Did ya hear that?
- Reads 86
- Votes 3
- Parts 6
*Click*
The sound of the light turning off. You slide into your bed. The warm covers make you feel safe. You engulf yourself with the inviting warmth until a sound startles you.
*Creak* *Creak*
You take the covers off of your head. You sit up and peer into the darkness that is your room. "Maybe it's just those old wooden floors acting up again", you say to yourself. You lay back down trying to find the same comfort you felt before. You then turn around and peer your eyes into sockets. Someone's eye sockets. The creature facing you shows you a teeth less smile before your scream fills your room.
People might ignore the sounds they hear in the dark and pass them off as nothing. But what happens if those sounds are actually the terrifying creatures you don't believe in?
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#917
paranoia
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this story is about a scientist in Antarctica slowly losing his sanity I can feel the corners of my lips tug upwards and before I know it, I'm cackling. My laughter rings through the empty room, bouncing off the walls as I double over in hysterics. Despite the dire situation, I can't seem to stop. With each passing second, my giggles become more uncontrollable, more manic. As I catch my breath, I try to reassure myself. "Everything will be fine," I tell myself, punctuating my sentence with another bout of laughter. "Because, because!" I repeat, and my voice breaks into another round of giggles. But soon, my mirth turns to misery as my laughter becomes sobs. I collapse on my hands and knees, tears streaming down my face until they blur my vision. The tears burn my skin, adding to my anguish. I can't even cry in peace, can't even surrender to my despair without feeling physical pain. "Oh god, I ruin everything Johnny- I'm sorry!" I cry out, my voice cracking. "I'm supposed to keep care of you and I'm sorry! I'm so sorry Johnny!" I scream, pounding my fists on the cold, hard floor in frustration. It's no use. Nothing can save me. I feel my tears freezing on my face and I quickly dry them with the back of my hand. I crawl over to the fire, seeking warmth and comfort. But there's no comfort to be found.
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