Honor the Horrors of the Internet

Horror of R.PT4

There is a game she likes to play. I don't think it has a name, and if it does, she's never told me. Considering we have played at least once a week since I was 12, I'm 24, I imagine by now she would have mentioned it. But I digress.

I was just about 10 the first time she showed up. The Lady in Gray, that is. I came to call her that because no matter what time of night she appeared she always had this gray appearance to her; like she was the star of some old black and white movie. The first night she appeared, I was just a boy. I remember waking up for a glass of water and finding her hunched over in the corner of my dark room. The moon light coming through the cheap blinds on my wall was shining right on her face; almost like she had purposely placed herself in that position so that I would see her decaying face and her rotting teeth. I sat upright in my bed and let out what I can only describe as a blood-curdling scream. She sprang from the corner and rushed to my bed vigorously shaking her head and frantically waving her arms. I didn't know it at the time, but she was trying to tell me to shut up. The next thing I remember was a ray of light beaming into my room from the hallway as my dad burst into the room with a bat in hand. This routine happened over and over again for months. Now, I could spend several posts telling my story about how I came to know the Lady in Gray, and if there is interest I may do just that.

However, that is for another time because today I want to tell you about the game she likes to play; the game that I have played with her exactly 631 times.

It starts off the same every single time. I awake at exactly 3:01 AM. As I groggily rub my eyes, she rises from her place in the corner of the room. His face is gray and cracked from what I can only assume is decay. Her eyes, which are her darkest feature, lock onto me. I must be careful to avoid direct eye contact until I am prepared to start; messing up in the first round would of course result in harsher punishment. Once I feel prepared I lock eyes with her and she immediately stops advancing towards my bed. We stay like this. Her face doesn't move and her blackened, beady eyes don't even twitch. I strain in my tired state to meet her gaze, not even daring to blink. I made that mistake quite a few times, if I lose at this stage in her game she pounces. She jumps on the bed and wraps her long, broken fingers around my throat as I choke and gasp for air. I thrash and fight her, but she just cackles into the night. I am never strong enough to fight her off, and I always wake up at 4:01 sharp. Screaming in my sleep and drenched in a cold sweat. I've lost this way more times than I care to remember.

However, if we maintain eye contact for exactly 10 minutes, trust me I've checked, I get to move on. I always know the round is over by her expression. He dark and blank stare suddenly becomes brighter. She smiles wide displaying her rotten teeth, almost like she is happy to get to play another round of our game. This round is my least favorite of all. If I make it past the first round, she advances on me with her wide smile. She stops just about a foot shy of my bed and reaches out with her elongated arm. Her broken and crooked fingers motion for me to rise and take her hand.

I'll admit, it took several loses to get this part right, but the punishment that comes from losing in this round is less severe than first. If I fail to take her hand and follow her lead precisely, she screams. The word scream doesn't seem to do justice to the noise that escapes her lips. Howling like a wolf at the moon seems to be a more reasonable description. She screeches and screeches in my face until my ears bleed. Begging for it to stop, I again wake up at 4:01 sharp. This time muttering and begging in my sleep, but still awakening in a damp, cold sweat. However, if I take her hand and follow her lead she allows me to move on. I must precisely take her hand and rise.

It took some time to figure out what she desires next, but advancement through her game requires that I lean forward in a bow and kiss her outstretched hand. Just thinking about this makes me dry heave. I never notice the smell until right before my lips touch her dry, decaying, cracked skin. The smell is the worst part of the whole experience. She reeks like a decaying body that was sprayed by a skunk and left to rot for weeks in damp closet. But I can't throw up, if I do she releases her scream until I beg for death.

However, if I follow her lead, wherever she chooses to take me, and she deems my response appropriate, she leads me by the hand out of my darkened room. She pushes me forward into the light of the hallway, while she remains hidden in the darkness, slamming the door behind me.

Round 3, the final round has begun.

It took me years to discover what to do in Round 3. It wasn't until I was 16 that I made it this far without failing, but it took me another 4 years to get past this point in her game. You see round 3 is actually meant to be the most fun; round 3 is the world's most terrifying game of hide and seek. After the door shuts, I have exactly 60 seconds to hide. Doesn't matter where, although I've discovered I must remain inside the house, but that's a story for another time. I just have to hide. Round 3 is the final round of her little game, and it lasts the longest of all the rounds.

Now, at the time, I was still living at home. I was 20 years old with what my parents called "Night Terrors" and a dead end job, I really didn't have much choice.

I've hid in countless places. Closets, the crawlspace, the attic, the tub, under beds and couches, in cabinets, hell I even tried to squeeze into the oven once. I've never once won Round 3. She always finds me. I don't know if it's the length of time or I am just a poor hider, but she beats me every single time. Week after week and round after round. It doesn't matter how far I come or how close to 4:01 I get, she beats me. Somehow and someway she finds me. It's gotten to the point I am starting to suspect she cheats, but that doesn't really matter much. seeing as how it's her game.

She always finds me. It always starts the same way. Suddenly, the room gets cold, I start to see my breath as I desperately try to avoid shivering, careful to not make a sound. Then, any light that remained in my hiding place is extinguished as a foul smell fills the air around me. Almost, like she blew out the last candle lighting my way. I have to hold my breath to keep from vomiting the smell becomes so intense. Then I feel her, I feel her standing behind me. It doesn't matter where I've hidden or what wall I put to my back she is always behind me, breathing her foul, horrid breath down my neck, and she waits. She just stays there breathing and panting on my back, until the smell becomes unbearable, and I am sure I can't stand it a minute longer.

Then, just as I go to run away from my hiding space, she grabs me. She wraps her long, creaking arms around my body and whispers in my ear, "You lose". Before she pulls me back with her. Pulling me into a pit of darkness and despair. Finally, she lets go as I fall deeper and deeper into the abyss. I stay like that falling and falling for what feels like an eternity. The fear and the terror swallowing me up, as she cackles in the background. Laughing at me as I fall deeper and deeper, just allowed the fear to swallow me whole. Until I wake up screaming again at 4:01. This has happened once a week since I was 12. The night doesn't matter to her, but without fail she will appear wherever I am at 3:01. She wants to play her game, and I'm coming to realize that no matter what I do, or how hard I fight she will always win. I lost again last night, and I just pray that I can find the strength to play again next week.