under the bed

under the bed

A Story by Kathleen Devai
"

short story about where reality meets dreams

"
The wind was playing a game with the trees outside , causing them to run their branches down the panes of glass . 
Windows rattled in their rotting frames. 
The only other sound was the high pitched song, that accompanied the night . 
Wrapped up as if in a catacomb of quilt , she lay . 
Her breath dancing in the coldness of the room , how she hated the dark . 
The constant scratching at the window seemed to call "obey me , open the window , let me in " 
Her breathe was shallow , further she crawled under the quilt that had become her saviour . 
Heat seemed to escape from every pore , yet her skin was cold , a sudden pull on her quilt made her catch hold , hardly daring to let one breath escape . 
Listening in the darkness , a weight descended , she felt it , first at her feet , then before long it seemed to be crawling up the length of her huddled body . 
Pressure had her sink into the mattress , there was no escape . 
The song seemed to rush into her veins , heart pounding , her mouth opened , but only a muffled sound escaped her . 
The quilt was suddenly ripped from her , still trying to retreat into the lifting quilt she fell , her body lay on the floor .
Her eyes searched the darkness , soon she came in contact with another pair of eyes .
She was half way under the bed , the springs digging into her scalp and her hair tangled amongst the metal mass . 
The eyes were looking into hers , searching her soul , looking for a way in , she started to try and pull her self back , never once did the eyes loose their contact with hers ....
Her finger nails dug deep into the floor, splinters of wood devouring her bloodied hands.
The metal mass of springs took more of her hair, ripped out at the roots, it hung like a finely spun cobweb, moving with each intake of breath.
From the darkness , two hands grasped her hands, concentration lapsed, a sharp intake of air was released in a muffled scream, quickly she looked up and the eyes had been replaced by a face.
It was coming nearer, its hold tightened , pulling her into its lair under the metal bed.
In the darkness she could see its eyes alight with reflection of fire, a hundred souls danced in its eyes. Tormented and with so much sadness those hundred souls buried themselves in to her mind.
Scars ran down its face, open wounds weeped out small rivers of thick black tar. A mouth that had remained closed, now turned up at the corners, revealing rotting teeth, maggots crawled between each gap, and a stench over whelmed her, she turned her head and buried her face in to her arm, trying somehow to mask the approaching cloud of eternal incarceration.
Her eyes blurred from the tears that escaped, she fought its vice like grip, she couldn't die like this, she had made so many plans for life, she had so many dreams
Dreams`! this was a dream! any moment she would wake up, and be laid in her bed, under her soft quilt.
Thats when it struck, it grabbed her hair, and dragged her further under the bed, her scalp lifted, revealing flesh that bled, with its other hand, it spread its fingers round the base of her neck.
Splinters dug in her face, they entered her open eyes, blood mixed with her salty tears, trickling into her silent scream.
The smell of heavily polished wooden floor boards penetrated the glands of her nose, making the slow suffocation more rapid.
Sharp nails from the now unseen hands dug in further, like a lamb to slaughter , she was brought in further under the bed.
Held face down, there was no further retreat from her, she wasn't sure if it was the pain or the sound she heard first from the crunch to her head, warm wet fluid ran down her face, forming a red pool of blood under her face, breathing in dark bubbles, this was death.
She felt a force in her neck, like a string of constant rope, her spine was pulled from within her, agonised cries left her body, her throat drowning in her own blood, gargling in one last attempt to be heard.
Laying there ,unable to move, she heard the sound of a mighty feast around her, she was being devoured alive, her eyes dimmed, and a last tear escaped.
She had joined the tortured souls in the devils eyes.

© 2017 Kathleen Devai


Author's Note

Kathleen Devai
ignore grammar problems, I'm working on it, i have no academic qualifications,only imagination

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This was cool, you have a good imagination

Posted 6 Years Ago



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Added on September 18, 2017
Last Updated on September 18, 2017
Tags: horror, gothic, fiction

Author

Kathleen Devai
Kathleen Devai

birmingham, west midlands, United Kingdom



About
A creative photographer, with a huge imagination,started to write a couple of years ago,but then decided not to, busy life and all that, I've wrote poetry and had it published, only local newspapers. .. more..

Writing
Wilf Wilf

A Chapter by Kathleen Devai