Recently I Had A Pretty Strange Dream.

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:

The not-so-genius detective

I recently decided to challenge myself to write a non-horror short story.

This is my first time attempting to write a story that is supposed to be funny.

When I told my family about this they asked me if I was sick...

Without any further ado, I would love to hear what people think of this attempt at a comedic story:)

Word count: 2076

TW: Profanity (Doesn't go much further than 'shit' though)

“And this is detective Jayden Falkenstein.”

My boss has his hand on one of the shoulders of some kid, while looking like a proud father.

“That’s your nephew isn’t it?” I remark.

The chief looks astonished: “Oh my, you’re already familiar with him?”

“No.” I answer honestly: “But I feel like there’s something you too have in common.”

The man laughs as if I was giving him a compliment: “Oh well, he’s actually a lot brighter than me.”

“You wouldn’t say.” I scan the child before me with my eyes, there’s just something… terribly annoying about him. His clothes are made of many bright colours that don’t go well together, making me believe that he might be color blind. He looks unprofessional and attracts way too much attention.

His face bears the expression of a terrified child trying to hide his fear, with a look of fake confidence that is way too easily shattered.

There’s just no way that he’s a detective.

“So, sir, is he going to work here with us? Like an intern or something?” Or is he here to be baby-sitted by one of us? I secretly add.

“Oh, no, no, no. We need my dear nephew here to help us solve something.”

“Is he good with computers?” The chief is old, maybe that’s the problem? Was an IT-guy too expensive?

“I told you before, he’s a detective.” The man’s face turns serious, he must have noticed that I’ve been having difficulty with believing him.

His nephew must really want to play detective, there’s no way he went to school for it. Let alone leave with diploma in hand.

“You two are about the same age, so I expect you two to get along.”

“Around the same age?” I ask dumbfounded. I know the chief is getting old, but does he really have such difficulty with discerning 15-year olds with those in their twenties? It’s just impossible, he doesn’t even look close. And his terrible sense of fashion…

That and I don’t believe he would even be allowed to take his first driving lessons, let alone be allowed to step inside a bar.

The kid smiles at me: “I’m twenty-five, you know. I heard that you’re two years older.”

What…?!

I shake my head: “You’re not allowed to lie to a police officer, show me your ID.” I gesture to him to hand it over.

“Officer Coldon!” The chief calls out to me in frustration.

But the ‘detective’ hands me something “Here.” he says in a kind tone.

I take the object not really taking it seriously, until the picture and text reaches my sight.

…

…

He really is…

I feel utterly flabbergasted and it takes me a bit to finally find my composure again. While double checking if the ID is real or not.

I cough: “So chief, what’s the plan?”

The man in question looks at me still slightly annoyed: “Well, we got a message from the art gallery asking for help. Someone is threatening to take down the building.”

“I see, have they had the thread on paper or via mail?”

“Paper. The author of the note mentioned something like ‘sneaking inside like a snake’.”

“Can I see it?” I unconsciously reach out, hoping for him to give it to me.

Instead the older man shakes his head: “It’s being analysed by the lab right now. And it’s almost time to go.”

“Already?” The detective asks pouting.

That really can’t be an adult…

Both me and Jaiden get sent back home to change into more formal wear.

I’m lucky that I live quite close by to the gallery itself, I can head straight to the building.

After quickly finding something I believe to be fitting for a guest, I leave my apartment behind and walk to the place the chief wants us to meet up.

It’s in a park close by, I see they were able to get a normal looking van.

Then the other thing that I notice…

As if someone had eaten rainbows and puked them back out…

I frown and try to look away from the almost glowing thing standing before me: “Hell no, you’re not getting in there dressed like that!”

Surprise, surprise… It’s Jaiden standing before me, dressed in a manner even a freezing and naked hobo wouldn’t want. That hobo would most likely prefer to die.

Unconventional, torture to the eye itself. That describes it at best. I can feel the shame… Yet he does not seem to show that at all.

He’s comfortable in that?!

Detective Falkenstein looks at me with a smirk: “Well you’re dressed way too fancy for someone just visiting a museum.”

The audacity.

Suddenly the chief pulls both of us by our collars: “Damnit, both of you, get changed!!”

Both are forced to change on the spot for more casual looking clothes.

As we enter the building I glare at my colleague that did get his way by secretly keeping his God awful looking shirt underneath, slightly better looking clothing.

The chief had decided that the two of us have to partner up. There are others that are doing the same, but are given different routes to walk.

“So, one ticket for an adult and one for a child?” The lady behind the counter asks, taking my thoughts of annoyance to another place.

“I-I’m sorry ma’am, could you repeat that?” I’m pretty sure I heard something wrong.

“One adult.” She nods towards me, speaking almost in slow motion: “And one child.” She nods to Jaiden.

Immediately I shake my head: “That’s a grown man.”

A mischievous smile crosses my colleagues face, one I don’t like the look of.

“Sorry ma’am, my dad is only joking.” He takes my arm and I do my best to resist the urge to slap it away.

The lady behind the counter smiles a little, though clearly with murderous intent when her eyes rest on me.

Then she turns back to Jaiden, a soft smile crosses her face: “Would you like to participate in the scavenger hunt?”

The idiot smiles brightly: “Yes please.”

We get the tickets and I hear the lady whisper to one of her colleagues: “He’s so polite, he really did not get that from his dad.”

The other nods, “Yeah, he probably has a much better mother.”

When we’re finally out of hearing range, I pull the detective closer to me in anger: “That’s illegal!” I whisper-yell: “With our job we need to set a good example!”

Jaiden smiles carefree: “We also aren’t allowed to stand out.”

I hate to admit it, but in a way, just a tiny bit, he has a point. I better talk it out with him later.

Or perhaps I should set him the good example.

Engrossed in the piece of paper that was handed to him earlier, he mumbles: “Hmmm… where should we go next?”

It really isn’t the time to go on a scavenger hunt.

We soon find ourselves inside a long hallway, the walls are neatly lined with many paintings each in slightly different colours and moods.

I can understand why people calls this true art, the way the emotions are showing, the dreams and ideas of their creators all come together in one-

“That one looks super ugly!” My colleague bursts out in a loud laughter.

I look at him threateningly, but he doesn’t seem to notice at all.

“That…” He points at it: “Is truly the ugliest thing I’ve ever seen. No one would want it on a t-shirt. They did call this art right? Is this the collection of the ugliest man-made squirts?”

“Jaiden!” I hiss his name at him to quiet him down, but it only seems to show him that I’m still here.

He turns to me, ignoring the emotions that I’m clearly showing and asks a question in an annoyingly casual way: “So, the scavenger hunt is asking me to give this one a name. I’m thinking of ‘barf in the barn’ or ‘shit cow exploding’…”

He’s asking me.

Damnit, how clueless can a person be?

I take a deep breath to calm myself down: “We should continue to the next.” I try to remind him. There’s no time to be loitering around here, we have a criminal to catch!

I cannot truly see what this painting means, but I bet it has something to do with the painter's hidden anger bursting out. I think to myself as we’ve entered another hallway and a painting has taken my attention.

“Ha, a six-year-old could do better.”

I’m a cop. I remind myself. Murder is a crime.

Though I need to repeat it multiple times in order for it really to seep into my mind.

Continuing on I suddenly notice someone in the crowd acting strange.

A man is staring at a painting, without moving or even blinking at all.

Is he even still breathing?

Carefully as to not get his attention I glance his way a couple of times.

Trying to concentrate, I think about what I should do.

Should I let my other colleagues in- and outside know?

Or should I-

Crunch…

Crunch……

The sound of someone eating right next to me takes me out of my train of thought.

Guess who it is…

Jaiden…

Again.

Yep. That’s right…

He’s eating a bag of chips.

I’m thinking of ripping the thing out of his hands, but he walks off just before I’m able to.

You’re not allowed to eat inside this part of the gallery! I want to yell, but he’s already stepping towards the man I’m suspicious of.

I can see him say something to the suspect and then hold up his bag of potato chips.

The suspect is taken out of his trance and smiles, accepting the offer and taking some of the chips from the bag.

The detective comes back to me: “You know officer Coldon, not everyone is a suspect. That man was simply entranced by the painting. It isn’t pretty, the painting, but to him it feels like something special.”

I would love to be allowed to hit this kid over the head.

I remain silent, trying to show in this way that I still don’t agree.

“We should go this way.”

“Why?” I ask.

Did he suddenly have a good idea?

“The scavenger hunt continues down that hall.”

I follow him, tired out by my own anger and frustration.

I want to be part of what saves this gallery, but now I’m unsure if I can really do it.

“This has to be it!” Jayden suddenly calls out.

“Please lower your voice…” I feel too tired to lecture him again.

He picks up a random looking, empty piece of paper.

“This piece of paper must have another message… like with invisible ink.”

I swear I’m done with this guy.

“There’s no way…” I say, knowing that it’s clearly bull.

Not paying attention, while taking a few steps back, he accidentally bumps into someone.

“Ah, I’m sorry.” He immediately apologizes.

I guess he does have basic manners.

“Don’t worry, it doesn't matter.” The man he walked into answers in a kind tone: “It still happens to me from time to time as well.”

“Still I’m really sorry.”

Are these two going to keep doing this or are they finally going to stop and move on?

We still have to catch someone.

“Oh right, sir, do you happen to have a lighter?” Jayden quickly asks: “I need it for the scavenger hunt.” He points at the piece of completely ordinary paper.

“Oh yeah, I have one.” The man starts digging through his pockets: “Please do return it to me.”

“Thank you.” My babysitting job answers politely.

Carefully he lets the small flame from the dark metal object lick the paper.

As his face turns sour he finally turns off the lighter.

The paper really was just a piece of random paper.

Before returning it, he takes a quick glance at the small object in his hand. For a moment it looks like something clicked inside his mind.

With a smile on his face he returns the lighter to its owner.

“Thank you for letting me borrow this. Unfortunately it seems like this isn’t part of the scavenger hunt.” He hangs his head down showing rather theatrically his frustration.

“I see, well kid, I hope you find it.” The man takes the lighter and calmly walks away.

As the man has gone around the corner, Jayden suddenly jumps and pulls my sleeve: “That’s him!” He stops himself just in time from yelling: “The snake mentioned in the letter, it’s on the lighter! His means of destroying this place is by fire.”

Too tired to struggle, I press against my hidden earpiece and call for backup, giving everyone the best description I can of the suspect.

As we’re finally called back, the chief tells us that our suspects fingerprints matched that of the letter that was sent.

But a better investigation and court will be held later to find out what really happened.

I glance at my colleague.

I guess he might have his charms, solving a case might not entirely be beyond him…

Though dumb luck did most of the job.

But I still can’t get over his horrible sense of fashion!

Angelic monster

A short horro story I wrote:)

TW: Blood & psychological horror

I've been such a coward.

Never before have I stooped this low.

Never before have I done something like this out of fear.

Yes, it's all because of a fear that can thoroughly be explained and the reason is an understandable one.

But somehow the feeling I got from doing it hasn't left me.

It's like it's slowly rubbing my back, poisoning my skin.

It has burned itself deep into my soul and the chills I got from that day still haven't disappeared in the slightest.

I dislike this feeling.

I hate this memory.

It feels like I will have to watch my back until my last breath.

That day I went with my students to do research on a strange cave that had been recently found, I'm a teacher you see.

We were driven there by the group that secretly had been holding my family hostage, I knew, but pretended not to and I was lucky that none of my students noticed.

The group wanted me to investigate this cave in order for more power.

It was said that monsters had been created from this cave.

The research I had done before had proven that somehow it's real.

That's when they found out.

My God, why did I have to find it?!

Why did I have to be the one to do this?

If I could go back in time...

Well it doesn't matter anymore now, everyone is dead.

All my students have been killed, every single one of them.

I still remember all their faces, I still remember their ideas, their wishes and the possible futures they could have had.

Well... I don't really want to go on about them anymore.

We found and caught the monster that was needed for the group's project. They needed a weapon and that's the one they wanted.

A monster that could destroy cities with ease.

Somehow the one we found looks much different from what had been foretold in the stories I had studied, no hairy paws or yellow eyes, but it was a monster nonetheless.

A monster of great skill and strength beyond that of a simple human being.

Now years later, the monster sits before me.

It has an almost angelic appearance, with white wings on its back like a lower class angel from the bible.

Its skin is dark grey, its form almost human, and covered with small white feathers, except for on its neck, face and claws. The head somehow has longer feathers growing out of it, like the hair on a human's head.

Its claws are like a combination of that from a bird and the hands of a person.

Having five 'fingers' on each hand that are more longer and slender than that of a human being and of course ending in sharp nails.

The other researchers and I have been unable to find out the gender of the creature, which is another strange thing. But then again, it's just a monster, nothing more, nothing less. It has already killed so many.

It snuffed out their lives like it was nothing and it will surely do so again.

Somehow, by continued teaching it has mastered the human language.

And now it sits before me, eerily calm.

There is a thick glass wall between us, since this monster is being used by the group as a weapon and is of course still a danger to everyone.

"Professor, what is it that you wanted to talk about?" the monster asks politely.

I can feel myself growing irritated by its tone.

Since when did it believe to address me by 'Professor'? That was reserved for my students, not this monstrosity.

Still I decide to let it slide for now, I don't want to anger it.

"Well..." I hesitate, while mustering up the courage: "It's about that day."

"I see." The monster looks down, does it remember? Does it feel guilt for what it has done?

"The day you found me, I assume." It guesses.

I nod: "That day I will never forget how you slaughtered my students." I almost growl at it whilst glaring.

"I didn't." It answers as if trying to hide its guilt.

I hate it.

I hate this monster.

"I want to know what went down there." I demand it: "How did you get there and why were you there?"

The monster hesitates for a moment but then begins to answer: "Well, I don't remember too much about that place. I believe that there are things I don't know about it at all."

"Be more clear."

"Yes, professor, I'm sorry."

"Quit calling me that." I guess I'm saying it now anyways.

It stops for a moment, almost looking shocked from my sudden burst of anger. Well it probably doesn't feel that anyway, I must have imagined it.

Then it nods as I sign to it that it should continue.

"From what I heard about the cave, it could be used as a way to conjure up monsters or demons."

"Go on."

"I don't think you would want to hear it."

"Continue." I say glaring at the monster.

It sighs in discomfort and then does as told: "I believe that there is something inside that cave that has the ability to turn something or someone who enters into a so-called monster."

"Yes, we noticed with the rat."

"Pro- erm, I mean sir, why did those students got sent inside? If you knew-."

I don't let it finish: "It was an emergency."

I was powerless that day, I couldn't do anything. It's not my fault.

"So, then do you remember entering the cave?"

To my displeasure the monster shakes its head: "No I don't. There are no memories from before I awoke."

"Awoke?"

"The moment I heard their screams."

"Well you are the monster of that place after all."

"Sir, I actually don't believe that to be the case."

Annoyed, I look at it: "And what the hell does that mean?"

"Like some of the other scientists say, I don't believe to have come from there, nor am I the creature you have been looking for. I'm just too different."

"They are just toying with you, giving you false hope, you're a monster after all."

Is it just me or did it seem slightly annoyed when I called it what I did?

No that can't be.

For a moment it remains silent.

"But then, isn't the monster in this situation yourself?" The monster then asks me as if it was something completely normal.

"What?! No! You're the monster, you are the reason they died." I panic, wondering what it is trying to do to me..

"I didn't kill them. I tried to save them all."

"Bullshit! You killed them, you were covered in blood when we found you!" I yell as I feel my face growing red. Why would it say such terrible things?

Somehow the monster remains completely calm.

"I didn't kill them." It repeats: "I tried to save them, but the one who went rampant was already killing the others even before I awoke."

"SHUT UP!"

But the monster continues: "I saved one person though, the girl, one of your students, she left the cave alive."

Rage has filled my mind and I'm unable to think clearly.

"I didn't do anything wrong!!!" I yell, slamming my fist against the glass.

But then calmly the angelic monster throws the undeniable truth in my face:

"Wasn't it you who pulled the trigger?"

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.

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...

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 circus

I short horror story I wrote:)

Word count: 1841

TW:

Once every year there is a circus in the town I live in, for the rest of the year nothing special really happens. But that is not the only reason why so many are anxious about its arrival.

I don't know everything about it, but even so it is a bit of a strange circus. It is a mandatory one and there is another strange rule: Those that have not seen it are not allowed to watch.

So basically a lot of people sit together with their eyes closed, listing to sounds that will make you want to open your eyes. This makes it very challenging for most, especially when you are not allowed to cover your eyes in any way either.

Luckily, I am one of those that have not found it difficult, in all the years I have lived here I have not once broken any of its strange rules.

"Lynn, I am so terribly worried about him." Says Jenny as she tries to hide her trembling hands.

"Jenny, really, don't worry. His dad will be with him, right? And Sammy is a pretty smart kid."

She shakes her head: "Even so, he is still just four years old and not all kids are like you when you were younger... and how you still are." Was it just me or did I sense a small hint of disappointment in me? Maybe annoyance?

For most people it is difficult to go without looking and Jenny was rather young when she saw it for the first time.

It happened during the last year of middle school. Jenny and a group of her friends had freely decided to keep their eyes open during the show. She used to be quite the daredevil, throughout the village she was also known as 'Jenny the brave'. Now it is just a silly nickname, since she lost all that bravery that day.

Before that day, we weren't friends yet, we were just classmates.

On that day she went with five others, the bravest of middle school, but eventually also the most stupid. For as far as I know has no one ever tried that before.

I still remember the day after, like it was yesterday, all of them were absent. The teacher told us what happened and that they had gotten sick with nightmares, that's how bad it was.

"You probably have to be the oldest one here that still hasn't seen it!" Jenny says taking me back to the here and now.

I laugh: "Nah, no way. I bet there are still some of the elderly that haven't seen it."

"27, you're getting pretty close."

"Jen, we are the same age!" I laugh loudly.

Then Jenny lets out a shaking sigh.

"Jenny, really it will all be alright. Let's go do something fun together soon, oh maybe we could go apple picking again. It is almost time for those, Right?

"Okay, okay, you're right, but apple picking season will start next month. But I would love to have a game night again at your place. You have collected a lot and John has been wanting to play those again for a while."

"Alright, game night it is!"

Proud of myself for being able to help my friend. I say my goodbyes and leave her café.

In the distance I can already hear the circus music, as I squint my eyes, I can see the people that have worked there the previous years.

They are all very old and very thin, I wonder if they ever get something to eat.

Unlike the crowds for a normal circus, most people here are anxious. Parents telling their kids to behave and some of them even scaring them, all just to make sure that they won't look.

"Sam! Sammy!" I suddenly hear someone call out from the crowd.

I recognize him immediately, it is Jenny's husband and Sammy's father, John."

"Hey John, is everything alright?"

He shakes his head wildly: "No, no, not in the least! I lost Sam, if you hadn't already noticed?!" He answers panicked and angry that I even dared to ask such a stupid question.

"I will help you look." I offer.

John is a bit of an ass, but I do really care about Sammy's safety. I don't want the poor little kid to be traumatized or get sick of nightmares.

"Caitlynn, you have to tell me when you find him, immediately!" He demands.

I nod and walk the other way, wondering about how Jenny and John ever got married.

The circus tent is already very old, ancient even, as some have said. But still as sturdy as ever. Just beneath one of the peaks there is this creepy grey face, it always moves. Looking at people that enter or even just pass by. I have no idea what it is made of, but most likely some type of leather. Some old mechanism must be the thing that makes its eyes move, it looks rather creepy. Especially if it is the first time seeing it, by now I've gotten used to it.

At the circus you can buy food, but I've never seen anyone there. This entire event feels more like a funeral than something that is supposed to be fun.

Another strange thing about this entire event, is that it always seems to have just enough places to sit as the amount of people that live in this village. Which means that if there is an empty place, someone isn't here.

I don't know anyone who hasn't come each and every year though.

I decide that the best way to find Sammy is to maybe ask some of the employees of the circus and maybe for them to let everyone know about his disappearance.

As one of the employees walks past me, I quickly tap her on her shoulder to get her attention.

The older lady turns to me looking at me with her dark eyes and a face that is so thin, it almost looks like a skull.

I tell her what is going on and her face seems to show something like fear.

"Oh no, we need to do something before it begins!"

"Isn't there a way to delay the show for a bit?" I ask carefully, I know that we still have some time, but it would be a good second option if we can't find him before it runs out.

"No, no, I'm so sorry. It has to start at 12 o'clock straight, bad things will happen if we don't." She seems to be more panicked than me, so I put a hand on her shoulder to calm her down. "It will probably be fine, Sammy is a smart kid. So maybe if you could tell others to help the search, we can cover more ground quickly."

"Yes, Yes, I will ask all of my colleagues if they have seen him, what does he look like?"

"He is 4, has blond hair and wears his favorite dino shirt today. It's blue with green."

She nods and runs off faster than I expected of someone as old and thin as her. I couldn't even thank her.

I can see the lady talk to each of her colleagues with quick hand gestures, then one of them runs inside to come out with a megaphone.

As I want to continue John walks up to me: "Ah hey John, did you already find-"

"WHY THE HELL DID YOU ASKED THOSE FREAKS FOR HELP?!" He shouts at me: "You SAID that YOU were going to help and NOT to make Everyone think that I am a BAD FATHER! ASK BEFORE YOU PULL STUPID SHIT LIKE THIS!!!"

What a jerk...

Calmly I answer him: "Well, we will find him a lot quicker now.", But this only seems to anger him more.

"HOW the HELL can you be this CALM?! YOU REALLY DON'T CARE!"

I look at his red angry face, I am not afraid of his tantrums.

"We will find him and nothing bad is going to happen, bad things have never happened before anyway."

His face goes quickly from red to pale: "You really believe that... There is something seriously wrong with you..."

Then out of the corner of my eye, I see a little blond kid enter the tent.

"Well John, shout all you want, but I will continue to look." I run to the tent were I thought that I possibly saw Sammy.

As I enter the tent, I am greeted by a seemingly endless hallway.

"Sammy?" I call out.

No answer.

I take my phone out of my pocket and turn on the flashlight.

Now the hallway is filled with the bright white light.

I can see doors on my left and right, all of them look very old.

The bit of paint still remaining on the doors is peeling off.

The smell of damp and dust almost makes it unbreathable.

Quietly I walk, listening for any sound.

Then somewhere in the middle of the hallway I can hear whispering from one of the rooms.

I open the door and shine my flashlight inside.

Finally!

I see Sammy standing, next to what seems like a skeleton with too many arms and heads.

"Hey, Sammy! I was looking all over for you."

No answer.

"Sammy, c'mon, we gotta go."

Again silence, he hasn't even turned his face to me.

I sigh and step into the room, as I walk towards Sammy, I suddenly hear something moving.

Quickly I turn around to see what it is, has the skeleton moved?

Nah, that's impossible.

"Sam, your dad is worried about you."

But again Sammy seems to be ignoring me.

I place my hand on his shoulder: "SAM! Are you listening?"

And then he finally moves, shocked he looks at my face. So he hadn't noticed me before?

"Sam, we have to leave!"

The little kid before me starts tearing up quietly and wraps his tiny hands around my knees.

"Were you scared, Sammy?"

He nods while I gently pick him up.

"Let's go to your dad. Oh and promise me to keep your eyes shut. I will tell you when you can open them again, okay?"

"Yes, auntie." He says with fear and tears in his soft voice.

As I quickly leave to go to the place we have to be, I can hear whispering and something moving around following us.

"And then we found him again, there is really nothing to worry about."

"Why don't you understand?!" Jenny suddenly screams after me when I finished my story, her eyes red from tears and anger.

Tired of people shouting at me, I answer rather insensitively: "Why are you all so worried, nothing bad has ever happened around here! That circus is just a silly little thing to scare kids! As long as we just follow the rules, we are safe."

"Silly little thing?! You don't understand because you haven't seen it! You are just blind!"

I still don't understand the problem.

"Don't you remember the last year of middle school, when a whole family went missing!"

"I have never heard of anyone going missing."

"The group I was with existed out of a group of 6."

"6? Oliver, Amy, John, Mary and you. Who am I missing?

"Jerry, remember..."

Her voice sounds hesitant.

"I'm sorry, who?"

Shocked about my answer, Jenny stares at me with fear filled eyes.

"Y-you two have always been best friends... how?"

The confession

A short horror story I wrote.

TW: 920

Word count: blood, gore, murder, religion

It's quiet today, yes it is most of the time in a church, but not this kind of silence... I might even be able to call it eerie.

It's so quiet it feels like there is someone here with me, just one that is able to hold their breath for a very long time or never had a breath to begin with.

From the corner of my eye I notice a dark red curtain close.

Ah, it must be someone whom is here to confess.

I carefully close the book I was reading and whilst holding it close I walk over to the one who seeks the guidance and forgiveness of God.

I enter the small room on the opposite side and close the curtain behind me.

As I sense the person in the other room make a cross, he speaks in a shaking voice: "In the n-name of the F-father, the Son a-and the Holy Spirit..."

I recognize the man's voice, it's Benjamin, the kind farmer from the edge of town.

He comes here often and is very devoted to God.

Just what could it be that scared the poor lad this much?

Ben continues his prayer: "May last confession has been..." He takes a break, seemingly deep in thought.

"I'm sorry, I... I don't know. I have been here every Sunday though, I truly didn't have anything to confess at that time."

"That is alright, I know. Please tell me what happened Ben."

"So..." He swallows loudly "It all started a couple of days ago."

"Recently my crops have been dying, much, much faster than normal. All of them are now nothing more but dust. At first I thought it was divine punishment for something, but after asking even my youngest it seemed not to be the case. There was something killing them. It didn't take long for it to go over onto my life stock, all dead. My sheep, my cows, even the little donkey.

All had been more than healthy before then.

No blood, just dead.

Of course I went to ask around and seemingly I wasn't the only one with this horrible occurrence. My neighbors Peter and Hans had the same problem.

Something has been eating away at the land. It was something evil, father.

The others and me, decided to investigate and found out that something strange happens at night.

There was something wandering our fields when even the moon and stars hid behind clouds out of fear.

We all saw them.

It looked human, a human with long dark hair.

Each time it even just passed something alive it would quickly perish.

Last night, we decided to make our move.

Armed, we followed it.

It led us into the dark forest, everything decaying in its path.

When it finally halted, Peter attacked first.

But he was touched by it by accident and turned to ash.

It was a terrible sight father! I won't ever be able to forget.

So Hans, enraged by the sudden death of our friend, screamed at it, grabbing it by its hair and yanking it back.

He held a knife to its throat ready to slice it open, and yet... he too lost his life right there.

The monster turned to me and asked: "Are you going to kill me too, mister?"

I could finally see its eyes, its horrid eyes.

I think they might have glowed, but I'm not too sure.

When the moon finally showed itself, it had turned just as blood red as the monster's eyes.

It had to have been the devil's work.

It has to!"

"What did you do?" I ask, trying to get him to continue his story, he came here to confess after all.

A strange giggle escaped the man's lips, one I have only heard once before from a madman.

"Ben! What did you do?!"

He remains silent for a bit.

Is he even still there?

"Father... I killed a child. I killed the devil's child" Ben answers with insanity clearly audible in his voice.

"Ben... you killed a child?"

Another strange giggle: "Father... I did it to save everyone. I stabbed it and stabbed it and stabbed it and stabbed it... In the end the monster even smiled at me as I cut out its facial features, to make it look more like the monster it was."

A chill runs down my spine, what in the Lord's name is going on?

Probably sensing my silence, Ben starts to weep: "My Lord... Father... I killed a child... I'm going to hell... aren't I?"

Unsure what to answer, I open my bible looking for a way to guide the man.

Suddenly I start to hear scratching on the other side, softly at first, but before I know it, it gets louder and louder.

'Is he nervous?' Is my first thought, but quickly the scratching doesn't sound human anymore.

I can't help it: "What's wrong?" I ask desperately, trying to hide my own panic.

"Father, please help me. God, please forgive me!" The man starts begging in great distress.

If this goes on, he might hurt himself, I have to get him out!

"Ben! Please, let's take a breath of fresh air! Please calm down, I'm sure He will forgive you!"

I jump out of the confessional, rush to his side and open his curtains.

But instead of being greeted by the panicked man's face, I am to an empty seat.

Empty.

No one.

Have I been talking to myself all this time?

No... The scratches are there.

The scratches in the woodwork are deep and look more to be made by some kind of animal, than a human being.

It almost looks like there is dust inside them.

With an audible gasp I take a step back, gazing into the empty room.

Then I notice something else amiss.

The light entering the church...

It has turned blood red.

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 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]