I was happy to finally come to Vaskovf. My home. I grew up in an orphanage near by, but was glad to get out. I still got nightmares from the time I lived there, but never really remembering them when i got up.
Vaskovf was a peaceful place, covered with snow most of the year...but peaceful. You'd get a sense of calm just by being here. Thus the reason I was out here in the middle of this frozen forest in a tent.
Taking a last drag from the joint,I stubbed it on the ice and went back inside. The light was so dim, I never could figure out if it was normal or going out. Deciding to leave it like that, I snuggled into my sleeping bag and shut my eyes. And before I knew it, I had fallen asleep, and was running for my life again.
This nightmare, I was having the nightmare again. Why does this keep happening to me? Why can't I ever remember what happens in this nightmare? I'm running through my orphanage and I can't remember from what...but I'm really scared. Running upstairs, I opened the first door I see...The broom closet. Placing my hand on my mouth, I try to control my breathing. I can feel my heart pounding in my chest. Carefully, I look through the keyhole, trying to see who was chasing me, something...Anything.
My scream gets stuck in my throat as I felt hands around me. A voice so raspy, I could feel it rubbing against my skin, screamed "knock knock" and pulled me in with it.
I woke up shaking and sweating. A sense of relief passed washed over me, as I realised I was in my sleeping bag, safe and sound. Lying back down I tried to calm my racing heart, when I noticed the light had gone out. Seems like it was going out after all.
I closed my eyes and listened to the wind howling outside the tent. That is when I felt hands on my mouth and something whispered in my ear..."knock knock".
Alright, so this was originally my first short story. I know it's my third horror story, but keep a look out for other genres. Please comment and follow. Constructive criticism is always appreciated.
