Through The Eyes of Our Horror

Chapter Six: Insomnia

What time was it? One in the morning. Time seemed to slip through Aaron's fingers the longer they stared at that wall. It was moving. Not in the way that most things did. It seemed to shift and waver like the heat shifted over a hot pavement.

His weary eyes stared at it, and the small lines that had been there as long as he could remember, began to move. Their forms twisted until a distorted face could be seen. Yet, his attention was ripped from the wall suddenly. The blur of a figure was seen in the corner of his eye, but when he peered at it, there was nothing. Nothing but an empty space and a still wall.

His body swayed as he got up from the floor, only stabilizing when he placed a hand on the wall. He looked around and tried to get a grasp on his environment. Suddenly it seemed as if his recollection was gone. When had he sat down? Why was it trickling down his shoulder into his shirt?

A whooshing sound of blood roared in his ears as he stared ahead. Why did it hurt so much? He couldn't recall what had happened or why, but it was so much. Then the rush of adrenaline pierced through his daze, swiftly numbing the pain. Then he turned around and faced him, the man he didn't recognize.

He was stunned in disbelief.

The man stared at them with dull, sunken eyes. His silence only fueled Aaron's anxiety. His skin was pale, but it wasn't an organic pale. It looked as if his skin was left out to decay to give it a grayish color. Appeared to have been shrink-wrapped against his skeleton, bones and veins pushing against the skin, clawing for freedom.

Darker splashes of color along the skin complimented the decaying look, if compliment was even the right word to use. Was this man dead? No, certainly not. Aaron noticed slight twitches at the end of his fingers. Then, before Aaron had the chance to react, the man reached out and curled his surprisingly strong fingers around Aaron's throat.

This couldn't be real. Surely, Aaron was hallucinating again. He could scarcely feel the cold fingers wrapped around his throat. The sensation was nearly gone, yet he could feel the pressure of his windpipe squeezing in. There was even a crack that pierced his ear and filled the dreaded silence. Then the taste of metallic blood.

Then he remembered there was a knife sticking out of his shoulder.

"I have been waiting so long for food. And here you are," Aaron's attacker growled. His vocal cords sounded torn, as if he had spent years screaming endlessly. He opened his mouth inhumanly wide and clamped his jaws down against Aaron's cheek. Already, skin tore away, filling his face with pain. A scream was released, but that too was quieted.

Suddenly, there was silence, and Aaron was sitting at the edge of his bed. He rushed to touch his face to assess the damage, but found nothing but smooth skin. He let out a shaky breath as he looked around to see where he was. To see if that terrifying creature was still there, or if somehow, by some crazy coincidence, it followed him through the confines of his mind.

"No, no, no. Please no," Aaron whimpered to himself, as if there was a timer set to bring him back there. Then he saw the large knife, bloodied on the floor. What had he done?

The man, no, the thing reached for the knife and unhinged his jaw like a snake, ready to devour Aaron. The fragile, rotting skin ripped away, blood gushing down the monster's chin. However, he wasn't in any pain, it seemed. Aaron didn't have the chance to scramble up to his feet before he was tackled back against it, knife lifted high in the air. The blood that dripped down into Aaron's eyes nearly blinded him.

"No. You're not here," Aaron desperately said, trying so much to believe it himself. "You're not real," He said with tightly closed eyes. He reached up to try holding his hands out for protection, but they suddenly snapped back. A scream erupted from his lips, bloody horror until suddenly he was laying down in an alleyway. Blood covered his face and shirt, and he rolled over to throw up profusely.