Time For Teletubbies: A Lovecraftian Horror

Chapter V

     Jacob opened his eyes. The moon still ruled the sky. His bedroom was completely black. But it was not empty. That much – despite all of its apparent ridiculousness – he knew for an absolute fact. Patterns. Patterns everywhere. Circling. Disturbing. Intensifying. Mortifying. The dreamworld had seeped its way into the daytime. The dream. Oh, that dream, the most thoroughly horrid of visions. No longer would he have the privilege of forgetfulness.

     A presence patiently observed him somewhere in the recesses of the darkness. Watching. Waiting. He tried to get up to take comfort in the light. His body refused to follow his commands. More memories started seeping into his tired mind. Ghastly things. Gruesome things. Things far beyond all comprehension. His heart started pumping with overwhelming strength. Every bit of air within his lungs seemed to spontaneously disappear.

     A blinding light broke through his curtains. Most of the room refused to be illuminated. His accursed coat hanger, however, as much of an ugly nuisance as ever, glistened gleefully. Jacob rolled his eyes. It was surprising he was even able to. So that was it for his tortures. He was alright. Air returned to his lungs. The world began to get back into the regular swing of things. Until, that was, a soft voice spoke some indecipherable words to him in a hauntingly childish tone.

     The light that had been shining into his room immediately went away. The sporadic whispering of the childish voice turned into an incessant chanting. The voice itself turned into two. And three. And four. The dreamworld had returned. Reality ceased to be real. The faint presence he had felt before slowly took shape. A silhouette. A smile. A row of knife-like teeth.

     From all four corners of his room came these blood lusting beings. But they needed not attack. Jacob was going to tear himself to shreds with or without their help. His eyes began to water. Bruises began appearing on every inch of his battered body. He felt around his pelvis. Where there had once been his pride, he only felt his blood. A metal speaker broke through his carpet and turned to face him. Gusts of wind chilled him to the bone. Flashes of light illuminated the room and then plunged it back into the darkness thousands of times a second. His hands and arms started spasming violently at his sides. A finger crashed into his headboard. A disgusting crunching noise. Searing pain assumed control. Panic. Madness. Hopelessness. Words. Words; comprehensible, English words. At last.

     "Bye-bye!"

     Blackness.