short horror stories

Nightmare

          tw: murder, mentions of rape, gore.

    I'm welcomed to the sight of darkness, only slightly brightened by a flickering of a candle. As I attempt to sit up on the damp pavement, I'm restrained by the cold chains wrapped around my wrists and ankles. A cool breeze fills the air, giving me chills. As I lift my head to look down at my chest, only covered by the undergarments I wore to sleep. I freeze, replaying last night's events in my head. Could I have been-

    The thought is interrupted by the sight of someone walking towards me with a small candle, maybe a hundred yards away. I begin to scream for help, unable to hear myself given my inability to hear anything. The person stomps their foot, sending vibrations I felt through the floor. More people begin to emerge themselves from the shadows, lit candles in their hands as well. The red cloaked figures begin to walk towards me, all having one arm behind their back.

    Their mouths begin to move in unison, walking towards me eerily. The terrifying figures begin to slow down, showing what they were hiding behind their backs, a knife. I freeze as the candles near me catch fire spontaneously brightening the symbol on the wall next to me, it's a pentagram. As I begin to thrash and scream in the restraints desperately trying to escape, one of the hooded figures pins me down, gagging me with a cloth.

     I look up at pale hooded figure flipping through a voluminous book, another  pentagram on the leather cover. Tears formed in my eyes as I looked at the concrete ceiling. As the tear fell, the final hooded figure licking their lips, bent down to taste my tears. The tears of fright that fell only seemed to please them more.

    The figures began to unhood themselves, showing their slightly tanned faces. The two of the three hooded men begin to grab the knives they had shown me moments before. I began to sob violently, giving them a pleading face, but they just smiled sinisterly as they crouched down. As I looked back up to the man with the book, he began to move his mouth eagerly. I was going to die and couldn't do anything to save myself.

    As I turned my head back to my torso, a raging pain rushed through my body, causing me to arch my back in pain. The tannest of the men had begun to dig the knife into my skin, creating an entirely straight line from my sternum to my navel. Blood pouring onto my skin, the blood dripped down to the concrete, every single drop of blood caused more torment.

    As I lay there watching my own skin be cut open, a final hooded figure came from the shadows holding another candle and a large butcher knife. The figure began to take off their hood, revealing a battered woman, a bruise covering her right eye. As she walked towards me, giving me a numb facial expression, the man behind me began to carve into my arm. Thrashing in my restraints as I bawled from the pain.

      I woke up in a panic, starting to sit up, but there was one problem, I couldn't. I was retrained to damp pavement, the same damp pavement from the nightmare. The same chains retraining me to the pavement. And the same red hooded figures emerging from the shadows.