Hereafter

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Horror  |  House: Booksie Classic
When we truly experience a nightmare, are we alive.... or dead?

(Sorry about indentation issues, please ignore those as I copy and pasted from google documents)

Submitted: July 18, 2013

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Submitted: July 18, 2013

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I felt my self stirring, my vision was blurry, all I could see around me was fields of gray. I shambled to my feet. As far as I could see, was dead, wilted plants. Weeping cornstalks that loomed over my head. I stepped forward, pushing aside the tall stems. Walking aimlessly. If the endless maze of corn wasn’t enough, a thick fog settled in around me. I continued pushing my way through the stalks, suddenly a figure leaned out of the corn, its face silhouetted in black and it made a loud creaking noise as it leaned in toward me. I screamed and fell back into the dirt, I kept my eyes closed, but the only sound I could hear was the howling of the wind.

I opened my eyes slowly and looked up at the tall being, which stood still. Its ragged clothes blowing in the wind. It was just a scarecrow. I stood back up and approached the straw man. As the shadow moved from its face, my heart sank. The smell, the revolting smell. I felt like I’d be sick. It was me. Crucified on the wooden planks, placed up in the field to keep the birds away. I clutched my hands to my chest and slowly stepped back. My cheeks gaunt, eyes hollow and lifeless and all my blood drained out. Food for the field. “It can’t be.” I thought to myself. “It just can’t.” Suddenly I felt numb, and everything went black.

Like shattering glass I woke in a cold sweat, screaming. I looked around and realized I was in my own bed. I threw my sheets off and sat up. “Was it, just a dream?” I sighed. I left my bed and walked to the door. A chill shot up my spine as I reached for the doorknob, yet the air was strangely still. I opened the door and walked into a long hall, rusted metal walls towering above my head. Looking back, a solid wall stood where my room had been. I pressed my hand against the cold, hard wall. “No.” I whispered. I turned and quickly walked down the hall, thinking solely of escape. The lights flickered, and the rusted walls seemed to slowly close in on me. As claustrophobia set in I could see a pair of doors at the end of the hall. I felt my self running faster, my breath getting heavier. Suddenly the flickering lights stopped, and one by one the light bulbs shattered above my head. I closed my eyes and covered my ears, screaming.

When I opened my eyes I found myself in my bathroom, “What’s happening to me?” I felt my mind slowly slip into the black depths of hysteria. I rushed over to the sink and turned on the water. Splashing water onto my face, “Wake up! Wake up!” I yelled at myself. I looked up into the mirror to see my face, blackened eyes crying blood and rotten teeth displayed through flayed lips. I reached for my face with gaunt, bloodied hands. I cried out in pain as the mirror shattered into pieces, I stumbled backward and backed into the bathtub. I turned to see myself soaking in a bath of blood. My pale face staring back up at me. Before I could utter a sound its jaw, her jaw, my jaw dropped and hundreds of black spiders crawled out.  They quickly overtook me, eclipsing my very soul. I felt myself fall back.

I awoke from the penumbra once more, again in my bed. “I-is this real?” I said softly. My skin crawled, I could barely move. But I stood, and walked to my door again. And opened it. I walked out into my own home, and slowly descended the stairs. It was strangely cold. I went to my front door, but before I could reach it. The doorbell rang. “Wh-, Who is it?” I asked, but there was no answer. I reached for the handle, the hair on my neck standing on end. I opened the door, but no one stood there. I stepped outside, the grass was gray, and a long stretch of road lead from my porch into the horizon. Into a red sky, and a black sun.

“No.”


© Copyright 2017 Tucker Haase. All rights reserved.

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