Thriller Short Stories

The Dream

          It was my first day as graveyard manager, and I already was dreadfully nervous for it even though it is one of the simplest jobs I ever heard of. The last person to do this job was about to retire, and his name is Thomas Gill. As he was explaining my job, I could not hear his incoherent, thick accent; even with my acute hearing from my hearing aids.
           After he finished speaking his speech of rules, he said to me, "Got that all?" I nodded my head even though I knew nothing of what to expect. Afterward, he continued, "You will come here tomorrow and start your job. Now, I expect you to watch out for..." and the rest of his sentence was in his accent, so I understood nothing of his warning. His face wore a serious yet scared feature, and he limped off with his crane in his hand; his knuckles were now white from the grip.

        That night, I had terrible nightmares. Next to me, I had my dream journal, where it held all of my fears, hopes, and tears, so I wrote the one down nightmare that had repeated itself for over three months now. It has haunted me day and night; in my imagination during the day and in my nightmares at night. Every single night I see a man with just one pale blue eye in, and the other eye hung from its last strand. He towered over me eventually, increasing in size each second. My heart races everytime, speeding up, until I feel it pounding against my rib cage. I always drop down to the floor and scream,"Stop!" constantly, until I get eaten alive or burn alive-in a graveyard.
             Even my sagacity over the years of deciphering my dreams and paranormal encounters has not helped me with this. It has reoccured so many times that I went to therapy, but then I realized that my insurance doesn't cover it; and it has not help yet.
           My alarm clock rung an obnoxious ring that awakened me to the fullest max that I sat up and bang my head against the wall. I got ready for my new job and started to walk the three block walk.

          Opening the gate to the graveyard, I saw a group of teenagers. The fog circles around me, so I take out a flashlight I found in my garage since  my phone lost all its power. Then I call out, "Hey, young rascals of the devil, scram!"
I then heard shuffling and murmurs of troublesome teenagers coming closer to the gate, but instead of hearing laughter, I heard screeching voices of teenagers in distress. Rushing towards the gate, I saw a large figure towering over the fallen group of teenagers. It was growing and growing each second, and I saw something hanging out of its eye. Patiently, it stood waiting for an answer like mine in my dreams that have come true, any verbal sound of more terror from more fearful humans; waiting for children to sleep and dream of it; waiting for its prey.
           As it bend down, about to eat the children, who had so much to live for,  I saw its back. The back of this figure was hideous, torn clothing that looked to be from the 1920's, and its skin wrinkled and corpse-like. It must be my imagination. It must be. I repeatedly thought in my head.
          Suddenly, one of the teenagers yelled, "Please, don't hurt us. I-I did it. I-I killed the man. Please, please, don't hurt my friends. They did nothing! It was all me!" The monster stopped, in mid-bite, and pulled the one child away from the rest and ate him. It has left the children and I shocked. We just stood there, in shock. The monster then slowly shrunk and walked away, but before it shrunk into non existence, it told me, just me, in a snake-like voice, "You're next." It then disappeared into the grass of the graveyard.

          "Mr. Smith that is what happened to me last week, my first day as the graveyard manager, in the Springsville Cemetery. Am I mad?" I said.

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Okay! This was one my very first stories I have written on Wattpad. I hoped you liked.

Stay indecisive everyone!