Creepy Tales

The Beginning Of The End

When I'm lonely, or just plain bored, I tend to paint. My boyfriend is away on a business trip for a few weeks. It's been incredibly boring, so I'm painting him. Whenever I paint, I often make my paintings unique by making a few changes, almost to make a statement or to just make it pop. Like...leaving the eyes white...or should I make them black?

     I sigh and move my brush away from the canvas. I have most of it done; the dark curly hair, the pale skin, I just can't make up my mind about the eyes.

Suddenly, I hear beeping and my eyes widen. I forgot about the cookies I was baking. I get up and rush to the kitchen, turning off the alarm and putting oven mitts on to get the cookies out. I really hope they turn out okay, I want to give these to Brandon when he comes back from his trip. He loves when I bake.

I take the pan out before sitting it on the stove and closing the oven. As I'm taking my mitts off, I turn around to put them back in the drawer before noticing something out of the corner of my eye. I freeze in place before looking over to the corner of the room. Nothing. I've only been alone for a few days and I'm already imagining things. I put the oven mitts in the drawer and go back to my painting.

I pick up the brush, still hesitant about what to do about the eyes. They're still white. Empty. Hollow. I glance over at my palette before noticing something out of the corner of my eye again. I look towards the hall...and I see....him? "Brandon? Why are you back already?" I say, continuing to stare at him. His back is facing me, like he's staring at the wall. I turn and put my brush down, about to go over to him. When I get up to walk over to the hall, he's gone. My brows furrow in confusion and I walk into the hall, looking both ways, looking for any trace of him, but there's nothing.

I look in the bedroom, the bathroom, the living room, and the kitchen. He's gone. I go back to the room I was painting in and grab my phone, texting him. I send a message asking him what he's up to. He responds immediately, saying he's about to go to bed. I get up again, walking back to the bedroom and switching the light on. He's still not here. I'm still imagining. If I tell him, he'll probably think it's funny, so I'll just tell him good night.

I think I probably need sleep too. Being tired is causing me to hallucinate. I set my phone down on the nightstand before turning the light off and climbing into bed with a sigh, closing my eyes.

A noise wakes me up. I check my watch, seeing that it's a little past 3:00. Only got a few hours of sleep. The sound I hear now is unmistakable. It's the clicking of pool balls against each other after being hit by the cue stick. My boyfriend loves playing pool in the living room. I can't think of anything else that sound could be.

I get up slowly and carefully, trying not to make any noise as I step into the hall, having a clear view of the pool table from here. He's standing there, playing pool. I hear the sound of him making one into the pocket. Otherwise, it's completely silent. I slowly walk down the hall and into the living room, standing behind him.

I place my hand on his shoulder, causing him to turn towards me. His eyes meet mine. His empty, hollow eyes. His nose is slightly crooked, his mouth a bit too low on his face, like my painting. I try to run back to the bedroom but he grabs my arm, forcing me to look at him again, I'm unable to move. I scream at him before waking up in a cold sweat, my breathing labored.

Why did I have to paint him like that? I'm not going to stop having nightmares. I look towards the hall to once again see him standing there, facing the wall. I get up and hurriedly slam the bedroom door shut and lock it, getting back into bed. I have to get rid of that painting tomorrow. I grab my phone, texting Brandon again. I don't even care how early it is, he needs to know how miserable I am.

I tell him about what I've been seeing and how freaked out I'm becoming, asking if he can try to come back sooner than next week. I know he's not that far away, just a few hours. Without a response back from him, I go back to sleep.

                         _______________

When I wake up, I quickly check the time on my watch, seeing it's 9:00. I guess I can get up. I unlock the door and open it slowly. Nothing's there. I walk down the hall and into the kitchen, before stopping in my tracks. He's standing there by the pool table again. I don't know if this will work, but it'll make me feel better. I grab a knife out of the kitchen drawer and walk towards him slowly.

I'm finally right behind him. I hesitantly raise the knife and stab him in the back, estimating where his heart is. He grunts and falls to the floor, not moving. I grab my phone, seeing I have unread messages. Brandon texted me an hour ago. I open the texts. They read "Be there soon" and "Just got here". I reach down and turn him over, dropping to my knees once I see that his eyes aren't so hollow this time.