I returned home, the familiar surroundings cloaked in an eerie atmosphere. The lights flickered above me, casting shadows that danced ominously along the walls. A deep-seated dread churned in my stomach as I made my way upstairs, each creak of the floorboards echoing my anxiety. When I opened my bedroom door, I was met with the horrifying sight of L, standing there, his eyes entirely white, void of any humanity.
In a panic, I reached for the gun I always kept hidden under my bed. My hands trembled as I pulled the trigger, but nothing happened—the gun was empty. The realization hit me like a punch to the gut. Before I could react, L lifted me off the ground, suspending me in the air. I felt paralyzed, my body unable to move as pain shot through me like electricity.
"You thought I would die?" L taunted, his voice dripping with malice. "You should die now."
"No! No!" I screamed, my voice a mere whisper against the overwhelming force that held me. I felt my bones cracking, an excruciating sensation that coursed through every nerve in my body. The smell of blueberries invaded my senses, a sickening reminder of all the torment I had endured. I was slipping away, drowning in despair as I thought of Scarlet and Kayla.
But then, something shifted within me. A surge of strength, ignited by the memories of those I loved and lost, pushed against the darkness that enveloped me. It was as if I had awakened a dormant power inside myself. With newfound determination, I fought against L's hold, and to my astonishment, I broke free from his grasp and landed on the floor.
L stood frozen in shock, disbelief written all over his bloodied face. "No! This can't be!" he shouted, but I felt invincible. I had harnessed not just my power, but also his—two forces colliding as I channeled my anger and grief into a single, powerful blast.
In that moment, a violent explosion rocked the house, sending debris flying in all directions. I found myself thrown back, disoriented, lying amidst the rubble of my once-familiar home.
As the dust settled, I looked around and saw L's lifeless body lying in the debris. A wave of disbelief washed over me as I witnessed him disintegrate into small pieces, particles scattering into the air. "Yes," I breathed, relief washing over me like a warm tide. I had finally killed him.
Moments later, a group of people arrived, their faces a mix of shock and concern. They helped me out of the wreckage and rushed me to a nearby hospital. Days passed as I lay in the sterile white room, surrounded by the rhythmic beeping of machines and the sterile smell of antiseptic. Finally, the doctors declared me stable enough to leave.
Yet, as I stepped outside, a heavy void settled in my chest. I had survived, but at what cost? I had lost everything. With nothing left for me in this town, I decided to move to a new place, hoping to escape the memories that haunted me.
In my new town, the first few days were a breath of fresh air. I wandered the streets, trying to distract myself, but the gnawing emptiness followed me everywhere. I missed Scarlet and Kayla—their laughter, their warmth. The ache in my heart grew unbearable, and I found myself standing at the edge of a tall building one evening, contemplating the ultimate escape.
As I prepared to jump, a voice broke through the silence behind me. "Hey!" a girl shouted, startling me. I turned to see her rushing towards me. "What are you doing? How could you even think about killing yourself? Are you crazy?"
I stared at her, bewildered. "Do you know me?" I asked, my voice shaky.
"No, but you're a person. You have a story to tell. Please, let me help you," she pleaded, sincerity shining in her eyes.
In that moment, I felt a flicker of hope. Maybe, just maybe, I didn't have to carry this weight alone.
YOU ARE READING
The Whistler In The Night
HorrorEvan is left shattered, haunted by nightmares that refuse to fade. Night after night, he's drawn into disturbing visions of shadowed figures and ritual chants that seem to echo beyond his dreams. Seeking comfort, he confides in Elena, a new friend w...