Tendrils- A Completed Horror Story

Tendrils

Fall was always my least favorite season, despite how much I love the cool weather and burning the tip of my tongue on hot cider. I was known as being easily frightened, which meant October was a month of relentless tourture from my classmates, who's delighted snickers rung in my ears as I hid in the stall of a bathroom, bawling my eyes out like a crybaby as hot sticky tears smeared across my cheeks, hiding from those who seeked to bathe in my pain and fear. They all knew how to get me, how to grind at my gears and push me towards my breaking point, and it was working.

It had always been this way for years, Halloween being a period of torture and constant anxiety for me since my eighth year, and I hated it. I hated it so much.

It had started after my friend, Kestin, had scared me as a joke, leaving a fake spider sitting atop my stuff in my locker. When I opened it I had screamed like a child, tripping over a girl standing behind me in the hall, cheeks painted red with embarrassment, and from that point on people toyed with my fears by dropping spiders down my shirt or leaving rubber snakes in my shoes. Although it was a constant torment for most of the year it was worse in fall, when shop windows were decorated with grotesque creatures. I had never blamed Kestin, of course, because he didn't mean any harm. I just wish he hadn't scared me like that. Maybe things would have been a little better, but I doubt it, as I had just painted myself as an easy target.

I hated fall.

Today something hung in the air, and I was sure it was one of those days where I would be locked in the utility closet with a life-sized zombie or pushed into a spider web spun in one of the grotesque gym lockers and locked in tight, a twinge that annoyed me as I walked into school.

Sure enough, right after I had finished 5th period a group of boys sauntered up to me as I stood at my locker, and I buried my head in it, trying to disappear.

"What're you doing, Sammy-boy?" The front man joked, placing a rough hand on my shoulder and earning a wave of deep chuckles. I didn't know his name, but one could assume it was Brick. This made me laugh a little, and it slipped out like a squeak. He stared me dead in the eyes, grabbing the collar of my shirt and slamming me against the locker, my head banging against the metal and throbbing in pain, sending me into a state of nausea.

"What's so funny, scaredy-cat?" I squirmed against his grip, the collar of my dress shirt pressed against his throat, causing me to choke, spluttering.

"Nothing, sor-" I broke off into a coughing fit, my head throbbing even more. He smirked, staring me dead in the eyes and keeping me suspended against the locker with one hand.

"Is that so?" He laughed, and I nodded slightly, hoping it would help me out a bit. He turned to another boy in the group, who I could identify as Ryan. "What do you think, Ry?"

"Beat him." Ryan said coldly, looking over to me. He could see I was staring at him, and I glanced away quickly.

"Aw, that's no fun. Let's scare him, shake him up a bit," said "Brick," and I let out a shuddering sigh of relief, although he didn't seem to notice it.

The rest of the group loomed over me, as I had always been a shorter boy.

"Brick" dropped my collar, and I fell to the ground, tailbone aching from the fall, before scooping me up off the ground and carrying me off, hanging me over his shoulders without a care, like he had just stolen a doll from a young child, and causing the group of boys behind him to cackle in delight. I pounded my fists against his back, but it was pointless, my scrawny muscles failing me once again, and so I was carried helplessly to an unused office at the back of the school.

I was cursed with bad luck, which today came in the form of the boys knowing a path to the back of the school out of range of the "vigilant eagle-eyed" teachers who prowled the rest of the school. I rolled my eyes, wishing Mr. McNeil or Mrs. Gretchen would come around the corner. Heck, I wouldn't even care if it was Mr. Kathrine, because at least he would have to help.

He dropped me to the floor roughly, sprinting out before I could even manage to right myself and slamming the door shut on me, the darkness enveloping the stream of light spilling in through the doorway in seconds. I flipped over on the cold tiling, looking around at the near empty room, and felt panic flutter in my chest, taking deep breaths as my chest burned with anxiousness. It was nearly pitch black, the only light slipping in through under the door, and even that was nearly blocked by the boys standing right outside the door. I heard the lock on the room rustle, footsteps and loud chuckles retreating off into the distance as I was met with silence. I knew I was going to be here for a long while, as the office was in the back of the school, tucked by the other abandoned classroom.

This wing was supposed to be closed off from the rest of the school and demolished, but they fell flat, running out of money to demolish it, constantly holding fundraisers to raise at least a handful of cash, so it made the empty classrooms an easy place to hide bodies, or to scare the living daylights out of wimps like me.

I wondered if there were any bodies in one of these old classrooms. Judging by the smell and the people who hung around here I wouldn't doubt it.

I surveyed the room, and it seemed empty until I walked over to a corner. A flimsy plastic skeleton was lying in the corner, propped against the wall, painted with lazy splats of red paint. Despite being obviously fake I still let out a little shriek, humoring the bullies, despite the fact that they couldn't hear anyways. They seemed to be getting lazy, but I knew it was just to lure me into a false sense of them giving up.

"Seriously?" I thought, sighing, but I was cut off by a clicking sound coming from the ceiling. I flinched, slowly looking up at the ceiling in an almost numb state. Something scuttled down the wall and onto the ground before me, skin seeming to drip off its form as it tilted it's bug-eyed head at me, clicking at me.

It was grotesque, seeming like a humanoid mixed with some sort of insect, a mess of sickening tendrilly limbs. Its skin hung from its flesh, and I thought if I had dug my fingernails into it the skin would peel off like a wet label.

I shuddered at the thought of it's pasty skin peeling away to reveal the raw bleeding flesh beneath, and I felt sick to my stomach, unsure if this was still just a cruel prank, or if this thing before me was real.

It clicked at me, the sound springing from the grinding of it's human teeth, and it made me shudder. Buggy eyes stared dead into my soul, seeming to glow as the many panes of the eyes reflected the light from under the door, and I felt my breathing grow short, heart pounding in my chest, and I thought I might die. I tried to force out a scream, but I was paralyzed in fear, numb with shock.

It began to click again, the sound reverberating inside me and making the hair on the back of my neck stand up, cold sweat dripping down my forehead. I watched in horror as it lifted up a ridged fleshy leg in the air, driving it straight into my chest, spearing through flesh and bone, and I felt dizzy.

A searing pain raced through me, but adrenaline managed to keep me slightly conscious, and I was forced to watch as it pulled the clawed tendril away, dripping with blood, a hunk of flesh and organs hanging off the end of the pale skin-toned claw. I screamed, but blood spilled into my throat, cutting me off and sending me into a spit of weak gurgly coughing as the taste of blood overwhelmed my senses. I coughed again, blood welling up and spilling down my chin as it flooded my lungs, coloring my pale skin red, the smell of copper filling the air.

I was too terrified to look down at my chest, to see what had been punctured as the creature had speared into my torso, tearing something away and flinging it aside. It let out a low screech, emitting more clicking sounds, and I knew it was the end, pain screaming in my ears as blood continued to pour out of my mouth and drip from the edges of the gaping hole in my stomach.

I felt sick, so sick, and insanely dizzy. It was obvious I wouldn't be making it out of here alive, my lungs and other organs punctured and dripping with crimson blood and other bodily fluids.

I couldn't do anything but watch as it shook off its claw once more, staring at me in an almost humane matter, my blood splattering on the walls and floor of the empty office, and, in a horrible taunting irony, onto the plastic skeleton in the corner. It screeched, bringing another tendril back down in my chest for one last moment of searing pain in my abdomen as my world faded to black, the last things I heard being the sounds of organs being punctured and blood dripping onto the tiles of the office floor, my breathing being cut short.

~The End~