The Puddle

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 :)

in the rain

A short horror story I wrote

Word count: 1848

TW: Blood, death, confusion

The sound of the gentle tapping of the rain on my window awakens me.

Just by glancing over at the window I can see the dark autumn sky even though it must still be around noon.

Slowly I get up from the couch, I must have dozed off for a minute or so.

I walk over to my kitchen to see if there is anything to eat.

Opening all the cabinets and finally the freezer, I discover that I'm all out of food.

Damn, I forgot, it's grocery day today... and I still have to go out with this shitty weather.

Still I ready myself to go outside, I take my dark green raincoat and a bag.

I put on my shoes and finally leave, locking the door behind me, walking towards the nearest bus stop.

I know I'm being lazy, walking that distance can be done in about half an hour, but still this weather seems to only be getting worse.

As I turn around to face the weather I feel the cool breeze going through my coat and the water gliding off my face.

A greeting from the outside, a cold and wet greeting.

Quickly I make a run for the bus stop.

Each time one of my feet hit the middle of a puddle, the water flies around me, making me feel like a little kid playing in the rain.

It takes a couple of minutes for me to reach the small square hut, known locally as the bus stop.

I live in the middle of nowhere anyway.

As I finally lay eyes on it I almost dive for cover under the roof.

I know it doesn't really matter, I'm already soaked, but still, it brings me comfort.

Immediately I notice that I'm not alone.

Someone else is standing beside me.

Most likely also waiting for the bus to come.

Their face is obscured by their coat... Their dark green coat.

Did he get it at the same store as me?

For a while we awkwardly stand next to each other, not speaking a word, or perhaps letting the rain itself do the talking.

Cold seconds pass slowly and eventually I can't take it anymore.

"So... uhh... the weather is pretty bad, éh?"

I know the question is bad, small talk is not everyone's favorite, but worse than that, I don't get a response at all.

And we are back at listening to the rain and just standing next to one another, but this one more awkwardly than before.

The person next to me didn't show any sign of even hearing me.

Finally the bus arrives and I get on.

I look back, but the person behind me doesn't seem to be moving in the slightest.

Does he even breathe? I really can't tell.

"Hey man? Didn't you need to take the bus too?" I call over to him, gesturing that he can go in, but again he doesn't move at all.

I shake my head and then turn it towards the bus driver.

Unlike the usual uniform, they seem to be wearing another dark green raincoat. Almost exactly like mine, or perhaps it's completely the same...

I show the chauffeur my ticket, but he doesn't move a muscle.

Quietly I turn around to look further inside the vehicle.

It's almost completely empty, except for a few strangers dressed with the same dark green jacket.

For a moment I hesitate.

Do I really want to be on this bus?

But then the squeaking doors behind me close, cutting off my only escape route.

Obediently I take a seat, trying not to look around me and just stare out of the window.

When the bus finally comes to a halt at my stop I get out as fast as I can.

Strangely enough this is the first stop it made, no one got on and no one got off.

As I step outside, I am greeted by more rain, falling down even heavier than before.

Quickly I race towards the store and feel a sense of relief wash over me as I finally reach the entrance and hear the familiar chime.

The bright light hurts my eyes, it's a lot brighter than outside after all.

I let out a shivering sigh from the cold. It might be less warm here than outside, or perhaps it's because of how wet my clothes have gotten.

The water has gone right through my coat after all.

I notice my breath leaving my mouth in small clouds and rub my hands together for some warmth.

I guess it must be cold here after all.

Carefully I look around, it seems that I'm the only customer inside the store.

I should probably hurry up, I'm not sure if there will be many buses leaving after I'm done with shopping.

I take a shopping cart and start to move around the store.

Taking with me things for breakfast, things for lunch, things for dinner and of course some snacks.

Eventually I find myself next to an aisle that's entirely empty.

"How strange..." I mutter to myself: "I was sure these were filled just last week..."

I take a few steps back, towards the fridges where they keep milk and stuff.

Something about it seems off.

Carefully I take a closer look.

It looks like all the cartons of milk from the highest shelf to the lowest have all been cut in half in a straight row.

No, cut isn't the word.

More like half of it has been melted off.

The contents are spilled all over the floor.

As I inspect the next row, I see that these all have half-faded packaging.

I look up to find a huge dark stain on the ceiling above it, water is slowly dripping down onto those products and the floor.

It's almost as if the rain is washing it all away.

Quickly I leave for the check-out and find another one behind the counter.

A person, dressed with the same raincoat as mine, somehow still with a faded nametag on their chest, too faded to read.

Honestly it looks a bit silly.

Their hood is up and they look down, causing me to be unable to see their face just like with the others before.

I greet the 'worker' like normal even though he doesn't move at all and I hand them the money, which they don't take either, so I place it before them.

"Keep the change." I say, trying to joke away the fear I feel inside.

That is the truth after all.

I'm scared.

I'm terrified.

I'm terrified, but I don't want to let it show.

Everything about this day has been strange.

Normally I don't fall asleep during the day, normally I don't take the bus to the store, normally I don't stand waiting for a bus with a stranger...

Then there's the fact I haven't seen a single familiar face since I woke up. Why isn't anyone here when usually this store is filled with people I know?

I pick up the pace, too scared to look behind me.

What if they did move?

What if they did move, but only if I wasn't facing them.

What if they were right behind me, staring at me from underneath those hoods?

What if they wanted to do something to me?

I shake my head and enter the rainy and windy outside world again.

The rainfall has gotten even heavier.

I can barely keep my eyes open from all the water pouring down, only able to open them again as I blindly enter the bus stop.

This time I'm alone.

Though I doubt if that really is the case.

I mean, what if they're watching?

While waiting for the bus to come I look at my sleeve.

The dark green fabric has been completely soaked.

Why is it that we all wear the same? I think to myself.

Where and when did I even buy such an ugly thing?

I have another one, a blue one... right?

No, now that I think about it I'm not so sure.

This rain... it's making it difficult to remember.

The bus finally arrives for me to go home again.

Trying to avoid the spats coming from the sky, but failing, I enter the vehicle.

It's cold here too.

Like in the store small clouds leave my shivering mouth.

I look at the driver.

It's one of them again.

Or am I supposed to be one of them?

My coat shows our resemblance.

My hood is still up too.

I take it off and smile at the driver.

"Good afternoon sir, bad weather we're having, don't we?"

Suddenly I hear something moving in the back of the bus.

Multiple people dressed like me are sitting there, more than before.

All of them seem to stare at me from underneath their dark hoods.

I smile at them too, but now that I'm looking at them too they have stopped moving again completely.

The door behind me closes and I take a seat.

Everything feels so unwelcoming, it makes me feel a bit sad.

Looking outside of the window I appreciate the beautifully dreary scenery from my home.

It looks like the water levels have been rising far.

Much further than it normally would.

Almost like the water is trying to swallow it all up.

I'm glad I live up high.

We drive past a small cliff.

I look down at the water through the window.

The rain is still relentlessly hitting the windows, coming down unforgivingly at the windows, making me scared that it could shatter them any moment.

It has become a droning noise overtaking any thought I might have had as suddenly, I feel light.

Everything starts feels like going in hyper speed.

The bus has made a turn.

A turn off the cliff.

And we hit the water before I even realized what was going on.

It's all going so fast and yet, none of them moved even an inch.

All of the other 'passengers' keep sitting the way they sat before, not even trembling because of the fall. Making it look like they were plastic figures glued to their respective benches.

Windows break and water starts to pour in even faster than the rain.

Loudly I curse and get up from my seat in a daze.

My head is pounding terribly, did I hit something?

I'm not sure.

It just hurts.

The vehicle starts to sink and I start to panic.

A heavy tree branch falls through one of the small windows in the ceiling.

I jump back, but then see that it has shattered the entire window and created a way for me to get out.

The water is rising higher and higher and I reach for the window.

Now the people in the bus do start to move.

In a strange and shocking way.

Moving like they have never used a limb before.

Crawling around, stumbling around, a strange form of swimming.

Shit!

They're coming for me!

They're coming for me!!

They get closer and closer with their strange movements.

Trying to wrap their arms around me.

As I feel their freezing cold fingers touch me I kick around me as hard as I can.

"Stay away!" I yell: "Stay the Hell away!!"

Desperately I hold on to the branch.

The first few already have their hands wrapped around my ankles.

"Let me go!!!" I yell, kicking and screaming.

More hands.

And then they start to grip and pull.

The gray light from the sky starts to grow distant, my head is getting closer to the water.

The heavy rain has started pushing me down now too.

Pushing back my hands, letting me slide back down.

I've never seen or even felt a rain storm this heavy, it feels like it's trying to get rid of me.

Trying to clean this place by getting rid of me.

Like a ghost town being washed away by the rain...

Trainride at night

A short horror story I wrote a while ago

Word count: 1208

TW: Gore, body horror, blood

For so far I could see and hear, the train seemed to be entirely empty. There was no movement or other sounds either, except for my own.

A soft krrsss can be heard as I turn a page of the book I'm holding.

Outside its dark. Not just dark that you can see something, no it is pitch black. Like the windows are just painted walls or someone put the plastic bags made for trash cans onto the windows.

Bored I stare at the unmoving words in the book I am holding in my hand. Too tired to actually read them. Too tired from the long day, but it's not like I have anything better to do anyway.

With my elbow I lean against the window in order not to fall asleep.

"ugh..." I sigh annoyed as I slam my book shut, I can't stay awake if I keep staring at my book!

I look around, but the only movement is that of the moving vehicle as it gently drives over the railway tracks. It drives so gently and quietly it almost sounds like humming. The sound is not annoying in any way, but doesn't help me with staying awake.

Even if the train drives so quietly, it is still going quite fast.

Sudden all the lights go out and it becomes even darker.

I can't see the windows.

I can't see my hands.

I can't see the closed cover of my book.

I can't see anything.

It is almost as if the world stopped existing, the only proof of it not being the case is the soft humming of the train wagons.

I am tired.

So tired.

I wonder if the train driver has forgotten that they still have one passenger, but we are still driving and we haven't passed my station yet.

Blinded by the darkness I feel around for my bag and take out my phone.

Too Bright!!

I shield my eyes from the light from my phone as I try to find the flashlight function.

My tired eyes really seem to need the extra time adjusting to the light.

I look around, something was off.

Not my seat, but all the others looked... thorned up and very old.

Weird, I'm sure that this is a relatively new train.

I quickly put my book in my bag and decide to look around. I don't feel safe to just sit in one place.

I decide that the best option is to look for the driver, so forward it is.

With my light forward and holding trying to keep away the fear, I walk through the seemingly endless train.

After a bit I notice that everything in the train starts looking worse, missing seats and then broken glass.

All of a suddenly another train passes mine, the lights are on, but no one seems to be on it... wait no, someone is there.

A strange figure stands by the window, as I look closer I see the familiar shape of myself.

It's me.

But wrong.

The head is twisting too fast for a human and bones are sticking out of its body.

I can see my ribs poking holes out of the chest with blood streaming down.

Both trains seem to be going the same speed now and I stand facing the other me, without saying a word I stare at it, readying myself for anything.

Then the head stops twisting and it stares at me with one eye hanging loosely over the right cheek.

I quickly take a step back.

"Who..." I whisper, but as I try to speak the other me shakingly puts a finger against its lips.

I try to breathe normally, but it is getting more and more difficult.

After a staring contest (and battle for me not to empty my stomach here) it suddenly jerks an arm pointing to my left.

What the hell?!

Don't go to the front of the train, go back.

Was that a voice in my head? Or did I say that out loud? How much is the other me able to take control?

"Right..." I whisper as I back off further, walking in the direction 'me' wants me to go.

A creepy smile appears on 'my' face, not mine, not mine at all.

Quickly I start running, I almost drop my phone thanks to my sweaty hands.

Luckily there is still some light from the other train, but on the other hand it creates many creepy shadows and sometimes it looks like other people are sitting or standing around me.

I run as fast as I can until my breath has all run out and I fall to the ground gasping for air.

I got to keep going.

I got to keep...

I got to...

I got...

I...

Darkness consumes my vision like many hands appearing and blocking my view.

Screaming doesn't work, something is blocking my mouth from opening.

.

.

.

As I open my eyes I see that the trains lights are working again, the other train is gone and I'm lying on the floor.

Did all of that really happen?

No, there is no way.

Carefully I get back up on my feet again and pick up my phone.

Oh crap, the screen is scratched. Well, hopefully I can get it repaired.

I turn it on, it still seems to work.

Something catches my eye, my phone's battery is 48%...

I could have sworn I had less than that, like 30% or something.

I put the device in my pocket and walked the way I was going before I collapsed.

Sssrrkkk....

Sssrrrkkk...

What is that noise?

It sounds like it is coming from a few seats in front of me.

Quickly I walk towards it, hoping to find another living human being that doesn't have bones sticking out.

Someone seems to be reading a book.

Again?

It is another me again, no blood this time though.

Quietly so as not to make a noise I walk by, when I stop, two steps apart, the other me stops turning the pages.

I take a step back, they suddenly turn a page again, the other way this time.

Don't tell me.... Is that 'me' in reverse of me?

When I take a step forward 'I' do it again.

So It really is reversed, now that I think of it, the train sounds different, so... is this also?

I don't get it, I want to get out!

I quickly run past myself to make sure I don't get attacked.

The thought of breaking a window jumps in my mind, but I don't want to attract any unwanted attention.

As I run I see another me and another me.

Everyone of them, doing something different or sitting somewhere else.

All of a sudden the sound of something breaking behind me catches my attention and I turn around to look.

It seems to be nothing at first, but then something else breaks again...

It's the lights.

One by one, like the darkness decided to walk toward me and with each one, it goes faster.

Again I run, passing by more other me's.

I can hear someone speaking behind me, but it all sounds like it is in reverse.

When I look behind me I bump into another me standing close to a door.

"Get out, get out!" I yell.

"Get OUT!!!"

I look up from my phone, did someone just talk to me?

I look outside, it is dark outside the train like usual around this time.

The humming of the vehicle almost makes me fall asleep.

The train comes to a halt.

Is this my stop?

Seems like it.

I press the button for the doors to open and after a second they do.

As they open and I step aside, my reflection appears rather strange.

Was I just smiling? Like really creepy?

The fears of an inanimate object

I wrote this one a while ago, but still found it fun to share.

I hope you enjoy this short horror story:)

TW: Gore, blood, dolls

Word count: 1534

I have gotten so used to the smell, I don't even notice it anymore.

It's the smell of old books, old people and old junk.

I've sat here, day in, day out. Never able to do anything. I can't move or speak. I can't even blink.

My head has always been fixed in one position and that is forward.

I am like many in this old thrift store, an old, dusty object.

I am a doll.

I know I am, I've seen myself in a mirror before, that's when they brought me here and it is my very first memory.

It honestly is very strange, I am an inanimate object with thoughts and feelings, yet I can't do anything or let anyone know.

I was quite upset and shocked when I found out. Scared, but unable to show the emotion. Wanting to scream but unable to tell anyone. Unable to move, but wanting someone to comfort me.

That was the worst part of my being.

I just woke up, learning that my life held no meaning and I would never be able to do anything or be loved by anyone.

I hated it.

I hated my existence.

I hated whomever put me here.

I hated my creator, yet there is nothing I can ever do about it.

So I just sat here. Always in the same place, always dressed the same, always looking the same. Always with a little extra layer of dust covering me. Always praying. Always hoping for a change.

I've seen the sun come up and go under for a long time now, from a tiny window in the back of the store. Each time it came, it took a little bit of color from the objects in its way. Until they turned gray and were thrown out.

I was lucky, the sun never shone on me, it couldn't. So the light just lurked ever so slightly under my feet. Like a hungry predator, waiting for its prey to run. But I of course would never move, so it just left every time it had to go again.

At some point, I got jealous of the sunlight, it was able to shine. It was able to move. It was always there for the people and animals and I could or would never be able to.

Such a stupid thing to be jealous of.

I was even more jealous of the tiny birds by the window, as short as their lives might be, they were my only source of entertainment.

The birds sang to one another and could fly, they could travel. Oh how much I wished that I would have been born a bird and not an inanimate doll.

I've seen people come and go, I've seen them get older and then eventually one day they just stopped coming and new people took their place.

Take me home, take me home...

I silently wished.

But who would listen to the pleading of a voiceless doll, an object without a soul.

Something that can't do anything or even think.

Well of course they are wrong at that last part. I am very lucid after all.

Unfortunately...

Then one day, The happiest day of my inanimate life, a little girl and her mother came to visit the store.

The girl saw me.

As soon as she did, her eyes started sparkling. I've never seen anyone's eyes do that before. Especially when they saw me.

The girl almost seemed to fly towards me, that's how quick she was.

She was the very first person that would speak to me.

"Hello Dolly, what's your name? Do you wanna be friends?" Her little arms stretched out to me in a hug.

I've never had a hug before, it is so warm. I wanted to cry, but of course I couldn't.

I wanted to tell her to please take me away from here, oh please.

Of course I wanted to be her friend, I've always wished for one and she would be my first.

It was like she could read my mind.

She begged her mother to get me for her.

Her mother wasn't too sold on the idea at first and called me 'that creepy old thing', but her daughter didn't care.

She wanted me and started to throw a fit, then the shopkeeper said that they could have me for free.

What a nice guy.

Now the mother couldn't refuse anymore and she gave in.

"Fine, but keep that thing away from me." She told the little girl, while looking at me like I was a dirty old sock.

Well I forgive her, I was too happy anyway. I had been here for god-knows-how-long and even the spiders didn't like me.

And so, I left the old thrift store and started anew with a new family and a best friend.

Molly (the little girl) and I did a lot of things together, she would dress me up at least 17 times a day. With clothes her grandmother had made for me. She told us that she once had a doll like me, that also looked very similar. She was also able to repair and clean me a bit and after that I had become a lot prettier.

After all that, even Molly's mother didn't even feel that bothered by me anymore.

We had tons of tea parties and Molly had of course given me a full tour of the house and introduced me to all the other dolls and stuffed animals.

I knew all their names by heart. I wonder if any of them were like me, but there wouldn't be any way of knowing.

I might not be able to do or say anything, but I really did have the time of my life there.

I have a home.

We would eat breakfast together, we would go on walks together. We would talk about anything, well more like I would listen, but I really don't mind.

Unlike other kids, Molly is a very gentle soul and always takes very good care of me. She has never even dropped me, not even by accident.

One day school had started for her again, we met during the summer holiday after all.

I felt sad to let her go, she wasn't allowed to take me with her.

Every time she came home, she looked a bit upset. She seemed to try to hide.

One day she asked me: "Dolly, can I ask you something?"

I could see tears welling up in her reddish eyes. "Dolly, do you hate me too?"

This broke my heart.

Of course I didn't hate her.

I would never.

She was my dearest friend.

My personal hero.

I felt awful, I couldn't do anything. I hadn't felt like this in a while, it was like I was back in that awful dark place. Where I would never be able to do anything.

I want her to be happy.

She doesn't deserve whatever she's dealing with right now.

Not with how kind and gentle she is.

And yet, I just can't do anything...

I wanted to talk to her, I wanted to support her or at least to be supported. Her mother is quite busy and didn't always seem to notice.

I wish I could let her know, even if it is only her.

But I am just an inanimate object, incapable of speech.

Tonight something awful happened...

Someone broke in.

It was unplanned, he didn't seem to know the layout of the house.

The burgler was probably looking for valuables.

Only Molly and her mother were at home that night.

Both asleep.

The man accidently entered the wrong room.

Molly and my room.

Molly is a very light sleeper and woke up by the gently creaking door.

She noticed the bugler and started to scream.

So he hit her, he didn't want any witnesses.

He was desperate.

He would even kill to get his prize.

He hit her again with his bat.

And again.

I could do nothing but watch this horrible scene in front of me.

I wanted to scream.

I wanted to save Molly.

He hit her again and she stopped crying, bleeding heavily.

Something snapped in me.

My emotions, but also my shackles which had kept me stuck for so many years.

I was going to kill him.

This man... had to go.

I don't know how, but I got out.

Out of my cell, which was my body.

Out of my dusty prison.

I shattered the room's window and with the glass shards, I pinned the man against the ceiling.

Anger.

Anger was the only feeling.

Anger and rage. Then maybe, also hate.

He screamed.

He cried.

It made me feel something... like joy.

Blood dripped down like a slow waterfall, creating a pool on the wooden floor.

Blood stained the carpet.

Bleed more...

BLEED MORE!!!

I think I killed him.

Did I go too far?

He stopped crying.

He stopped screaming.

Molly's mother runs into the room to save her.

I quickly return to my body, she probably hasn't seen me.

She screamed when she noticed the man on the ceiling.

She got her daughter out of that room as soon as possible, leaving me behind.

Leaving me behind in the mess I made.

I can see blue and red flashing lights outside.

The cops have arrived.

The paramedics as well.

Molly seemed to have had a slight concussion, lucky girl.

I'm so glad, it didn't get any worse.

Molly doesn't really know what happened though, probably just her child mind keeping her protected.

It has been a week and Molly is ready to return to school again.

And I guess I'm lucky too, it is take-your-toy-to-school day.

Molly has promised to take me.

I'm glad.

Now I can find out who made her upset like before.

And now I can do something about it.

With my new power, I will surely be able to make her happy again.

The puppet master

A short horror story I wrote.

Word count: 777 (Lucky number:) )

TW: Body horror, psychological horror & gore

The room is dark.

Is it even really a room?

I don't know.

But there are stage lights, so it's probably a room.

The stage lights are for my puppet show.

I control all here.

I am the puppet master here.

An invisible jester.

A magician without a wand.

And a wordless storyteller.

It's a magical show and I am the one in control of the puppets.

It is a show about life and a show about death.

A show of the fortunate.

A show of the unfortunate.

An everyday story.

An awesome adventure.

Out of all the puppets, there is one in peculiar, that I have the most control over. It is also the one that takes the most out of me.

There is a crimson thread coming out of each of my fingers, like that of the veins in a body.

Maybe they are my veins.

I don't know, it's not important.

Four parts of the legs, two of the arms, one for the body, one for the neck, one for the head and one for the facial emotions.

I, of course am also able to control the others to a certain extent, their crimson threads are bound to my own arms, legs and neck.

Maybe we are alike.

It might look a little silly, but even so my control over them is almost flawless.

This is going to be another great show.

This is going to be another great day.

Another hope for applause.

Another hope for approval.

In this room, where the audience goes unseen and the light only shines on my puppet show.

Honestly I'm not sure if there even really is an audience, but it doesn't matter.

No time.

The show starts.

And the curtains rise.

The protagonist wakes up and gets ready for its work.

As the public watches the puppet moving as if it was alive, I can hear some gasps.

Did I really?

Perfect, it is all going smoothly.

After a long day being overworked it returns home for a late dinner.

It decides to watch tv.

The crowd seems to have gotten bored. Maybe I should let something weird happen the next day.

At night the protagonist stares up at the ceiling, wishfully hoping for change in its repetitive and stressful life.

I can show this without sound, without words. Just the movements, lights and the face.

Some audience members seem to relate.

Isn't this all just in my head?

The next morning, the same routine starts.

It is stressing me out, I can hear their dissatisfaction.

Continuing, something happens at work.

Something bad.

The protagonist is treated worse than before.

The audience seems to be more interested in the plot now.

This problem seems to be getting worse and worse by day and yet the protagonist bottles it all up.

I let it seem like it has been bottling things up, it is a puppet after all. It doesn't have feelings.

Now I'm planning for the protagonist to make a heroic comeback, because that's what my audience loves after all.

A new day and more anticipation than before, because this might be the day and if not, it will most definitely be the day after.

The protagonist meets the bully.

Not yet, please not yet. Later is better, later is good...

Then suddenly a thread snaps.

It is the one controlling the emotions.

Voiceless I scream.

It hurts.

It hurts.

It hurts really bad.

Blood is pouring out of the thread, turning it gray.

So it was a vein?

The empty darkness is shocked.

This is not heroic at all!

As I try to grasp for control, I lose it all.

One by one they snap, leaving me in anguish.

So much pain.

All threads turn grey.

Yet I can't scream or cry.

The public starts booing.

They are already bored, they wanted a hero.

They wanted an interesting story.

A totally unique story.

A story they could relate to, but also making them feel better.

A story so strange, but also so normal.

Real and fake.

I need to change something.

I need to do something!

But then after my puppet has started yelling and hitting the others, the other threads snap.

The threads of the others.

Blood is everywhere and I have gotten numb from the pain.

The audience is disgusted by the sight of the bloody battlefield, that is the small stage.

My puppet show is ruined.

After all the other puppets have been ripped apart, 'my' puppet turns around to face me.

It's face filled with broken emotions.

It is broken.

They are broken.

Slowly the protagonist walks my way.

Were they always this tall?

Was the size just an illusion?

Maybe it is magic...

Step by step they get closer.

Each step sounding more human than the last.

The protagonist is approaching and I have nothing to defend myself with.

No weapons.

Not even words.

I only have the broken threads, the threads that were supposed to control everything.

I look to my sides for help.

Only the ignoring darkness stares at me.

Watching, blind eyed.

I wasn't good enough.

I'm not real.

It seems I was the puppet all along.

The only 'it' in this play was me.

Brother

This is the first short horror story I'm posting here on tumblr, I hope you like it and if you do. Please check out my Wattpad:

https://www.wattpad.com/user/Ardenla

TW: Gore, psychological horror

My brother has always been very kind. Not just to me, but also everyone and everything around us. We live together with our uncle in a nice house with a big garden. Honestly, the house might be a bit to the bigger side. I'm pretty sure we could fit another small family here, but I'm happy with just the three of us. My uncle is a pretty good cook too! And my brother and I do quite good at school and both have some friends.

Even so, something is wrong.

It has to do with my brother.

He is special. Unfortunately not always in a good way.

The first time it happened was during the accident that robbed us of our parents.

The car got crashed horribly, after it had been upside down a couple of times. It all happened somewhere in the middle of nowhere. I don't know exactly what happened, but at some point in time I had flow out of the car. I don't really remember, but I was surrounded by white. Someone was holding me and protecting me.

This was the first time that I saw my brother's angel.

They look alike. Both have the same face and body, but their eyes, hair and clothes are very different. The angel mostly looks calm unlike my brother, who shows a lot of his emotions. I'm not saying that showing emotions is bad. I honestly prefer my brother's emotional side, to the angel's cold side.

When the ambulance arrived, it took them a while before they were able to save my brother from the wreckage, he had been unconscious and didn't remember anything about the accident. Our parents unfortunately didn't make it. I don't remember crying so much as I did back then, it all still feels like a haze. That maybe in a few minutes the doorbell will ring and that I can see their faces again, that it was all just a horrible nightmare.

When the paramedics asked me about what had happened, I told them that my brother saved me. Or at least someone who looked like him. They looked at me with pity in their eyes, they carefully told me that it wasn't possible, but I insisted until they shrugged and gave up.

Are you familiar with the story that everyone has an angel and a demon on their shoulders? The ones you sometimes see in old cartoons or read about in old books? My mother always loved to tell me those stories. When they were still alive we would go to church quite often, but uncle thinks it's useless to go. Now we only go with our grandmother from time to time and with Christmas of course. Our mother believed in angels, I hope she is in heaven now.

I'm telling you this, because my brother doesn't only have an angel... He has a demon too. One that almost looks exactly like him, but like the angel is just slightly different. The demon is scary and seems to always be angry and full of hate. He hasn't hurt me, but he hasn't been nice either.

They're both just as tall as my brother and when they appear they are always standing close to him.

I wanted to tell our uncle, but my brother didn't want me to tell him. So I promised to keep it a secret. Pretty cool secret, huh? That is what I thought at first too, but I was wrong to think that.

The first time that I saw the demon, was when an older man tried to kidnap me. It happened close to the empty playground that we actually aren't allowed to go to. The man grabbed me by my wrist, it hurt, so I screamed for my brother who fortunately was just inside the hut we had built before.

My brother ran towards me, also screaming. Then it happened. His demon appeared, right before the man could take me inside a building. My brother's demon grabbed the man's arm. He squeezed it. He kept squeezing and didn't let go. The old man started screaming, burns started to form everywhere on his body and he let me go.

I ran to my brother, who then took me back home as quickly as possible. We never played anywhere near there again. We didn't tell uncle either. We just couldn't. My brother was scared, and because he didn't know yet, I told him about his angel, who saved me. This was when we made the promise to keep it a secret.

From this experience I learned that my brother has none or almost no control over his angel and demon. They usually just do some of the things that he was planning for even a second and come out when they 'feel' needed. Unfortunately this has cost the life of the neighbor's dog, the demon killed it.

Another thing that seems to be bad about my brother being able to somehow summon these two, is that it takes a lot of energy out of him. He gets easily tired and when they are both out, my brother will most likely pass out soon after.

Even though this has made my brother's life significantly difficult, he is always there for me and always ready to protect me. His kindness and strength makes me feel useless sometimes. So I always try to take extra good care of him too. I talk to him when I think he needs it or bake him cookies.

Last week something bad happened, something really, really bad. A friend of our uncle came by, or at least he claimed he was and us being the stupid kids we were back then let him in. Our uncle is a cop and this guy claiming to be his friend was actually a criminal, that wanted to emotionally destroy him. After my uncle arrested his friends. He wanted to kill us. That was supposed to be our last day. The day we might have joined our parents. But of course, the man had it wrong all along. He didn't know anything, he didn't know my brother and what would happen if he would hurt me.

One of the first things the man did when he closed the door, was stab me with a knife. It all happened too quickly, even though I screamed my lungs out, I didn't feel anything. I couldn't even hear my own screaming. My brother rushed to my aid. Both his angel and demon appeared.

His angel came to me, took the knife out and healed me. The demon on the other hand, went rampant. He ripped the scared intruder into a thousand pieces and when he was done he burned his screaming face beyond recognition. It was terrifying, I have never seen something as brutal as that and hopefully never again. I have never seen so much blood, it was everywhere. My brother who had tried to stop his demon, had collapsed and lied passed out on the floor. There was blood on the windows, guts even on the ceiling and some wall's had just turned completely black. For a few minutes I didn't even know where we were. When slowly some of the blood dripped down from the window, I could see the room. A couple of small beams of red light shone into the room.

Hell.

The only thing I could call that room.

Did a human really die in here? There is almost nothing left.

When my uncle came back, he of course, was very shocked to see his traumatized cousins covered in blood, in his ruined house, with bits-and-pieces everywhere from some unidentifiable person. The room, dark from blood. So much blood...

The police were quickly alerted and we were questioned, when my brother was back on his feet again of course. I was surprised when my brother told them the truth, he was crying and said he was afraid of what he might do to the people he cares about when the demon goes out of control again. Our uncle's colleagues had a difficult time keeping in their laughs at first, but soon after one snickered, the demon came out again. Attacking them. They were shocked and some of them froze up. Just in time my brother jumped in front, which caused him to get some really nasty burns.

My uncle didn't know what to say or do. He just stood there and stared with a horrified expression.

I ran to my brother first, I saw his wounds and tried to calm him down. While the officers looked terrified, I begged them to please not take him away. This fell on deaf man's ears unfortunately.

Another kind of police group was sent soon after what happened. A group that deals with the more 'special' kind of incidents. They weren't as nice as our uncle's friends. They took my brother away, the entire time he didn't want to look us in the face. Even when our uncle found his composure and tried to comfort him. He was taken, cuffed in a special van. I watched helplessly as they drove off.

I know it has only been a week, but I've not had a good night sleep yet, nightmares plague me day and night. I am getting counseling so it should get less with time.

My uncle and I are staying somewhere else, because everything still needs to be further inspected and of course deep cleaned. I honestly don't want to return there, I don't believe that, that place can ever be called 'home' again. Just thinking about it gives me chills and makes me want to puke.

Since nobody I know well enough died, I still have to go to school. My uncle did call me in sick for the first few days, but since the day before yesterday I go to school again. I don't like it, but we don't have a choice, the school is very strict. Uncle also said that it might be good for me, that it might take my mind off those terrible things that happened just a week ago.

My first day of school went as normal as if nothing ever happened, I lunched with friends who still believe I just got a cold and did the work that was given to me by my teachers. I'm not ready to tell them what happened just yet, how would I even start?

My uncle has brought me to school every day. The car has never felt this empty as I looked at the place my brother would sit. We don't talk much anymore and when I asked him about my brother, he didn't answer and just shook his head. He didn't want to believe what happened yet. I know it was hard on him too, no matter how much he tried to hide it.

I wish I could see my brother again, but I haven't even gotten any message from him or the officers who took him. I don't know if he's even alive. It makes me really worried.

Something strange did happen to me yesterday, I could feel someone watching me the entire day I was at school. I looked around everywhere, but there was no one.

Today was different though, well I could still feel someone watching me and following me around. But this time, when I looked carefully enough, I could see him.

It's my brother's demon.

Watching me without a break. Every time he notices me looking he starts smiling with this creepy, distorted smile.

It's still following me.

The machine that brought the dead back to life - Part 1

A slightly longer short horror story I wrote, cut into two.

Word count: 1947

Tick tock

The soft ticking of a clock echoed through a grey room.

Tick tock

Together with the rhythmic sound of the ticking clock you can hear the ticking of many fingers on many keyboards.

Tick tick tock

The tapping on the keyboards is much more out of tune compared to the ticking of the clock.

Grey tables are placed in long, neatly arranged lines from one side of the room to the other, on all of those tables sit people dressed in grey uniforms. The grey floor matches the rest.

All of this is colored in a slight blue light, caused by the many blue screens behind which these people are working.

For now, the hard working people ignore the clock, their work is more important.

Their income is more important.

Time is money.

Life is money.

All of these people had been carefully selected for working at a rather prestigious company, one that only allows a select few to enter their offices.

They have these selections for even the lowest of the ranks, such as these.

There doesn't exist a company more important than this one.

For this company controls life itself.

Life and death have been enslaved by this company.

In a city of steam and ash, this place is known as the best place to work at.

Complicated machinery is just in the other room, people can bring their loved ones back from the dead with a pricetag.

Still to leave them deceased is now being seen as immoral, because why would you let your loved ones die? No matter how much the person wanted to take the forever rest, the people that would allow it could lose their status and jobs. Sometimes they could even go to prison for cold blooded murder.

At one desk sits a woman, her name is Clara, dressed in the same uniform as the rest, typing away diligently at the computer. She types it all at an incredible speed.

Even though she is so amazing at her work, promotions are hard to come by, still she's happy with her job.

This job makes it so that she and her husband can live the life they want to, unfortunately his job has a much lower status than hers, but she loves him nonetheless. He always returns her love with the same amount, always wishing he could do more for them.

The husband, his name is Drew, makes a living as a car-repairman, machinery like that is his forte, his calling.

A small one bedroom apartment with a living room that's also the kitchen. They also have a small bathroom with only the bare necessities.

Living costs are rather high for them, causing them to almost have to live hand-to-mouth.

It has only been recently that Clara had started working at the company and their lives have already changed for the better. Food was something they could afford almost every day now, no need for living days on old bread crusts anymore. If they were to save up a bit, they might even be able to afford a bottle of wine.

Back at work Clara worked hard whilst thinking of when she could go back to the love of her life.

With their future only just beginning, they could start making plans on what to do next with their lives.

Perhaps save up money for a trip or to eat something nice one day.

A loud bell goes off and the people behind the computers start finishing up the last bits of their work, readying themselves to return to their homes.

Some chat with others for a bit before leaving, others leave quietly and speedily.

Clara says goodbye to her co-workers and takes her leave.

Through the dark streets she wanders, through the thick mist that is the smog, passing by the street lanterns that just barely show the heads of the people walking by.

Cars travel by, old-timey and repaired again and again, that it is the question if they really were the same cars as they started out as. Perhaps even the oldest parts have all been changed up.

Finally Clara makes it home, taking off her shoes before entering and embraces her beloved as he comes to greet her.

He calls to her, speaks her name, his voice tired from work, but still full of love, he had already made dinner for the two of them.

Over dinner they talk about how their day was, the work they did and their dreams for the future.

Then they rest on the small old couch by the tv.

The object looked as if it has seen better days and has been adjusted many times. Different colored plates can be seen bolted all over it. There are even some bolts that seem to have been placed at random and without purpose.

On the tv an advertisement plays, it shows the company for which Clara works causing the two to joke around about it.

Drew calls Clara 'Frankenstein's assistant' and Clara pokes fun at him for being the one to bring dead cars back to live.

The ad shows a famous person who had been brought back to life and was thanking the company that they were able to return back to working again so soon after the revival.

The teasing continues, until the pair is too tired to continue.

The next day was another day of hard work for the two, weekends aren't very common here, only certain people are entitled to it.

Like usual Clara took the smog filled streets to the giant building that was her workplace, her 'second home' the bosses would joke about.

Clara followed the crowd towards the grey room with all the desks.

Like always she sat down on her desk and started typing away.

A couple of hours later a small man wearing fancy clothes with golden buttons entered the room, he is one of the higher-ups.

He called for Clara and she turned to look at him.

What could it be, she wondered.

Is it something good? Or something bad?

Most likely it was something bad.

She could feel the anxiety in her stomach every step she got closer to the man.

The man looked at her in pity.

"Please come this way." He told her and thus she followed him.

They walked up many stairs to eventually reach the top of the building.

The top floor was much different than the basement, the building was so high, you could see above the smog of the old city and see the horizon.

Many objects were coated in gold and the people here were dressed the fanciest Clara had ever seen.

Clara and the man entered a room and she was seated at the end of a large table.

The old man in charge sat at the other end.

"Clara, I've got bad news for you." He said his voice sounded hoarse from age.

Clara's heart sank.

"Your husband, Drew, passed away."

For a moment Clara didn't know what to feel or say, but then a wave of intense sadness overcame her.

The tears came and she wasn't able to stop them.

"My condolences." The old man added, but Clara almost didn't hear it due to the screaming of her heart.

Then a desperate idea entered her mind, she turned to her boss, looked him straight in the eye and asked: "Can you please bring him back to life?"

The old man smiled: "Please Clara, you know it is much more than you can possibly pay with your salary."

"Please, I will do anything, I will work more overtime, I will, I will..." Desperation got a strong hold of her and stopped her mouth from creating words.

"I'm sorry Clara, but I will have to think about that. Please return to your work."

The small man came to send Clara back to the basement of the building and shakingly she went with him.

She couldn't stop her tears, she couldn't stop herself from desperately trying to find an answer.

Back in the grey room she sat behind her computer again, only to be unable to continue her work anymore.

She had to see her beloved, she just had to see him, dead or alive. It just didn't matter.

Finally at long last, the bell rang and Clara rushed home.

Through the smog filled streets she ran, bumping into people without apologizing, tears running down her cheeks.

When she finally arrived home she was completely out of breath, but continued on nonetheless.

But he wasn't there, the only thing the apartment was filled with, was old memories.

Old memories that would never repeat.

Old dreams that would never come into fruition.

It didn't even feel like home anymore for Clara.

There was however a letter on the floor.

It was a letter about Drew's death, it had been sent by his boss.

In the letter he asked if she could come to the small workshop and talk about what had happened.

Without locking the door, she rushed outside again, running to the place he had last been alive.

At the old workshop she found the boss who seemed to be grieving as well, he too just lost someone important to him, yes an employee, but also a friend.

They talked between tears about Drew and what they would do now.

Eventually they came to the conclusion that maybe, if they both went, they could get him back.

So together they went back to the company at which Clara worked and tried to get the boss to understand, both promising everything if it should be so.

But again the boss refused, because even together they wouldn't be able to pay the price for bringing someone back.

A couple of days went by and Clara started having more trouble with work.

The small man with the golden buttons came by her desk and asked for her attention: "We have seen how much you're struggling with the loss of your beloved, we think it would be better if you take things a bit slower." A sinister smile crossed his face, making Clara shiver.

She knew what this meant very well, she would either get fired or get demoted to the lowest part of the company.

Corruption, she thought, the company has been corrupted to the core, well perhaps it has simply always been this way.

Money this, money that.

Life seems to only be able to be saved with enough money.

Still Clara obeyed and followed the man downstairs.

They entered a room that looked just like the one she had been working in before.

It was like an exact copy, but something about it felt... amiss.

Though she could not guess what it was that made her feel that way.

The man showed her to her new desk and left.

Despairing every possible mistake she could make, she carefully typed the day away.

During it, she noticed that some of the people around her were in a much worse shape than her, some coughing, some's clothes looked more like wet rags.

But to them it didn't seem to matter, they kept doing their job, without missing a key.

At the end, the bell rang and unlike in the other room, no one said goodbye to one another. Almost like they were ignoring each other.

Far behind Clara followed them out of the room.

As they entered a dark hallway Clara lost the group.

In the dark she searched, until she finally found a door.

Believing it to be the right one, she opened it.

Artificial red colored light entered the dark hallway.

She peeked through the opening.

It took a moment for her to register what was going on.

She saw the machine.

The machine with the power to bring the dead back to life.

The machine that saved so many.

It was a really strange one, different from what was being advertised on tv.

It was one for multiple people at once.

And around the machine's fumes, were people.

Working people, even though working hours were long over.

They worked in rags, rags worse than she had ever seen before.

The people worked and worked, some clearly in pain.

Then she suddenly recognized some of the people.

Those people were ones that died, but who's loved ones couldn't pay for them to be revived again...

[TO BE CONTINUED]

Just ignore it

One of the first stories I posted on wattpad.

On there I'm at 71 short horror stories right now, I'm not sure if I will ever post all of the stories I wrote before on tumblr, but here is one.

Word count: 1105

TW: Psychological horror

I look up at the old school building, just for a second I see the cracks. The surrounding plants around it have started growing inside. Some of the windows are broken.

The broken bell goes off and it almost sounds like a muffled scream.

I quickly go inside.

Inside the right classroom I take a seat at my table, it is a scratched old table with graffiti, not done by me.

Slowly the classroom fills with my 'classmates', these dolls with keys in their backs. They enter with their rattling keys and stiff movements. Opening and closing their wooden mouths, like they are talking to one another. I can't hear them, but I'm not interested anyway.

Lastly, the 'teacher' enters leaving its books on the desk and 'starting the lesson'.

I don't care to listen to the clacking of its mouth. It doesn't matter anyway, ignoring is for the best and pretending.

At some point the 'teacher' points at me and stops.

Carefully I stand and walk towards it, followed by the empty stares of the other painted wooden faces.

It is quiet.

It has always been quiet.

My 'teacher' seems to have stopped working, so I stand behind it and gently turn it's key until it starts working again.

Then just as quietly as before, I return to my seat.

I stare out of the window, without actually observing what is happening. Well nothing is happening really. Nothing ever is.

Just nature taking over this school, this empty building.

Even during break I just stare outside, while those dolls are clacking to each other.

If I go anywhere the dolls will be mean to me, they will sometimes throw things at me or clack mean things about me. So it is better just to remain in one place. They are defective.

I return home without looking back.

I live in an old dollhouse, it's almost completely empty and always silent.

I love the silence.

I enjoy the emptiness.

The rest of the house is just like the city with plants growing everywhere, inside and outside the buildings.

All buildings are slowly breaking apart and I just ignore it.

It's all fake anyway.

It's all useless anyway.

Nothing matters here, just that I do what I have to do and return 'home'.

The next day when I go to 'school', something strange happens.

The 'teacher' introduces a new 'classmate', another doll.

With a key and a painted face, just like any other.

It takes the empty seat next to me.

The new student seems to try to get my attention, but I just start doodling in my workbooks. Pretending I don't see or hear her.

The day passes by quite quickly, and I return to my old dollhouse.

I walk up the creaking stairs and past the rotting woodwork.

In my room I stare out of the hole in the roof, at the dark, starless abyss, most people call the sky.

And just like always, another day has passed.

The next day I do the same as all the previous days.

Stare out of the window, turn a key and return to my seat.

Then lunch comes around.

The new student is getting more annoying.

It has even started jumping in front of me to get my attention, which made the other dolls clack their mouths like they were laughing.

It's becoming more and more difficult.

Then suddenly it locks it's wooden hands around my wrist.

No matter how hard I struggle, It won't let me go.

Then it started walking and I am forced to follow.

We go up to the rooftop.

"I need you to listen." The voice coming out of the doll sounds vaguely human.

While blocking the only exit, it let's go of my wrist.

What does this thing want from me? None of them ever try to contact me as long as I ignore them, why does this one do?

The new student puts a hand under its chin, then a short click could be heard.

She removes her face, I guess she was wearing a mask.

I look at her face, her nose, her eyes, her eyebrows... Everything about her looks too familiar.

She looks like...

me...

Why does she look like me?

"I need to speak with you, please listen." She pleads with my voice.

I don't like where this is going and I take a step back. She doesn't seem to mind though.

"I need you to start looking around you and not ignore everything."

I remain silent.

"Remember what the doctor told us, about the ignoring of bullies and unfortunate situations? Well he was wrong."

I stay quiet and stare past her at the door, so close yet so far away. I just want to ignore her and continue my day.

"You can't ignore everything, you've already done that too much. You need help. You need to tell others about what's going on and learn not to just take everything."

So annoying.

"I don't care... I can just ignore it." I mumble to myself.

"Please don't." the other me pleads, her eyes starting to look red and watery.

I don't answer and take a few steps closer to the door.

"No you can't leave!" She yells.

I glare at her: "You're not supposed to exist. The doctor wasn't the only one who told me to just ignore it. Everything is better this way."

Defeated, she moves aside, her head hanging down: "S-so it has already gone this far... I see, it really is too late."

In silence I continue towards the door.

As my hand brushes the door handle she suddenly seems to want to give it one more try: "This whole city will collapse on top of us! It will kill us!"

"Then let it collapse. I can't go back to the time, when I still observed, when I still listened and I still felt everything. That time was hell. It was worse than death."

"But it is not too late. You can still get the help you need, before your world will collapse!"

"I don't want it."

I shove her aside and return to class.

The classroom looks more in disrepair than before we left, but I ignore it.

As school continues on, more cracks start appearing and I haven't seen the other me since I left her.

She probably won't return.

She must have left.

Given up entirely.

Well it's not like she could change my mind or anything.

She has no power over this place, unlike me.

I don't want to leave this place.

Yes, it's empty and it's lonely.

It might all be breaking apart, but this is my only safe haven. My own place of peace and quiet.

My own safe little world.

When the teacher stops working while pointing it's finger at me again, I turn the key on his back and return to my seat.

See, it all works perfectly fine.

I'm perfectly fine.

Nothing is wrong.

As long as I just ignore it all

And then at last the cracked walls can't hold the ceiling anymore.

I can hear its creaking.

But like always... I just ignore it.

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?!

Cursed town

I've been pretty busy lately, so here a post showing that I'm still alive:)

It's a story I wrote a while back, but I hope it's still enjoyable.

Word count: 1745

TW: zombies

Am I cursed or did I become the curse?

I do not know the answer to that question that has been lingering in my mind, keeping me awake during my darkest moments.

Why did it even happen? Why me?

I probably don't make any sense to you, but I will try to help you understand.

Where do I begin?

Hmmmm....

Probably at the beginning, but where is it...

Ah, I will tell you about my village's famous cave.

The cave that gives this small town most of its money, by being a tourist spot.

It is not that well known, but for the real seekers it is here.

And it so happens that there are still quite a lot of those real seekers.

During summer almost everyone you will see here is a tourist, well also because there aren't that many locals.

I can't really call myself a local either, I moved here when I had just finished school.

I actually come from a city about 2 hours away by car.

I really miss that time, the time when I still had my freedom and strong will.

When I still had the feeling of adventure in me.

I'm not sure when it all started to change, but if I had to guess just the moving part was already a grave mistake.

I regret it, I really do.

Every night I keep wondering 'What if...', but that is even more useless.

Well continuing with my story, the cave is most famous for its beautiful system and mystic history.

It is said that it used to be home to a sorcerer. One very powerful and whom met an unfortunate end.

He was said to have been killed in his own home in a very strange manner.

No one knows why or how, but it certainly did happen.

Not just the archaeological findings show it, but I know it.

I have in fact seen him and have had a conversation with him.

Now I do have a clue about what happened.

J-just stop it and listen, for now this is what it is.

I'm telling you all this for a reason, so please just bear with me.

Okay, so when I moved here, not everything was this bad yet.

When I moved here, with my naivete, I thought it would be the place of my dreams.

That is what it was in the beginning, but after a while it became a living nightmare.

I bought my first house here.

I learned how to drive here.

There are just so many memories here.

I befriended the locals rather quickly, thanks to my appreciation of culture and history.

It was of course an old town and most of the people who live... sorry I mean lived here where the elderly.

I always loved to listen to their stories.

But unfortunately,

that is all lost now.

Again I really don't know everything that happened, but from what I gathered: People have been getting more and more annoyed about me. For my city attitude, like locking my doors in a safe town or my friends from out of town staying over.

At least, thats what I think happened...

All this they never told me, building up their irritation. Making it way worse than everything actually was.

Then one day they decided that it was enough, and basically went on a manhunt for me.

All of this was rather bizarre, I did not expect it at all. It was almost like they were possessed, like they thought I was the devil himself.

Their anger poured down on me like a heavy storm.

There was more anger, that didn't all have to do with me. They seemed to have combined everything and pushed it onto me.

I had to flee.

I ran for my life and tried to leave town.

I couldn't get through any of the entrances of the town, there were people looking for me everywhere.

So I hid in the caves, in the hope that they would stop their searching.

I locked myself into what used to be the sorcerer's home and hid in a dark corner.

After just a few minutes they found out where I was and were trying to break down the door.

Panicking, I looked around the room to find a better hiding spot.

Then through the banging of the door I heard a voice behind me.

"Here... over here... You can hide... You can be save."

At first I didn't see it, the sound came from a small butterfly sitting on the carpet.

Without thinking I removed the old carpet to find a secret well-hidden hatch.

Quickly I went in making sure they couldn't see that the carpet had been moved.

As I went into the dark and dusty room, I could hear some of my former friends and neighbors burst into the room.

I could hear them stomp on the floor, looking frantically for me. Breaking part of their precious museum.

Were they still them? I wondered leaning against the cold wall's and unknown objects that filled the room.

The air in that room was different, how long had it been since someone last had been there?

Could it have been years or even centuries?

But how? This room wasn't even so hard to find?

I sat down when I heard them leave the room upstairs. Quietly, so I wouldn't alert them.

After a while I suddenly heard the voice again, speaking softly: "Are you okay?" asking with the much needed kindness in his voice.

I shook my head and buried it in my hands.

"We are alike." It continued.

I whispered a thank you, feeling warm tears gently roll down my face.

All of the things that happened have just been too much for one day.

We remained silent for a while, until I felt a little better: "Are you the sorcerer?"

A cold breeze blew in my face.

"I have never been a sorcerer." The voice answered.

"Sorry, that is the only thing I ever hear about this place. If I may, why are you still here?"

"I can't leave until my job here is done, until I have helped someone like me... I have waited for so long."

Unsure of what to say I decided to remain quiet.

"The villagers can make you disappear, you know. They do that to most outsiders that end up staying too long."

I just nod.

"Do you want to end up like that?"

"No, preferably not."

"All right, then I will help you."

I could feel a cold hand touch mine and then I never heard the voice again.

Softly I called out for him, but he never answered again.

By the time that I decided to leave, it had gotten so cold and quiet. I couldn't hear anything from outside anymore.

The commotion outside had completely stopped, but it got strange when I finally got outside I couldn't even hear the birds.

So carefully I went and as quiet as a mouse I slipped out of the cave.

It had already gotten dark outside.

The wind blew in my face, still a bit warm for the beginning of autumn.

For the first time that day I felt pretty good, now I can finally leave this terrible place.

But of course all that hope was short lived.

I couldn't leave town.

No matter how hard I dried.

It was as if someone had built an invisible wall around the whole thing.

And since then... I am still stuck here.

After a while of trying until I was too tired I gave up.

But the weird thing was, that no one tried to hunt me down again.

Had they given up too?

When I had gathered up some energy, I decided to see what was going on.

I was even more surprised when I finally noticed that no one moved anymore.

All of them just stood, like they were frozen in time.

Like a bunch of dolls left after a child had to do something else or got bored.

On closer inspection, I found out that they did all still breathe, but there was something strange with their eyes.

All of them had these strange green-colored eyes.

Since I wasn't sure if they could wake up I hid myself in the library until the morning came.

I woke up the next morning from the sun, there still wasn't any noise outside and when I checked all the townspeople all still stood where I had left them the previous night.

I have never been more confused and it was worrying me, I was not like them and did not wish for them to die. Even if they did want me to.

Worried I went by them all, they were all covered in morning dew and ice cold, but still breathing and their hearts still beat.

The first thing I did after was to return to the library, but the search was fruitless. There aren't many books about the history of the town nor this thing I decided to call a curse.

Not only did the library's books have little to say, the internet was down too.

So I am stuck with no way of contacting the outside world.

Outside I tried to talk to one of them.

I asked what he was doing.

No answer.

I asked if this was some kind of joke.

No answer.

I asked if I could do something for him.

Again no answer.

Stressed out and angry at the man ignoring me I yelled at him.

I begged him to please just do something, to show that he was still alive.

He moved his head.

That's all.

He had moved it to look in my direction.

Nothing more, nothing less.

I wasn't sure if I had imagined it so I asked him if he could point to the nearest building.

He did.

Although it was a bit robotic and obviously lacking humanity and individuality.

Then I asked him to go back to his house.

And again he did, meanwhile I followed him.

When we arrived he just stood in front of the door.

It was like one of those old zombie stories, they did nothing if I didn't tell me to do something.

All of this was very shocking to me.

Suddenly I had all this responsibility.

Suddenly I had to care for an entire town in which I actually really didn't want to be.

Stuck with them.

Stuck with a bunch of brain dead corpses.

I used to have hope for them, but little by little I lost that.

Days went by, where I tried to keep them all alive and well. Telling them everything they needed to do in order to stay alive.

But today someone still died.

I wonder if there will be a day when I have to bury more than one.

When I have to bury the rest of town, while I will be left all alone.

I guess that when you curse someone, you mostly have to live with the pain yourself of having done something as terrible as that.

Now, have you written it all down? All that I have told you? Then people might find this message and know what happened.

Just nod if you did.