Evangeline

Nightmare Scape

The sound of the barely awake city is a sound you have to train your ear to hear. It’s one that you never thought would exist. After the final passing of drunks on the street below at 2:26am is when it begins. The lights housed in other windows of the tall apartment buildings lining the boulevard, slowly begin to fade out until the billboards are the only source of illumination, save for the moonshine.

Sitting ever still in front the floor to ceiling window, clutching a red chipped mug absorbing the warmth between her hands. Cozying up in a military green, cable-knit sweater and black underwear, her night coloured hair draped over her right shoulder as she looks down to the tiny street lamps hidden in a fuzzy haze below. Her evergreen eyes reflecting the moon light. She may have been looking at the street lamps but her mind was anywhere but.

Apartment 13b on the top floor, floor 13, her lucky number. Evangeline remembered the first time she saw this apartment. The walls had hideous floral wallpaper, all shades of piss yellow, dead greens and badly aged powder pinks.
Covering the gorgeous cedar wood floors, that are now bare, was a faux fur carpet. It was originally grey, supposedly, but looked more like a dissipated brown from the amount of liquor, dirt and nicotine that was housed inside the follicles.
The furniture and drapes walked straight out of the seventies, but looked about a century old. Thin, and had holes chewed in them from decades of moths. The fake mauve silk was stained a dull rust orange, and smelled like red wine.
None of the colours matched in the apartment. There was no colour scheme involved, or so it seemed.
The couch was a violent red with weird greying stains; the chairs, ugh, those chairs, one of them was striped purple and dark orange, the other was blue with all sorts of coloured dots on it.
The tables and shelves, if you could have even called them that, were all but falling in on themselves. It was very obvious that it was only a short matter of time until they were just piles of rotting wood, taking up space.  

Sure, it was horribly heinous, but the vibe it held was irreplaceable.
It felt like the entire apartment had a story to tell.

She daintily stood to her height of 5’3” and walked to her kitchen sink. She gently set the mug on the counter to the left side of the basin. Careful, so as to not crack her favourite mug more.

She sat down in front of the window again, she had an odd feeling. Looking down where the street lamps once resided, she found trees. Tall cedars surrounding the base of the apartments. No more haze. Making it nearly impossible to see the cobblestone path on the north east side. She followed the multi colored rocks with her eyes and saw a small graveyard embedded in a clearing of the trees.

An uneasy feeling gripped her chest, until she found herself standing, pressed fully against the window, wide eyed and breathing shallowly.

“B-but… where’d the city go? I-I was in the city!” she whispered, panickedly to herself.

A gentle crack sounded throughout the dusty apartment. It edged on Evangeline's mind but couldn't pull her away from the window.
She continued to panic and ramble aimlessly.

A louder crack sounded, the glass spidered up to her eyes until it reached to the top of the glass. Looking like Jack Frost had suddenly decided that winter was here, in early August.
She was stuck, something glued her to the window, unable to allow her movement.

The window shattered. Giving way, as she was free falling from the building. She wanted to scream, but the air rushing past her was blocking her from doing so.

She closed her eyes knowing that when she opened them she would be safe, away from the shards of glass encasing her as she fell and awake from this nightmare that was gripping her harshly.

She opened her eyes to the last sight she ever wanted to see. She was plummeting towards the ground, more specifically, a grave, one with an open coffin residing inside.

She squeezed her eyes shut, and felt her organs jump up to her throat, feeling hollow. But, her stomach felt as if it had become a butterfly reserve.

She felt a smooth, soft surface against her body, but an absence of pain. However, there were solid borders leaving her with very little room. She rolled onto her back, and realized she was placed in the coffin. The top closed with a harsh bang, followed by a few moments of quiet.

Evangeline was too shocked to move or call out. Nothing was registering.
Suddenly, there was a noise coming from over her that sounded like grains of rice being poured on the surface of a table and scattering.
She screamed, but nothing came out, she couldn’t even cry.

She tried to move her arm, but something shot out and gripped it harshly. It felt like an old woman’s scraggly hand. It was digging so hard it felt like knives forcing their way into her skin. Immediately her entire body was covered by these…”hands”.
She was pinned to the interior of the coffin, the hands digging into her skin, nearly ripping her apart. She felt blood start to gush from her face, then promptly passed out.

🐘