a midnight place

A man wrestles with demons in his mind as his illness overcomes his body.

      It was late in October, in a year I can't quite recall. I was young and fierce, fearful of nothing, and desiring to swallow the world by my lone influence. Returning to my three-story home after a meeting, one in which I effectively asserted my authority, I climbed into bed with an eagerness to assault the next day alone.

      At nearly eleven, or so I suppose when trying to remember, I awoke with a severe fever, pressing on my eyes and causing my mind to weave within a dreamly state. My silent home was suddenly filled with rustling, restless noises meandering through the hall, nearing my door. I tried to move, to grasp the blankets that covered me, but the fever mocked me and I lay in dread of what was approaching.

      For the next hour I heard grisly voices, but no distinct human words, filling the hallway. I could feel my warm perspiration dripping down my cheeks, but I could only open my eyes for a moment at a time. And what horror! When my eyes were opened, in the raven isolation of my room I could see shifting shadows, but even my fingers were frozen!

      Once when I was alert for nearly a minute, I opened my parched lips to call out, but my throat wrestled my words back down. In this moment, I knew all was lost. Even my bed began to tremble, as if it feared the odious presence that commanded my room. I would drift into nightmares, as one is caught in an engulfing current, and would awake to find the illusions alive around me. And what could I do? My mind stirred, but my body was motionless. I shivered and shuddered, yet even this was beyond my control.

      My weak eyes saw briefly caught the approach of midnight, and the voices swelled, advancing toward me and drowning out my thoughts; my fearful, grieving thoughts. Now my mind was pounding. I could hardly open my eyes, and when I did they were there! These masked horrors, leaping and swaying around my room. What weakness! I didn't even have the strength to weep.

      The pounding increased, as my body battled the disease within. How rarely I glanced in my room, for I feared the shaded specters that danced there. Were they unaware of my frail presence and my foolish frame? What was I reduced to that they would invade my sacred solitude and haunt my sickening seclusion? Would they remain at dawn? Would I?

      My body began to tremble uncontrollably as I felt emaciated hands pressing on my chest and throat, and I could no longer open my weary eyes.  Wailing screams, mixed with sorrow and taunting laughter filled my head. I sensed all the specters gathering near my bed. Oh, the terror that held me, and the darkness that swallowed me! The screams grew louder. Were they mine? I could no longer recognize what was real.

      For what seemed at eternal moment, I felt as if these visions were lifting my body and scraping my eyes. My room ignited in flames that crept around me, and though I could not see them, the heat from their inferno strangled my parched throat. I was helpless, and all I could do, as I sensed them converging on me, was breath a simple, unutterable prayer. In this profound moment, the raging torrent subsided with the swelling sounds and I slipped into a deep rest. At dawn my fever was all but broken.

      It was late in October, in a year I can't quite recall. And though I always found pride in my opinions, in that inescapable moment I realized a dependence on something other than myself. Let the specters and spirits come, for I am no longer alone...

               

 

 

 

Reviews

[Kathy Van Kurin]

'a midnight place'
An owl on the moon,
The title seemed a romantic one but the direction it took was unexpected. This turned a corner to personal narrative, even lesson that a person is precious to our creator God. We have no idea of the power of the resurected Christ when we call on His name. I understand this story very well. I truly appreciated the imagery and message. The entities of Hell are dissolved and neutralized as we give our hearts to the one who died that we could have life and that more abundantly.
Great write!
Bless you.
Kathy

[Larry Dyson]

I remember that when I worked in the hospitals that the hour of 3 o'clock seemed to bring the most restless sleep and /or the dieing of most souls... they would see and hear the most awful things and say the most awful things to their demons...about 4 o'clock it would all cease and the ones alive would seem to be silent and have lived thru it all...you wrote and experienced it very well...in the telling...glad you survived the night!

[Pebbles]

ha ha i cant believe that 'no one ' actually picked this apart bless him .... (the comment below )
If there was anything wrong with it i really didnt notice was too busy perching on the edge of my seat waiting to be got by the darkness ... im guessing though i may be wrong that you were or the character was dependent on one drug or another , i have heard of people who see monsters appearing ffom where ever they may come ... im one of the lucky ones who never went os far ... may be wrong there but i guess it doesnt really matter as we are allowed to see it any way we please and i love when different people see the same peice in so many different ways ...... :) i hope im not diggin up old monsters here and if i am just tell them to behave and get back where they belong

[[untitled]]

This was very well written! I loved the poetic word choices, the metaphoric and symbolic uses of the dancing creatures and the lesson to be learned. I agree that it was very Poe reminiscent. I'm also a huge fan of tying the ending back to the beginning so I loved the way you chose to repeat the first line (and what a first line!). Loved every second of it!

[justjenn_2u]

To sink so deep, having delusions, but to pull out, as if from demons.

A very intriguing story that could have a follow up.

Nice word choice, you keep the reader wanting to know more.

[lilain]

Wow! This is intense. I think a lot of people have had similar experiences. It may be a creepy sound or an illness, but we've all prayed to something (even if we don't believe).

It is a captivating story. I like it. Perhaps you could elaborate more on the prayer you used. It is such a turning point in the story, I almost want to know what prayer you made, etc.

Good read!

Thanks,
lilain

[lori c]

oh what a read. gripped me from the beginning and never let me go. poe-esque to me, in the manner of tell tale heart. love poe. i am anxious now to read more of your writing.

[Shadow]

I am impressed with this,you captured the presence if not the aura of a child caught in a nightmare