Random short stories

Breaking out (Part 1)

The house stood like a sentinel against the encroaching darkness, its windows glinting with an eerie glow that seemed to pulse with a malevolent energy. Inside, the air was thick with the scent of decay and the whispers of forgotten memories. A man named Ethan moved cautiously through the dimly lit corridors, his eyes darting nervously from shadow to shadow. Every creak of the floorboards sent a shiver down his spine, triggering memories he wished he could forget but the mind is a feeble thing.

Ethan had returned from the army with scars that ran deeper than any physical wound, a scar that became a thorn in both his heart and mind. He was diagnosed with PTSD, locked himself away in his house, trying to seek refuge from the demons that haunted his every waking moment. But there was no escape from the nightmares that plagued him, each one a relentless echo of the horrors he had witnessed. Every night, Ethan found himself transported back to the battlefield, reliving the moment when he lost his comrades, his brother-in-arms, his brothers by anything but blood.

He still vividly remembers the way their bodies laid on the ground in a pool of blood, some had their limbs blown off by enemy explosives while others had their bodies filled with bullet holes. Their eyes were voided of life, staring back at him like an endless abyss. He could hear their voices, screaming at him, blaming him for their deaths. And when he awoke, drenched in sweat and trembling, he would quickly stumble to the bathroom, his hands shaking as he scrubbed at the non-existent blood that stained his skin over and over again. Vomiting out his insides into the toilet bowl when it becomes too much for him.

But tonight, was different, way too different than your average nightmare. Tonight, the nightmares that haunts his broken mind had spilled from his dreams and into the waking world, twisting reality into a nightmarish landscape of thorn vines and black goo. As Ethan ventured deeper into the house, he could feel the weight of his guilt pressing down on him like a suffocating blanket. 

He stumbled through the darkened corridors, his heart pounding in his chest as he searched for a way out of this waking nightmare. The thorns seemed to come alive as it grew and grew, encasing the walls of the house while the black sludge slowly appeared at random spots of the house like moss. The sludge even emitted a strange heat that Ethan felt might burn him if he wonders too close. It was like it was made of magma but it did not burn through the house. All of this was strange, scary even. Ethan just wants to find a way out of this horror movie but he cannot as the entrance door was completely blocked.

Using the fruits of training in the army, Ethan does his best to traverse through the house while trying to avoid the obstacles everywhere to find another way out. He makes his way to the kitchen, trying to find some kind of weapon for protection against the vines but the knife that he had found seemed to not work. He had tried slashing the kitchen knife on one of the thorn vines but it did even make the slightest cut on it. Even worse, the metal knife had begun to rust upon contact with the vine and had dissolved into dust.

The vines apparently did not liked that it was attacked for it had begun to grow slightly faster as retaliation. Afraid and having nothing to defend himself. Ethan moved his feet; jumping, dodging, and rushing to his bedroom. He locked the door, hoping it would keep the ever-growing vines and goo out. But now, he has no way of escape. He is trapped. Ethan starts to panic, hyperventilating, feeling hopeless. Then he suddenly heard a voice. A voice so soft and gentle. A familiar voice. Soothing his mind and calming him down. It was his grandmother's voice. The man was confused and slowly, absent-mindedly, followed the voice to his closet. He opens it and sees an old box that was left to him by his grandmother. She once told him that if he were to ever feel lost and she is no longer there to help him, he should open the box and what was inside would guide him in her stead.

He has always trusted her words and so he did. Inside was a necklace. It had an emerald for a gem and was connected with an iron chain. The design of the necklace looked simple but the gem was beautiful, like her. Admiring the beautiful emerald gem, Ethan was interrupted from his thoughts. He peers back and sees that the temporary barricade was gone. The door was pried open by the vines and it slowly creeps into the room. It was closing in on him. Swiftly, Ethan wears the necklace on his person and faces the vines. The emerald started to glow a bright green. The vines that were creeping closer then seemed to disintegrate from the light. 

The gem was protecting him. It can ward off the vines. His grandmother was right. Using the necklace, he went back out of his room and with a new sense of bravery, even if it were only a sliver, and continued on his way. He was able to reach for the entrance door but it was locked. It was worth a try.