It's a Ghoul's World

The Ghouling Hour

Waking up and being completely unaware of one's surroundings is one of the worst feelings ever.

It was a  grey world with little colour. The colours that were present  were very subdued hues. Deep shades of red were dull and very much present everywhere. The draped canopy over the bed seemed ancient, like it was from another time. Like I was in another time.

A female, about nineteen with long blonde kinky hair and dark chocolate skin with muddy brown eyes came into my room and said "Oh, good you're awake. You can help out some now"

In my head I knew her vaguely but I couldn't access the memories. I couldn't say where I knew her from. just that I knew her from somewhere and she was somehow someone I could trust and had trusted in the past. At least that was what I was telling myself. At the same time I didn't feel like I belonged there, and I don't mean in the house I was in I meant that world, It felt odd, like I wasn't meant to be there.

I followed her out to 'help out some', we walked down a long dimly lit corridor which seemed to have the strange lack of colour I noticed in the room I had awoken in; very deep reds that were very dull and a very apparent greyscale. We then approached what I could only describe in my limited knowledge as a Victorian-esque staircase which as I found out moments later opened into a great hall that was decorated with weird findings in the same strange shades.

It felt wrong. I could feel the danger approaching.

There was a doll with crazy black hair that stuck out everywhere and was dressed in black rags with some insignia painted white on the front of her shirt of rough material; only it wasn't a doll because it moved and talked. "Hurry up we need to get ready before it starts," she said.

I moved around fluffing carpets and spreading a powdered substance on all the material that was higher than the floor. Somehow I knew that was what I was meant to do and both the girl and the moving, talking doll seemed pleased that I had remembered what I was meant to do. I didn't, I was just doing something. When I had completed my 'chores' the girl then began to flatten the doll on a roller which transported her flattened body to a rope hung on the front porch of the house.

In terror I asked " What are you doing?"

She was shocked by my question, and looked at me puzzled then glanced outside and exclaimed with a bit of fear in her voice and her facial expression "It's the Ghouling Hour," then ran out the door of the hall down a corridor frantically.

When I had caught up to her she was leading an old man with white hair sticking out in all directions, unfocused eyes and a facial expression that didn't make it seem like he was present inside that kitchen. When I glanced behind her I saw human figures and ethereal looking human figures approaching the door which she quickly shut. What I remembered seeing were that they were scary looking, but somewhat beautiful. They walked in staccato steps, that made them seem dangerous. They staggered at the steps on the patio and their eyes seemed to bore holes into my body.

"It's the Ghouling hour," she repeated with finality in her voice. An hour shouldn't last that long.

The shades in the world darkened, or, maybe it was just me.

I didn't feel scared, just resigned.

We were safe. For now.