Not Your Usual Scary Stories

Length of a Breath

Last of the Contest Entry stories from my other website. These were fun to have to work around the whole "include the word 250,000 in the story" challenge. Love me some challenges. Anyone have any other ideas for this? Perhaps I'll challenge YOU to write me a short story that must include 250,000 somewhere in it as well. Write a story around it. I darrrre you....but don't steal mine. haha. 

Also, point out the typos please. I'm bad at seeing them when I've gone over my stories a hundred times with sleepy eyes. 

My daughter is dying.

She's only two. A rare respiratory disease is rapidly taking her life. Every day her breathing grows weaker. Every night my wife and I fall asleep by her hospital bed listening to her steady rhythm, the only sign she isn't gone for good.

We've consulted every doctor, priest, and mystic known to man, but there is no cure. She will die, likely tomorrow.

I spend the night openly pleading with any diety that might hear me. My daughter is my entire world. If she dies, I think we will die with her.

Despite my efforts, I fall into a slumber, a prayer still on my lips.

To my great surprise, there is an answer.

I dream that I am in a darkened room all alone until the darkness condenses into a single shape before me. It's like nothing I've ever seen, pure black with long clawlike fingers. Only the glowing red light of its eyes give it a discernable head.

"I can save her," It says in a raspy voice. Deliriously, I fall to my knees, tears running down my face.

"But there will be a price. She will breathe 250,000 more times, but once the final one passes her lips, she's mine."

I don't trust this thing, but 250,000 breaths are more than she has left. That gives me time I don't currently have. Enough time to find a way out of the deal, or at least to hear her laugh one final time.

"I accept."

---

Moments later I'm woken by my wife, tears streaming from her eyes. My stomach sinks. Did she pass while I was dreaming? Did I miss her final moments?

Our daughter is sitting up in bed being inspected by several doctors.

"She's completely cured. They can't explain it. It's a miracle."

I jump to my feet and run to my girl, gathering her up in my arms. She giggles and reaches out to me, the same as she's always done.

I let myself believe it was all a dream before I see it.

Two red dots glow softly in the corner; watching, counting.

Suddenly I'm counting too. In, out, one. In, out, two.

"Doctor, how many times does a person breathe in a day?"

"On average, about 25,000."

25,000! That only gives me ten days! I thought I'd have more time than that!

"I have to go."

Everyone seems surprised, but there's no time to waste.

---

I spend days searching for a solution, but I find little. My wife is furious with me.

Every night I watch my daughter sleep. I'm not alone. The thing watches too. The red of its eyes give it away, inching closer and closer. If I listen close, I can hear it counting.

On the third night, I find myself covering my daughter's face with my hands, desperate attempts to slow her breathing. I try to teach her to hold her breath, but she doesn't understand.

The creature creeps closer. Only 175,000 to go.

On day five, my wife catches me holding her underwater in the bath. I want to explain, but 'There's a demon behind the toilet' really doesn't cut it.

On day seven I try to steal a ventilator, but I'm stopped at the door of the hospital.

On day nine my wife kicks me out.

The final night I break into my own house. I go to my daughter's room, red eyes shining on her headboard.

I approach her, knife in hand. One plan left.

I hold her down tightly and bring the knife to her throat. Her eyes snap open as I pierce the skin, cutting into her windpipe. I put a plastic straw in the wound, a soft whistle emanates from it.

The demon said the final breath had to pass her lips. I cover her mouth and nose.

My satisfaction doesn't last long. Police swarm in and pull me from my daughter. My wife screams hysterically as she pulls the straw free.

I fight with everything I have, but it's no use. They hold me back, and even worse, they're all looking right at me as long fingers slip from the shadows and grab her.

Her final breath is a gasp of surprise as she's pulled down into the darkness.

It's not too long until my final breath follows.

At my execution.