PinPoint - A collection of short stories

Candles

Dread filled the pit of my stomach.
The pound of the monsters rushing over my rooftop reminded me of the storm we were all batteling.
Their feet pitter-patter loudly in a deafening roar above my head.
My tin roof did nothing to muffle it.
"Will I survive another day?"
I ask myself, as I hear a low rumble slip from the throat of a monster in the direction of my left.
I clamp my hands over my ears.
"Please," I whisper.
"Please, stop!"
All the monsters do is laugh and jeer.
Their chortles short and cracking, sending spine-tingling echoes down the street, round the rim of my mug.
They tear at the foilage, snapping anything that will bend to their will.
My breath hitches as an especially loud grumble sounds above me.
The noises are like rushing waves, currents streaming above my head.
I throw my head back and close my eyes, letting my own weight bend me backwards until I reached a certain contortion that sends shooting fire up my spine and down to my fingertips.
My eyes snapped open and I let out a soft groan at the pain.
"No,"
They bent me to their will too.
I'm as weak as the tree that they knocked against my door.
Their pounding fists echo in my ears, their long fingers scratching down my walls, only to be quickly replaced by another set.
Their tears race down the windows, each gathering momentum when they consume another.
I'm stuck here, pained from my stretch and curled in my thin blanket as if I could block the demons out.
The muffling material does nothing to silence the scream of a certain creature who is losing their patience.
They pair their screech with a loud banging, while they throw all their weight onto the door, the wall, the window and every other surface of my small domain.
They shake my heart and limit my breath until all I can do is gaze quietly at a spot nearby the candle.

I hate rainstorms.

ˢᵀᴿᴬᵂᴮᴱᴿᴿᵞ ᴮᴼᵞ