Angelic Monster

Book of the apocalypse - chapter 2

Chapter 2 - A place to rest

TW: Gore, psycological horror, spiders, depressing theme's

Word count: 801

Previous chapter:

"C'ome on! I even checked it for you, it should be safe enough."

"How can I... be sure of what... lies beyond if you... are... imaginary?"

Defeated, he sighs.

We have been arguing for a while now and the rain outside hasn't stopped at all.

"I'm going to...one of the stores... usually they have a room... in the back that can be... locked." Old words slowly enter my mind. I guess I didn't forget everything.

"But the clock tower has a better view, you can be certain of your surroundings and make better plans for when the rain stops!"

"Quiller... I am not going in there-!"

Quickly I place my hand in front of my mouth and stop talking.

I must have yelled too loud, because I hear something approaching us.

Something dragging.

Another walking faster.

Shit!

Taking out just one is already quite the feat, two might be impossible, especially in such a confined space.

I've lived like this for years, but only thanks to knowing when to run and when to fight.

After all... they aren't a lot like zombies from old moving pictures.

And it certainly wasn't a virus that caught them.

Not a virus any human or animal could have gotten.

Quickly and quietly I hide behind a corner.

I see the two- no... four!

There's four of them!

Goddammit!

They're still scanning their surroundings.

I just hope they don't-

The one that seems to be the leader looks straight at me, making a strange noise.

Quiller is standing by the door to the tower: "I think this really is our safest bet."

"You... you asshole, you knew didn't you?! You planned for this to happen!"

I don't look at his face, I don't want to look at it.

Wow, betrayed even by an imaginary fiend.

I hold my spear in a way to protect myself as one of them lunges at me.

Before I know it I'm surrounded.

Their half decaying flesh, half robotic faces look hungry at me.

"You assholes fight like... like bitches!" I yell at them, knowing full well the futility of it. The same strange words I recognize as curses leave my mouth one after another.

How strange... but it feels right.

Trying to give myself an escape route I slice off an arm from one of the creatures.

With a sloshy thud it falls onto the floor and rolls away.

Almost immediately a new arm starts to grow, one not made of flesh... but of some kind of metal.

A dark liquid spills onto the floor, smelling like a combination of something rotting and machine oil.

As I try to slice the new one off, I'm only able to dent it a little bit.

I feel my hope sink.

"I guess I have no choice but to use 'that'..."

I take a small machine from one of the pockets in my belt.

It's still a work in progress, but this is better than nothing.

Do I really have to use my piece of hard-work here?

Well... I guess it beats dying.

In a swift movement I press a button and make it stick to one of my attackers' heads.

I'm sorry...

The creature starts to scream.

A scream sounding more and more like that of a human it once was.

I'm sorry...

The others get alerted by the sound and start attacking their once fellow creature.

I hate to do this, but a better decoy doesn't exist.

Even if the creature had become fully human again, it would have died in an instant.

I haven't found anything against that yet.

Quickly and quietly I rush to Quiller.

I give him a glare, saying: 'Fine... I will do it your way asshole!' and get myself through the small door in the ceiling.

He seems to be slightly frightened by my cursing.

It's a good thing I've gotten used to doing parkour.

Jumping from one wall to the other and climbing up is nothing.

I breathe a sigh of relief as I notice that it doesn't end in a small space to crawl through.

I might have gone right back out if that was the case.

It's open.

I close the small door behind me, I really don't want those creatures getting up here and then I turn my flashlight on to look around.

The room is mostly empty, except for the layer of dust and an old couch.

The clock is the window, but it has gotten so dirty thanks to the dust, seeing through it is nearly impossible.

I scan through the room with the light in my hand, I really hope there is nothing up here.

There is a dusty, old couch in the middle and the only source of light is coming from the dirty clock, that's also somewhat of a window.

Luckily there is no one here.

"Hey, are you okay?" Quiller asks, looking rather worried: "You didn't get bit, right?"

I shake my head, I better not answer him right now.

Those creatures one floor below us, worry me.

I carefully walk over to the couch.

Maybe now is the best time to start reading that book.

I take the old object out of my bag and open it.

Snowglobe

A short horror story I wrote.

TW: Abuse, blood

Word count: 655

Hilda wakes up early in the morning, quietly she gets out of bed and walks to her window. As she opens the curtains she sees that there is a thick layer of snow outside. Her heart jumps with joy, not only will she get presents today, there is also snow!

Maybe she could build a snowman outside her house or hold a snowball fight with her friends. She would have an amazing day anyway.

She goes back to bed, her parents rather don't have her out at this time in the morning, Hilda knows that very well. Back under the warm blankets she tries to get just a bit more sleep.

It's time!

Hilda can hear her parents footsteps and whispering in the hallway, so she gets dressed and leaves her room.

Just before lunch her aunt arrives.

Hilda loves her aunt very much, she is a kind woman and always pampers her.

When her aunt enters the room she has a big box with her.

"Natalie, you know better than to spoil the girl so much." Her mother tells her sister.

"Well it's just the time of year to spoil such well-behaved kids like her." She smiles and gives a box to Hilda: "Be careful, it might break if you aren't."

Hilda immediately starts being more gentle with the box, when she gets everyone's approval she opens the box carefully.

In it there is a giant snowglobe, in it is a giant Christmas tree, surrounded by little houses.

Hilda looks up in awe: "Thank you auntie!" her eyes shining like a thousand stars.

Her aunt smiles at her: "Do you like it?"

"Yes, Yes, I love it!"

Carefully she shakes it a little, it makes it snow in the little village!

"Auntie..."

"Yes."

"Do you think there might be people living in the village?"

"If that makes you happy, then sure." Her smile is warm and comforting.

Hilda and her aunt take the snowglobe to her room and place it gently in a great spot, one where it stands safe and is able to be seen from any side of the room.

After lunch Hilda decides to go outside to play with her friends, she puts on her snowshoes, her warmest jacket and her gloves.

"See you soon!" Hilda calls out to the rest.

"Just be back before it gets dark!" Her father calls back.

As she opens the door she notices that it has started to snow again, heavily. Maybe even violently.

The snowflakes fly around everywhere.

Then the sky starts to break.

It breaks and shatters.

Shards fall down.

And then the blood rain starts.

Coloring the cold snow a hot, dark red.

The smell of iron can be smelled everywhere.

In just a few seconds everything has turned red.

A woman sits crying in a corner.

"ImsosorryImsosorry!"

She can't stop herself from apologizing.

The tears fall down like a waterfall, creating short-lasting stains in the old carpet.

"For the last time Hilda! THERE. ARE. NO. PEOPLE. LIVING. INSIDE. THIS. THING!!!"

Hilda whimpers.

"For god sake, GET THE FUCK UP AND LISTEN TO ME!!"

Hilda starts apologizing again, she can't control it, but it makes her husband get even more upset.

He keeps yelling and yelling at her, she doesn't really understand what he is saying anymore.

Is it really my fault? She wonders.

I don't even know what I did wrong?

Her husband is completely red-faced from anger.

So much anger.

He yanks her by her hair.

Then he takes her most prized possession.

Her snowglobe.

He takes it in one hand and hits her with it.

And again.

And again.

TWHACK!

TWHACK!

CRACK!!!

The glass shatters and the man kills his wife with the broken snowglobe.

Blood and water gets mixed and drips with the snowflakes onto the floor.

It doesn't take long for the police to arrive, the neighbors called. For a long time they had always looked away to what happened in that house, but the last blood curdling scream was enough for them. They did what they never thought they would do, calling the police.

The husband was arrested at the spot, but the damage was already done.

Hilda will never move again nor will she ever talk about the people living inside the globe again.

Trainride at night

A short horror story I wrote a while ago

Word count: 1208

TW: Gore, body horror, blood

For so far I could see and hear, the train seemed to be entirely empty. There was no movement or other sounds either, except for my own.

A soft krrsss can be heard as I turn a page of the book I'm holding.

Outside its dark. Not just dark that you can see something, no it is pitch black. Like the windows are just painted walls or someone put the plastic bags made for trash cans onto the windows.

Bored I stare at the unmoving words in the book I am holding in my hand. Too tired to actually read them. Too tired from the long day, but it's not like I have anything better to do anyway.

With my elbow I lean against the window in order not to fall asleep.

"ugh..." I sigh annoyed as I slam my book shut, I can't stay awake if I keep staring at my book!

I look around, but the only movement is that of the moving vehicle as it gently drives over the railway tracks. It drives so gently and quietly it almost sounds like humming. The sound is not annoying in any way, but doesn't help me with staying awake.

Even if the train drives so quietly, it is still going quite fast.

Sudden all the lights go out and it becomes even darker.

I can't see the windows.

I can't see my hands.

I can't see the closed cover of my book.

I can't see anything.

It is almost as if the world stopped existing, the only proof of it not being the case is the soft humming of the train wagons.

I am tired.

So tired.

I wonder if the train driver has forgotten that they still have one passenger, but we are still driving and we haven't passed my station yet.

Blinded by the darkness I feel around for my bag and take out my phone.

Too Bright!!

I shield my eyes from the light from my phone as I try to find the flashlight function.

My tired eyes really seem to need the extra time adjusting to the light.

I look around, something was off.

Not my seat, but all the others looked... thorned up and very old.

Weird, I'm sure that this is a relatively new train.

I quickly put my book in my bag and decide to look around. I don't feel safe to just sit in one place.

I decide that the best option is to look for the driver, so forward it is.

With my light forward and holding trying to keep away the fear, I walk through the seemingly endless train.

After a bit I notice that everything in the train starts looking worse, missing seats and then broken glass.

All of a suddenly another train passes mine, the lights are on, but no one seems to be on it... wait no, someone is there.

A strange figure stands by the window, as I look closer I see the familiar shape of myself.

It's me.

But wrong.

The head is twisting too fast for a human and bones are sticking out of its body.

I can see my ribs poking holes out of the chest with blood streaming down.

Both trains seem to be going the same speed now and I stand facing the other me, without saying a word I stare at it, readying myself for anything.

Then the head stops twisting and it stares at me with one eye hanging loosely over the right cheek.

I quickly take a step back.

"Who..." I whisper, but as I try to speak the other me shakingly puts a finger against its lips.

I try to breathe normally, but it is getting more and more difficult.

After a staring contest (and battle for me not to empty my stomach here) it suddenly jerks an arm pointing to my left.

What the hell?!

Don't go to the front of the train, go back.

Was that a voice in my head? Or did I say that out loud? How much is the other me able to take control?

"Right..." I whisper as I back off further, walking in the direction 'me' wants me to go.

A creepy smile appears on 'my' face, not mine, not mine at all.

Quickly I start running, I almost drop my phone thanks to my sweaty hands.

Luckily there is still some light from the other train, but on the other hand it creates many creepy shadows and sometimes it looks like other people are sitting or standing around me.

I run as fast as I can until my breath has all run out and I fall to the ground gasping for air.

I got to keep going.

I got to keep...

I got to...

I got...

I...

Darkness consumes my vision like many hands appearing and blocking my view.

Screaming doesn't work, something is blocking my mouth from opening.

.

.

.

As I open my eyes I see that the trains lights are working again, the other train is gone and I'm lying on the floor.

Did all of that really happen?

No, there is no way.

Carefully I get back up on my feet again and pick up my phone.

Oh crap, the screen is scratched. Well, hopefully I can get it repaired.

I turn it on, it still seems to work.

Something catches my eye, my phone's battery is 48%...

I could have sworn I had less than that, like 30% or something.

I put the device in my pocket and walked the way I was going before I collapsed.

Sssrrkkk....

Sssrrrkkk...

What is that noise?

It sounds like it is coming from a few seats in front of me.

Quickly I walk towards it, hoping to find another living human being that doesn't have bones sticking out.

Someone seems to be reading a book.

Again?

It is another me again, no blood this time though.

Quietly so as not to make a noise I walk by, when I stop, two steps apart, the other me stops turning the pages.

I take a step back, they suddenly turn a page again, the other way this time.

Don't tell me.... Is that 'me' in reverse of me?

When I take a step forward 'I' do it again.

So It really is reversed, now that I think of it, the train sounds different, so... is this also?

I don't get it, I want to get out!

I quickly run past myself to make sure I don't get attacked.

The thought of breaking a window jumps in my mind, but I don't want to attract any unwanted attention.

As I run I see another me and another me.

Everyone of them, doing something different or sitting somewhere else.

All of a sudden the sound of something breaking behind me catches my attention and I turn around to look.

It seems to be nothing at first, but then something else breaks again...

It's the lights.

One by one, like the darkness decided to walk toward me and with each one, it goes faster.

Again I run, passing by more other me's.

I can hear someone speaking behind me, but it all sounds like it is in reverse.

When I look behind me I bump into another me standing close to a door.

"Get out, get out!" I yell.

"Get OUT!!!"

I look up from my phone, did someone just talk to me?

I look outside, it is dark outside the train like usual around this time.

The humming of the vehicle almost makes me fall asleep.

The train comes to a halt.

Is this my stop?

Seems like it.

I press the button for the doors to open and after a second they do.

As they open and I step aside, my reflection appears rather strange.

Was I just smiling? Like really creepy?

Book of the Apocalypse - Chapter 4 Nightmare

TW: Gore, blood

Word count: 778

First chapter:

I look up from the book, this wasn't really the kind of story I was suspecting.

"How far did you get?" Quiller asks me not hiding his interest at all.

"I finished... the first."

He sighs: "Not the fastest reader, are you?"

I look at him, annoyed: "I read at my own speed.... reading just like eating? The slower you read, the more you... enjoy it."

"Alright, alright. So, did you-?"

"Nah."

"What?"

"I thought... it was going to be cooler, maybe something with heroes. Even a book about a ghost might... be interesting."

Utter defeat is written all over the 'imaginary' guys face, making me chuckle.

"You're mean."

"Kind people in an apocalypse are useless."

He looks at me for a moment and then asks: "So, you're going to throw it out now?"

I look at him: "Nah. It might become more... entertwini- entertaining later on." Speaking is still difficult, especially when I try to speak without mistakes.

He gives me a sad smile.

"Why do you care?"

He hesitates for a moment to answer.

"Well, like I said, It's a pretty good book."

I nod: "Yeah, you really aren't the... writer, right?"

He looks at me in shock: "N-no... I mean..."

"Just kidding, It just said Ex Libra's Q.F. Shannon. But that might mean it used to be yours." I'm not sure, but believe I might have used a wrong word there.

"I've never owned anything." Quiller protests: "I've always been imaginary."

If I were to throw away this book right now, I would probably lose my imaginary friend with it. Or at least that is my theory. I only met him after opening this thing after all.

Yeah, it might be strange for an adult to have one. But if this keeps me from going insane, then so be it.

I will be the most childish adult in this entire apocalypse.

Even if I'm all alone in it now.

I get up from the couch and start placing traps around.

"What are you doing?"

"Making sure I won't get... my sleep disturbed... by one of those... those half-dead jerks."

"I see." Quiller mutters, slightly hesitant probably due to me cursing again.

I lie down on the old couch.

Even though it's all dusty, I haven't had such a nice bed in ages.

I've gotten used to my jacket on the floor for a while now and it doesn't take long for me to fall asleep.

I'm sitting in something I recognize as a car.

I seem to be sitting here with a bunch of people with wiped out faces.

Even though that is the case I feel strangely at ease with them.

One of them turns to me and calls me by my name.

"Yes?" I ask and the other shows me a toy, a toy car? If I'm correct.

I look outside the windows and notice that we're driving.

We move around the corner and I see strange people standing outside.

Their eyes glow strangely blue.

The car crashes into something and the strange people outside start running towards us, their mouths covered in blood.

From one moment to the next, I notice that I'm standing outside and it's dark.

It's raining outside.

I hold up my hand to the rain.

It drips onto it and then a flickering streetlight shows me that there is something wrong with the rain.

It's red.

It's thick and red.

Falling out if the heavens like rain, blood keeps pouring down.

It starts to stick to the streetlight, making the only light in my world slowly disappear.

I run towards it for rescue, but it all turns dark just before I can reach it.

In the distance I hear growling...

My eyes flash open and I quickly sit up, completely out of breath.

What a horrible nightmare.

I guess even though I have a decent place to sleep, the nightmares are something I will never be able to get away from.

I look at the light entering the room via the clock.

I guess it's morning already.

This must be a good place to stay then.

I sit up and silently take out the old, worn map from it.

With a pen I mark the spot and write 'Clock/Attic' next to it, while using the book as support for the paper.

"Good morning." Quiller says, seeming a bit down.

"'Morning." I whisper, while looking at him questioningly.

"Don't worry, nothing happened while you were asleep. You did seem to be having a nightmare."

I shake my head: "What did you expect?" I nudge my head a little towards the window: "Be happy for the strength we gained from... a little shut-eye."

Unfortunately he doesn't seem to want to take the joke as a joke. Perhaps he didn't even notice.

"Life shouldn't be like this." He mumbles more to himself than to me.

I look at him with a sudden question burning in my mind: "Did you sleep on the floor? Or float?"

"Float? I'm not a ghost you know."

"Oh really?"

"I'm just a figment of your imagination."

"You keep that up, but really... it's getting harder to believe every time."

The machine that brought the dead back to life - Part 1

A slightly longer short horror story I wrote, cut into two.

Word count: 1947

Tick tock

The soft ticking of a clock echoed through a grey room.

Tick tock

Together with the rhythmic sound of the ticking clock you can hear the ticking of many fingers on many keyboards.

Tick tick tock

The tapping on the keyboards is much more out of tune compared to the ticking of the clock.

Grey tables are placed in long, neatly arranged lines from one side of the room to the other, on all of those tables sit people dressed in grey uniforms. The grey floor matches the rest.

All of this is colored in a slight blue light, caused by the many blue screens behind which these people are working.

For now, the hard working people ignore the clock, their work is more important.

Their income is more important.

Time is money.

Life is money.

All of these people had been carefully selected for working at a rather prestigious company, one that only allows a select few to enter their offices.

They have these selections for even the lowest of the ranks, such as these.

There doesn't exist a company more important than this one.

For this company controls life itself.

Life and death have been enslaved by this company.

In a city of steam and ash, this place is known as the best place to work at.

Complicated machinery is just in the other room, people can bring their loved ones back from the dead with a pricetag.

Still to leave them deceased is now being seen as immoral, because why would you let your loved ones die? No matter how much the person wanted to take the forever rest, the people that would allow it could lose their status and jobs. Sometimes they could even go to prison for cold blooded murder.

At one desk sits a woman, her name is Clara, dressed in the same uniform as the rest, typing away diligently at the computer. She types it all at an incredible speed.

Even though she is so amazing at her work, promotions are hard to come by, still she's happy with her job.

This job makes it so that she and her husband can live the life they want to, unfortunately his job has a much lower status than hers, but she loves him nonetheless. He always returns her love with the same amount, always wishing he could do more for them.

The husband, his name is Drew, makes a living as a car-repairman, machinery like that is his forte, his calling.

A small one bedroom apartment with a living room that's also the kitchen. They also have a small bathroom with only the bare necessities.

Living costs are rather high for them, causing them to almost have to live hand-to-mouth.

It has only been recently that Clara had started working at the company and their lives have already changed for the better. Food was something they could afford almost every day now, no need for living days on old bread crusts anymore. If they were to save up a bit, they might even be able to afford a bottle of wine.

Back at work Clara worked hard whilst thinking of when she could go back to the love of her life.

With their future only just beginning, they could start making plans on what to do next with their lives.

Perhaps save up money for a trip or to eat something nice one day.

A loud bell goes off and the people behind the computers start finishing up the last bits of their work, readying themselves to return to their homes.

Some chat with others for a bit before leaving, others leave quietly and speedily.

Clara says goodbye to her co-workers and takes her leave.

Through the dark streets she wanders, through the thick mist that is the smog, passing by the street lanterns that just barely show the heads of the people walking by.

Cars travel by, old-timey and repaired again and again, that it is the question if they really were the same cars as they started out as. Perhaps even the oldest parts have all been changed up.

Finally Clara makes it home, taking off her shoes before entering and embraces her beloved as he comes to greet her.

He calls to her, speaks her name, his voice tired from work, but still full of love, he had already made dinner for the two of them.

Over dinner they talk about how their day was, the work they did and their dreams for the future.

Then they rest on the small old couch by the tv.

The object looked as if it has seen better days and has been adjusted many times. Different colored plates can be seen bolted all over it. There are even some bolts that seem to have been placed at random and without purpose.

On the tv an advertisement plays, it shows the company for which Clara works causing the two to joke around about it.

Drew calls Clara 'Frankenstein's assistant' and Clara pokes fun at him for being the one to bring dead cars back to live.

The ad shows a famous person who had been brought back to life and was thanking the company that they were able to return back to working again so soon after the revival.

The teasing continues, until the pair is too tired to continue.

The next day was another day of hard work for the two, weekends aren't very common here, only certain people are entitled to it.

Like usual Clara took the smog filled streets to the giant building that was her workplace, her 'second home' the bosses would joke about.

Clara followed the crowd towards the grey room with all the desks.

Like always she sat down on her desk and started typing away.

A couple of hours later a small man wearing fancy clothes with golden buttons entered the room, he is one of the higher-ups.

He called for Clara and she turned to look at him.

What could it be, she wondered.

Is it something good? Or something bad?

Most likely it was something bad.

She could feel the anxiety in her stomach every step she got closer to the man.

The man looked at her in pity.

"Please come this way." He told her and thus she followed him.

They walked up many stairs to eventually reach the top of the building.

The top floor was much different than the basement, the building was so high, you could see above the smog of the old city and see the horizon.

Many objects were coated in gold and the people here were dressed the fanciest Clara had ever seen.

Clara and the man entered a room and she was seated at the end of a large table.

The old man in charge sat at the other end.

"Clara, I've got bad news for you." He said his voice sounded hoarse from age.

Clara's heart sank.

"Your husband, Drew, passed away."

For a moment Clara didn't know what to feel or say, but then a wave of intense sadness overcame her.

The tears came and she wasn't able to stop them.

"My condolences." The old man added, but Clara almost didn't hear it due to the screaming of her heart.

Then a desperate idea entered her mind, she turned to her boss, looked him straight in the eye and asked: "Can you please bring him back to life?"

The old man smiled: "Please Clara, you know it is much more than you can possibly pay with your salary."

"Please, I will do anything, I will work more overtime, I will, I will..." Desperation got a strong hold of her and stopped her mouth from creating words.

"I'm sorry Clara, but I will have to think about that. Please return to your work."

The small man came to send Clara back to the basement of the building and shakingly she went with him.

She couldn't stop her tears, she couldn't stop herself from desperately trying to find an answer.

Back in the grey room she sat behind her computer again, only to be unable to continue her work anymore.

She had to see her beloved, she just had to see him, dead or alive. It just didn't matter.

Finally at long last, the bell rang and Clara rushed home.

Through the smog filled streets she ran, bumping into people without apologizing, tears running down her cheeks.

When she finally arrived home she was completely out of breath, but continued on nonetheless.

But he wasn't there, the only thing the apartment was filled with, was old memories.

Old memories that would never repeat.

Old dreams that would never come into fruition.

It didn't even feel like home anymore for Clara.

There was however a letter on the floor.

It was a letter about Drew's death, it had been sent by his boss.

In the letter he asked if she could come to the small workshop and talk about what had happened.

Without locking the door, she rushed outside again, running to the place he had last been alive.

At the old workshop she found the boss who seemed to be grieving as well, he too just lost someone important to him, yes an employee, but also a friend.

They talked between tears about Drew and what they would do now.

Eventually they came to the conclusion that maybe, if they both went, they could get him back.

So together they went back to the company at which Clara worked and tried to get the boss to understand, both promising everything if it should be so.

But again the boss refused, because even together they wouldn't be able to pay the price for bringing someone back.

A couple of days went by and Clara started having more trouble with work.

The small man with the golden buttons came by her desk and asked for her attention: "We have seen how much you're struggling with the loss of your beloved, we think it would be better if you take things a bit slower." A sinister smile crossed his face, making Clara shiver.

She knew what this meant very well, she would either get fired or get demoted to the lowest part of the company.

Corruption, she thought, the company has been corrupted to the core, well perhaps it has simply always been this way.

Money this, money that.

Life seems to only be able to be saved with enough money.

Still Clara obeyed and followed the man downstairs.

They entered a room that looked just like the one she had been working in before.

It was like an exact copy, but something about it felt... amiss.

Though she could not guess what it was that made her feel that way.

The man showed her to her new desk and left.

Despairing every possible mistake she could make, she carefully typed the day away.

During it, she noticed that some of the people around her were in a much worse shape than her, some coughing, some's clothes looked more like wet rags.

But to them it didn't seem to matter, they kept doing their job, without missing a key.

At the end, the bell rang and unlike in the other room, no one said goodbye to one another. Almost like they were ignoring each other.

Far behind Clara followed them out of the room.

As they entered a dark hallway Clara lost the group.

In the dark she searched, until she finally found a door.

Believing it to be the right one, she opened it.

Artificial red colored light entered the dark hallway.

She peeked through the opening.

It took a moment for her to register what was going on.

She saw the machine.

The machine with the power to bring the dead back to life.

The machine that saved so many.

It was a really strange one, different from what was being advertised on tv.

It was one for multiple people at once.

And around the machine's fumes, were people.

Working people, even though working hours were long over.

They worked in rags, rags worse than she had ever seen before.

The people worked and worked, some clearly in pain.

Then she suddenly recognized some of the people.

Those people were ones that died, but who's loved ones couldn't pay for them to be revived again...

[TO BE CONTINUED]

White hell

Here's another short story I wrote.

I hope you like it:)

TW: Gore & psychological horror

It's all white...

The room I'm in and the rest of this building is probably also all white.

I don't know where I am.

This cold blinding white, everything is this pale color, every object, all the furniture, every.... Everything.

I'm all alone, in this unending place with only one color.

At first, I didn't see it as much of a problem, I am quite introverted after all. Put other people in this room and I would find it all the more terrifying.

But now, I've been here for hours, there are no windows or exits. Or at least I haven't found any.

I have no idea how late it is or what part of the day it could be.

It might be in the middle of the night or perhaps in the middle of a warm sunny day. Of course I wouldn't know, I'm stuck in this building. This building that's completely white on the inside.

There is barely even any shadow.

There is constant white light.

I wonder what would happen if I stay here for too long.

Will I go crazy?

Some time later...

It has been long... or at least I think so.

How long? I don't know.

I think probably a couple of weeks, maybe a month, but I could be very wrong, so maybe just a couple of hours?

I've no clue.

The white light makes me feel cold, not that I'm-in-danger kind of cold. But just an inside kind of cold.

Like my heart froze or it's just pumping cold fluid throughout my body.

I wonder if I'm still alive.

My hands are still warm though, so I might be.

I noticed that sometimes when I close a door and quickly open it again, that it wasn't the same room as before. On a couple occasions, the furniture will be on a wall or even the ceiling.

I've tried breaking through walls, but it doesn't matter, I'm not strong enough.

An unidentified amount of time later...

I found something!

Not an exit unfortunately, but something with color.

It's a pool, a swimming pool in this boring white building.

The water is a calm, light blue.

So I jumped in...

And got out disappointed, it had all turned white under water. Just as white as the rest.

The blue was just an illusion, a dream. Just a small wish for normality in this one color hell.

The white hell, huh... sounds pretty funny, also quite fitting.

Later...

I've made a friend!

My first friend in forever!

The most beautiful friend one could ask for.

It's a small blue butterfly and this time, the color is no illusion.

The one thing that totally made my day.

My friend is stuck here too, so we work together to find a way out.

It is a very good listener and goes with me wherever I go.

I still don't know what name I would give my friend, but is it really necessary? Who am I to decide the name of a creature so beautiful. I'm terrible at naming things.

Its wings are a warm kind of blue, like an ocean during summer looked at by the bright sun.

We eat together and I talk to it, I need someone to talk to anyway. I will definitely go insane if I don't.

More time passed

I don't know what to do.

I hate myself.

I killed my friend.

My one and only true friend in this white hell.

Poor little butterfly.

He didn't want to come with me anymore, so we got into an argument. He said some really nasty things to me and... and I ended up hitting him.

Oh God, what have I done...

With one small thump of my hand, he was no longer...

I cried.

I cried for, I don't know how long.

I mourned him.

And as I wanted to give him a proper burial in the white sand, I noticed something.

My friend had given me one last gift. Did he forgive me?

A new color.

Red.

It came out of him, just a little bit.

Just a small drop.

A beautiful crimson red.

I am so lucky to have had a friend like that.

Date unknown:

I have found more red.

More than before, now when I enter a room there is red splashed on the walls. Maybe even on the ceiling and floor. I don't know what up or down is anymore. I just move from box to box. Everything is the same. Same old. Same old.

The red gives me warmth, it's the same crimson color like my dear friend gave to me.

And when I stay too long it starts turning brown. That's pretty cool!

I didn't know it could do that!

It's pretty.

I open my eyes, I still haven't escaped the white room. I'm still here, trapped by cloth so I can't move. Still alone.

There is nothing else then this white hell.

What's for dinner?

A short horror story I wrote:)

Word count: 1025

TW: Gore

That is the question I've been wondering about lately.

Mom and dad are amazing people, so it's really not that I don't trust them.

The truth is, sorry I know I'm not allowed to do so, I've been listening a lot to Carl recently.

I know, I know, he always says such weird things.

But I mean, he is still my brother.

Our family is so big, but he's always on his own, so I decided to be his friend.

He has always seemed quite lonely, never saying a lot, if not remaining silent for multiple days at a time.

Sometimes it looks like everyone has decided he is crazy, but I have not.

Even in silence we are able to play together.

Yesterday as we played with our toys he spoke an entire sentence.

It was a question.

"Do you know what's for dinner?"

At first I looked up in shock at the fact he spoke at all, but I quickly regained my composure: "I don't know." I answered.

"You should see."

I tried asking him more about it, but he stopped answering completely.

No word, not even a peep came out of him for the rest of the day.

After a while he got tired of playing and started reading a book.

I left him to it and started looking for mom.

It didn't take long for me to find her.

"Mom, can I ask you something?"

"Of course you can, dear."

"What are we having for dinner tonight?"

It takes a second for her to answer.

Did I accidentally scare her?

I thought her face looked like that, even if it was just for a second.

"Chicken, mashed potatoes and some veggies. Did you not see it on the board?"

Oh right! I can be so stupid sometimes!

"Sorry mom, I forgot to check..." I hit myself in the face: "Can I help you with cooking?"

She smiles at me in a rather sad way: "I'm sorry dear, not today. Maybe some other time."

"Okay!"

I give her a hug and walk off to do something else.

As the time to finally eat dinner the sound of the bell can be heard throughout the whole house.

Like always, we eat by candle-light and we're eating everything like it says on the board.

Nothing weird, nothing strange.

Was Carl just messing with me?

The next day I spent my time with Carl again.

"Hey Carl" : I ask my brother: "What did you mean yesterday about the food?"

He stops moving the arm his toy is in and then looks up to face me.

"So you haven't seen it?"

"I don't know what I'm supposed to see."

"You should look again."

And off I am again, as I walk towards the board dad notices me.

"Hello dear, what are you doing here?" he asks with a kind smile.

"Well dad, I was just wondering what we were going to have for dinner today."

He laughs just as kind as he smiles: "Well aren't you curious! We will be eating soup and bread today."

I nod: "Thank you, that sounds delicious!"

And then I add: "Is there anything I can help you with dad?"

He pats me on my head: "Don't worry dear, you should just go and play with the others."

And just like he told me to, I go to my other siblings.

Unfortunately they don't seem willing to spend time with me, they even make mean jokes about me.

All because I'm supposedly stupid for spending time with Carl.

They say he's a bad child and that me spending time with him makes me just as bad.

Crying I go back to my room.

After a little while I suddenly hear a quiet knock on my door.

I don't open the door, I want to be left alone.

The others might even make more fun of me if they see that I'm crying.

I hate it.

But my thoughts have no control over whoever is behind the door and it slowly opens.

It's Carl.

Quickly I wipe away my tears, but it seems that he has already seen it.

Without speaking a word he walks into my room and gives me a hug.

Comforting me in silence.

After I've calmed down a bit more, he whispers something: "You should see what we have for dinner."

Again?!

The question makes me a bit angry.

"I already know! It's soup with bread."

I push him away.

Defeated, he looks me in the eye and then shakes his head.

"You should see again."

"I don't understand, Carl! Please just help me understand!"

The tears are back again and this time not only from my eyes.

Carl is crying.

I've never seen him do so before.

"Dinner... is not..." He mumbles, stumbling over the words or perhaps not finding the right ones.

He strangely makes no attempt to wipe away his tears, mumbling the same words over and over again.

Just what could he mean with that?

Isn't this going too far for a joke?

This time it's my turn to give Carl a hug, but as I get closer, he starts to shake.

Is he scared of something?

Then just before I can wrap my arms around his body he runs away, leaving a trail of tears behind.

Just why is he crying?

I try to go after him, but can't find him anywhere.

He doesn't even seem to be in his room.

As I look under his bed to see if he might be hiding there, I notice a small object with a note attached to it.

I take it to have a closer look.

On the note he has written my name.

It's a flashlight.

I click the on/off button a couple of times, but it seems to be broken.

Still I decide to take it with me.

At dinner, we all gather at the candle-lit table again.

I look over to Carl's seat, but it's empty.

I ask the others, but they only snicker and mom hushes to make us go quiet again.

The rule is 'No talking while eating', so I too stop asking.

Today I don't feel particularly hungry and get bored quickly.

The candle light makes it so it only shows the food we're eating, I can't see any of the others.

It's almost as if I'm eating alone or I might not even be there either.

As I fiddle a bit with my fork I suddenly remember that I have the flashlight.

Without much thought I take it out and press the 'on' button.

This time however it did turn on.

It showed...

The table...

In a terrible condition...

The food...

It looks horrible...

My family...

Doesn't look like my family...

Coffins for robots

Happy new year!!

Here's a short horror story I wrote that's part of the book I'm currently writing: 'Book of the Apocalypse' (You can read this without having ready anything from the book itself).

Word count: 1300

TW: Gore, blood, spiders, bodyhorror

Quietly I let my electric motorcycle come to a halt, leaving me and the world around me alone with the light of the moon and the stars.

I really need a place to stay the night, even though sleep is hard to find and even feared in times like these. Still it’s nice to have a place to rest.

I park my bike, locking it is unnecessary, there might just be me left after all.

Me in the whole wide world.

Me and the monsters.

Me on my own.

Well no time to be sulking about it, I will be fine on my own… probably.

I look at the dark building before me, once this would probably have been a proud church. People must have gone here in search of sanctuary and now it is my turn.

The place looks abandoned, even though most of the windows seem to be intact.

Well, lucky me.

No sleeping with the whispering wind that takes away my warmth tonight.

I decide to quit standing around doing nothing and make my way towards the giant doors.

One of them is slightly ajar.

I glance inside…

No movement.

It looks empty.

But somehow it freaks me out.

I don’t like this place, something about it just feels worse than wrong.

I sigh and try to get myself to toughen-up again: come on Sara, now is not the time. You’ve slept in places far worse than this.

Against the screaming feeling in my gut, my tired head takes control and I walk inside the cold building.

It’s freezing in here, it must have been a while since it had felt a warm body walk inside.

I wrap my arms around me in order to keep myself warm.

Accidently I startle myself by almost tripping over an old stone, making it echo and letting me know by sound just how big and empty the place really is.

It reminds me a bit of the place I slept in a couple of nights ago even though completely different it gave off the same hollow vibe.

It was a small cabin in which a murder had taken place, yeah the body like the smell was long gone, but the markings and stains still remained.

And the feeling.

The feeling of the terror the victim felt.

The feeling of the twisted villain that had committed it for its own filthy reasons.

God, the feeling I get from these places never seems to leave.

It’s almost as if they’re following me around everywhere I go, as untold stories lingering besides me, waiting for a moment to strike me at my lowest.

I’ve always known, even at a young age, even before the world went to shit, if someone had died at a place I was visiting.

And I can say with full certainty, that people have died here as well.

Unlike the other place, there have been more than one.

Perhaps even the whole church at some point.

Carefully I scan my surroundings, checking every bench and every corner, listening to any possible sound from an enemy.

There seems to be nothing here in this giant building.

Nothing at all.

Somehow… it’s just too quiet.

As I’m inspecting the kitchen I suddenly hear something loud coming from outside.

I better check it out in order to see if it’ll be a danger to me.

Taking a side door outside I find myself within a strange looking graveyard.

There are both big coffins standing above ground, made out of some kind of stone or perhaps metal.

There are also normal grave stones, but these seem to be in a much worse condition than the coffins.

Vigilantly I walk towards one of them.

I open the coffin’s lid.

It’s heavy and I need to push it away with my entire weight.

Panting I watch as the heavy lid falls loudly onto the floor.

I need to know what’s going on here. I keep telling myself even though I feel myself wavering.

Quietly I take a peek.

An ever so soft blue light is coming out of the coffin, so soft, it barely reflects back.

Someone is inside.

Or perhaps something?

A human figure seems to be lying inside.

Unmoving.

Unbreathing.

But for some reason, I know that it’s not a corpse.

Or at least that there’s no feeling that they once were human.

Believe me, I know when it is.

I can feel it.

This before me, although looking very human, is nothing more than a doll.

Soulless.

Never to move.

Except for in horror movies back in the day.

Suddenly I hear something move.

A shadow is standing in the distance.

The shadow of someone dressed rather old-fashioned.

A nun.

She seems to be carrying something heavy.

There is no way that she is human.

With my hand I immediately touch my trusted gun, calming me down a little, I don’t take it out just yet.

Quickly I glance back at the inside of the coffin.

Were the dolls eyes always open?

Swiftly I look back at where I spotted the moving shadow, only to find it having disappeared.

I sneak behind the coffin, hoping the nun hasn’t taken notice of me yet.

Hiding, I look around.

I better not stay here for long.

My bike. I need to get back to it!

The faster the better!

Scanning my surroundings I decide on multiple paths I could possibly take.

It’s good to have more than one plan of escape.

I should quietly zigzag around the graves, there are enough places to hide. For me as well as the nun…

I take another glance around and then finally make a run for it towards another coffin.

It’s closed like the rest, but this time I decide not to waste any time and just continue.

Quietly I rush towards another, still paying attention to everything, sound, feeling, sight. The things that have saved me countless times.

I hide behind another and another, until I’m finally at the one closest to the church.

I spot the familiar shadow of my bike, standing at the place I left it.

Another look around and I book it towards my vehicle.

But before I reach it a strange sound makes me stop.

It’s coming from right next to my bike.

Something like laughing, though it clearly never belonged to a human being.

It’s her again…

A shadow is towering over my main way of escape.

I now get a good look at it.

The nun’s clothes look haggard and her body exists out of both machine and human parts.

A zombie.

One of her eyes suddenly drops onto the floor, there isn’t much bounce in it, so it just drops into a mush.

A black fluid starts to slowly leave the empty hole and I spot many small spiders crawling inside.

I almost jump back.

The zombie nun then opens her mouth, licking her lips showing how hungry she is.

Before I know it I’m running away as fast as I can.

I glance behind me to see what she’s doing and find her almost catching up to me.

I should have never glanced back…

Something has taken hold of my arm.

It’s a doll.

But not the one from the coffin I had opened.

Could it be that all these coffins were filled with dolls?

Could they somehow be like the zombies?

I try to get loose, but another pair of arms grabs me as well.

Taking my gun, I start firing at everything that moves, but it’s useless.

I’m quickly disarmed.

My trusted weapon drops onto the grass with a soft thud.

Panicking, I start hitting whatever I can, but everything is just going too fast.

I can’t feel anything.

A strange half-digital sounding laugh coming from the nun’s croaked throat brings me back to reality.

I can feel my body turn cold.

Fuck!

It knew! It knew all along!

How could it have predicted this?

Zombies should be unable to do so!

Just what the hell is this?!

A face appears before me.

The weathered mechanical nun looks at me with a crooked smile as she slams her weapon down onto me.

Once more she opens her mouth and somehow words spill out of it and I can clearly understand.

“Now pray.”

The doppelganger

Here is the most recent (short horror) story I wrote:)

Word count: 2825

TW: Blood & gore

Vigilantly I take one last look around the house.

Making sure again not to miss any little sound or the movement of someone or something, making sure that there really is only me.

My mother should be at work and my sister at school, double checking really won't hurt me.

If I want to do this ritual, I need to be all alone, or at least I don't want anyone to find out or intrude.

Right... the ritual... I hope it works.

I recently found a strange ritual while surfing around on the internet. Well there are many of those to be found, but this one stuck out to me.

It's a ritual to summon a doppelganger.

I know the dangers that come with it, I know that I probably shouldn't, but in a way I can also not, not do it.

I'm tired, school and work are a pain, all those birthdays of family and family friends have been taking more from me than I'm able to eat cake. So I could definitely use some assistance.

I know that there's a high chance of this ritual being one big hoax, that it won't work at all, but I have to at least give it a try.

If my mom found out she would probably be mad at me, saying things like: "Luna, you're sixteen. You're too old to be believing such nonsense!"

And she's probably right.

As I've finally concluded that I really am alone, I let out a sigh of relief and close my bedroom door.

Quietly I take out the stuff that I have to use from underneath my bed. Thank god no one noticed, I should find better hiding spots for things like this.

It takes me longer than I hoped to set everything in place.

A mirror in the middle huh...

I let the darkness swallow my room, and slowly light every candle.

Yesterday I had already drawn the circle that was meant to be around the mirror and me and it seems to still be there underneath my carpet, still intact luckily.

I'm going to have to clean this before my mom decides to snoop around.

Meaning, ASAP after this ritual is finished.

As I finally finish my preparations I take my place in the circle right before the mirror and say the spell I memorised.

I'm glad I prepared everything far in advance.

After having finished speaking I quietly stare into the dark mirror.

The whole house is silent, but not even that, it's almost as if everyone in this town has decided to hold their breath.

Even the wind has decided to remain silent.

Is it because of what I'm doing right now?

I can't help but secretly smirk.

The dark mirror seems to reflect only the candles back at me, but then it gets strangely dark.

Even so the candles still remain as bright as ever.

I see, so it's time...

I take another step forward and slowly reach for the cold object.

Well, it's not the only freezing object right now, it's as if my entire room is in an ice age right now.

I spot little clouds leaving my mouth every time I breathe out.

The tiny flames of the candles flicker as a cold gust of wind leaves the mirror.

Though the flames quickly fight against the wind and become bigger than before.

I can finally see something inside the mirror.

Something is moving.

I feel a sense of dread, but I try my hardest not to show it outward.

If something goes wrong now, it could be disastrous.

Suddenly something shoots out of the mirror, grabbing at whatever it can hold onto.

Right, if this happens....

I hold the cold and slimy hand coming out of the mirror.

"Good morning." I say, making sure not to let it know my fear: "I'm Luna, you will be my assistant from now on."

The hand is still far from human as it clasps onto me with fingers far too long and thin.

I can't help but shiver from its coldness.

"L-lu...N-na." It says in a voice no human ever would.

I nod slowly: "Yes, that's me... but soon also you."

"Luna." It's voice is mimicking my own, slowly sounding more like mine.

So creepy...

Its monstrous face slowly comes out of my mirror, looking at me with still empty eye-sockets.

I want to scream, but keep myself from doing so.

So close, so close, so close....

By the light of the candles I can see how the monster slowly takes on my form.

It's truly a horrifying thing to witness.

Something taking your form, taking your identity, something that has never been human before.

Still, I feel glad that it works.

I have tasks for this future doppelganger.

A couple of hours later, the thing in my room still isn't really me completely, but the resemblance grows closer by the minute.

I try to teach it my manner of speech and my manner of movement, something it seems to have difficulty with.

Slowly I teach it how to help with the cleaning up of my room as well. I mean, it's part of the reason for summoning it in the first-place.

"Luna, are you home?" I hear my mother call from downstairs.

"Be quiet...!" I hush the monster, hiding it in my closet: "Yes, mom, I'm coming!" I call to my mother.

I rush downstairs to greet her.

She smiles at me.

"I don't feel like cooking tonight, so we're going to order pizza. You wouldn't mind that, right?"

I smile back: "Of course not. I do have a lot of homework though, do you mind if I eat upstairs?"

"Hard at work I see, well then, it's okay. But take it easy, alright?"

I nod and head back upstairs.

Back to my doppelganger.

I try to teach it as much as possible and as the pizza arrives we eat mine together.

After finishing it I go downstairs to bring the empty box.

My mom is sitting in front of the tv with my sister, she turns to me.

"Hey Luna, how's your homework going?"

I smile: "Pretty good, I think I'm almost finished."

I see her face suddenly turning grave: "Luna dear, please be careful whenever you're going out with friends."

I wonder why she's saying something like that: "What do you mean?"

"There's been a murderer going around, that's what the news has been telling just a couple of minutes ago."

"I see., I'll be careful."

"Thank you." My mom smiles and turns back to the TV to continue watching the show they were watching.

The next morning my doppelganger looks the exact same as me and I decide to send it to school. It shouldn't hurt too much, it's a short day, perfect for training to be me. Meanwhile I can do the things I want to do.

Side doppelganger:

On the second day of my existence I'm sent to a place human beings call 'school'. Supposedly it's a place where older humans send their young ones to learn about the world and working in it.

To be honest I seem to be feeling the emotion humans call 'anxiousness', supposedly it's normal for doing something for the first time. Or at least that is what my master has told me.

I've been given a 'phone', a device meant to 'call' other humans and I'm also able to use it to find 'the way' with the help of a 'map'.

How peculiar.

I've memorised all the 'students' Luna has told me about and has shown the pictures of.

Supposedly she doesn't talk that often with others, so I shouldn't try too hard to befriend everyone.

I take the bag given to me with me and make my way towards the building called 'school'.

It doesn't take me long to find it, many people from around my masters age are walking inside one-by-one like ants.

When entering the room I'm supposed to be I'm greeted by her classmates and I greet them back in the way that was taught to me.

After about four hours it's time to go 'home' again, Luna told me that four hours was a short day and 'home' is the place where you live.

I enter the house with the help of a 'key', a small object that can open 'locks'.

"Hi Luna, how was school today?" A lady Luna calls 'mom' greets me.

"Hi mom, it was nice."

She looks up a bit surprised: "Not just okay?"

Was this not what my master normally responds with?

I hesitate for a moment, I have to make it look natural... Yet I wasn't informed how to handle this situation.

"It was nice, I had English literature." When I was summoned yesterday I learned that Luna likes to read, so she probably does not dislike that class too much.

'Mom' laughs: "You look so shocked, I'm just glad to hear that you had a nice day. Did you read something nice?"

I nod and quickly think back to the book we read: "William Wilson." I answer honestly.

"Ah, I didn't know you enjoyed such classics."

"I didn't know either."

She smiles at me, I guess this is a sign that I have to ask something back.

"How was your day?"

'Mom' smiles and tells me about it. Supposedly it's normal for humans to complain about their days, I do not understand why, but I will remember it for future reference.

A couple of days end up going by, almost each one I'm going to school or visiting my masters family.

I feel like I'm doing something wrong, my classmates seem to be getting closer to me. Luna always says that they don't care about her, but it seems like she has been mistaken. I remember their likes and dislikes and talk about it with them, causing me to learn a great deal about them. Something which they seem to appreciate.

Honestly I might even be able to call them what humans call 'nice' or 'kind' even. They show a great deal of care after all.

Luna decided to remain in her room, going out unseen from time to time. Though there are also times when it is my turn to hide and for her to fulfil the role as herself.

I wonder what she does whenever I'm at school or working at her job or even when I'm visiting her family.

I'm able to fool every one of them almost perfectly. Though I do have to be careful, I'm not fully human yet after all. My blood still has to gain the right colour and I have the ability to go through mirrors, but I know I will soon lose it.

One of the longer days at school I talk with some of Luna's... no... I guess it would be better to say 'my' friends. They didn't seem to have spent time with the real Luna after all.

"Luna, what do you think about it?" One of my friends asks.

"What do you mean?" I didn't really follow everything.

"Well y'know. The recent murders."

I look at her: "They do scare me a little."

My friend smiles back at me in a slightly concerned manner: "Me too girl, me too."

"If you want to, I don't mind walking together, we do need to go the same way for a bit after all."

A brighter smile appears on her face: "That would be great!"

In the back of the class I can hear some people whispering about me or about Luna.

"Luna has gotten very sociable recently, hasn't she?"

"Yeah, it's almost as if she's been replaced with a completely different person."

"Well she changed for the better if you ask me. She always seemed way too proud of herself and her little bubble."

I can feel my stomach turn as I hear the word 'replace' leave their lips.

I know I shouldn't let it get to me, but I also need to convince everyone that I'm really Luna.

My friends seem to have noticed the whispering too and that it makes me uncomfortable, so they make their way to those to have a 'stern-talking to' with them. Truly just telling them to shut 'the hell' up and mind their own business.

After school I walk with my friends until our ways split.

When I'm on my own again I suddenly walk into my master.

Shocked, I look at her, she looks angry and starts walking towards me rapidly.

"I told you...!" She whispers threateningly: "We should not be seen together!"

I nod.

"You enter the house first, I will take the window." Luna hisses to me as she finds herself a place to hide.

Obediently I enter the house first, I'm greeted by Luna's sister.

"Hey sis..." She greets me with a sombre look.

"Hey, is something wrong?" I ask in a kind tone I was taught by my friends.

The girl gives me another sad smile: "Yeah, have you seen Nibbles anywhere?" Nibbles is her hamster, or so was I told.

"No I haven't" I shake my head while answering.

"I see... He's still missing, if you find him, please bring him to me."

"I will." I answer, for some reason the look on her face makes me 'sad' too.

The first time I felt that.

Something about this whole thing is wrong.

It's like a little voice in the back of mind is constantly 'nagging' in the back of my mind. Telling me that something is very, very wrong.

I decide to go against my master's wishes and do my research on the ritual that summoned me.

I need to do it in secret, so as not to let her know.

Back at school I start searching on one of the computers about the ritual.

After school, I walk back with my friends again. I begin to fear for their safety, but I try to keep it to myself.

It's getting dark outside and Luna has yet to return.

Against her wishes I use with great difficulty a little of the power left in me to see around what part of this town she could be and sneak out of the house.

It's really dark now, even the moon seems to have hidden itself behind a cloud, fearing for the worst.

Within about half an hour I find myself at the abandoned warehouse.

She really is here... isn't it?

Quietly I slip inside, making sure not to make a peep.

As my eyes get used to the even darker inside of the building, I see something that scares me.

A shadow, my height, my body type, standing above a smaller shadow, someone that seems to be lying down.

The shadow that looks like me, plunges a knife into the body beneath her.

"What the hell?!" I can't help it, I've given away my location.

The shadow turns to me.

There's no mistaking it.

That's Luna.

That's my master, the one who summoned me into this world.

I'm her alibi.

My hunch was right and the horrible memories of my research come back fresh into my mind.

"What did you sacrifice?!" I start yelling, unable to control my own emotions any longer.

Luna just smiles at me, somehow in a way I never believe I myself could. Crooked, horrid. Are some of the words that come to mind.

"It is said that a sacrifice has to be done to complete the ritual! So who or what did you kill?!" I continue my rant.

The shadow lying on the floor has long stopped moving.

I have to let someone know what's going on! But how?!

Without putting any real thought into it, I decide to throw the object known as 'phone' towards the shadow that I look like.

Luna avoids it without problem.

"That, dear doppelganger, was the last thing you should have thrown away in this situation."

Just what does she mean with that?

Luna continues: "And they said that you would be the 'perfect' doppelganger. Bullshit. You are just getting in my way. You were summoned to serve me and only me. How come that you decided to make your own decisions?"

Her speech is quiet, yet threatening, somehow making my body turn cold.

Right, if I were to find a mirror... I look around, scanning my surroundings quickly.

As if reading my mind, Luna laughs: "There are no mirrors in this building."

She's almost within arm's reach, so I swiftly take a couple of steps back, bumping with my back into a wall I didn't know was there.

Suddenly her face changes from smiling to one of hatred and she slashes her knife into my shoulder.

I scream in pain, but am able to get further away from her.

I press my hand against my wound.

Running for my life, I find myself cornered again.

"I know this place better than you." Luna says in her threatening tone.

She pushes me down without problem.

She's clearly used to killing people for a long time now, yet I've never even come close to learning about it. Not that I would want to.

I look at my hand that was pressing the wound.

My blood slowly starts to turn red.

I've lost my powers.

I'm now completely human.

There couldn't be a worse time.

The one whose likeness I am to represent bows down before me: "Don't worry, to summon you I didn't kill a human. Animals work pretty well too, they leave less of a mess."

Her bloodstained blade glittering in the little light entering the building.

My body has started trembling uncontrollably.

What was this emotion again?

Fear?

My master readies herself and then slashes me one last time.

The last thing I say is something I don't have any control over.

"Please..." I mutter: "I don't want to die..."

And then the blade plunges itself into my body, spraying red all over the room.

It hurts and yet I don't feel anything.

It's all going too fast.

Finally the place turns dark.

Plastic mannequin city

A short horror story I wrote a while ago:)

Word count: 849

TW: Blood, insanity, body horror

As artificial light enters the shop, I start to get ready for the people who will be visiting soon.

I hang the new clothes on the plastic hangers on which they're supposed to be and clean in and around the store. Most of the clothes here are made of polyester, nylon or acrylic.

"We will open soon." I hear my colleague whisper in my ear.

I nod in response and help out with putting out the plastic signs.

As the store slowly starts to get flooded with customers I take my place behind the counter and finish some more chores before someone comes to me to buy something.

After a good few minutes some come to pay for the clothes they deem fit to their bodies.

"Do you want to pay with card?" I ask.

"Do you need a bag with it?" I ask after.

"Do you want the receipt?"

Some of them don't like the questions and get annoyed, asking me not to ask them. Unfortunately my memory isn't good enough to remember who asked who. After a long time, their grey faces have become nothing but a blur in my dreams.

They all look the same after all.

The faces of mannequins are difficult to remember after all...

Every time I scan something the cash register makes an annoying bleep, one that keeps getting more and more annoyed the longer the day continues on, making me thankful for the mask I wear.

A client thinks I'm doing my job wrong and swears at me. I've been working here for a while now, so compliments are hard to come by.

I have a few colleagues who do get many, they look a lot like the customers, other colleagues usually leave soon after starting.

I wonder how long I can hold out...

A couple of hours later I swap places and start working more throughout the store, it's a big one, but I will manage.

I have to...

Customers with their plastic grey faces come to me for questions now.

With their long thin bodies they ask me how much something is, if we have something in another size or even if something makes them look fat.

That last one always surprises me, their plastic bodies all look the same.

They're taller than me.

They're tinner than me.

They're much more beautiful than me.

Is this their way of calling me out?

Do they like asking me these questions in order to mess with me?

I've had enough of that by my colleagues already.

I get sent to the storage room.

Did I do something wrong?

Did I make a mistake I didn't know of?

Or is there something that really needs to be done there?

Please just let it be that!

I turn on the light, it's one for a rather big storage. Unlike everything outside, this light is powered by gas and it's old, very old.

The shadows this light creates always scare me a bit.

The shadows look almost like the mannequins outside.

They look down on me condescendingly.

They judge me.

Their glares are so cold they send me shivering.

I start unpacking boxes, one after one, I do it as perfectly as possible.

I don't want to lose this job.

Suddenly the knife I'm holding for the boxes glides into my hand.

I wince out of pain and am just able to stop myself from cursing.

Thick, dark red drips onto the ground, staining the white plastic floor with the fluid.

A dark thought enters my mind: Perhaps in order to overcome my fear, I should become it.

I look down on my quivering hands.

Could I replace them to become like them?

Could I replace my skin and have a plastic layer instead?

To have no eyes, no nose and no mouth.

To be perfect, just like them.

Would it hurt or bite as the hot plastic would creep up my fleshy arms and legs.

Would I feel pain at all after the procedure and be perfect?

Would I be able to join them after it and be able to get just as many compliments and love?

But then again in all truth, I don't like their perfection.

Their perfection is one of arrogance.

In fact, I think I might even hate it.

I've tried so hard to become like them for such a long time.

I wear a mask to have my face look like them, I skip my lunches in order to become thinner like them.

But all of it...

All of it is for nothing.

It doesn't matter how hard I work, no one will ever accept me.

No one will ever care.

I shouldn't become like them to overcome my fear, I should become something far worse.

Something only I can be, something they can never be.

The floor beneath my feet seems cracked all of a sudden, cracked on the place on which I am standing.

The Gaslamp flickers approvingly, like it tells me to do what I want to do.

I don't remember the last time someone or something said something nice to me or even approved of an idea of mine.

But this lamp, the only real one in this entire building does.

I drop the mask and it shatters into a thousand pieces.

I love the noise it makes as it hits the ground.

Will they make that noise too?

I look down to the object in my hand.

I wonder what color they would bleed.