Short Horror Stories and Urban Legends

Segment One- Alone o' Blaze

For some bizarre reason I picked the night to walk to the shops. Not the morning, nor afternoon or evening, but the chilly, moon-lit night. The darkest and coldest of nights. They say never walk alone, maybe they are right. With every lonely step I took, the ghostly wind blew my light-brown hair across my face. The air tasted rustic, almost metal. Metallic. Blood. Yes! Like blood. 

My house, oh so lovely and safe, came within my view, but the sound of the howling wind was now blocked out by another sound- a familiar sound. Footsteps. Unknown to whom. Silent footsteps. I wanted to turn around but what was the point when my front door was meters away, calling my name. I made my legs walk as quickly as they would go. As quick as a cheetah, almost. They say never talk to strangers, but what if those silent footsteps were not those of a stranger? 'Turn around'. The weakening voice in my head said. 'Turn around'. "NO, no I don't want to!" I said as if someone were listening. "I don't want it to get me." Tears filled my eyes as the wind harshly blew and howled like a scene in a horror movie. A scene in a scary forest. A scene where someone...dies.

The door handle was the last thing I saw. The footsteps were the last things I heard. Silence. 

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As my eyes slowly opened, the darkness hit me like a fired bullet. They say that nightmares aren't real, but they are. Nightmares are just the moving images in your head that your body and brain don't want you to see and believe are real.  I know. I cry myself to sleep every night. Every single night my tears would act like escaping waterfalls because of the horrific, burned images in my brain. 

As I sit here, in the back of a strangers van, the only thing I have to keep myself occupied from the sickening thoughts of this place, are my terrible memories. They like to entertain.

As I stare out of the window, I grabbed the bars with my hands, coated with stinging cuts. They were cold, very cold. Shivering. I clenched my fists around the bars and shook. They didn't budge. So I shook them again, this time with more anger that had built up inside of me for years. Shaking the bars with all the force I had, I smirked as they became unclasped. Dropping the bars, still as cold as ice and watching them fall to the ground with a pile of smoke dust rise from them each, I climbed out of the forever tightening window, and made my way to freedom at last. The rest, as they say, was history. 

My eyes were adjusting to the darkness now. They say keep calm and carry on, but I couldn't. I can't. I won't. I felt around in the van hoping to find a possible way of escaping. The deafening silence burnt my ears. I wish I was back home with my family. I wanted to be.

Then again, I don't have any family left. Not anymore. 

Suddenly my heart skipped a dozen beats. I found something. I winced in utter pain and swore aloud as the blood poured from my finger. I lapped it up like a dog, trying to ignore the face staring at me from the corner.

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They say never try and run, but what help was that going to be now? The rotting smell of the poor, lost carcases was tearing up my nostrils, and filling my head with unlimited questions. What about if that's me in an hour or so? How long have I been in here? Will I end up like them? What does my kidnapper want? Is it a he or a she, and does he want me dead? Will I ever see my family again?

I felt the rage once again build up inside me. my insides were on fire. Or maybe it's just because the heat of the van. "I HAVE NO FAMILY!" I screamed and punched the nearest wall to me, causing the van to tilt violently. However in doing so, one of the rotting bodies toppled over me until it's flopping limbs were pinning me down. I screamed and kicked it off. I wiggled away praying for freedom. As I backed into another wall, another lifeless body plummeted to the floor, bashing parts of me as they toppled over in the smallest of vans. Body after body flung themselves around in the van, like a carnival of the dead crashing and bashing into the van's walls.

Then with the loudest screech, causing the flying bodies to come to a stop, the van came to a halt.

As I sat in the deafening silence once more, where all that could be heard was the beating of my heart sounding like a loud drum, my heart rate was increasing minute by awful minute, second by pitiful second, as footsteps from outside made their way to the back doors where I, and the dead among me, were placed. The doors made me jump as they sprung open revealing a menacing-like figure. Whether it was a woman or a man it was hard to tell, I could only squint my eyes causing some accidental tears to escape. Trying to flee from the hard grasp of my kidnapper's hand, I blacked out. Everything. It just went black.

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*5 HOURS LATER*

It must have been hours since I last opened my eyes. I woke to the sound of intensely-loud banging and crashing. It took me a while to realise where I was. I was in some sort of run-down warehouse. I felt what seemed like, cold, wooden floorboards. Was I free at last? Maybe he'd forgotten about me. I hope so. But what kind of brave person really has hope? No one. 

I tried to stand up but my body was aching. My legs were weak and feeble from being on the floor for so long, but I'm a survivor. I forced myself up. My head span and swam like a whirlpool of the mind. The taste and smell of bitterness tingled my dry tongue and  taste-buds. I needed food. Note that key word-'needed'. I hadn't eaten in hours. I also needed something else. Revenge? Perhaps. I wanted to watch my kidnapper get the payment he deserved for taking an innocent, young teenager. But where was he? This old warehouse place  didn't seem too big. He must be close. I had an idea-evil, but genius. I found a lighter in my pocket. Creeping along the hallway, I followed the sound of the crashing and bashing. I flicked the lighter and gazed at the beautiful flames. I found him, and did what I had to do. Even if it meant me going down too. I wanted to watch him be dragged to hell.

As soon as he darted his head around at the noise of one of my single breaths, I didn't hesitate to throw the lighter at his direction.

I failed to notice the open oven, I went down too. In the blaze of the house. At least he was dead.