13 - 2 - 2020
Dear Diary,
Today I was called for an interview about my friend. It was a bit uncomfortable for me as he is no longer with me, but I have to move on. Guess what, I'll script the interview down. I've got nothing to do anyways.
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I began as soon as the camera started rolling, the stark light casting eerie shadows around the room.
"It all started 5 years back, when I started to go to college. At first, it was just some sounds in my head and having a weird dream—"
Before I could finish my sentence, the interviewer interrupted, her voice cutting through the tense silence like a knife.
"What was that dream, miss?"
Despite my reluctance, I knew I had to recount the nightmare that had haunted me for years.
"It was a dream of a boy who endured unimaginable torment," I whispered, the words feeling heavy on my tongue. "He was covered in blood, his screams echoing in the darkness as cruel hands tore at his flesh. They pulled out all nails until there were no more left to inflict pain. In a room devoid of hope, hungry insects feasted on his wounds, relentless in their hunger."
I paused, the memories clawing at the edges of my mind, threatening to consume me.
"They broke his bones, shattered his spirit," I continued, my voice trembling with the weight of the words. "They drowned him in salty water, the sting of his wounds a constant reminder of his suffering. And when all seemed lost, they used him as a target, throwing acid until there was nothing left but agony."
As I finished speaking, I looked up, the realization dawning on me that I had traumatized the interviewer with the horrors of my past.
"Oh my," she gasped, her eyes wide with disbelief. "That's... unimaginable. Why would anyone do such a thing? How did he... How did he die?"
Her questions hung in the air like a chilling breeze, the answer too horrifying to comprehend.
"They did it for their sick pleasure," I replied, my voice barely above a whisper. "He died... he died from the pain, from the agony of it all."
The room fell silent, the weight of our words hanging heavily between us.
"What was his name?" the interviewer asked, her voice barely a whisper.
I hesitated, the memories of my friend's suffering threatening to overwhelm me.
"His name..." I whispered, the name tasting bitter on my lips, "his name was ALZURAS."
YOU ARE READING
Alzuras
ParanormalA young girl named Petra moved to a house and her life is changed ever since. She makes a new friend though it was a rough meeting, they become close. Petra is then called for an interview about this very friend, she returns home and since she had n...
