Waking darkness

A dark fantasy story.

Once upon a time, in a land very far away there was a small child born into the world. His first cries echoed through the dark valley of the house where his mother lay and a renewed peace settled in throughout the land. Animals were quiet and the wind held still for a moment….

 

  “Oh man, how does my mind come up with this garbage?”

His hand fell limp off of the keyboard .He sighed regretfully at the screen lighting up the dark room.

” How to make things exciting…”

Maybe, short sentences with more action words?

“Ya , but no one gives a damn about action if the story line sucks.”

Why do you need a story line?

“That’s the most idiotic thing I’ve ever heard. You have to have a good story line because if you don’t, everything will get all muddled up and it won’t feel real.

Does, your life have a story line? Aren’t most people’s lives all muddled up? Is it not more accurate for things to just go as they come along?

 

He blinked, and thought about it for a moment.” You just don’t do it like that because, it’s not how you’re supposed to write,” he said quietly.

He was talking to himself again.       

 

    “Sit back and enjoy the ride through the rabbit whole, deeper and darker, down yonder. Feel reality split into fantasy and again know the exhilaration of being free. The chains that bind are only pulled tighter when the mind believes  what it is told”

 

 

Jason awoke roughly to the sound of an old church bell. The room which he occupied was dark and the only light came from a dusty window and a small flickering candle resting on the table in front of him. He rose to inspect the room when he heard a “clank” and looked down at his foot to see it shackled by a rusted iron chain to the grey and black tiled floor. The room held spider webs in numerous proportions and a eerie feeling made the hairs on his neck prickle. The light coming from the window was pale and the only sense of wholeness in the room came from the small little candle on the archaic wooden table. Wax was trickling down the side of the candle’s body and the flame was a dark orange and yellow. Next to it was a old fashioned type writer with a missing H key. As he moved his hands to press one of the letters he realized that his hands were bound in linen wraps and tied off in thin leather strips.  Why? Why, are we here again?! We made the deal didn’t we? Yes of course we did. He promised us. The small window on the wall began to brighten. Brighter and brighter until it filled the room, until it pierced Jason’s eyes, burning him deep and even brighter when it shattered sending glass shooting through the air. The candles light glistened off of the shards flying past.  As if the window was a damn breaking, darkness filled the room like water flooding a valley. Even the candles glorious light was extinguished, leaving the room a desolate pitch black .He could hear only the sound of his sporadic breathing. Then he noticed something different. Faintly at first and then more steadily he heard footsteps coming from the broken window. Steady yes, but the pace seemed some how malevolent. His heart beat quickened and he tried to slow his breath. Silence once again fell upon the room. A tantalizing laugh radiated from a few feet in front of him. Jason tried to talk but his mouth wouldn’t budge.

 “Please,” said the crooked voice that had laughed a moment ago.

”hold all questions until addressed to speak.”

A loud snap echoed through the room and the little warm candle that resided on the table sprung again to life.

It was somehow different from when he awoke in the room though. No longer was it a dark orange and yellow, but a bright red burning with preponderance. The figure in front of Jason was hunched with its back turned to him. It was small, like the size of a young child and its arms drooped, coming only to its waist.

”do you wish to know what I look like?” the figure asked with amusement.

Without an answer it turned and Jason tried to scream.

”scared of little old me,” it asked with false innocence.

The thing looked like something out of a poorly written fantasy story. Its skin was dark crimson, boarded by a little black tuxedo. Its arms were too small and each finger was tipped by a long claw. Its wide face was split into an anticipating grin and out of its forehead sprung too little curled horns.

Author's Note

I just started this, put about 15 minutes into it.still need to do a bit of editing. I'm very new to writing so any helpful suggestions or comments are very welcome.I haven't really been able to get any feed back on here but i still try.