Sleep Walk Dance

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

After reading "the man in the black suit" by Stephen king, then listening to The Thespian by Alesana i decided to write this up. It's fairly short but i hope you enjoy anyway. comments make my day.


I am here to tell you a story. One that will haunt your thoughts by day and poison your dreams by night. I will try my best, but there are no words to write or brush strokes on a canvas that can describe the night I met the devil.

My name is Alesana and I’m sixteen years old, though I feelas if every day that passes amounts to a decade. I haven’t much time to write- it isn’t often I’m allowed from my room, but I’ll write my experience down anyway. Maybe someone will find it one day- perhaps before I waste away- and understand that dreadful night.

I was eleven years old, living in a little cottage down by the Mississippi river. My mama wasn’t very bright; I often took care of her and my little brother while my daddy was at work. My daddy was a hard working man. Tall and thick he was what you’d expect from a carpenter. He’d build houses. He made ours.

When all the chores were done and my mama was sleeping I’d sneak on down to the river and read a book or watch the water rush by.

One summer evening in 1964 I went down to the river as usual, accompanied by one of my favorite books and a small snack I packed for myself. Perhaps just two hours later the sun began to set, and I fell asleep against some soft moss growing against a large tree.

My peaceful slumber was interrupted by a low growl. Not one of a feral animal- I was used to those- but one that almost sounded human. In my sleepy haze I looked around but I found nothing out of place. I tossed my long brown hair over my shoulder and sat on my knees, looking around the dimly lit clearing.

The growl sounds again and I jump, only this time there are words that follow.

“look at you, you miserable fool,” the voice growls, it’s worse are harsh and bitter “get off your knees. Your prayers fall upon deaf ears. Heaven’s gates are closing, and you’re knocking on the devil’s door.”

As the voice speaks, I smile. This was something my mama told me about, but my daddy always told me to ignore it. She told me that a dark man would come to me eventually because I was born from sin. For a while, thinking that my existence was evil made me sad, but after a few years I shrugged it off and wondered if I’m going to hell anyway why not give up on god?

I smile up to see a dark silhouette of what seems to be a man with a long muzzle and twisting horns. A tail winds around from his backside and flicks with the summer breeze. I keep my voice soft as I speak.

“I’ve been waiting for you for quite some time, sir. Allow me to introduce myself. I’m the one who pulls on all the strings, and you’re lucking I don’t kill you were you stand.” I stand up as I speak, a sudden rush of courage surging through my veins.

The man laughs, one claw tipped hand reaching for me. Dark red scales glow where his skin should be, and the smell of sulfur wafts from his body. As he steps closer I see that where his eyes belong there are two dark black pits glowing a soft orange. As if fire was burning inside of him.

I push his scaly hand away forcefully, my dress ruffling and twisting as the wind picked up. Again he growls and his claws dig into my wrist, lifting my entire body. I cry out as my wrist is popped out of place, and the man grins a mouthful of shark like teeth.

“Foolish child,” he scoffs, breathing his rancid breath on me from his dark red dragon muzzle “I know who you are. You’re just a girl, a baby! Eleven years old, in fact. Little princess.” His smiles a dark smile, his hand not holding my wrist wiping the hot tears off my cheeks. “Look how easily I made you cry.” He muses, twisting my wrist and earning a shriek.

I clamp my teeth down onto my bottom lip, determined to keep from letting any more cries of pain exit. The man drops me and frowns, shaking his great head and “tsk”ing softly.

“You know, little Alesana,” he says, his voice seems to be filled with both sorrow and pride. “Your mama and daddy are dead.” His voice is chiming now, seeming lost in the image in his head. “Oh, what a gloriously sickening scene that was! Your dear brother, yes the little nine year old prince! He snapped. He took your papa’s hunting knife and split your mama open!.” The man laughs, hugging himself like a girl just asked to prom.

I can feel my eyes water as I picture this. My brother was always a little strange, but still I spoke up.

“You’re lying.”

“’Fraid not, little princess. Little Bel split your mama open like a birthday gift and pulled her inside out. Her blood stained the sweet smelling sheets so beautifully and the screaming was just wonderful.” The man sighs as if remembering a good memory from his childhood. “When your daddy found this he cried so much. Oh little Alasana you should have seen it. He asked your brother why he did it and all he could say was ‘Look daddy! I played with mommy! Now I wanna play with YOU!’”

The man imitated Little Belphegor’s voice perfectly as he made the motions with his hands. First cutting, then reaching and pulling. The man smiled wide and his long scaly tail winded around, his eyes glowing brighter.

“Hmmmm,” he hums, placing one great paw on his stomach. “All this talk of gore makes my stomach rumble.” He looks down at me, smiling.

I look up and clutch my broken wrist to my chest, hiding each terrified tremble. “You’re lying, you sick bastard. How dare you lie to me!” I scream up at him, getting to my feet and crying hot tears.

The man laughs- only now do I realize it’s because I just called the devil a sick lying bastard- and gently brushes my hair from my face.

Submitted: March 01, 2012

© Copyright 2021 WarmSummerRain. All rights reserved.

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Add Your Comments:



I can see the resemblance to "The Man in the Black Suit", its not a bad story...seems a little incomplete to me, however. But I do like your style, nonetheless. If you get an opportunity, please check out some of my stories, they are similar.

Sun, March 4th, 2012 8:10pm


I just got a chance to read my post, and when I copied it from Word it deleted half of it D: I don't know what happened, but where it ended on this post was not where it ended when I typed it. That's frustrating. Thanks for the kind word though. Much appreciated.

Sun, March 4th, 2012 6:18pm

Aaron Dries

Well done. I too, can see the Stephen King influence - and there's certainly nothing wrong with that.

You should read his book 'On Writing' - it's a fantastic writing guide and very inspirational.

Tue, March 6th, 2012 9:25am


Thank you very much :) I'll be sure to check that book out! Again, thank you! ^.^

Tue, March 6th, 2012 3:45am

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