Chapter Eight

Chapter Eight

A Chapter by Cre8nFrmWithn

Awakenings can me a mutha...


Chapter Eight


Luke 13:28

"In that place, there will be weeping and gnashing of teeth…”




I awoke with a start.  I was covered in darkness and cold.  I felt stuck.  I tried to move my legs and found they couldn’t stretch out.  I was on my side, inside of a…a box?  And it stank.


I tried to sit up and bumped my head.  Trapped!  I was definitely in a box.  I put my hand before me and felt a wall.  It was a wooden box with a wooden floor that felt warped.  Okay.  I felt behind me and felt nothing but there was a little light coming from behind me.


Awkwardly, I managed a shuffle turn from my side to my butt and back. My head was pushed forward, so my chin was pressed into my chest.   I could see much better.  The light was coming from an opening.


I flopped again, uncomfortably turning onto my right side and looked out of an arched opening.  The odd portal was low to the ground.  I could smell the grassy lawn.  No sounds were about me.


I gazed out and saw a patio door.  I was in someone’s backyard.  I leaned forward and gawkily slid my legs behind me.  I pushed forward freeing my head of the small archway.  All was quiet about me.  I crawled on my belly until I made my way partially out.  I rolled onto my back and saw that I was inside a doghouse.  Cracky! 


         I extracted myself from the shack and took in my surroundings.  The yard belonged to a family with children.  There were two tricycles; a sit n’ spin; a tire swing and a kiddie pool.


The house was a small, ranch-styled place that hadn’t been cleaned in years.  The siding was beginning to rust and the white metal was tanned.  The yard was over-grown and held brown patches where leaves had rotted away the green.


Above me, the sky was an ugly grey.  It looked like I’d be served a thunderstorm with additional side of lightening bolts.  I considered climbing back into the doghouse but to be stuck in there with rain pummeling the rooftop didn’t seem like good sleep or rest.


My body ached something fierce.  I really could have used a long, hot soak in a tub.  Was this my house to soak in?  I thought about trying to get in the house- the house.  Try to get in?  Why would I try to get in?  I looked around again, final check.


         There was a privacy fence. I couldn’t see if there were other folks about.  Just as well, since I woke up in a doghouse.  It would have looked rather suspicious. 


         Privacy.  I looked down at my clothing, expecting to be injured.  I was not.  I was perfectly fine.  Why?


         Why was I supposed to be hurt?  Quickly then slowly, I began to feel a deep sadness.  I observed my hands for a moment, expecting to see something- anything that would explain the way I was feeling.  I found nothing.


         I walked to the back fence and tried to peek through the slits of the boards.  I needed to figure out where I was…again?  I’ve done this before.


I couldn’t see well but someone was standing in the next yard.  The person seemed sad, alone in the yard.  I kinda understood how he or she felt.


         I leaned in a bit to see what the person was doing but there wasn’t enough room for view.  They just stood there.  Once or twice they made some sort of guttural sound; the sounds led me to believe it was positively a man.


         All about the neighborhood we shared, there was silence.  Not much stirred at all.  Even the birds were silent.  All I could hear was my breathing as I leaned in as quietly as possible to see what the man was doing.


         He stood but not still.  Like a reversed pendulum, he rocked slowly from one foot to the other.  He groaned again and it sounded pained.  The man must be upset.  Spousal upset?  Mischievous children?  Or worse, alcoholism.


         The man shuffled a tad bit and moved out of my line of sight.  I sucked in some air and stepped to my right to see if I could catch him again, maybe see what he was doing.  I probably moved three boards over before leaning in again.  I didn’t see him.


         I shifted two more boards and found his body.  He seemed to be about my height.  His body was thin and his clothing was terribly stained.  He was filthy to say the least. 


         His hair, his grimy blonde hair hung in thick wads. I looked down to see that he wore no shoes; his feet were covered in mud and something else.  His feet were almost black and blue; they were bruised.  Something was wrong with the guy.


         For a second, I thought he was homeless.  A trespasser who sought refuge in a neighbor’s yard but he wasn’t dressed like a vagrant.  The man wore a business shirt: light blue with thin, white stripes.  His pants were nice trousers- not expensive but it gave way to leave the idea of him being homeless.


         I used my back muscles to come away from the fence and exhaled slowly and quietly.  I didn’t realize it but I was holding my breath.  Something was wrong and I was scared.  I was also spying, voyeurism.


I couldn’t shake the feeling that I was in a bad situation.  I could hear my blood whooshing through my veins and my heart was aching against my ribcage.  My body was preparing for fight or flight mode, forcing a surge of adrenaline throughout my body.


I had to see if there was really any danger.  I wondered if I could climb the fence to help out.  I couldn’t just let him stand there upset or cry if something was wrong, could I?


         I leaned back and squealed in shock!  I was scared out of my wits!  Then mans face was pressed against the fence, gazing back at me!


         He was quiet and still, he didn’t even blink.  Quietly he gave me a penetrating, cold stare.  Unfortunately, that wasn’t what frightened me so.  The most fear provoking was his eye.  It was an egg noggy yellow.  The translucent coloring made the pupil glow with an even darker yellow.  It was like looking into the eye of a dead fish.  That’s when I noticed the smell.


         I stayed motionless, looking back at the dead eye and held my breath.  This man stank of...of death.


         I sucked in a frisson of trepidation as the man, roared at me?  He raised his head and I saw his brown teeth and his cyanic skin!  He was a bluish grey color and his breath smelled so bad that I almost vomited!  The man was a- he was a Nasty!


         With my thoughts beginning to dash over bridges I wasn’t ready to cross, the nasty looking man pounded the fence with open palms.  It creaked and struck my forehead, knocking me on my arse!


         I looked in shock as he repeated this act and moaned loudly, doing his best to get to me.  He wanted to get to me.  Was this a joke or something, I questioned.


         Before the fence could come down, I figured I needed to get into the house and away from my dead neighbor.  Maybe with me out of view, he’d calm down and go back to whatever he was doing.  Before I interrupted.


         I found my feet doing that Scooby-Doo thing- where my feet were moving before I actually felt like I was going anywhere.  I hit the patio’s glass doors and pulled on the handle.  Locked!


         I groaned and looked about for a key.  There really weren’t any hiding places, no pots or yard decor.  Not even a fake rock box, so I moved to the side of the house.  There was a screen door. 


         I grabbed the knob and pressed the thumb button.  It opened.  I looked through the screen to see the fence lean inward again and the dead neighbor continually beat on the boards.  I had to get in.


         I grabbed the knob and turned, almost peeing my pants when it opened up for me!  Hurriedly and soundlessly, I closed the door and locked it.  I then looked up and saw the chain and slid it home.  Safe!


         I stood perfectly still, listening to the house.  Before I moved, I wanted to make sure that no one else was moving.  I pricked my ears, concentrating so hard it hurt.  The only sounds that came to me were from the outside neighbor.


         I turned around to see that I stood in a two-car garage.  The door was protection but not great protection.  The door wasn’t thick and could be kicked in if someone truly wanted to.


         I looked about me and found a large rolling toolbox that stood around five feet tall.  I checked the wheels.  They had pedal locks.  I pushed it up against the door and locked the wheels. 


         To be sure it wouldn’t budge, I shoved a bit; the toolbox didn’t move.  Satisfied, I walked around the car, a compact vehicle, and stopped in front of the door that lead to the inner-house.  I placed my hand over the knob and again listened.  I pressed my ear to the door and eavesdropped with all that was in me.  Nothing.


         I turned the knob but it didn’t turn.  Shoot! I thought.  I puffed and walked back to the toolbox and sought a small, mini screwdriver.  Luckily it was one of those knobs with the tiny hole in the center.


         All I had to do was slide the tool into the hole and feel for the screw.  Once caught, I gently twisted the locking mechanism and the knob.  It opened with a soft click.


         I allowed the door to sit open for about five minutes before thinking I was safe.  If someone were there, they’d have lost patience and attacked me by now.


I opened the door and saw it lead into a laundry room.  It held a stacked washer and dryer.  Whirlpool.  Nice brand, nice company but they have their quirks.


Luckily for me, there wasn’t a door from the laundry.  The kitchen stood before me.  I tip toed into the kitchen and heeded the situation.  I still received no reception.  Boy was that neighbor upset!


I walked to the sink and looked out.  The fence stopped moving.  The neighbor gave up.  Finally!  I closed the blinds and the drape.  It shaded the room but I still had light to appreciate my settings.  It was a grand room.


I walked to the island and lightly touched the hanging pans, the copper sort.  Lovely, dangling, pretty pots and pans.  The entire room was decorated like an old-fashioned home, with bricked hearth-like range area and stove.  It was the kitchen of dreams.


I moved into the dining area and saw that there were knocked over chairs and lamps.  The place appeared ransacked.  Pictures were hanging crooked on walls, with cracked faces and frames.  Books were knocked from shelves and there were holes in the walls too. 


There was something else.  It made the scene sinister.  I walked further into the room, carefully watching where I stepped.  This could be a crime scene- a murderer could still be on the premises.  


Or the dirty neighbor could be the culprit.  He was filthy enough to have been covered in blood.  But those eyes…


I think he was blind- no way he murdered people in here and then got back over there in the yard.  Plus, there’s too much blood on the walls, in this room for him to be just dirty and not bloody.


I held my breath and listened again, straining as much as I could to catch a sound.  If there was someone in the place, they were still as stone.  Me included.


I carefully stepped from the room into the hallway that must have led to the bath and bedrooms.  There was more blood smeared along the walls.  It smelled kinda like a wet penny.  I wanted out.

So instead of taking an investigative look, I made my way back to the kitchen and began looking for keys.  The car was still in the garage; the keys had to be somewhere in the house.


I first looked to the wall outside of the garage.  People like to hang their keys on little hooks or put them in little bowls.  Tools to assist you with your forgetfulness.


Well, there were no hooks.  There was no bowl.  I didn’t find keys anywhere.  I was not going to leave the house without a way to get around, even a bike would do.  With scurried stealth, I searched the three rooms until I found them!  A set of keys with a car key that was super thick and oval shaped.  Who cares how ugly the key is, as long as they key worked.


I decided I’d look about the house before leaving after all.  The entire street seemed quiet and I didn’t understand why the only person I’d seen was a blind guy who looked like a zombie!


I walked into the livingroom, and stared out the picture window.  The place was a wasteland!  There were cars in the street, in yards and in houses!  There were more stains in the street.  Red colored handprints and smudges were on things like cars, doors and windows too.  It was like there was a war and this view was of the catastrophe.


The sight of more blood sent chills through my spirit.  Many people had been hurt yet there were no bodies.  The place was deserted.


Papers tossed in the wind, doors stood ajar and silence reigned.  It was the sort of eerie silence that let me know no one was around.  No one that was alive anyway.  I decided that if I went outside again, it would be because I was leaving.


I turned back to the house and decided I should take a walk down the hall to the bathroom and bedrooms.  If I was staying a while, I needed to know I was safe.  I have a little security in here.  Out there, I was in open territory.  Something told me, if I ventured out, I’d be a walking target.




         The house was clear of occupants.  No one hid in a corner and there were no sounds of anyone shuffling in a hideaway.  I was alone.


I decided to take a shower and eat.  It felt hypnotic, standing in the stream of water.  It started off super hot but the longer I stood in the jet, basking in the comfort, the cooler it got.  I washed my hair in the cheap shampoo and rinsed. 


         When I looked down at my feet, I saw the greyish film spiral down the drain.  I was mucky and so was my hair.  As the dirt left me, I felt my aches drain away too.  I felt so darned good.


         I dried off and walked about naked, seeking clean clothes to wear.  I wasn’t the smallest female, so I couldn’t wear the children’s clothing.  The woman was tiny but she obviously had hips that allowed me to wear her jeans. 


I found a t-shirt in the man’s drawer.  I snatched up extra items to take with me.  I found a hiking bag in the master closet and stuffed it with pants, shirts and under-gear.  I wanted to make sure I could also stay fresh, so I grabbed deodorant and soap too.  A face town and bath towel were great additions too.


         I looked for other small things to take and then headed into the living room to get dressed.  The quiet was becoming unsettling, like high-pitched, white noise.  I needed voices.


         I switched on the television.  Before my eyes, on the 55”-inch HD screen was the emergency broadcast system color bars blaring its high tone.  There was no message scrolling across the bottom of the screen.  No disembodied voice stating what the emergency was.  Just the color bar.  Just the tone.


         It was frightening.  What happened that took everyone from the streets and neighborhood?  I looked around the trashed room, covered in blood. There was nothing.  No bodies- no body parts- nothing that gave any indication of what took place in this house or the community.


Where are the people?


         I went into the kitchen after searching the house and found zilch.  I kept the tv on but muted.  If something happened to come on, some sort of announcement, I didn’t want to miss it.  I found a jar of pickles in the fridge.  They were a little warm but still cool enough to eat.  I didn’t really trust anything else in there.  It was like most of the food went bad months ago.  To say the fridge stank was an understatement!


         How could the place be so deserted?  In my mind, I kept thinking of the old history photos of Hiroshima.  After the bomb, for a while, all you saw was the rubble and smoke.  The damage was more than devastating but eventually you saw people.


         They came out in droves: sickly, injured, dead.  You saw them.  Could there possibly be no survivors here?  And if not, what happened to decimate them all and leave the neighborhoods still standing?  And was there anything from this blow that could infect me like radiation?


         I had to leave the house.  It was obvious I wouldn’t find the answers here.  I decided to eat my fill, pack the compact in the garage and take off after a shower and a nap.




“I love you Momma”, she said while running away.  Looking over her shoulder, she giggled.  She was beautiful, her hair in two pigtails of curls.  They bounced all around her pretty, little head.


“I love you too, Mommy!”  The boy was just as adorable.  The exact face as the girl but male.  They were cut from the same cloth.


Running after the children was exhausting and fun.  They were hers and she was theirs.  It was a warm feeling, seeing them play.  She didn’t want it to end.


The sky was a beautiful blue, sprinkled with luscious clouds.  There was a breeze blowing, making the wheat lean and raise like an ocean.  It was picturesque.  Birds sang over-head and each inhalation smelled of fresh green grass and nature.


No other place to be than with the children.  They were so happy and so was she.  She loved being happy with them.  They were her everything.  She watched them go.


The children giggled and ran as fast as their little legs would carry them.  Deeper into the grain, towards a wooden fence.  The wheat was so tall; she could barely see their heads bouncing about.


But what about the fence?  It was like someone pulled the boards from a fencing wall and then left a piece of the barrier.  It covered nothing as far as she could tell; it was just a piece of a wall.


The children were running towards it.  Their creamy, golden skin glistened with a light sweat from the warmth and their exertion. She could hear their laughter like music on the wind; she laughed with them.


 “I’ll catch you both and gobble you up!”  More squeals of gaiety and then…




 A feeling of dread began to creep over her.  The children were running too close to the wooden gate ahead.  Near the gate stood a large tree.  Next to the tree, a rather large horse.  A stallion or something.  She didn’t know why but they didn’t need to get close to such a big animal.


“Wait!” she called out but they didn’t hear.  They were too far ahead.  “Don’t go near that horse!”  She called out.  If they spooked the big guy-


The horse reared up on hind legs.  The children screamed and stopped dead in their tracks.  The neighing of the horse was wild and frightening.  His hooves came down like thunder across the sky.


A flash of lightening overhead.  She looked up and the blue sky was gone.  In place was a darkness crept in, so pitch it was like looking into a hurricane! Again, the horse rose up and came down with a thunderous clap!


“Please don’t hit the babies,” she prayed.  And he didn.t.  He turned and ran past the fence and was gone within minutes.  No one moved…


Until there was shuffling ahead, at the edge of the tall, wooden fence.  She stood still, squinting to see what the shadow was. It was difficult to see since the wind became fierce.  There was a storm brewing by the likes of the Gods and vision was compromised. 


One twin took the others hand and began walking towards the fence.  They didn’t look back to see her waving her arms in the air.  They couldn’t hear her voice calling, beckoning them to return.  They wanted to know who was behind the fence.


“NO!”  She called. They continued to the edge of the fence and stopped as the shadow began to reveal it.  It was a person.  A boy.


No.  “No children, come back!”  She began to run as the boy became exposed.  His little body was grotesque, as though burned.  His hair and skin were black with cracks that showed pink flesh beneath.  He’d been burned badly, so bad that the only coloring other than his exposed flesh below the crust were his eyes.


He didn’t have a nose and part of his head, where hair should have been showed spots of scorched skull.  Oh it was terrible….


He greeted the children with open arms as they walked towards him. He appeared to smile but it was difficult, since his lips were burned away, leaving a ghoulish grin. He wanted them with him.  To play and laugh and "die.  She felt he wanted them to die and stay with him.  He’d take her babies and she’d be alone.  She had to stop him.  To save them.  She began to run.


Then he smiled at her.  While sharing his skeletal grin, he scooped the twins into his arms.  This dead boy, about the same age as her twins.



© 2012 Cre8nFrmWithn

Author's Note

Hello! Please let me know what you like or dislike about my story. I'm not looking to be published, just enjoying a hobby. thanks!

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Added on March 16, 2012
Last Updated on April 4, 2012



Kirkwood, MO

My name is Alyssa and I am a Domestic Homeschool Engineer. I like to write, leaving some details to the reader's imagination. I describe but do not wish to over-indulge. Many things are best when l.. more..

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