As Close As Death Will Ever Be.

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Thrillers  |  House: Booksie Classic
This is the first chapter of a piece I'm working on...Whether I post the other chapters as a novel will depend on the rating and comments of this one...please leave your comments and critique so that I can see what you think.

Submitted: August 27, 2012

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Submitted: August 27, 2012



Decaying bodies litter the floors. The stench of the maggots devouring their newly found homes chokes away the air. In every direction there is nothing but death. I'm engulfed in darkness but still my sight is not the least bit impaired. This is not your average nightmare. This was my reality. Allow me to warn you: this is not for the weak of heart! once you've dived into the bottomless hole, there will be no climbing back out. These are accounts of my nightmares that went from being nothing more than mere dreams to being my whole life and world. So, let us rewind time back four months ago. It was May 16, 2010. The day was a normal day. School, work, and an occasional football game with some guys was the content of my week. I was an average sixteen year old. The demons though, didn't arrive till midnight. That was when things blurred and the barrier between reality and a dream no longer existed.

I'm walking along a blood red road that feels almost as if it isn't solid but a sort of liquid. This stretches out in every direction for miles. Soon, I come to a wall made up solely of blood, brain and bones. There, standing on top of this wall, stood a darkly shaped figure that appeared to be nothing as if I could see through him, a mere shadow. The only light came from his eyes which burned a bright red flame. "Enter," he said, "and you will lose the one thing in this life that you cherish the most. The problem was that I no longer had anything to cherish. I had pushed away those who loved me because the thought of losing the ones I loved scared me. An ironic concept, I understand this, but it made sense at the time. I suppose it was easier to let them go if I was prepared for it. It was the unexpected loss that I feared. Another ironic thought: me fearing anything. The guy who lives in a nightmare everytime he sleeps is scared of something. It makes sense if you don't think about it. Now there's a concept that awaits a much longer paragraph.

This man (or woman or thing) stood atop this wall of rot peering at me. Peering into my mind, my thoughts. I could feel it searching for something to feed on and as of now his expression states he hasn't found it. To the left of this thing stood an opening the size of a door. The inside is the same as out, dark. I can't help but feel a little more on edge about this new atmosphere. It feels like some evil flows throughout this space. But this is simply a dream and nothing can hurt me. I look one more time at the space that the thing once occupied and see nothing but those firey red eyes and a dark crimson smile. I half-laugh to myself as I take my first step past the wall. I'm caught off gaurd by how cold it is. I can feel the hair oin my neck begin to stand up and chills choot through my spine. I turn around to walk back through the door but when I face where the wall once was I can see nothing but darkness, cold bitter, darkness. I fumble around searching like a blind man with my hands for the wall that stood there just seconds ago. Nothing. Cold nothing.

When I was little I used to be scared of the dark. I couldn't imagine not being able to see. And it seems that without darkness there is a silence that accompanies. I was scared of that too. To not be able to see or hear anything is close to not living. Yes, you can feel and taste until there is nothing around to feel and nothing but your own bad breath to taste. To me, it would come to a point where life wasn't worth living. Life had no meaning.

I turn back around to peer back into darkness onlt this time I am faced with the same firey eyes and crimson smile that sat upon the now dissipated wall. "Come my child," it says with a voice that seems almost attractive, "Your time has come." "Am I dead?" I asked. "As close as Death will ever be."

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