The Horrors of Our Mind [COMPLETED]

Itchy Skin

On a dark night, officer Regston was doing his nightly patrol around the city. While driving around he saw something scuffle in an alley way, which caused him to stop and park his car so he could inspect what was happening, in case of criminal activity. With his flash light in hand, Officer Regston slowly walked down the alley way, being cautious of potential danger. At the end of the alley way he could see something moving, but he couldn't tell what it was, it kept  changing shapes, almost fluid like. This striked Regston as odd, but he felt the need to see what was there.

When he finally arrived, he couldn't believe what he was seeing. It was a thick, tar-like substance that was as black as night. Bending down closer to get a better look at it, Officer Regston shined his flash light on the amoeba-like creature, which caused it to his and lurch at his face, enveloping him. The flash light dropped to the ground and flickered before it turned off. The officer clawed at whatever was attacking him, trying to get it off before he started suffocating. Somehow, he was able to pry the slippery unknown creature off of his face, and he threw it against the dumpster.

The unknown creature soon withered away into nothingness with a high pitched screech, leaving Officer Regston panting as if he were a dehydrated dog on a hot day. He picked up his flashlight and quickly got up, walking back to his patrol car. When he got inside his car, he pulled down the sun visor and looked at his face in the small mirror, there was no physical damage, but he did notice he was having problems breathing, which was most likely caused from the adrenaline and anxiety from what just happened.

Officer Regston quickly finished his nightly patrol shift, and then went home to see his mistress, his wife thought he had the graveyard shift. While he and his mistress were sitting on her couch watching some soap opera, he started having difficulty breathing once again, and his face and throat were unbearably itchy as if he had stuck his face in poison ivy. He started undoing his collared shirt, hoping that by doing so it would help him breathe, but he was wrong. Each passing second he was having more difficulty breathing, and soon he started clawing at his face and neck.

His mistress was horrified at what she was seeing, the one she loved was scratching off his skin, soon proceeding to peel it off. The couch around him was covered in blood and chunks of raw flesh. She hurried and dialed 911 to get an ambulance over to help her lover, but by the time they arrived, he was already dead, his face was exposing muscle and bone, and his throat was totally closed off.