The land of mystery

Faceless Terror

Feet pounded heavily against the cold hard floor, the wooden surface letting out a sound of protest with each hard blow. Growls sounded, and terror conditioned to slam after the runner. Broken glass covered the floor in front of the now gaping hole of a once prestigious and beautifully stained glass window. Some of the large jagged edges were coated in a layer of fresh blood. While bloody foot and handprints sprinted away from the disarray.

Pews once sat in a coordinated order dictated by the righteous leaders and were now shoved off-center. Bloody handprints showcased against the freshly cleaned wooden backs. One of the Holy bibles was knocked from its pocket, the pages opened and trampled on in a haste. Pages are torn and scattered in the wind blowing from the shattered window.

Fast panting breaths fell from the mouth of the heavily wounded mortal, that was now crawling up the steps of the small congressional stage. Pulling themself along until they made it to the back wall, where they fell down on to their butt. Yanking out a handgun with shaking hands held it out in front of themself. While they validly tried to hold back a whimper of pain.

Growls and shouting could be heard from outside the small church the wounded mortal had taken up residence inside of. Hisses and sinister laughter echoed in from the broken window.

Shadows seemed to converge up to that once mosaic beauty. Those shadows let out hissing sinister whispers that made the cowering mortal shiver with fright, whatever language they spoke was not intelligible to the listener. Some kind of dark version of tongues, a mockery of the building that they sat in.

A being that was made of shadows and darkness oozed itself inside. The whispering shadows followed like loyal dogs, almost nipping at its heels. Ghostly howls and growls found themselves away inside, none of the apparitions having a solid body for the eyes to track.

Laughter, evil and chilling as it was; echoed throughout the whole building, ricocheting from the walls and taking on a life on its own. The whispering shadows quieted, but never stopped altogether. The howling and growling that had no shape lower itself in volume, making room for the solidarity of the haunting laughter.

The air itself was heavy inside the church, all the while it's very temperature dropped from its welcoming warmth into an inhuman chill that set their very teeth on edge. Goosebumps raced across their exposed flesh, biting in almost painfully.

"Nowhere to run." The being, while not having a mouth: Spoke onto the cowering bleeding mortal, it's words overlapping with the chilling laugher. Forcing the screeching like voice to pound at the mortal eardrums.

While not having a signal, some of the whispering shadows edged closer to the bleeding mortal.

The mortal shot off a few rounds from the handgun they had but it had no effects on the moving shadows. Who continued to creep forward in their slow crawl. The first one reached out to take hold of the mortal's hand and drag them back down the stairs for the shadowy and dark being.

While not having a solid form, the shadows' frigid and bony fingers clasped around the mortal's wrist: forcing them to drop the useless gun. While it began to haul them back down the three steps, the helpless mortals head hitting each step on the way down.

The mortal called out for help, they kicked at whichever being got too close and just before getting in range of the Darkness yanked free on the shadow.

While walking backward, trying to escape the nightmare-inducing forms and chilling soundtrack that played before them; push both hands back to their heavily bleeding midsection. The deep lacerations coving from one hip to the other, a large huck of glass was still embezzled inside their left hip, while smaller shards covered both palms.

Blood still spilled from the open wounds, making the mortal dizzy with blood loss. Even in the unnaturally cool room, their skin was slick with sweat, their uneven breaths picked up in pace once again.

"No" cried the mortal, their voice while in itself loud was swallowed by the cacophony happening inside the small dwelling.

All the same, it was heard, and it was wrong.

"Yes" shouted the Darkness without a face, without a mouth. The shadows picked up the singing chant, their language weaving in between the word. Sounding hauntingly similar to a child's nursery rhyme.