badly. He had just finished the letter M. Now I-C-...he watched and admired his spray work. He began to spray again...the green spluttered out...pausing and struggling to form a continuous stream...then red splashed out all over...his eyes widened in horror as the red gushed from the can...it was blood! The red blotch began to form letters on the wall...H-E-L-L...the green disappeared and the letters stood dripping from the wall, running down to the floor. Then Boom!The pounding returned loud as ever in his ears...boom! Boom! Boom! Boom! Boom!...He dropped the can and sprinted back up the route he had taken, the pounding footsteps almost right behind him. His shoe laces became loose. He tripped, his hat coming off his head, falling hard to the ground. He looked up. His vision blurred. His eyes began to focus. A dark figure formed in front of the torch light. He looked up seeing an old, withered man, a long silver dagger gripped in his hand. Then he disappeared. Michael got up and sprinted out of the tomb. He told the guys outside and they laughed at him saying that the image of the old man was obviously because of his fall and he laughed uncomfortably with them yet knowing in his heart that what he says was real!
That night Michael tossed and turned in his bed unable to get the image of the old man out of his head. A storm raged outside. He got up and turned on the light. The words NO FEAR? were smeared on his wall in blood!There was a flash of lightning. The Lights went out. Lightning flashed again. The room was a glowing gray. He felt a cold hiss of expelled breath upon his neck. He knew it was too late to scream....
THE SILENT TERROR
The leaves fell from the trees like dying souls, wrinkled, defeated by the forces of nature and lying, no longer green, on cold damp pavement being rustled up every so often by the moving footsteps of a passer-by. It was late autumn again and the time of year when everything in nature chooses to become dark before the white of Christmas. Yes, it was Halloween. But hey that stuff is only for kids anyway right? That was what Michael thought as he sat at home waiting for the call from the boys as to what was the plan for the night, probably a ghost tale or two, egg some old man's house and then finish off with a scary movie in somebody's house...something along those lines. He flicked through the music channels briefly watching clips from the latest videos on MTV, Kerrang and others alike while grunting responses to his mother's demands.
"Not too late now Michael! Do you hear me?"
"Yes mother" he mumbled back.
"And no fooling around with peoples property either, I don't want any of the neighbors complaining to me this year about your fool acting!...You're 16 now for God sake!"
"Yeah alright I get the picture no need to keep getting on my case!" he shouted back.
He got up, turning off the T.V., and started throwing his stuff into his rug sack for the night; things he thought would come in handy-a peaked cap, gloves, a mask, a torch, matches and some snacks. He had just flung on his faded denim jacket, the elbows torn and worn strings hanging from the sleeves, when his mobile rang from his pocket. He scooped it out pressing the green button.
"Hey man you ready for tonight?"
It was Dan. Everything was set up and ready to go, otherwise he wouldn't be calling.
"Yeah I've just packed my gear into my bag. So what we getting up to for the night?" Michael asked.
"Eh well we're going to start off with some dares in the old graveyard"
"The graveyard?"
"Yeah the graveyard! Ah come on don't tell me your scared? ha ha!"
"No I ain't scared Dan, why would I be!"
"Good me and the boys will see you there at 9 O'clock sharp in that case"
The phone line went dead, Michael slipped it back into his pocket, bent down and tucked his shoe laces into the side of his aged white runners. It was half eight already, time to go! He flung the bag strap over his shoulder, his black guns n' roses t-shirt showing through the unbuttoned jacket as he slammed the front door shut and walked out into the cold night air. The wind bustled through the front lawn hedge as the last light faded into the sea of black cloud in the sky. The graveyard was fairly close by, tales had always surrounded the old place; stories of life amongst the dead, a restlessness in a still place. Rain began to fall lightly on his brown wavy hair as he walked against the wind, he grabbed the red peaked cap from his bag, pulled it down till it touched his dark brow- it had the words NO FEAR wrote across the front. He walked briskly turning the corner for the shortcut to the graveyard, a rook landed on the road sign to his left-DEAD END. This game of dares could really turn into trouble for him and he knew this walking down to the end of the road to hop the old stone wall into the field beside the grave yard. He could see the group now sitting down, laughing and joking under a tree with a fire burning beside them and entering he noticed that the old entrance gate had been kicked in and he walked by smirking, wondering which of the group done it? He wandered over sitting down to take his place amongst the sweat and smoke.
"Right boys lets get the dare game underway, you can go first Michael since you were last here!" Dan sneered.
"OK then what's my dare in that case Dan?!" Michael answered.
"Ha you're not going to like this one man but we all agreed on it so it's you're tough luck for being last here. Here it is- you have to go into the old tomb and write something on the on the entrance doors to where the body is buried using this spray can."
"Aww man your not serious?!...Fine so I'll do it!"
Michael rose to his feet snatching the green spray can from Dan's hand and heading down the center of the grounds towards the dreaded tomb. He passed bare, gray stone stood in line one after the other, the names of the fallen worn away from the test of time or concealed by the growing moss. As he walked his senses sharpened and he could hear the sound of busy mice, the fiddling of nervous birds and all greeted by the relentless cry of a lonely wolf which sent a cold shiver down his spine!The old, battered tomb stood brave against the still of the night and as he stood at the entrance he felt like a mere ant compared to the the enormity of the ancient structure. He pulled back the damp cobwebs of the entrance and stepped inside. His first step, he wished it was his last.
It was dark inside, no light at all. He took the torch from his rug sack and flicked on the switch. It seemed as if he was now in a different realm...there was nothing but silence, no laughter from the group, no birds or mice, no anything only the resounding echo with each step he took on the bare cement ground. The corridor leading to the resting chamber was narrow and about one hundred meters in distance, a measurement which in his mind he knew was only a short distance but in the loneliness of the tomb it seemed to stretch on and on. He walked slowly along turning back and shining the torch with every step behind him making sure nothing was following him. Cobwebs hung from the corners, drooping down and touching the top of his hat with every step. The air had a foul stench about it, it seemed flat, lifeless! There was cracks all around the tomb and a powder-like dust on the floor that made a sound similar to rubbing sandpaper under the movement of his runners. He quickened his pace as he realized he was just about half way there. Then he heard something. He stopped and listened...only to be met by silence, he sighed. He took another step...there it was again! It was like a pounding of a drum or feet! Boom...Boom! It was loud and clear now there was a thumping sound...footsteps following his every move! He started to jog as his heart raced in his chest and the footsteps became louder and quicker in his ears. Boom, Boom, Boom, Boom, Boom! One after the other, but it was a lifeless thud, no echo like Michael's steps; just a dulling pound on the bare floor...then just as he reached the chamber doors it stopped. There was only stillness.
Michael laughed out loud.
"Ha those bastards...I can't believe they got me like that...they must be jumping on the ground above me!Ha ha!" he gasped
He took out the green spray can and began to write his name on the chamber doors. He dreaded the thought of having to face the group after they managed to scare him so badly. He had just finished the letter M. Now I-C-...he watched and admired his spray work. He began to spray again...the green spluttered out...pausing and struggling to form a continuous stream...then red splashed out all over...his eyes widened in horror as the red gushed from the can...it was blood! The red blotch began to form letters on the wall...H-E-L-L...the green disappeared and the letters stood dripping from the wall, running down to the floor. Then Boom!The pounding returned loud as ever in his ears...boom! Boom! Boom! Boom! Boom!...He dropped the can and sprinted back up the route he had taken, the pounding footsteps almost right behind him. His shoe laces became loose. He tripped, his hat coming off his head, falling hard to the ground. He looked up. His vision blurred. His eyes began to focus. A dark figure formed in front of the torch light. He looked up seeing an old, withered man, a long silver dagger gripped in his hand. Then he disappeared. Michael got up and sprinted out of the tomb. He told the guys outside and they laughed at him saying that the image of the old man was obviously because of his fall and he laughed uncomfortably with them yet knowing in his heart that what he says was real!
That night Michael tossed and turned in his bed unable to get the image of the old man out of his head. A storm raged outside. He got up and turned on the light. The words NO FEAR? were smeared on his wall in blood!There was a flash of lightning. The Lights went out. Lightning flashed again. The room was a glowing gray. He felt a cold hiss of expelled breath upon his neck. He knew it was too late to scream....


© Copyright 2017 stephen mahony. All rights reserved.

Add Your Comments:

Comments

More Literary Fiction Short Stories

Booksie 2017-2018 Short Story Contest

Booksie Popular Content

Other Content by stephen mahony

The Silent Terror

Short Story / Literary Fiction

Popular Tags