Scary Stories to Chill Your Bones – The Nightmare

Are you ready for the next Scary Story to Chill your bones? This story found inspiration from my own home, while my floors and walls aren’t the same, my side of the bed gave me a clear view all the way down our long hallway. Ha! I made my husband move our bed around just so I wouldn’t have to look down it. (He’d offered to switch sides, but who does that!!) So without further adieu, I give you The Nightmare.

The Nightmare

A shadow, or was it a sound which woke me?

The hairs on my neck stand upright. Was I dreaming?

I blink and peer deeper into the long corridor, willing my body to stay locked under the patchwork quilt. My black cat’s tail whips in the doorway of my bedroom.

“Chester?” I whisper.

The moon’s rays focus on the cat’s sleek fur. He arches his back, yowls, and bolts down the hallway, lost in the night.

I wait for the terror in my stomach to subside, but it only builds. My eyes dart to my bedside clock.

Blackness.

 Is the power off? I listen for the reassuring sounds of the air conditioner to comfort me. Nothing but my beating heart.  

I place my feet on the floor. Mud squishes between my toes. My breath catches.

My knees hit the ground, snapping a twig. I back against the wall, hoping beyond hope that my white gown won’t act as a beacon for the shadow to find me.

That’s when I see it. Black and moving.

The beast rolls or was it crawling? I can’t tell. The creature wheezes and sniffs the air before scuttling into the kitchen. Chester screeches, then goes silent.

I stand. I’ll run to my neighbors. A tear springs to my eye, and I shake my head. I’m taking care of their pets. They’re on vacation.

Think.

I press my palms into my temples.

Think.

Mildred lives a mile away, but I can take a shortcut through the forest. I’ve done it often during the day to feed the old lady’s chickens.

Yes, I’ll go to Mildred’s house.

The terror gives me haste, and I bolt down the hall. My hand reaches for the brass knob. I fling the exit open and push through. Freedom. I’ve done it.

I crash against glass knocking me to the ground. Its smoothness cools my fingers. Solid. I press my cheek against it and look out at towering black trees.

My chest heaves and a new sense floods in. The smell of decay. I crouch. The moon produces long beams of light against the floor. Only there isn’t a floor. It’s moss and earth and leaves. I gaze to where the ceiling should be, but I see only a starless sky.

The ground shakes along with the walls, and I steady myself.

My bedroom window. I’ll hang from the seal. It won’t be that far of a drop.

Methodically, I move, careful to not make a sound. My hands shake as the peeling paint flakes under my fingertips. A coldness seeps up from the earth and my teeth chatter. I clench my jaw and strain to listen for the wheezing. With each step, the shadow will lock its gaze on me. Terror pulses through my veins. I want to stop, to dig a hole in the earth and wrap my arms around my knees and cry, but that means death. I know it.

From behind me, its sickly breath gasps for life.

I rush across the soil and into my bedroom, slamming the door shut. The dresser can keep me safe. The doors never have locks. My back stiffens as I push the cabinet over, sealing myself in the room. That’ll give me time. I swallow. The door bulges inward, and the hissing echoes off the flowered wallpaper.

I move, throwing open the window. There is never a screen. Balancing on the seal, I lower myself until only my fingers cling to the splintered wood. The forest floor is just eight feet below my feet. It shouldn’t hurt if I roll.

I hear the chest of drawers splinter apart as the wheezing is above me now.

I drop.

My arms and legs somersault end over end until I tumble to a stop at the edge of the ravine. The moon shimmers overhead, revealing a warped pitch-black sky. The sky never looks right. I turn onto my belly and crawl to Martha’s. To freedom.

My right ankle burns, and I try to rub life into the bone, but my palms are wet with blood.

Far away, a wintry cackle chills my insides.

Mud pushes under my fingernails. Snot and tears choke me. I will make it.

Then I reach it.

The glass. It’s always there. Waiting for me. Stopping me.

I remember now. I’ve been here for years.

Trapped under a bell jar.

The air thins, and I struggle for breath. I want nothing more than for the earth to swallow me whole. My arms wrap around my knees. Tears flood my eyes and the smell of decay and wheezing overtake me.

A shadow, or was it a sound which woke me?

The hairs on my neck stand upright. Was I dreaming?

I blink and peer deeper into the long corridor, willing my body to stay locked under the covers.

Tell me what you think!

I hope you are enjoying my Scary Tales to Chill Your bones!! I know I enjoyed writing them.

Hey, I’d love to hear from you! Was it just a dream? Or was it real? What was the beast? Who laughed? I want to know what you think. Oh and Stay tuned to next Friday for The Shades.