Darkness. And then light. A blinding light. Encapsulating me in a fulgid storm, a ravenous tsunami blanketing my existence with psychological manifestations of conscious thought.
Sickened by the all-consuming darkness of hypersomnia, I collapsed. Fell down, down into the abyss.
Hours seemed to have passed. Days, before I was able to move. A vast forest surrounded me, an expanse of trees gasping for oxygen in the deprived surroundings. The sky shrieked in pain as thunder roared from afar, a sonata of agony blanketing the air.
Rain? No, no, it couldn't be rain. Rain is soft, gentle in it's descent. No, this was something much more sinister.
Blood.
It was raining blood.
Viscous rubicund fluid brimmed within the atmosphere, launching itself to the ground with a fearsome plight.
A plight which would soon end with my demise.
Several hours had passed. Every precipice of my body had become corrupted with the rufescent sap of severity; asphyxiating me, drowning me, engulfing me in it's glutinous glory. I had given up.
Blood was increasing it's viscosity by the second, solidifying in my oesophagus, every breath a toil. I had no fight; nothing left inside.
And as my visage of incipient rigor turned cold, I heeded to the mighty omnipotence of death.
YOU ARE READING
When She Sleeps
HorrorLaina Moritz is a seventeen-year-old girl living inside a constant night terror. She sleeps for a week at a time, only awakening briefly each time to find herself estranged, in a blackened room furnished with a single bed. Each chapter is based upo...
