When you listen to music at night, it's a beautiful thing. Song after song plays, your emotions run high, the world is your oyster. No one can mess with you. No one. That's why it is too bad the messing isn't done by no one.
You grow tired and weary as the night drags on, whatever pointless thing you were doing before no longer matters. Your mind slips in and out of thoughts, a drunken haze of sleep takes hold of your mind. The music is still playing. A bubble of your own existence encases you in a shell of isolation. No one but yourself can hear what's going on in those earphones. Words cut in and out of your mind, confusing your brain. It's disorientating. You usually wake up after being awaken by a loud song, but not this time. Your brain is stuck. Something is holding your mind from consciousness. Whispers are all you hear. Mostly from the song playing. But the other ones that aren't shouldn't ever be heard. Are you truly alone in your bubble of existence? That one time you thought you saw a shadow moving in the basement or hallway. The feeling of being followed at night. It's all chalked up to being paranoia. But what about when what you see starts to talk to you? Words you've never heard fill the mind. Images of figures and creatures never to be seen by mortal eyes fill the brain. Your entire being screams to wake up, just like in class when you accidentally fall asleep and jerk awake seconds later; only this time you won't wake up, they won't allow out. You fall deeper and deeper into the whole, the whispers now playing over your songs, acting as the background music for your spiral into insanity. It's a hideous dream, fleshy objects and eyes spinning by your point of view, collousal images of creatures staring at you as they fly by.
Bugs. Bugs skitter around your mind, infesting all of your innocent thoughts. Suddenly you're not in your mind anymore, but a place. A barren red desert, staring in the distance at the tallest creature you've ever seen, towering over and into the clouds. Green, fleshy legs is all you can make out. What is this? Where am I?
The ground cracks, red light erupting through the crevice. You look down but can only see the smoke and light. The edge you stand on breaks. You're falling, the sides of the crevice no longer visible. All you can see is the clouds and the red. You fall for an eternity, only wishing for death to escape.
As your mind speaks its wish, the clouds part and a dark green shape comes from the heavens. Thousands of eyes stare as the face comes down on you. Before you even realize what it is you're looking at, there is only darkness.
No red light. No face. Only the cold. A mind lost to the wind.
YOU ARE READING
Short Stories From A Peculiar Mind
Historia CortaA new dog isn't what it appears. A cheater is stalked by a dark evil. A man chooses his path. Late night music isn't what it seems.
