Trapped

A winged creature flew across the blood red sky. It came to rest on a broken turret, spread its wings menacingly, lifted its head and uttered a bone-chilling cry into the evil heavens. In the distance came its reply. Dark shadows fluttered rakishly, like fish darting in murky waters. It was a living nightmare.

Behind a huge dustbin, near an old boarded-up house, a small man crouched watching. Next to him lay an axe and on his shoulder hung a bag. His face was a face that showed fear, exhaustion and apprehension. It was all-knowing yet blinded by cowardice. His eyes were wary with a look that said, I know I'm in a nightmare.

The man was hurriedly punching numbers into a mobile. He had no signal since he had entered the nightmare. He had been too frightened to try. Angrily, he threw the phone onto the floor pulling a small flask of clear liquid from his pocket. He drank a little then placed it back. He glanced at the phone again. It was risky, the light might be seen in the darkness, shadows were watching. He decided to try anyway, he listened to the crackling as he brought the phone to his ear. Nothing. He turned it off. Immediately a shadow started to stalk over to where he was. The man cursed and ran over to the next bin.

He peered over the bin. With a snarl a shadow ran towards him. He scrambled up, running down the alleyway, he had seen the shadow and there were more in pursuit.

Lurching into an abandoned house he came to a halt behind a chair. Breathlessly, he listened. Nothing. He looked around making out figures in the darkness. Two chairs, a table, a ledge over the fireplace. His skin tingled. He walked over to the fireplace keeping his eyes on the doorway. Slowly he lifted the overturned photo frame, gasping as his eyes made out the picture.

His eyes widened as he recognized himself standing next to a short blond. Frantically he overturned more photos recognizing them all. Rushing over to the window he glanced out recognizing the familiar street.

"It's her house!" he whispered somehow shouting at the same time, his breathing shallow.

He froze as a shadow passed by, merging with another. He swore and dropped the curtain, turning and rushing out to where he remembered the kitchen to be. Fumbling about in a drawer he retrieved a torch. He then walked into the hallway back over to the sitting room.

His heart quickened painfully in his chest as he heard the drawing breaths of a shadow. (His heart had only moved like this one time before and that was for her) footsteps. Coldness swept over him. It was time. He reached down and picked up the axe that lay next to the firewood. His hands were annoyingly sweaty. He backed away from the doorway, willing himself out of the nightmare.

"Come on!" he pleaded, not liking how feeble he sounded.

When he opened his eyes, he was still trapped. Continuing to back away he tripped on an unseen object of the floor, clutching his knee he rolled about in pain and agony. Not just from the fall but also from frustration. This had gone on too long. He looked up as the shadow entered. The red slits bored into his face. He shuffled back against the wall.

"I want out!" he yelled trying to sound as defiant and confident as he could. He guessed they could smell weakness.

"Well you could, if you can find your sleeping self and awaken it? Then this whole situation would be over." The shadow swept its arm like limb over the surroundings, scrawling out the words mockingly. The things could speak?

It moved closer to the man.

Standing up quickly and with a loud bellow he lunged forward with the axe. The shadow's slits widened in shock which turned to glee as the man tripped over once again. Rising shakily to his knees, in pure anger and rage, he lifted the axe high above his head, bringing it down heavily upon the object on the floor. The shadow stopped approaching.

"Oh dear, oh dear, look at what you have done. Makes this job easier for me!" A face appeared in the shadows hooded eyes, it's voice changed. A voice he remembered, a face he remembered...her face, her voice. It all made sense now. What better way to be tortured in a nightmare than by the one you loved?

The man shivered as he felt something warm and slimy flow past his bare feet. The shadow swooped past him out the window causing him to shrink away.

"Trapped forever!" It echoed, looking to trap another poor unfortunate soul.

The man picked up the torch he had dropped in his failed attempt at an attack. He turned it on and swung it around to shine upon a peaceful face sleeping on the floor. A face that he had tripped over, and killed.

A face that he recognized as his own.