The Devil's Victim

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Fantasy  |  House: Booksie Classic
'The Devil's Victim' is a short, fantasy story about how the safest place isn't usually your dreams...

Submitted: May 25, 2010

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Submitted: May 25, 2010

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I reluctantly sat down on the damp, fresh smelling green grass in the magnificent-looking meadow. It was dawn – I looked up to the blue and soft purple sky, my meditation was followed by a rather deep, heavy sigh. I lay on the ground with my hands behind my head, not minding if I ruined my favorite blue sweatshirt. I observed the sky carefully, waiting for sunrise; its color was starting to alter from blue and soft purple to a soft blue and yellow color. The clouds seemed on fire, since their color consisted of a heavy mixture of orange and pink. I sighed heavily again then thought, ‘My favorite place in the world…’ The view was the most beautiful I had ever seen through my naked eye. The sky’s tint altered hastily; insecurity started building up inside my soul – I was profoundly concerned. I had a brooding feeling about the place I was a guest to.
I hesitantly blinked, then all of a sudden the sun was in the middle of the sky, beaming proudly – it was already noon! I felt that I was in a movie that was set on fast-forward. Beautiful white clouds started to float in, what has been, a purely blue sky; they were differently shaped: one was shaped as a pie, another was shaped like an immense animal eating an infinitesimal one, another faraway cloud was darker than the others and much larger, it had no particular shape; I had a feeling that it was going to rain.
I blinked again and found the sky darker, since the shy sun hid behind the many dark clouds – raining was inevitable. I blinked one last time and felt the rain gliding down my cheeks; after about five seconds, the rain grew heavier and it was no longer like the normal rain, it was more…concentrated. I was soaked in no time. I stood up then felt the rain drops hammering against my head, for they felt like nails but I wasn’t in any kind of pain, which was anomalous.
I wandered through the meadow I was visiting and entered the dark woods; I didn’t know why I was entering those murky woods if I had such an ominous feeling about the place, but something in those mysteriously fear-provoking woods pulled me towards them – like a strong magnet – and increased my curiosity. I wasn’t afraid; I was just hypnotized by the gloomy look of the place. Out of the blue, I felt exhilarated, inspired…insanely happy; like I was about to commit a sin.
I looked behind me hesitantly after I heard a clear sound of cracking but saw nothing, then I mumbled,
“That’s very funny!” I slipped my hands inside my pockets then started whistling a random tune, which I can't remember; it was probably a tune that I just made up to calm my soul. I walked on but the woods seemed to have no visible end.
I continued my walk, for I couldn’t stop in this eerie place. I suddenly heard my name being whispered,
“Parker…Parker…”
At the beginning, I thought that the wind was whispering my name; but that seemed out of the question. My next guess was that God was calling my name, but I still couldn’t possibly believe that either – I wasn’t very pious.
I took my hands out of my pocket then asked worriedly,
“W-wh-who’s there?” I looked around but saw no one.
The dead leaves started dancing violently about the place and the trees started rocking back and forth as the wind blew harder,
“Parker, where are you?” the voice whispered again; this time, the tone was slightly louder and it was more mischievous. I was extremely horrified by then, the atmosphere was more intimidating than an exceedingly daunting horror movie.
I didn’t answer the voice this time and walked on more hesitant than ever.
I couldn’t find a way out of the damnedplace so I made a stop next to a colossal tree. I wasn’t tired, I was just frustrated. I sat down under the tree, craving a shelter from the pounding rain.The twilight came as soon as I blinked again, I sighed,
“This is just abnormal.” I drew my knees closer to my chest and wrapped my arms around my legs and started rocking back and forth, slowly muttering, “There’s no place like home, there’s no place like home…” I closed my eyes as I said those magical words but it turns out that magic is only in motion pictures – I was a fool to think this would actually work.
I sat down in the same attitude, still in fear of being found and murdered. This was my worst prediction, yet. Suddenly, a dark and unfamiliar figure struggled through the thick bushes and finally emerged. A male, I reckon, dressed in a black cloak from his neck to his feet with a black hat over his head. He took off his hat and bowed as soon as he saw me. My entire body started shaking, my lips started quivering, my skin turned pale, and my hair was white.The figure came closer and I recognized him as my murderer! He eyed me carefully from top to bottom and squatted down to my same level; I eyed him carefully in return then started analyzing his features: pale skin, bushy and dark eye brows, a thick dark beard, a brown moustache, wide hazel eyes, slightly white lips, and a medium-sized nose. He started speaking in a husky voice; he had intended to sound kind, but his tone wasn’t much of a help,
“What are you doing alone in these woods at this hour, young man?” His English wasn’t perfect and his accent was not like any accent I’ve ever heard throughout my seventeen years of life. I didn’t answer him, for I found out that, ‘the cat ate my tongue’; it was the most bizarre feeling I’ve ever had – my tongue was literally numb! He observed me carefully one more time then declared, “Oh, you’re a mute,” I didn’t answer, not even in the form of a simple motion – he carried on though, “I’m very sorry – would you like me to take you home?” I didn’t answer again and stared at him with my reluctant blue eyes.
He got up and took off his black cloak and hat, he threw them on the ground and they vanished; my mouth was agape as I gazed at him with wild, wide eyes,
“You like that, Parker?” he smiled mischievously; I kept as quite as a mouse. I closed my mouth and looked at the ground underneath me, “You’re not going to answer me?” he moved closer to me, my entire body shivered off goosebumps; I looked up at him innocently and still said nothing. He nodded then turned around, raised both his arms up high into the sky and started murmuring a few lines in another language that I didn’t understand. It didn’t even sound like a language. Lightning struck hard, the ground cracked, and flames rose from the womb of the earth. I got up and started running as fast as I could but I was pulled back; something, or someone,pulled me closer to the dreadful scene and made me lay flat on the ground. The man turned around and moved closer to me, his eyes were fiery red and filled with fury; I crawled using my hands and feet but he was quicker than me. He picked me up and held me by my sweatshirt; he was suddenly larger in size.He said in an appallingly uproarious tone, “That’s your punishment for not answering my questions!” He threw me carelessly. I darted right into a tree, my head bumped and I rubbed it and looked at my hand – there was blood. I stared horridly for a long time but I wasn’t shocked because of the pain – I didn’t feel pain. I was shocked because of how strong that man was; his strength was not similar to any mortal’s strength.
I stared horridly at the man as he took another dreadful form, I was appalled by how grotesque he looked after he phased – he phased into something…ghastly, bloodcurdling, and highly revolting – a devil! The devil looked too terrible to describe, there really are no words to paint a picture of how…it looked. I shrieked with horror and got up again; this time, I started running even faster than I was running before;again the devil was faster than me. He grabbed my leg and squeezed it so hard that I heardthehorrendous sound offracture.This time, I screamed in pain. It was the first time I’ve ever been in pain ever since I visited the meadow, “Give up now, Parker; you can’t beat the devil! I just want your soul, your precious, purelittle soul.” I could hear him laugh in an earsplitting pitch; I yelped for help then opened my eyes to find myself in my bedroom; my mother was shouting my name frantically and every member of my family rushed over to save me.
I glanced around me to find an oddly familiar scene: I’m in my bedroom, sitting in my bed, in my pajamas, my room is the same color, my cell phone is at the same place, and my reading glasses are in the same place.But now my mother is on my right side of the bed, my father is on the left side of the bed, my two sisters are in front of me, and horror is sucking the life out of all their lively faces. I knew what they were so horrified of – my leg was really broken.
“W-what happened?” my youngest sister,Patricia,asked. I stared at every one of them: mother, father, Patricia, and Patrice – my other sister – I could clearly see anxiety in their eyes. My father cleared his throat and asked solemnly,
“Are you…okay, son?” I didn’t answer, just like I didn’t answer the devil. I couldn't answer – ‘the cat ate my tongue’. They all stared at me worriedly, but no one said anything. I broke the ice by saying,
“My leg is really…broken?” I didn’t recognize my own voice, for it was not even mine. I couldn’t explain who I sounded like.
Nobody answered me and in a flash, everyone was getting ready to take me to a hospital. I stayed still in my bed, watching them uneasily as they went back and forth talking all at once. I felt the room spinning around as my chest tightened and the atmosphere got warmer. I could hardly take my breath and I was sweating heavily.
My father stepped inside my room and carried me to the car; I was in the backseat alone, staring at the roof of the car. I couldn’t speak, nor even breathe rhythmically.
The days passed by and I hardly slept anymore; dark rings developed beneath my blue eyes. I stared uneasily at my broken leg, which was now in a cast, and I winced with pain as I remembered my leg cracking. I remembered the entire dream and felt damned now because it was forever planted in my memory.
I didn’t tell anyone about it since I could no longer speak; I was really too staggered to utter a syllable.
The dream altered me greatly; I couldn’t speak anymore, I couldn’t sleep anymore, and I never stepped outside my house; even after my leg healed – which happened a year, or so, later.
I knew that I wasn’t going to lead a normal life any longer , for the devil tried to kill me in my sleep. I am the devil’s victim!


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