The Library

The old street musician

A short horror story I wrote.

TW: Short horror story, faeries I guess. they can be pretty creepy

The room is filled with the welcoming aroma of hot freshly made coffee. I'm sitting on one of the café tables, the one in the corner with the best view out of a big window.

The room is filled with the sounds of the coffee machines boiling, the soft sound of people whispering and my quick tapping on my laptop's keyboard.

I work as a translator and prefer to do my work in cozy places like this one, as do many others.

After a couple of hours a group of teenagers enter. They seem to change the atmosphere that was previously here, now instead of calm, working people, some of them get irritated.

The teens are quite loud and don't really seem to care about others, but I well, I honestly don't care. I'm more annoyed at the people hissing like cats and sighing like they are nearing their last day.

The group takes a table close to me and start talking in excited voices, mostly about school and friends.

Then suddenly the girl with pigtails points out of the window.

She is pointing across the street to an old street musician. I have seen him quite often here, I think he might always be sitting there. Whenever I give him some coins or just listen to him plays he always gives me this sad smile. It always makes me wonder how he got there. I have never even heard him uttering a single word, he is always silent, but plays wonderfully. It makes the city all the more livelier.

"Isn't that guy a bit creepy?" He just sits there all day and probably all night only making music."

A girl with a blue dress answers: "Yeah, I think so too. Why do you think that is?"

A boy with a green shirt cut's in: "Isn't it obvious, he is probably sitting there to ensure his alibi."

The boy in red laughs: "What? Do you mean to say that, this old man is secretly something like a serial killer?"

"That's so creepy..." Pigtails shares.

"Why else would he be there? Aren't most homeless criminals?" Green asks.

"What if he is waiting for his long lost family to finally return?" Blue says, seemingly unsure of her own answer.

"Nah, that's too good to be true, he has to have been at least a criminal at some point. Probably just a drunkard or a drug dealer." Red shares with confidence.

Then their conversation starts getting to a lot of other topics, I don't care about and try to continue my work.

Unfortunately, they only seem to get louder and I decide it's time to take a break and leave the café to wander off somewhere in the city.

Somewhere I buy a new agenda, the year is almost over anyway and I still don't have a new one.

After wandering around and browsing countless shops for hours, I notice it getting darker outside. It is of course almost winter, so I decide to walk to the bus stop to go home.

On my way back there I walk past the old musician, still playing beautifully on his old and beaten up accordion. His cold hands moving skillfully over the right keys.

I stop, search my pockets for some spare change. Yep, I still got some on me.

I turn around and gently put some coins in the basket. They make a small clinging sound as they all reach the bottom.

As I want to walk away, the man suddenly stops playing.

Then he speaks.

"Young lass, please listen. There is something important you need to hear."

I turn to face him: "Sure, I still have some time to kill, anyway."

His face seems slightly more panicked than normal.

"I know it's gonna sound like an old man's ramblings, but please. Spare me a bit of ye'r time."

I nod and take a step closer.

"I need ye to get away from here and never return. Ye've always been a very kind lass, when ye pass by you always pay attention and ye always seem to look out for others too."

He seems to be having a difficult time telling me. He's fidgeting and sweat appears on his forehead.

"Young lass, du'n listen to the faeries."

I'm kind of shocked, but I don't want to judge him either. I will let him talk, he clearly needs it of his mind. Not that I believe everything, but I won't let him know.

"I know I sound like a crazy old gee-"

"Don't worry, I'm be listening."

"Thanks"

There is that sad smile of his again.

"In a few days, maybe even tonight this place will cease to exist. Hundreds of years ago the people built this city on a faery village, ruined it, burned it to the ground. Then made this city with their ashes. Of course the faeries were angry at the people, war between the two raged for years till one day a musician came forward. He was able to play so bloody good that he could make the faeries sleep.

When he died his son took over and the son after and so on. I am the last musician, when my day comes, dear lass, this city will be gone. There won't be a musician anymore to keep the faeries asleep. And my day is approaching at great speed, since ye'r the kind soul that always sticks around, I want you to be save. So please lass, leave and never come back. Because when you do, you too will be taken."

I look at him, not sure what to say or do.

This short moment of silence feels like an eternity. "Alright, I won't return."

"Ye promise, lass?"

"I promise."

"Good, that makes this old man happy to hear."

I give a short nod. "Well, my bus could be here any second now, so I will be going. Goodbye sir. Take care."

"Farewell to ye too, lass. Thank you for listening and understanding!"

We wave, say our goodbyes and I leave for the bus stop, I'm there just in time and can hop on immediately.

After paying the driver I walk to sit in the back of the vehicle.

As the bus starts driving, I stare out of the window. Watching the illuminated city by the many yellow lighted lanterns.

Then when we pass the old musician, just before we take a right turn. I see it.

In a flash, I see what the man meant.

My blood freezes.

The old man is lying on the ground, arms and legs in horrifying, impossible positions. Broken most likely.

There is blood, a lot of it and... Something is standing next to him.

All I can say is, that's definitely not a human being.

The arms are too thin, almost branch-like.

It has glowing eyes.

Oh God...

It has seen me...

Delivery

A short horror story I wrote:)

Word count: 1757

TW: Gore, psychological horror

Click, click, click, thunk!

It could not comprehend what it saw above us.

A scarlet red sky greets us as we finally left the dusty old warehouse.

Dark buildings casted their shadows over the old and empty streets, only letting red light stream into view at specifical parts, showing what I wish not to see, almost like a spotlight on a stage.

To be honest I’m glad that the package I have to deliver can walk by itself. The thing would be way too heavy to carry.

Standing slightly shorter than an adult, this porcelain-looking (I don’t know, I’m not the collector, might be porcelain after all) automaton, is the object I’m meant to deliver.

Since the world has gone to hell, I’ve been doing deliveries for people with money and resources that are too scared to get stuff by themselves.

It’s a dangerous job, but to survive in need of things like food. This, right now, is the most comfortable job.

I point towards one of the dark buildings, only one of the door handles on which can be seen the reflection of the red light.

The automaton turns its head slowly upwards to look at me and then turns its head to the door. I can hear the gears working overtime.

Carefully and slowly we make our way to the door.

At the door I stop and the package does the same.

I swear that is some great tech…

While readying my crossbow, I listen to all the sounds around me.

The trusty sound of my crossbow.

The gentle ticking of the automaton’s gears.

The dripping of water… or blood.

Then I turn my concentration to whatever is behind the heavy doors.

The quickest way to the point of delivery is right through this building, so there isn’t much of a choice. Of course I could walk around it, but the chance of being seen by monsters is too big of a risk and I’m unsure if the little one here can run or not.

It was so strange, well the whole thing.

The guy that wanted me to get the automaton… crazy inventors I guess.

I found the machine inside a coffin shaped box.

I was told that the machine could walk and that I should use that to my advantage, so of course I did.

I can’t carry a whole coffin in my lonesome, no matter how hard I train.

A soft sobbing behind the door takes my attention.

I listen more carefully.

There is a distinct difference between the cries of a monster and that of a human luckily.

So, there might be another survivor in there.

My hand hovers over the doorknob, which looks almost to be glowing thanks to the lighting.

I’m scanning it in a way, trying to sense if there’s any heat coming from it.

But there’s no warmth coming from it and as I finally lower my hand I feel the cold iron entering through my gloved hand.

It might sound bad, like it’s completely frozen, but it isn’t. It’s just clear that it has been a long time since the door was opened last.

As quietly as possible I turn the knob and open the door.

The heavy object lets out a, for my feeling, too loud creaking.

Immediately I feel cold sweat in my neck.

Slowly. Slowly. Slowly. Carefully. Careful. Be careful!

I nod to the automaton that it can enter, but it doesn’t understand.

“Get in!” I whisper to it.

I can hear some of the gears turn, finally it responds entering the darkness without a word or hesitation.

I follow suit and close the door behind me again, terrified that something might have heard it.

Suddenly I sense something moving.

There really is still someone in the building.

Let’s hope that it isn’t one of the insane roaming around.

The constant blood red sky doesn’t help much when it comes to calming folks down.

Exposed too long and one might lose their mind… or so is told. I haven’t had any trouble with it yet.

There’s a shadow moving, well more like trembling in fear, behind the altar.

The red light behind him exposes him to be a priest.

Calmly I walk forward, until I make out his wrinkled face.

The look he shows me is one of pure terror.

I lower my weapon.

“Good evening sir.” I greet him, while holding my free hand up in the air to show that I’m not planning to do any harm.

“Y-y-you’re not o-one of t-them?” He asks, still trembling and almost falling over his own words from fear.

“No sir, as you can see I’m not.”

I sense the ticking of gears approaching closer to me and the priest shrieks.

I see him opening his mouth to scream, but I won’t let him. In a flash I rush over to him and cover his mouth with my hand.

“I need to deliver this package in one piece, so please don’t give away our location.” Then I silently add: “That would benefit you too.”

I can feel the thin old body shaking in fear, making me feel bad for scaring him like this.

Slowly he closes his mouth again and falls to his knees.

Quivering he puts his hands together, but just before his two hands touch, he drops them to the floor again.

“We’re just passing through, I don’t have a problem with you praying.” I tell him in a gentle tone.

The old man shakes his head, his state says it all, he’s seen too much.

“I-I don’t think God i-is h-here.” He cries.

I’m not a person of faith, I never was, so I’m not sure what to tell him.

“Do… Do you think I-I’m wrong?” He asks after listening to my silence: “T-that there never t-truly was a G-God?”

I sigh, just what the hell am I supposed to answer to a priest who has lost his faith?

“Sir.” I bow down to him, holding out a hand for him to help him up: “I just deliver packages. I don’t know what is the truth and what isn’t.”

He doesn’t take my hand and instead turns his head to the dusty floor: “Perhaps the teachings were wrong after all…” He mutters more to himself than to me.

I scratch the back of my neck: “Well…” Don’t say it, just don’t: “There’s a place with other survivors I can bring you to, if you want that is.” Only in my head I add ‘You can talk about this stuff with them’.

But he shakes his head.

“Leave! You won’t understand!” His voice is suddenly filled with anger and frustration.

“We’ll be going anyway.” I shrug.

“Leave!” He yells again and I suddenly hear something big climbing over the roof.

I curse and quickly grab the automaton’s arm.

“We gotta go!”

We rush further back.

Back door. Back door.

Where the hell is the back door?!

Part of the ceiling breaks down and a huge, spider like monster drops down, casting the room in even more shadow.

I hear the priest scream.

The monster turns to him.

I can’t see anything, but the next thing I hear confirms my suspicion.

The crushing of bones.

The tearing of flesh.

The dripping of blood.

As I turn back to the machine, it seems almost as if it found the door.

It’s holding it open and looking at me with its normal expressionless face.

“Great job, buddy!” I whisper to him, taking his arm again and rushing back out into the crimson coloured streets.

In order to keep to the shadows, we enter another building.

I believe this was a university at some point, built around the 13th century.

It’s much bigger than the church.

Again I hold my weapon ready.

You never know, it’s because this building is so big, it could be a nest for those things.

“Let’s be quiet.” I whisper to the mechanical being next to me and immediately think about how strange it is to talk to it. It’s a machine, not a human or a pet.

But it’s nice to have something to talk to, even if it’s just a bundle of gears and porcelain. As long as it’s not a hungry monster I’m okay with anything.

While wandering around I sense something moving inside one of the rooms.

I stop in my tracks and as the automaton notices, it too stops.

I remain silent and listen to the soft noise.

There might be another person in that room.

Quietly I walk towards the door and open it.

A person inside is sitting behind a desk that I'm pretty sure used to be a teacher’s.

This person doesn’t look as frightened as the priest from before, or perhaps I’m imagining it.

“Oh… so you’re human?”

I nod: “What did you expect? Or what did you hope for?” I did notice the man’s disappointment even though it was just a slight hint.

He seems to have noticed that I noticed and turns his gaze back to something on the desk: “I used to teach here, you know.”

“I see.”

“Do you have any memories of attending school?”

I shrug: “Nothing that stands out, just a more peaceful life and worries about nothing.”

The man smiles, his face looks red in the light.

“I see, that must be nice.”

I take a step closer.

“What are you reading?” I ask curiously.

“A book of faith.”

“Faith?”

“It’s all true you know.”

“They mention the apocalypse and the end of the world.” As he speaks he loses his composure and starts speaking rapidly in a desperate tone: “It’s all because people went to church less and less. I never did after all and you certainly don’t look like the type that would. Oh God, I should have gone and prayed, but instead I’ve weakened the Lord’s power to protect. This is divine punishment.”

“I see.” I answer: “If you want to, I can take you to where the other survivors are.”

The teacher shakes his head: “Never! We are meant to perish! It’s the only thing that can save this forsaken world!”

Crap that only made him yell even louder.

I notice a strange shadow in the corner of my eye.

Something from outside is trying to climb inside.

Arms that almost look human, but also very far from it.

I warn the man by pointing behind him.

“God is the one who decides my faith! You should join me in it!” He stretches out his arms to grab me, but instead the creature behind him has already taken hold of him.

I don’t want to see what happens next, so I quickly rush out of the classroom, taking the automaton with me.

We rush out, further, out of the city.

Into a forest, here even the leaves are red, but not scarlet like the sky.

As I believe that we’re far enough away from the shadows of the old city, we slow down.

I take a seat on a tree trunk and let my traveling companion sit next to me.

“Don’t mind all those people, buddy, just decide what you want to believe for yourself.”

Slowly I see the automaton’s head go up and down and then up again.

Wait…?!

Is it nodding?!

The diver

Another short horror story I wrote.

Word count: 2339

"Are you ready?" Bob asks us in an excited tone.

I nod anxiously, but in truth that simple action is an enormous lie.

We have never been this deep before, no one has and the things we might come across at the bottom is a mystery to us.

Still, we have been training for this for months now. I should stop worrying and just dive down with my team.

Our heavy diving equipment gets their finishing touches and we are ready to go.

"Alright, you guys know what to do if something goes wrong, right?" James asks us.

"Yes." I answer, just nodding won't do it now. They won't be able to notice it with my helmet on.

The others let him know they know as well, it's just pressing the red button after all. Then James and the rest of the crew, still above water, will get us out.

If something does go wrong however, it will take a while for us to get back.

But I don't want to think too much about it.

With a loud splash my group and I jump into the water, slowly they let us down with the ropes attached to us.

I peer out of the small window in my helmet, watching everything slowly growing darker and darker the deeper I go.

Fishes rush away from me, while the seemingly unending plant greets me to come further down.

"Liam, You good?" Bob asks me.

"Yes, I'm okay. You?"

"That's good to hear. I really wonder what we will find down there." Bob still sounds as excited as before. Really that man knows no fear.

As it gets darker, we turn on our lights. But even so, there isn't much we can see except for each other.

Finally my feet touch the ground and we decide to look around to put everything we see on film.

We fasten the ropes to some rocks that seem sturdy enough, our suits are made especially for us to spend longer underwater.

Not only has it gotten darker, it has gotten much colder as well.

"Guys, you should come see this." I hear Kimberly say through the radio.

"What is it?" Asks Kyle, while walking towards her. I carefully follow them.

Finally I see what Kimberly wanted to show us.

It's a building.

A building made of old bricks, taken over by nature, but still standing in great condition.

A building underwater.

Unfortunately it's too dark to make out what kind of building it might have been.

"This is so strange, the robots we sent before didn't show anything like this." Kimberly says, astonished.

"They could have missed it, but I guess we have to call for archeologists now before we can continue." Kyle sighs.

"It shouldn't be a problem as long as we don't enter it." Bob suggests.

As we make our way around it, I take notice of the fact that there seems to be no fishes down here. Only plants.

"Hey, did you hear that?" Kyle suddenly asks, clearly afraid of something.

Bob looks around: "No, I didn't hear anything." If it wasn't for his heavy suit he would have probably visibly shrugged.

Quietly we move our flashlights around to see whatever Kyle could have heard.

"Where did it come from?" Kimberly asks.

"I-I think it might have come from the building."

"Ah, not used to the sounds of old buildings underwater yet?" Bob shares, but gets no answer except an annoyed silence from Kyle.

I look around further, letting the light of my flashlight slowly pass over all my surroundings.

There are more buildings.

A lot more.

And on the ground.... This almost looks like an asphalt road... like one used nowadays.

I call the others over to inspect it.

"Creepy... it looks just like above.... But wrong." Kimberly says reluctantly to go further.

"Yeah, I think we should go back." Kyle agrees, not trying to hide his fear anymore.

Something is wrong.

Not just this place.

But where the hell did Bob go?!

I look around.

The other two seem to have noticed as well: "Did you think he went inside one of the buildings?"

"Goddammit! We can't just leave without him. If he is just pranking us, I will-"

"He is not that kind of person." I answer quickly, I've known Bob for a while now. He might like to joke around sometimes, but this is beyond him. Something must have happened!

We search for our lost friend and call out to him, but no matter how well we look, he just doesn't seem to be around.

"Alright, I'm pressing the button." Kyle says, already holding the thing in his hand.

Kimberly agrees: "Yes, I will try to get in touch with the ship."

Then I can suddenly hear Kimberly saying in a panicking tone: "Guys... I can't contact them."

Kyle starts to panic as well: "FUCK, I knew this was a bad idea!"

I would be lying if I said that I didn't feel it as well, but there was something else that took my attention from the two.

I think I know this place...

These buildings... They are so familiar.

Carefully I walk towards one, the one that gives me this feeling the most and shine my flashlight just above the doors.

It's in a language I can read.

And it clearly reads 'Hospital'.

"Guys." I mumble to them, but they are too busy arguing.

A sudden idea enters my mind.

What if I enter? And go to the highest spot I can get... will I be able to get into contact with the others on the boat again?

I walk towards them: "Hey, I think we can still get help."

I explain my plan to them and at first they think it's ridiculous, but there isn't really any other option.

We have to enter.

The doors to the hospital are open, so getting in isn't difficult.

An eerie feeling creeps over me as I see the interior.

It looks just like the hospital I know, one I would rather not remember though.

"I think I know this place." I mumble to the others.

"You know this place? There is no way. This has been down here for god knows how long." Kyle answers me.

I turn towards him: "Couldn't you read the text above the door? Or really any of these nameplates?"

He looks at me confused: "Man, is your oxygen tank already malfunctioning?"

So they don't see it? But I can see it all so clearly.

"Liam, are you okay?" Kimberly asks.

"Yes, I'm fine."

I hate that they doubt me so much, but if I think about it, I would probably doubt me too.

Even so, I take the lead and thanks to me seeing the things they don't, find the stairs without problem.

It doesn't take long for us to reach the second floor.

"Bob?" Kyle suddenly asks.

"Wait, did you hear him?" Kimberly looks around.

"I'm sure of it. I heard him over there!"

Before we can stop him he walks towards where only he heard it come from.

"Kyle, did you hear his radio? Or his voice?" I ask, but receive no answer in return.

We follow him quickly.

Kimberly stops for a second to check if she can contact James again, but seemingly to no avail, as she continues on soon after.

As I turn back to look where Kyle went, I don't see him anymore.

"Kyle?" I call out to him.

"Shit, did he leave without us?"

We run towards the place we had last seen him, but it doesn't matter how many doors we open.

He is not there.

"Bob! Kyle! Where are you two?!" Kimberly yells.

"I think we should go further to let the others know." I tell her as we have searched the entire floor.

She sighs, but follows me back up the stairs.

We skip the next floor, since this door does seem to be locked.

I wonder how many floors this building has...

"Hey, Liam... I think I smell something..."

"What?"

"It smells like blood."

"We are really deep underwater right now... how come? Did you get wounded somehow?"

"No, I'm fine." She mumbles as I check for blood.

This is so strange... Kimberly smells things here, Kyle heard things here and I see everything different from them... just why? Are we all going crazy?

"Let's skip this floor then... it might be something dangerous."

"No, Kyle and Ben might be in danger! We have to find them." Before she can run ahead of me I stop her.

"Alright, but I will go first. Otherwise we will lose each other as well."

Luckily she seems to agree and we walk to the place where she smells blood.

"It's here." She whispers as we stand by the door.

"Alright."

Carefully I open the door and shine my light inside the dark room.

"Bob? I-Is that you?" I ask the man sitting slumped over on a chair, wearing a familiar diving suit.

"Liam..." Kimberly tries, but I ignore her and step into the room.

"Hey, wake up. We gotta go!"

I place my hand on his shoulder and give it a hard shake.

His head slowly rolls off and falls onto the ground, leaving me in a dark cloud of red mist.

"Liam!" Kimberly yells, but I can't locate her.

Blindly I stumble around, until I can clearly hear something break from beneath me.

I curse loudly, as I can feel something stab me and fall down.

I fall pretty fast, but water is still water, so it's at least a little bit slower. Yet not slow enough to fall multiple floors down.

As I finally stop falling, I open my eyes, cursing the fact that I'm still alive and that this isn't some terrible nightmare.

This place is awfully dark, just like the rest of the bottom.

It luckily doesn't take long for me to find my flashlight.

"Hey Kimberly! I'm okay!" I yell at what I think is above.

I shine my flashlight around me, is this... a morgue?

It sure looks like one.

Did I fall into the basement?

And are the floors that weak?

Then I hear a noise.

Something behind the table.

For a moment I hold my breath, something is there. I know it and it might be dangerous.

In the dark I hear the moving of a creature.

Quickly I shine my flashlight towards it.

It feels long that I'm standing here, it's slowly getting colder.

The creature seems to have stood still for a while, but then it moves into the light.

Out of the darkness appears a young boy, about ten years or so, teddy bear in his arms.

No diving suit, nothing that could help him breathe. He slowly walks towards me, not even swimming as if there is no water here at all.

But even stranger than all that is... I know him.

I know him.

Why? From all the people that it could have been... Why does it have to be him?

Carefully I take a step back.

"But... you're not here anymore..." I utter.

The child before me takes another step closer to me and I another back.

"Are you scared of me?" He asks in a rather sad tone, somehow also sounding as if we are above water. The expression on his face is one of deep sorrow.

"Y-yes." I answer honestly, but my answer makes me feel guilty immediately.

I can't think straight anymore, am I really underwater? Or was that a dream?

Is that child before me really...?

No that can't be...

Ronan has died long ago, I know it, I was there when it happened.

I wonder what would have come from him had he survived.

Would he have been taller than me?

Would he have become the person he wanted to be?

"Is something wrong?" He asks, this time without getting closer.

Suddenly I feel a burning sensation on my lip, I must have been biting it and causing it to bleed.

Without thinking my hand goes up to my helmet, I want to loosen it.

"DON'T!" Ronan suddenly yells at me while rushing to me, trying to pull my hand down: "If you do that, you will certainly die!"

I push him away.

"Don't you even remember me?" He asks in tears.

"Of course I do, I'm sorry... just how...?"

"I can't answer everything, there is something here. A monster. And I need to save you." Ronan puts on a brave face.

I shake my head: "Why? Just why? How can I be certain that you will? For all I know, you might be the monster."

For a moment he looks down, but quickly he turns his face back to me again: "Because I promised I would protect you."

"When?"

"Always! Since you were a baby. I always said that I would protect my little brother!"

"But now you're-"

"Yes, I know! No need to remind me. I'm sorry I left so early, but even so, I never stopped caring for you or watching over you! You don't deserve to die down here!"

Before I know it my vision gets all blurry from my tears.

It's really him.

How could I forget that determination from him?

But with the good, the bad memories return too.

The reason why he went to this hospital.

"Liam, we need to hurry." Ronan pulls me back to the present.

"You're right."

"Please take this." He says as he hands me his teddy bear.

"Thanks... but why?"

"It was meant to be given by me on your birthday, but you know I couldn't."

I don't answer, I just can't.

"So... will you trust me now?"

"Yes." I whisper as he takes my hand.

.

.

.

A search has started for the missing group.

Even the police and the army have gotten involved now, searching desperately.

As the sky slowly turns dark, there is still no sign of the divers.

Despairingly James helps with the search, checking every second for one of the missing to send an SOS. But even the location sharing that should have worked just fine has stopped functioning.

Adding insult to injury, there even seems to be a storm approaching.

"Goddammit." James curses quietly, frantically looking for another way to be useful in helping.

As the first few drops of rain come down, they are still searching.

"You still haven't heard anything?" One of the officers asks James.

"No, I haven't. I just hope those guys down there are okay."

"They have been down there for more than six hours, right?" He asks: "Sorry to say this, but it would be a miracle-"

A loud beeping suddenly interrupts the officer.

James rushes towards the machine.

"We found them! Or at least one of them."

An hour later they pull out one of the men of the group.

They remove his helmet to see that even though he is wounded, he is still breathing.

Though there is something strange about him.

He is holding an old teddy bear in his arms.

Book of the apocalypse

I've recently started posting a new book I'm writing on wattpad and I was wondering if there are people who might be interested in me posting it here on tumblr.

The story is about someone trying to survive on their own in a zombie apocalypse and ends up finding themself drawn to a book they find.

Anyway here are the prologue and the first chapter, please let me know what you think:

TW: Gore, psycological horror, spiders, depressing theme's

Word count: 673(prologue)+1800(Chapter 1)

It's dark.

An oppressive silence prevails.

Only to those who live close to the ground, a loud rhythmic noise can be heard.

This is of course exclusive for those like mice and creatures much smaller.

Creatures with a good sense of hearing.

To a cat or a dog it might still be audible, though they would probably only hear a soft tapping.

Something tapping across the floor at an almost unearthly speed.

Driven by something unknown to any breathing kind.

Yet somehow able to scare away those creatures with incredible hearing.

The tapping is the true sound of doom.

The ticking across the floor clearly means nothing less than death.

The tapping is that of many small insects.

Insects moving strangely in unison.

Insects all move in the same manner, as if not multiple but just one creature.

The ticking races onto a metal shelf and stops there for about a second.

To those with the good ears, they might catch something sounding closely like something's scraping the metal.

Or better... something eating the cold metal.

If you were to hold a light there and perhaps something like a microscope, you might spot some of the small scratches made on the metallic surface. Since they are so difficult to spot.

As the second passed the small insects continue their journey once more.

A loud noise can be registered by them, vibrations can be felt and they immediately stop in their tracks.

A person, a human, has come into the room.

Loudly to the insects, quietly to the human.

His heart makes the loudest, yet calmest noise.

A noise of comfort.

The man does not care or know that he's being watched.

He turns on a light and the insects start sprinting towards him.

The light shows what they are.

Their truest nature.

Small spiders, about half an inch per length, excluding their many thin legs.

The legs that made the tapping noise.

Small red eyes, seemingly scanning their surroundings effortlessly in high speed.

But the light shows something else about them.

Something else that is wrong.

They are in fact not any natural kind of spiders.

They're mechanical.

The light turns them into small flashes of silver.

If you were to inspect them up close with a magnifying glass, you might even spot very tiny screws and threads across their bodies.

The spiders leap and like some of the kind they're meant to represent, they almost seem to be able to fly.

The man has noticed them now too, but far too late.

The small man-made insects have already landed on his bare forearms.

He quickly tries to remove them with his big hands, which he is successful with only a few.

About two thirds are still on him and have decided to dig themselves into the skin of their prey.

The man yells for help and another one comes, just in time for those who had fallen back on the floor.

For some strange reason, there seem to be more of them now, it's like the spiders have copied themselves many times over. Perhaps with the help of the metal they had been 'eating' before.

The first man can feel the spiders move underneath his skin, climbing and digging their way further up his body.

Looking closer you should be able to see them move as little lumps through his flesh, they don't go too deep, well not at first at least.

Further and further they go.

They have a mission.

At least if you could call it that.

Crawling further without a moment of rest, almost oblivious to the panicking man trying to stab them with the help of a knife.

An ambulance has already been called and is on its way.

Too late, too late.

The small spiders make their way into his neck.

Mercilessly they continue.

As they finally reach their goal.

The head.

The brain.

Now they do dig deeper and deeper.

All the small spiders secretly and silently communicate to one another strange messages, such as: 'OUT OF CONTROL HUMAN' and 'ERROR'.

They had been made in order to help human beings, but ended up being the defining factor of their decline and deaths.

The spiders all drugged and changed people so much that they turned into nothing more than zombies.

Devouring the flesh of others without a hint of sadness.

The minds of these people were lost completely.

Chapter 1:

Grass.

Buildings.

Cars.

More grass.

Plants.

Metal.

What are these called again?

It's morning.

I'm thinking about words.

Thinking in words... it's been getting more and more difficult.

Am I going to lose them?

Train racks...?

No, train tracks! Those are train tracks!

It's morning and I'm living.

I'm alive... I think.

I'm alone.

There was something about mornings... right?

People counted them?

Back in the old times... I think.

Now mankind has long stopped counting the years.

If there even is something I can call mankind.

For all I know they have all but me died out, leaving me alone in this dark and dangerous world. The only one who can protect me is myself.

The only reliable one in this world is myself.

The only one making sure I don't end up like one of the monsters, is again myself.

Even with the fact that the world has practically ended for my kind, the sun still rises and after a while, it goes down again.

If you want to know how this all started, you're asking the wrong person.

Because I don't care.

Surviving till the next day is the only thing left on my agenda.

Even though dying might seem nice, becoming one of those things would be horrible.

I glance out of the window from the old train, watching the rising sun, all the while clutching the handle of my spear.

I made the thing myself so it's pretty shabby looking, but at least it does the job right and keeps the monsters at a distance.

Quietly and swiftly I leave the dark, abandoned vehicle.

If I stay here any longer they might find out after all.

Vigilantly I follow the tracks to the station, ready to fight or flight at any moment.

Those hungry bastards aren't getting me for dinner!

I won't be their prize nor the one they might see as a hero.

Though I highly doubt that they are able to either 'see' or 'think'.

As I walk into the broken down, but still dark train station I notice that even though it's in a bad shape. It still has some beauty in it.

It's an old train station, most of the part that has collapsed is the newer, later build-on part.

The old part is still standing strong.

Yes, most of the stained glass is broken, but the ornamented walls are still clearly visible.

Somehow giving me this really nostalgic feeling, to a time unknown to me.

I shake my head, It's not the time to be in awe with old junk, it's all useless now after all.

Making sure that nothing is around, I climb onto one of the platforms.

As I wander around I suddenly notice a strange object on one of the still intact benches.

Somehow it draws my complete attention, I cannot help myself but to investigate it.

I hold my spear before me, so if it moves, I can kill it immediately.

Step by step I get closer.

Is it dangerous?

Is it edible?

A million wordless questions race around in my mind, but none of them ask the right one.

Carefully I take the object in hand.

It's a book, my inner voice tells me.

It's a leather bound book.

Old, but still intact.

Without thinking I open it.

Not even the spiders have taken it, that's weird.

As I see the first page, something is hand-written on the bottom. It takes a moment to understand what it says: 'EX Libris: Q. F. Shannon'

This must have been the name of the previous owner.

I wonder what happened to them.

Though that is completely unimportant.

I turn a couple of pages and find more small black words scribbled on them in a strange form of...writing.

They make me feel... lightheaded... that's the word... right?

Suddenly I sense a presence behind me.

I take out my weapon and attack whatever is standing there.

Somehow it goes right through...

I can feel my heart pumping quickly.

Cold sweat slowly makes its way down my neck and back.

"Good morning." A strange voice out of nowhere says to me.

It's... speaking... human speech...

It's speaking to me.

Shocked by the sound, the voice of another human being, for the first time in a long, very long while, I turn around and point at them with my spear.

It's a strange person, wearing some kind of old and strange costume. One from the lost time.

Without speaking I threaten them with my weapon.

They are unlike me.

My spear should have hurt them... but it went right through!

I can't trust them!

I can't trust them!!

Distrust washes over me.

How could someone still be alive?

And be dressed like that?!

"Please, I mean no harm." The person says while holding up their arms

I don't answer and only stare at them with contempt.

Only now I've noticed that I've dropped the book as the person is looking at it.

Have the spiders evolved this much? Or have I finally lost my mind?

I swallow, scared of what to do next.

The thing before me tries to comfort me: "I'm not real."

"What... does that... mean?" I ask, having difficulty speaking, hurting my throat in the process of creating words.

The creature nods: "I'm imaginary. I'm simply something you made up. An Imaginary friend if you will."

Friend...?

What did that mean again?

Something about that word makes me agitated.

Something about that word makes me angry.

Something about that word makes me want to cry.

Something about that word makes me want to scream...

"Don't... You aren't that... I don't think..." I mumble.

They smile at me: "Well then, I'm Quiller. You may call me that or just mister or... something else, if my name is too difficult."

He looks at me as if waiting for an answer, but I don't.

"So what is your name?"

I think.

I think deeply.

At first I'm not sure what he means by the word 'name'.

Then a bad memory fills my head and just in time I'm able to shake it away.

It's been a long time since I had something of a name.

I remember that I was called something too, it was normal back in the day.

Back when there were still other people in the world.

I press my hand against my chest "...Don." I whisper: "I was called... that... I think."

Quiller gives me another smile: "That's a wonderful name, nice to make your acquaintance." He stretches out a hand and I stare at it.

"You... are supposed to shake it..." He says as he scratches the back of his neck with his other hand.

"Shake? But won't... it go through?"

His expression turns to one of pain: "Yeah, sorry. You're right." He takes back his hand.

I take the book from the ground.

"That looks interesting." He sounds surprised.

"I found it, it's mine." For some reason I'm clutching the heavy object against my chest as if it's my long lost treasure. Honestly I don't know why. But it feels like... I have to keep it with me.

"So you're going to read it?"

I skim through the pages, they're made of paper.

"It...would make for a good fire-starter."

Quiller's expression turns horrified: "Wait, no! You can't do that!"

"Why?"

"It holds someone's memory!"

"Memory?"

"Yes, every book is written by someone. They write it with their love, their hate, their life, their passion, their dreams. Never take another person's work too light."

Gibberish he seems to speak.

"Are you... one of them?" I ask nudging back somewhere.

He sighs: "No, of course not. Have I been trying to eat you since I met you?"

I just stare at him confused.

He takes another look at the book: "I... think I know that book."

I look at him questioningly.

"Maybe you should try to read it, it has a pretty good story. You can read, yes?"

"I'm able to read ingredients from food."

He laughs awkwardly: "Well that's a start..."

Without much care I put the book in my backpack and I continue my search.

It feels strange to have someone that at least seems to be real and walking close by, especially since he doesn't seem to be hostile in any way shape or form. What most things are.

I will keep a close eye on him, I don't really understand why I'm seeing him and I don't have another person like me here to check if I'm really making it all up in my mind.

It really does seem like the most reality-based explanation right now, I've been alone for a long time now.

I vaguely remember a story about someone befriending an object to stay sane after being alone for a very long time. It is said to be normal when someone is lonely.

But even so, is that really the case right now?

While scouting out the area, it suddenly starts to rain outside.

I guess I have no other choice but to stay the night.

As we walk into the inside part of the station I suddenly notice a couple of them, standing closely to the rooms that once had probably been stores.

Their bodies made of a combination of rotting flesh, metal wiring and some of them have something like mos growing over their heads and shoulders. Water slowly dripping from their horrible monsterous bodies.

Luckily they're standing far away, staring into space and not having noticed me yet.

Sometimes they shake in the strange way they usually do and return to staring.

It reminds me a bit of how they used to be when all of this started, back then they were out to kill every last human. Back then they rarely stood this still.

I guess since most people have died, they don't have much to do anymore, so staring is probably the only thing they can do.

Staring and standing.

It makes me wonder if they think...

No, that can't be true.

Monsters like that must be unable to think, if they do it must be about devouring the innocent and weak.

"Hey."Quiller whispers: "You should probably head the other way, they don't look very nice."

They don't look very nice? Is he oblivious to what happened? Does he not know?

Didn't he mention knowing of it before though? Well I should ask him later.

Now is not the time.

I tiptoe away from the creatures, making sure not to make a single sound.

When it all went down, I taught myself a new way of walking which was a lot quieter than how I used to.

Now it's second nature to me, I don't walk any other way now.

Well, okay, if I have to run, I run and sound doesn't really matter if there is something out there that wants to rip you apart.

I take the stairs to the second floor, scanning my surroundings thoroughly.

More old, empty shops and a lookout onto the platforms and surrounding area.

"Do you think I could go further up?" I ask the strangely clothed man.

"Well yeah, this building is old and even has a clock-tower. Maybe we should try getting in there?"

I nod approving, maybe he might be useful after all.

It doesn't take long for us to find a small hidden passageway.

"It should be through here." Quiller says to me.

I look at the narrow door in the ceiling and shake my head.

I hate small spaces, I would rather get there by climbing from the outside.

I look outside but am only greeted by the heavy rainfall, it's almost like the clouds are laughing at me.

Laughing at the fact that I'm scared.

And I hate them for it.

Next chapter:

Do you remember?

I hope you all had a great christmas!!

Here is another short horror story I wrote recently, that I thought to be fitting:)

Word count: 362

TW: horror

Do you remember?

The falling snow?

The warmth of the fire?

The kind smile on your mother's face?

That day we met... do you remember?

That day, many, many years ago.

When you came by and we became fast friends.

You were so kind.

I didn't have any friends, but you wanted to be mine.

I have always really appreciated that from you...

Your kindness.

Your openness to whomever, whatever...

Remember when we first played outside together?

The crunching of freshly fallen snow underneath our feet.

The woods surrounding your house, slowly getting darker and darker.

That day we completely lost track of time.

That day was truly amazing.

Remember that day when there was a snowstorm outside?

We couldn't play outside, so we sat by the warm fire in the living room.

We played with your toys and told each other stories.

I still remember all of them.

Do you?

Do you remember our first sleepover?

We talked and talked, until your mother came to your room, telling us to be quiet.

At night it would start storming and you tried to keep me from getting scared.

So warm, so gentle.

But now... you've changed.

You've... gone cold in a way.

Still breathing, yes, but you feel like a colder person now.

Do you even remember who you used to be? What you used to be like?

Has it really been that long?

Is there something I should remember?

When you just looked at me, you made a face like you were looking at vermin.

Remember the crunching of snow, remember the crackling of the fire, remember our laughter from those many, many days gone by.

I guess it's time.

Nothing else to be done other than this.

If I leave you like this...

You're going to be wasting away.

You're going to rot.

You're going bad.

You'll be spoiled before long.

I guess to you I might not even be vermin, I honestly think more that you might see me as a monster.

I'm different from you.

I scare you.

I scared your family.

Well I might be truly a monster to your kind.

Hiding in the shadows.

Eating creatures that are still alive.

Drinking their blood.

Most of your kind don't do that... right?

Or perhaps they do in some other way?

Do you remember?

Because I don't.

My head is too busy thinking.

Thinking about how I will stop playing with my food.

Yes, you guessed right.

You are.

Because if I don't... you'll expire.

Thank you for the tag:)

Here are the five things you will always find in my works:

Ghosts

Unreliable narrator

Strange twists

Paranoia

Emotional

Tagging: @gore-void @mika3lmy3r2 @emmettkane @noisylime

5 things you will always find in my fics

Tagged by @cromwelll thank you!

Shipping

Present tense

Song lyric titles

Pop culture references

Exact word counts

Now I want to write something that includes NONE of these lol </3

Tagging five fellow fic writers: @0nelittlebirdtoldme @complicitsacrilege @goblins-riddles-or-frocks @udaberriwrites and @17panicattacksinatrenchcoat or anyone who wants to play :)

Hidden ritual

A short horror story I wrote a while back:)

Word count: 888

TW: Blood

In truth I've always known that the house I live in is haunted.

The soft sounds of soft footsteps when you're home alone, the whispers when the house is empty...

You know all the signs.

All have been told before already after all.

We were just lucky that it never got worse than that, yes sometimes small objects would have been placed elsewhere, but we never got the feeling that we were dealing with something that was dangerous or angry.

So we just let it be, whatever it was.

Then one day, one of the kids was playing in the room with a tennis ball, I told them not to, but they did so anyway.

The ball bounced around the room, first hitting the floor, then the walls, then the ceiling and then it went into the hallway.

Full force it smashed itself through one of the walls.

I scolded my child, because we heard something break and then we quickly went to assess the damage.

And there it was, a hole as big as the ball itself showed a dark space behind the wall under the stairs.

"What's behind this?" My child asked me and even though I was angry I found myself to be curious about it as well.

I went to get a flashlight and shined it inside.

Something had been painted, or maybe written, but all was unreadable.

I didn't remember any room with such writing in it, for all I knew there shouldn't even be a room behind this wall.

After the whole family had gathered under the stairs, I decided to take out a hammer and see what could possibly be behind it.

BANG!

BANG!!

BANG!!!

The hole was now big enough to see through.

I took out the flashlight again and shone its light inside to reveal...

A person.

A person, as pale as a ghost, unmoving, perhaps even unbreathing.

A person lying in a coffin without a lid.

A person dressed strangely old fashioned.

"Don't look children." My wife tried to have our kids close their eyes.

We immediately took to the phone and called the police.

The entire wall was getting broken down now and shortly after they told me that the person in the coffin was in fact deceased. From the look of it, it hadn't been very long ago either.

All of us got questioned, but of course none of us knew.

That wall had been sealed off far before we started living here and none of us knew of any other way in.

The same day we were allowed to leave the station and stay with the neighbors, a nice elderly couple.

Even before these events my children have seen them as their grandparents, it wouldn't be possible for them to have committed such a heinous crime in our home.

I did tell them about what happened, but they seemed just as surprised as we had been when we found it.

The next day I decided to check up on how it was going, only to not find a single police officer there anymore.

"What's going on here?" I asked the people inside my house, to which they replied that they were archeologists sent by the police to investigate.

The strange story they told me was something about the fact that the corpse had actually been there much, much longer than we had initially thought.

The body had been lying there for centuries, the archeologists suspected that the walls might have been sealed shut in a way to make it air-tight. That way no bacteria would have been able to grow nor live there, making it impossible for the body to decompose.

It didn't take long until we were allowed to go back again, we weren't sure if that was something to be happy about, but we still did so anyway.

The first night we went back, none of us were able to sleep, so we let the kids sleep with us in our bed. Luckily all of them are still rather young, so it all just fitted.

When I finally fell asleep I had the strangest dream, I was sitting in my room, but unlike how it was, it was completely empty.

There was a knock on the door I was facing.

"Come in." I answered and silently the door opened to show a figure behind it, somehow the person looked familiar, but I couldn't seem to remember them.

The next night I dreamed that I was looking at a ceiling that had been chalked up with the strange writing I had seen in the space under the stairs before.

Not much else happened in that dream, but it felt strangely eerie.

Then on the third night I dreamed that I was walking in the hallway, someone was behind me, a woman that somehow resembled my wife.

She held a knife.

At the moment I turned around, the weapon was already stuck in my chest.

Glistering red victoriously.

The day afterwards I decided to talk to some of the archeologists and asked if they knew anything about the writing was on the walls.

I was told that their translator had found out that it somewhat looked like a ritual of some sort.

It might even have been a ritual of resurrection.

As you might believe I had too many questions to ask and very few answers to it, since all of it was still being investigated.

I decided to talk about it with my wife and as I did she suddenly said something strange:

"He really looks like you, doesn't he?"

"Who do you mean?"

"The man in the coffin."

The tree

The most recent short horror story I wrote:)

Word count: 722

TW: Psychological horror

Rain mixed salt with fresh water.

It's quite cold for a spring day, I think to myself as I close my coat to protect my body against the harsh weather.

I wander around outside and I suddenly find myself by an old tree, one that is rather famous around here.

None of the locals are sure if it is even still alive or dead.

Its bark looks so dark on the outside, as if it had been burned long ago and for one reason or another it never blossomed. It feels cold to the touch.

The place where it stands is rather strange too, it has the endless sea as its background.

Like I always do when I pass by, I stop for a bit, just to watch. Even without leaves it seems to immerse the place around it in shadow.

I've heard people talk about how it might have been a place where people were hung. But those stories have never been more than whispers, there's simply nothing to prove it. If you were to search the local archive you wouldn't find anything about it either.

I look towards the sea, for some reason the tree makes it look almost melancholy or sad.

This rain doesn't help a lot either, but even when the sun is shining, it's this tree that causes all to look depressing.

Happy families playing in the sea won't make it look any happier, not even weddings that take place on the warm sand.

As long as this tree is here, it will never make this a happy place.

There have been times in the past that people wanted to remove it, but it never seemed to go down.

Perhaps the whispers are true, that it's cursed, but I am not one for such superstitions.

In a way, I believe that this tree does also hold something beautiful and mysterious, like a long forgotten memory from which it is uncertain if it's a good or bad one. Perhaps it's neither of those, but never a dull one.

I watch as the raindrops fall down from the branches and darken the sandy ground beneath it.

It's just straight ahead if I wanted to go to the beach, I might go there if I feel like it, but I'm not sure yet.

Suddenly I hear a voice coming from behind the tree, at first it was the wind or the sound of the waves, but it really is a voice. I can't catch the words, they sound muffled by the rain.

I look to see and find a trembling girl behind me.

She's barefoot and looks dirty.

Her eyes are red from crying.

I estimate her age to be around 14.

Without a second thought I take off my coat and wrap it around her.

"Are you okay?" I ask, glancing around to see if I can see any other sign of life around us, but finding none.

She nods, still trembling.

I take a step back and take out my phone, ready to call whoever.

As I finally dialled 911, I look back to where the girl had stood...

She's not there anymore, like she had vanished into thin air.

Swiftly I look around, but she's nowhere to be seen.

I call out for her a couple of times, but no one calls back.

A 911 operator picks up and I try my best to explain what just happened and I don't get the feeling she believes me, telling me to just go home and not stay out in this weather.

I return home and close the door behind me.

As I sneeze I notice that I've already caught a cold, I should probably go take a hot shower.

But before I can even remove my soaked clothes I hear a knock at the door.

I'm surprised that someone would want to visit me in this weather.

Quickly, as to not get the unknown guest get soaked as well, I rush towards the door and open it.

"Good afternoon." A local cop greets me: "Does this coat belong to you?"

In his hand he's holding the coat I was wearing earlier.

I nod: "Yes it is.", but before I can take it back he retrieves it again, showing that another cop is behind him as well.

"We just got word of a disturbed piece of land and found a body there." He continues with a cold gaze that never leaves me: "This was found at the scene, hanging on one of the branches of the tree."

Book of the apocalypse - chapter 2

Chapter 2 - A place to rest

TW: Gore, psycological horror, spiders, depressing theme's

Word count: 801

Previous chapter:

"C'ome on! I even checked it for you, it should be safe enough."

"How can I... be sure of what... lies beyond if you... are... imaginary?"

Defeated, he sighs.

We have been arguing for a while now and the rain outside hasn't stopped at all.

"I'm going to...one of the stores... usually they have a room... in the back that can be... locked." Old words slowly enter my mind. I guess I didn't forget everything.

"But the clock tower has a better view, you can be certain of your surroundings and make better plans for when the rain stops!"

"Quiller... I am not going in there-!"

Quickly I place my hand in front of my mouth and stop talking.

I must have yelled too loud, because I hear something approaching us.

Something dragging.

Another walking faster.

Shit!

Taking out just one is already quite the feat, two might be impossible, especially in such a confined space.

I've lived like this for years, but only thanks to knowing when to run and when to fight.

After all... they aren't a lot like zombies from old moving pictures.

And it certainly wasn't a virus that caught them.

Not a virus any human or animal could have gotten.

Quickly and quietly I hide behind a corner.

I see the two- no... four!

There's four of them!

Goddammit!

They're still scanning their surroundings.

I just hope they don't-

The one that seems to be the leader looks straight at me, making a strange noise.

Quiller is standing by the door to the tower: "I think this really is our safest bet."

"You... you asshole, you knew didn't you?! You planned for this to happen!"

I don't look at his face, I don't want to look at it.

Wow, betrayed even by an imaginary fiend.

I hold my spear in a way to protect myself as one of them lunges at me.

Before I know it I'm surrounded.

Their half decaying flesh, half robotic faces look hungry at me.

"You assholes fight like... like bitches!" I yell at them, knowing full well the futility of it. The same strange words I recognize as curses leave my mouth one after another.

How strange... but it feels right.

Trying to give myself an escape route I slice off an arm from one of the creatures.

With a sloshy thud it falls onto the floor and rolls away.

Almost immediately a new arm starts to grow, one not made of flesh... but of some kind of metal.

A dark liquid spills onto the floor, smelling like a combination of something rotting and machine oil.

As I try to slice the new one off, I'm only able to dent it a little bit.

I feel my hope sink.

"I guess I have no choice but to use 'that'..."

I take a small machine from one of the pockets in my belt.

It's still a work in progress, but this is better than nothing.

Do I really have to use my piece of hard-work here?

Well... I guess it beats dying.

In a swift movement I press a button and make it stick to one of my attackers' heads.

I'm sorry...

The creature starts to scream.

A scream sounding more and more like that of a human it once was.

I'm sorry...

The others get alerted by the sound and start attacking their once fellow creature.

I hate to do this, but a better decoy doesn't exist.

Even if the creature had become fully human again, it would have died in an instant.

I haven't found anything against that yet.

Quickly and quietly I rush to Quiller.

I give him a glare, saying: 'Fine... I will do it your way asshole!' and get myself through the small door in the ceiling.

He seems to be slightly frightened by my cursing.

It's a good thing I've gotten used to doing parkour.

Jumping from one wall to the other and climbing up is nothing.

I breathe a sigh of relief as I notice that it doesn't end in a small space to crawl through.

I might have gone right back out if that was the case.

It's open.

I close the small door behind me, I really don't want those creatures getting up here and then I turn my flashlight on to look around.

The room is mostly empty, except for the layer of dust and an old couch.

The clock is the window, but it has gotten so dirty thanks to the dust, seeing through it is nearly impossible.

I scan through the room with the light in my hand, I really hope there is nothing up here.

There is a dusty, old couch in the middle and the only source of light is coming from the dirty clock, that's also somewhat of a window.

Luckily there is no one here.

"Hey, are you okay?" Quiller asks, looking rather worried: "You didn't get bit, right?"

I shake my head, I better not answer him right now.

Those creatures one floor below us, worry me.

I carefully walk over to the couch.

Maybe now is the best time to start reading that book.

I take the old object out of my bag and open it.

My colleague

A short horror story I wrote a while ago:)

Word count: 929

It's loud and crowded in the office today.

I don't know why, but honestly I don't really care and just continue with my work.

Suddenly someone taps me on my shoulder and I look up.

It's Jimmy, one of my colleagues.

I quickly look away again, ignoring him and continuing my work.

"Hey, I want to talk to you about something."

"Sure."

He sighs, seemingly annoyed about my answer: "It's something I would rather discuss in private."

I look around to see the others working hard or talking loudly: "It doesn't matter, no one will hear you anyway. Everyone is too busy with their own things, they couldn't care less."

He turns his head away from me, making me unable to see how he is feeling.

"You're really not trying to hide it, huh?"

"Hiding?"

He scoffs: "That you aren't you."

Honestly his answer takes me by surprise, but I don't want to show him.

"What gave you that idea?" I ask him.

"I knew the original you, that's just a completely different person. Maybe even a different being..."

Annoyed, I look at him: "Seriously? How did I change then?"

"You used to always be very friendly, I knew you really well. We knew each other from high school, but suddenly you're gone for a month and come back like this."

Part of me gets what he is talking about, but the other part of me is just angry that he even came to ask me about this matter.

"You sound like you want something from me. What is it?"

"I want my friend back."

I shake my head and whisper: "That's impossible."

Jimmy looks at me with a face as if he is about to start crying: "If you don't tell me the truth... I will tell everyone." He suddenly says rather certain of himself: "I even have evidence."

I can't bear to look at him and just mumble back to him: "Fine, after work... I will show you."

After work is finally finished I get my stuff and take my coat to leave.

I'm stopped by Jimmy: "We're going together, remember?"

"Don't worry, I didn't forget." I grumble without looking up at him.

We walk out of the building, I don't look up, but can see snow falling slowly. There isn't much yet, so the buses should still drive normally.

"Where are we going?" Jimmy asks curiously and even a little anxious.

"To the place where you will get your answer."

It might be mean, but I really have to take him there.

We walk to a nearby bus stop, deserted by all of the living.

Might as well continue our conversation: "So, by 'other being' what do you think I am?" I ask.

"I saw you walk through a wall, maybe you are a ghost?"

"A ghost?" I laugh joylessly: "Are you sure?"

"No, not at all." He shakes his head: "You might even be an alien at this point, you look just like my friend after all."

"A doppelganger, or a clone then?"

"Maybe... you might even be an evil fairy at this point."

"Evil fairy? That's too kind of a thing to say for you, you're not going with zombie? Or even vampire?"

"If you were a zombie it would have been obvious and I have never heard of a vampire being able to look like someone else."

"Vampires can shapeshift into bats, why not other humans?"

He takes a step back: "So you're a vampire?"

"No, of course not."

The bus arrives and I shake off the snowflakes that have landed on me, I really stood that still.

The door opens and we get inside the warm vehicle.

Even the bus seems to be empty, it's only us here. So I decide that it's safe enough to talk again.

The snow outside has started falling quicker now, was the weather back then like this as well? I don't remember.

"So..." Jimmy asks: "What are you then? And what happened to the real you?"

"You will know when we are there." I answer cryptically.

Though I don't seem to be able to stop him from asking questions.

"Are you two friends?"

I shrug.

"Are you identical twins or something? If so, why have I never met you? Maybe a robot?"

I look outside, ignoring his stupid question.

It doesn't take long for the bus to arrive at the place we need to be.

I press the button.

"Where are we going, this is in the middle of nowhere?"

Ignoring him again I get out, immediately we are greeted by the cold.

It has gotten dark already, so I turn on the flashlight on my phone. There are no street lights here after all.

"It's just a little further." I tell my impatient colleague.

We walk further through the dark and the cold snow.

"It's here..." I whisper, barely being able to talk thanks to the cold and low energy.

Jimmy looks around: "Here? There is nothing here. Are you just joking around? Do you think this is funny? Or could this be a plan for you to get rid of me?" I can hear anger in his voice.

"Please stop..." I whisper, but this time he is the one ignoring me, ranting on.

"You're such a jerk!" The harsh words left my lips before I knew it.

He turns to look at me and his expression turns into one of shock or maybe even worry. It takes me a second to realize why: drops on the ground have started to appear. Melting away the snow. It's not the rain, it's the tears falling down from my face.

Why doesn't he get it? Why won't he understand?

It hurts so much.

Even though my body had gone ice-cold, I can still feel the heat from the wreckage of that day.

Swiftly with a wild gesture of my arms I point to the road.

"This is where you left me... and where I changed."