Stories Of Horror

I Need To Believe In Ghosts

" I Need To Believe In Ghosts"

The elevator door opened and I stepped out. The lights were out, for some reason. My apartment unit was somewhere further down, near the end. It was a walk I had taken so often, every single day, without even thinking. But never in the dark.

I began walking, eyes turning involuntarily to each passing doorway.

Then I heard it.

Scraping. Dragging. And a noise that I convinced myself, oh so hard, was due to an old air-conditioning unit starting up.

Until I saw it. Emerging from the doorway. Hollow eyes. A flayed mask for a face. Ruined, fingerless hands, reaching forward.

And oh, so much blood.

I had stumbled back a few steps, nearly falling over, before the reptile brain kicked in and I sprinted for the elevator.

Behind, I heard it croaking. And the scraping. Dragging itself after me.

I didn't look back. I pushed the elevator button over and over and over.

Scrape

Then, mercifully, the doors opened, flashing a ray of light into the hallway.

I dashed in, hitting the wall, nearly weeping with relief.

Then I realised I haven't closed the doors.

It was still crawling on. Inch by inch, towards me.

I smashed my fist on > < and prayed.

The last thing I saw before the doors closed were it's eyes. Bloodshot. Lidless. Staring straight at me.

It's been a month.

I believe in ghosts now.

I believe there are monsters that haunt this world.

I believe what I saw wasn't human.

And I must, must, ignore the newspaper reports that "she" had crawled on her stumps, bleeding gallons, dying only inches away from the elevator door.