The Demon's Whispers

30- Returning

3 months ago...

Zak POV.

Heavy pants left my body as I stared at the bare walls around me. The dark room gave little away but I somehow knew that this place was bad. Seriously bad.

Lifting my hands off the damp floor, I tried to look at the substance that coated my palms, it felt like a mixture of greasy and smelt copper. It was dark in colour but without a proper light, I couldn't tell what it was.

A long groan would filter in the air every few seconds, sending my adrenaline and fear shooting through the roof. I would tense my body and wait for something to appear from the shadows, but nothing ever did.

Stumbling to my feet, my head felt woozy and I had to steady myself, trying to blink away the dizziness but it was no use.  Pushing myself forward, I began to feel around the room, trying to find a door, an exit, an escape.

A putrid smell would fill the air, making my nose crinkle in disgust and my stomach heave. The smell so foul that I contemplated going back to avoid it.

But I couldn't, I had to keep going.

The groan followed.

My feet felt heavy, my body struggled to move as pain soared through my system. Was I hurt? I must be hurt, but how?

I stopped and leant against the wall, praying for some kind of sign. Some help from someone above, to guide me to safety, to give me some aid.

But instead, I felt long nails begin dragged down my skin. Like sharp nails, they penetrated my skin, shredding the flesh and muscle back to the bone. I cried in agony and grabbed my arm, black oozing looked like it was coming from the wound but I knew in this poor light it was my blood.

"Stop!"

The nails came again.  Tearing at my leg. Then again at my stomach.

I was helpless. Trying to defend myself in the dark against a creature I couldn't see. It's nails causing damage I knew I couldn't repair.

My legs have our, the muscles too shredded to function. Crying in pain, I rolled onto my stomach and tried to pull myself away when a heavy pressure landed on my back. That's when I felt the heavy breath, the demonic laugh....

......

I jolted out of my sleep, throwing the sheets that were on my body up the air as I fought with them, trying to check my body for any injuries. A layer of sweat laid across my body, making me feel clammy and sticky.

With no signs of injuries, I lifted my hands and wiped the sweat off my face before looking around the room. Breathing carefully, I grabbed my phone and turned on the torch, checking the dark before I hit on the touch lamp, basking the room in a warm white glow.

Using the note section on my phone, I logged the time and the date. 3rd night, 8th dream.

"Shit." I murmured before getting out of the bed and accessing the wet outline of my body. "Third night of this too."

I ripped the sheets of the bed and threw them into the laundry basket, wondering if my neighbours thought I was incontinent with how much I was washing my bedsheets. Fuck them. They don't know what I go through.
I scrapped the idea of re-making the bed and decided to take a shower.

Letting the cool water wash over my skin, I lathered up and rinsed twice before scrubbing my hair. Once all traces of shampoo were gone, I got out and dried myself off.