Shriek HighA Story by Que This is a short story...I guess.
Part One
A shrill scream pierced the night making bare feet thud down the hall quickly despite the person's heavy lids. A lithe figure lie tossing beneath sweat soaked blankets only to panic more when the blankets were torn away and the dreamer was held down firmly.
"Chris, wake up. You need to wake up. It's only another nightmare!" Chris' mother had grown old in her life far too soon due to the worry she must endure. "Chris darling, wake up please." Her son was nearly a full-grown man; she couldn't hold him much longer.
With eyes still closed but ceased in his tossing, "I'm awake now, Mum."
The mother collapsed in the chair near his bed, "The same one?"
"Yeah, the same one." For the past year he had been having a reoccurring nightmare that seemed real. It was set in a hospital like building with no personnel or equipment. The walls gleamed and yellow lights flashed, giving it an old film look.
Chris wandered through the empty hallways for hours until he came across a sound. Before he could stop himself he had opened the door to find students in their desks, watching static on TV.
One pair of eyes were fixed on Chris, they weren't normal, rather a deep red. He would try to look away in fear, but he was held paralyzed. So he would wait, fearing the worst.
The girl would open her mouth and black tendrils would slither toward Chris. She would make a shriek that never lost volume. The tendrils wrapped around Chris, enveloping him in nothingness. He wanted to struggle, but could do nothing.
The last thing Chris saw before he was woken were the tendrils bringing him toward her.
His mother tried to blame the nightmare on their move to a new settlement. Two years ago Chris and his mother were chosen to inhabit a discovered island in the middle of the Pacific Ocean. They waited a year and while the year went on buildings were being put up all across the island; homes were built when the family moved in.
A school was still being discussed when he had moved in half a year ago. So every evening before he left the next day's classroom would be announced.
Chris' mother complained, "How can they expect a good move if there's no good schooling?"
"It works well enough, we get exercise this way." Chris was always a level headed kid.
Class was the same as it was back in the states; an annoying teacher who droned on for about 45 minutes straight then a new teacher would come in and repeat the process.
Before he left he caught the next "school" location. It was the building about half a mile from his home, meant to be a hospital but something important had been left out and it wasn't caught until the building was complete.
The small committee was still discussing whether or not to use it as a permanent schoolhouse while Chris got to the building for class.
He left at a decent time, but was the first one any ways. Before he went inside he stared at the daunting size. Each window seemed to hold a face staring down at him, but out of sight.
He shrugged off the scared feeling and entered its gaping maw of a door only to be stunned. The hall in which he entered was so familiar, as if he had walked into his nightmare. Walking the halls in a daze, hearing a sound coming from the last door in the hall. The whole way there déjà vu was showing its ugly face.
Before he was at the door he stood still and tried to regain his composure. Drenched in sweat he came to the windowless door. Instead of waiting for fear to win, Chris opened the door to his nightmare.
A classroom filled with children staring at the static TV and a girl with red eyes in her spot opening her mouth to shriek and ensnare the paralyzed Chris.
"'Ey, you're blocking the door, man. Step aside!" Chris jumped and the image was gone. When he moved aside a row of students filed in with a teacher at the rear.
"Alright everyone, you know the drill. New seating arrangement to go along with the way he desk are arranged." Mr. Gatz taped a sheet of paper on he front wall and indicated for the students to begin. Chris waited patiently for an opening to appear before he moved forward.
He turned around and began counting rows, then seats. His new spot was where the red-eyed girl had been, in the far corner.
"Just a coincidence."
"What's that, man?" The boy who had made him move was waiting to see where he sat.
"Nothing, just talking to myself."
"What ever floats your boat, man. By the way, the names Tyler."
"A pleasure, I'm Chris."
"Hey! Well looks like I sit next to you." They both wormed their way to their seats.
Chris wasn't sitting long before a girl was beside him, "You're in my spot."
"No, this is where the sheet said I was sitting."
"Let's see about that." One more Chris wormed his way through the seats and students. The girl then pointed to her name:
Bethany William: Row 5, Seat 6
Then to his:
Christopher Traynor: Row 3, Seat 5
"This can't be right," Chris, said nearly shouted, "Tyler you even said we're sitting next to each other."
Calling from the back of the room, "I never said that."
"See, I told you. That's my spot." Bethany went to what was Chris' seat and tossed him his bag.
"Ok, take your seats. Mr. Traynor, please go to your seat."
Part Two
The following month brought no further frights to Chris, but it did bring confusion galore.
Bethany had been showing up almost everywhere Chris went, once he saw her from his room looking up to his window. Around the other students she seemed normal, despite the fact she sometimes disappeared for days on end.
Chris was the only one who noticed, everyone else was oblivious. He had given up on Tyler after figuring out that he was pretending to believe what Chris tried to explain.
His dreams come only once a week, but each time it is more detailed.
He had this dragging that Bethany was the girl from his nightmare. They looked alike, except for the eyes; Bethany’s were green.
One story was going around the settlement; most horror stories do. Apparently someone had found a diary in the woods while they were looking from their dog. The diary had been listed lost-and-found for a week, which is the rule but no one claimed it. The man who had found it claimed it in order to read it without gaining a guilty conscience.
It started out normal enough, just a young girl moving to a new settlement away from everything she knew and loved. She had written for about two years before things got unnatural.
It started with the late coming of a girl into the class; she was pretty normal but would often disappear. One night the girl whose diary was being read was watching the neighbor boy in his front lawn when he suddenly dropped his ball and headed in the direction of the school. The girl, worried about him, stomped on her shoes and slipped her diary and a pen into her pocket. The road must have been too long because he stumbled his way through the woods in an impromptu short cut.
While she did make plenty of noise, he never turned around. She kept going and only faltered when he entered their school. She found it scary during the day, and more so when it was a new moon.
He walked through the halls creating an echo with each oddly placed step. He kept going for a while then stopped suddenly in front of a room. The sight she saw beyond him was enough to make her cry out in alarm and run frantically toward the exit.
As she ran toward her home black tendrils were behind her engulfing everything they encompassed in nothingness. She knew it wasn’t safe to stop at her home and wept for the loss of her family. She ran for hours on end, clearly energized by panic and adrenaline.
The sun, her ever-beloved friend, shown through the trees touching the tendrils. They would sizzle then disappear.
Thinking the trouble over for the day the girl collapsed in a sobbing and worn out heap on the ground.
She woke after a few hours frantically searching for the black tendrils. Finding none she stumbled back to town.
What she found brought painful sobs. What she saw was nothing. The home she had help build with her family had vanished. Not a clue was left behind to tell of her family's deaths.
Her thoughts were on her family; was it quick and painless or do they suffer still? She pleaded with herself to not ponder such things, but it could not be helped.
With tears still streaming she pulled out her diary and began her final tale. The tale of Shriek was the last thing ever written by this young girl who lived longest.
The first guess is tendrils got her later, suicide a close second.
Part Three
“I bet you wrote the diary just so people would believe your story.” Tyler said as they walked home from school.
“You’ve known me long enough to know I don’t lie.”
“This settlement could change a god man to a devil man.”
“Just wait, you’ll end up being the one who gets drawn there.” Chris shouted back as he ran toward his front door.
“If it does happen, everyone is betting it’ll be you!” No one knew that that's exactly what Chris was thinking. Since his mother knew of his nightmares she had been increasingly paranoid and increasingly older.
“Christopher, is that you? Could you come here for a minute, I need help with this box.”
“Coming Mum!” He ran up the stairs to his mother’s room and stopped in mid-stride, “Why is everything boxed up?”
“We’re moving back to the states tomorrow.”
“No! I’ve finally gotten to liking it here and you move me again!” Instead of waiting for his mothers reply he stormed down the stairs and out of the house, ignoring her calls.
He was walking for a while before he noticed it had grown dark. Although he had no idea where he was he didn’t panic, the island was only so big. He continued to walk. When he heard the scuffling of feet some ways ahead he jogged towards it. Once again he was compelled to stop dead in his tracks when he saw Bethany enter the school.
Without thinking he ran full speed to and into the horror filled school and to the door of his nightmare.
He sprinted full into the room and pushed a zombified student from his chair and lifted the now vacant seat in a batting position. Careful not to meet the red-eyed gaze Chris swung with all his strength. Swishing through the black tendrils that began to exit her mouth the chair struck true but to no effect. Without thinking Chris looked down, before he was wrapped in her frozen embrace he had the chance to see a tickle of blood from her mouth.
Unlike his dreams he had mental stability, not much but enough to build up. The black tendrils wrapped around his ankles spurring him on. Soon he had enough control to lift the chair once more; an outside force must have been there with him for when he swung the chair the girl flew from her seat and hit the wall.
Paying no attention to the burning feel in his hands he tore away the tendrils that had tightened their grip on his ankles. Free from the grip Chris went to Bethany’s wriggling form. She was covered in the horrid tendrils so he ripped at the tendrils trying to free her. He would've ignored the tendrils wrapping themselves around him if one hadn’t blocked his view. Quickly getting back to freeing Bethany he soon got her hands free so she could help as well.
She was free when she froze suddenly, looking above Chris’ head. He shook her shoulders but her eyes never strayed. Fearing what he was to see, he turned around. His eyes met legs that were sickly grey. Before he could move away strong hands gripped his shoulders and stood him up to meet her gaze. He had not lost himself so the gaze had no effect. He looked away choosing to see the damage done.
Her ear was cut, hanging by little more then a hair. Her jaw was displaced giving her a lopsided grin and blood was seeping to the front of her shirt hinting at a back injury.
While Chris was concentrating on the damage he had done the girl was paying attention to only him. Bethany took her chance and crept silently around them and grabbed a chair. He noticed the movement and looked at Bethany as she rose the chair. The red-eyed girl noticed the look and was turning around when the chair smashed into her head again.
She lost hold of Chris; so he grabbed Bethany’s hand and took off.
“What are we going to do?” Bethany panted besides Chris.
“I have no idea,” Chris risked a glance behind them and saw the girl behind them, “but we need to figure out something.”
“Chris, you go on. I can stop her.”
Chris gathered his wits before turning and walking into the woods. Bethany heard two loud snaps before he came out holding two large branches “Are you with me?”
Without hesitation Bethany took the branch and swung it a bit, “Readier then I’ll ever be.” When they met on the path there was no stare down, no final words, just one moment for Chris and Bethany to decide as one, now or never.
They charged with branches ready. Once she was within striking distance they struck deftly. They continued to beat the helpless red-eyed menace until finally she gave a shriek that sounded normal, causing the tendrils to attack quickly. Chris and Bethany dropped their branches and concentrated on freeing themselves. Gradually the red-eyed girl’s shriek got lower and quieter making the tendrils slow. When hey halted the red-eyed girl exploded in a burst of light. It was so bright Chris and Bethany covered their eyes and waited.
The once mangled and red-eyed girl was fully healed with brown eyes, smiling in ecstatic joy. “Thank you,” she breathed, “Thank you.”
The duo dropped to the ground in amazement panting after their battle when she vanished.
“Do you think anyone will believe us?” Bethany whispered.
“I think we’ll be put into a loony bin,” it was silent again.
“Then let it be our secret.”
“Deal.”
© 2008 QueReviews
|
Stats
157 Views
1 Review  Author
|
![[send message]](https://www.writerscafe.org/images/mail.png){kind=small}
![[befriend]](https://www.writerscafe.org/images/friend.png){kind=small}
Share This
Email
Facebook
Twitter
Read Request
My Library
Flag Writing