For some reason, the feeling of torn, ragged clothing on the shoulder of this nighttime invader stopped me in my tracks. Fear once again swelled in my stomach and in my chest as I recoiled my hand in disgust at the touch of straggled, oily hair.
I could not bring myself to touch its face, although I wonder to this very day what it would have felt like.
Dear God it moved.
It moved. It was subtle, but its grip on my shoulder and across my body strengthened. No tears came, but God how I wanted to cry. As its hand and arm slowly coiled around me, my right leg brushed along the cool wall which the bed lay against.
Of all that happened to me in that room, this was the strangest. I realized that this clutching, rancid thing which drew great delight from violating a young boy's bed, was not entirely on top of me. It was sticking out from the wall, like a spider striking from its lair.
Suddenly its grip moved from a slow tightening to a sudden squeeze, it pulled and clawed at my clothes as if frightened that the opportunity would soon pass.
I fought against it, but its emaciated arm was too strong for me. Its head rose up writhing and contorting under the blanket. I now realized where it was taking me, into the wall!
I fought for my dear life, I cried and suddenly my voice returned to me, yelling, screaming, but no one came.
Then I realized why it was so eager to suddenly strike, why this thing had to have me now. Through my window, that window which seemed to represent so much malice from outside, streaked hope; the first rays of sunshine.
I struggled further knowing that if I could just hold on, it would soon be gone.
As I fought for my life, the unearthly parasite shifted, slowly pulling itself up my chest, its head now poking out from under the blanket, wheezing, coughing, rasping. I do not remember its features, I simply remember its breath against my face, foul and as cold as ice.
As the sun broke over the horizon, that dark place, that suffocating room of contempt was washed, bathed in sunlight.
I passed out as its scrawny fingers encircled my neck, squeezing the very life from me.
~ To be continued. . .
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Torned Souls
Horrorcurrently - slow updates, on hiatus. Hi there, Are you up for some fright and screams? Some shivers and chills? Then, buckle right up, because YOU are in the RIGHT PLACE. But now, we don't want Pennywise, the dancing clown to get you at night right...
