I Know You're Awake

The scream came around two in the morning, down the hall, where I knew my mother and father slept.

It's five now, and my palms are slick with sweat. Even under the blanket, I feel chilled. The can see those hazel eyes glowering into my back, no, not see. I am turned so that I don't have to see. I feel it, through my spine, those tremors running down my vertebrae.

Now it's five, and the first lights of dawn are beginning to seep through the window. I can hear birds chirping outside, welcoming a new day, embracing the early sunlight.

A single strand of blonde hair tickles my neck, but I ignore the itchiness. I have to hold still.

That night, while I had still been blissfully asleep, a scream of terror entered my dreams and jerked me awake. That scream had been my mother's. To me, it was like a knife being scrapped down a bone.

"Mum-"

But the word died on my lips as my throat turned dry. There was a shuffling in the hallway, and then suddenly it is there, ten feet tall, his breath a dry, deep rasp.

There were two objects half his size that he was holding in either hand, and I recognized the willowy frame of my mother and the large feet of my father.

I tasted bile deep down in my stomach, and I forced myself to stay still. The figure rounded the corner, breathing heavily, and I can see through squinted eyes the limp figures of my mom and dad.

The creature's footsteps are loud and thundering, and he shuffles into my room, smelling of death and blood and decaying ends of things I did not want to think about.

He is no human, yet he is. He has a bald scalp, glistening with sweat.

The creature leans over me, and I try not to scream as he lowers my mom, facing me, onto my bed, her right hand in my hair, her left nearly touching my back.

The monster turns, and I can see the knife in his belt stained with red, a sword ominously long and glinting wickedly in what light penetrated the window at four in the morning.

He drags my chair over into the corner, and I hear him pushing my dad's body into it, facing it, also towards my bed.

I nearly scream. He doesn't have a face.

Where his eyes should be are empty indentions, sockets without the eyes. The rest of the face was stretched unnaturally, his skin drawn, pale, like old milk.

Then he draws the sword, and, for a moment, I wondered if he was going to drive the blade into my heart right then and there and end my life. But no, he shuffles over to my father, and carves an 'X' in his throat, drawing blood. He dabs his hand into the red and moves to the wall opposite my bed, beginning to paint.

After, the thing slides himself under my bed to hide until I rise out of bed. He's been hiding for over an hour now.

But the worst thing, worse than the death of my parents, worse than the fact that their blank, empty eyes are staring at me, is the message he has left on the wall, the one that chills my blood.

I know I am dead. Why not rise up now?

The sunlight streaks through the window, and catches the words.

I know you're awake.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Reviews

[Wolfwind]

Oooh! A fun and twisted tale of the grim reaper combined with the moster under the bed. Very nicely woven together to leave the ending as a feeling of creepy. lol
I could feel the fear and dread that the character must have felt seeing those words writen on the wall. It's like God coming down and saying... Okay... you've got ten minutes or you can walk out the door and die now...

Awesome read! Thanks for sharing!
Aaron - Wolfwind

[Lone Wolf]

thanks, wolfwind, for reviewing. :) sorry, I haven't been around because I was busy.

[Wolfwind]

No problem. I understand the whole being busy thing.