A Waing Nightmare

This is an entry for Literotica's 2015 Halloween Story Contest. It's something a little strange, but give her a spin. Don't forget to vote and check out other entries in the contest.

Oh. And remember... reading in the dark is so much better, don't ya' think?

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You aren't sure what wakes you. It takes a moment to even realize you were asleep. Blinking, you allow your eyes to adjust. Just as soon, you let your eyes close again. A few more minutes won't hurt. There's no light against your eyelids. It isn't time to get up anyway. Your hand sweeps in an arc as you search for the covers.

There are no covers. You feel only grass.

Your eyes open wide and you sit up straight. There's an ache in your neck that you can't quite rub out. It still hasn't really hit you yet. You turn and examine your surroundings. What you find makes you just stare in shock.

You're outside.

Why? Why in the world are you outside? You remember going to bed, laying down and letting the day just melt off... right? You rub your eyes and try to put it all together in your head. You find only more confusion, that haze that shrouds the brain and consumes all memory.

Your house is right in front of you. It's still dark outside. So what is it then... sleepwalking? It seems absurd even as you think of the word. You've never had that problem. Well, not that anyone has spoken of.

Either way, you feel ridiculous sitting on the ground in the middle of the night. Biting back a groan, you climb to your feet. You spread your arms wide, then up to the heavens. Every ache in every limb seems to drain away. You study the sky. It's dark, but there's no stars. Must be cloud cover. It feels like rain anyway. You wonder what time it is.

Your hand goes to your side. It makes you pause when you realize your phone isn't there. Patting your empty pockets, you also notice that you must have fallen asleep in your regular clothes. You shake your head. What the hell happened last night? Did you drink? You know that you indulge every now and then but... there's no way you were "blackout" drunk. Still, as you survey your surroundings, you can't remember the night before.

Truthfully... you can't remember anything at all.

It's at that moment you fully recognize that something is wrong. You look around. There's cars in the driveway. Was it a party? No, there couldn't have been. You would have remembered by now. You don't hear a thing: no traffic, no crickets, no nightlife... nothing at all.

Slowly, you start making your way toward your house. Your head is still swimming as you try to figure out what this odd feeling is. It's strange enough waking up in the front yard, but things seem even stranger somehow.

"What is going on?" You ask aloud to yourself.

Even your voice sounds peculiar. You start to head toward your front door again. The house seems to stare back at you, with huge empty glass eyes. Your steps slow. Why does it look so run down? The house itself just has such a lonely feel to it.

The door is open.

You stop. The door isn't cracked. It isn't ajar. The front door is standing wide open. Already your heart starts to gallop. Questions bounce through your brain faster than you can answer them. Why would the door be open? Is someone inside? Why does everything seem out of place?

Taking a breath, you calm yourself and start to think. Maybe you did sleepwalk. That would explain why the door is wide open. The thought even makes you grin. You feel stupid. Is this really happening? It would make for a funny story if you did drink so much you passed out on the lawn. You near the first step as you begin walking.

The door creaks. It closes halfway. A shape moves behind it in the dark.

Every hair on your body stands on end. Something is not right. Someone's in there. You take a few steps back. Deep within you is anger, the outrage and annoyance that someone is in your house. You want to charge in and demand the intruders to show themselves.

All of those emotions are buried deep. Things are already so strange. You can't fight the ominous feeling emanating from that doorway. The glass eyes just keep watching you, waiting for your next move. There must be a logical reason. There's no sense in thinking the worst, right? Maybe you had friends over. Maybe you did get a little drunk or something.

Then why the bad vibes?

Turning around, you decide maybe to go to the neighbor's house. If nothing else, you could use a phone. Better safe than sorry. They'd probably be upset if you woke them up, but if someone....

The houses are gone.

For several seconds you don't even breathe. There's no houses on the street. What the hell? There's no neighbors. All of the structures are just absent. Just a field of grass for as far as you can see. Rubbing your eyes, you squint into the distance. That darkness reaching up at the horizon, that must be the trees. Weren't they closer? Or further?

A dream.

Of course it is. Everything seems so out of focus. Nothing quite fits together in any way that makes sense. It must be a dream. The realization makes you smile. You even get that oh so cliché idea to pinch yourself, but shake your head and turn back toward the house.

The sky is pure black. There's no moon or stars. Everything in the distance is a blur. The house even seems to sit in a peculiar way, like it's slumping over from some sort of exhaustion. You can't see the road. You are all alone standing before your house... a house... is it even yours?

It has to be a dream. You don't recall any dream as vivid and real as this, but it's the only explanation. Staring down at your hands, you wonder if you are this self aware in every dream you have. You shrug. When you truly wake up, it will probably fade just like any other.

There's not much to do except go into the house. Looking at the door, you grow uncertain. If this is a dream, what was it that moved behind that front door? You feel the hard beat of your heart in your chest. What else is there to do?

As you cross the yard, the mouth of the door draws closer to you. The glass eyes look on indifferently. The rocking chairs sway to a wind that does not exist. You study them as you step onto the porch. This isn't your house. You don't remember rocking chairs. You don't recognize those vehicles, and you're sure you don't drive any of them. You think. You shake your head and reach for the door.

Stepping just inside the threshold, you pause and listen. The house seems dead. There's no light and no noise. You close the door behind you, mostly from habit. Ahead is a dark hallway beside a rising staircase. An open doorway is ahead to your left. Another one is directly to your right.

You shake your head. "This isn't my place," you mutter to no one.

Then, what is this place? You distantly wonder what you must have fell asleep watching to spin up such a dream. You find the light switch and give it a flip. Nothing. No lights come on, not inside nor out. Nothing seems as ominous as it was when you stood outside. The house just seems cozy and asleep. You feel like if you made too much noise you'd wake the residents, yet something gives you the impression that you're alone in the house.

"Hello?" You call out.

Immediately you scoff. How generic. Why wouldn't you call out to a dark house? Isn't that what they all do on TV? You smile and take a few steps down the hallway. It's pretty gloomy, but you can see the decorations and the pictures on the wall. It looks like a home. A child's coat is on the floor. An old stain can still be seen near the baseboards.

Moving slowly, you examine the pictures framed on the wall. There's a picture of the family at the beach, the wind blowing their hair. Another one depicts a family portrait, professionally captured. Another shows a young child pretending to "lift" a Ferris wheel in the background. You can't help but smile. Each picture tells a piece of the story. You squint through the dark at the people in the pictures. Maybe there's someone you might recognize.

You pause by one family portrait sitting on a small table. Taking the frame, you hold it closer to your face in the dark.

Their faces are blank.

"What?" You whisper.

You study the image carefully. The woman's hair is styled. Her necklace matches her earrings. The man has his arm draped over her shoulder. A young child is in their arms. Another adolescent stands at their side. But there are no faces. You blink hard, wondering if it's your eyes, or if it's just too dark. Pale blurs remain in place of expressions. You can't tell if they've been scraped away or if they are just faded for some reason. They are just gone.

"Weird," you mutter.

Where is everyone? Where's this family? Why are you dreaming about strolling through a random house?

You replace the picture on the small table. It is a dream, after all. Nothing ever seems to make sense. You don't even realize that you've already walked to the end of the hall and into the kitchen. Everything seems to be in order. There's no dishes in the sink, no plates lying about on countertops, no mess on the bar. There is no table, only a large center island.

You jump at the sound of the loud thump. In the quiet dark of the house, it's enough to send your heart scampering into your throat. Whirling toward the hall, you can still hear scuffling. You blink, wondering if you should peek back into the hall. The sounds continue. The thought crosses your mind to head for the back door. Glass shatters somewhere in that hall. You realize that you're holding your breath.

Just then, you hear... voices? You hear people. It isn't their voices exactly, but their breath, a word uttered here and there, a pause, a low groan....

Glancing around, you ease toward the hallway again. Peering around the corner toward the front door that you came through, you see a scuffle of motion. You almost jerk back into the kitchen... but they don't see you. They don't even notice.

There's two of them, a man and a woman. You jump again at the sound of glass breaking when a picture falls from the wall. Immediately you understand. The man shoves the smaller woman flat against the wall. Without hesitation, he lunges, pressing his face to hers. Their bodies join as they claw at each other desperately. You hear the gasp of breath, a sigh of utter relief, and the moan of enjoyment.

Squinting, you try to get a better look. You can't see much detail in the dark. Her arms encircle the man's neck. She's shoving him downward, and his head wanders down her neck to the tops of her breasts. Their movements are quick, hungry, and desperate. You hear a belt, then a zipper, and a chuckle.

They disappear into a doorway. The sounds persist. Where... the living room? Your gaze follows the sounds to the archway beside you in the kitchen. The room beyond that door is glowing with dim yellow light. There's a brief moment of hesitation. All you can do is stand there in shock and listen. Their voices are hushed. Your heartbeat is louder than anything. Your eyes are trained on that archway.

The woman moans, loud enough to fill the whole house. She is quickly shushed by her partner, at which point you hear a giggle. You cannot help yourself. Taking slow, soundless steps, you ease across the tile toward the door of the living room. The couple doesn't know you are here, or at least they didn't seem to.

You briefly consider the sliding glass door at the rear of the kitchen. Your impulse is to leave before you are discovered. It's a strange house, and though it's a dream, you are the intruder. Vulnerability seems to coat your skin, and yet... those sounds! The distinct ripping of fabric makes you pause. The woman groans and gasps. The pull of your own curiosity builds with each passing second, never mind that pleasant warmth of arousal you feel.

Before you even realize it, you're peeking around the corner into the living room. A lamp was turned on. The lampshade is tilted as though it were knocked aside. You spot the couple on the couch. It alarms you to see that the woman is practically naked already. Her clothes are strewn about the floor, including the torn black panties.

She's straddling the man sitting on the couch. The sight is so alluring, so incredibly unabashed. Your eyes wander up the woman's bare back as she slithers about in the mans lap. Her every curve is shadowed by the lamp light, drawing your eye to every highlight and every dark tempting line.

Weathered hands clutch the ample flesh of her hips. Long toned arms cradle the woman close. Much of the man is hidden from you, but you can see that he's tall. His tan body is the perfect contrast to hers, and the two of them move in harmony together. Delicate legs slide over thick sturdy thighs.

It isn't so much their nudity that locks your gaze to the couple. No, it's the way they move. The tall man can't pull her in close enough, he can't find a place on that pale skin to let his greedy hands rest. It's like he's afraid to lose the sensation of her skin. The woman gasps and moans, rocking her hips forward into his lap. She gropes at his neck, and the shudder that hits her body is like she channels some sort of orgasmic energy right from the touch.

You give a brief glance behind you, but you can't look away. Already you feel your breath diving deeper and fuller. A feeling stirs inside you. You might as well be right beside that couple, watching her breasts bounce against the man's hard chest. Your eyes can't seem to stay away from the woman's round ass, where you see that hard shaft driving upward. The man's every desperate thrust send ripples across the flesh of her cheeks. Hard flesh and smooth skin collide again and again. Their grunts and groans grow increasingly louder.

Something in the very air around you feels like it's building. You know what must be coming. The couple's movements grow more frantic. Her body bounces wildly on the man's. He squeezes tighter and jerks her onto his shaft over and over. Your mouth is getting moist. Just watching the scene makes you feel like you're sweating all over. You have to see it. You know the moment is coming. The lamp even seems to glow brighter. You shift from foot to foot and squeeze your trembling hands into fists.

The woman is screaming now. You know she's close and it's driving you nuts. The man's knuckles are white. At any moment they could explode. Your own mind is racing. Should you leave now before they see you? Or after? How is this dream this incredible, this raw and vivid? You don't care. Tension takes a strong hold of you. You've gotta see this. It's just too steamy.

Everything stops.

The couple on the couch freezes. What was wild and deafening becomes still. You watch unmoving from your place at the door. You don't even breathe. Minute after minute seems to pass. All you can hear is the pounding of your own pulse.

They aren't moving. The woman is still sitting naked in the man's lap. The man's hands still rest atop her ample cheeks. You can't hear them breathing. You don't see their bodies shifting at all. You ease back a few inches from the door. The couple just stares straight ahead at one another. Your mind starts racing. Did they see you? Or hear you? Why are the just sitting there? What happened? Is this apart of something weird in the dream?

The lamp flickers. Shadows blink on and off in the living room. Something sinks inside you. The scene suddenly looks odd... and unsettling.

Your eyes widen as you watch the couple move in perfect synchronization. Both of their heads swivel very slowly. A sense of alarm and dread blazes across your skin when you realize they are turning to look at you. The lamp behind them is still flashing. Frozen in shock, you at last see the features of the lovers as their gazes fix upon the door where you stand.

Their faces are blank.

You gasp and stumble back from the door. God, their faces! There are no eyes, no lips, no noses! Only expressionless skin glares your way. You remember the pictures in the hall. These aren't pictures though. The man and woman are faceless!

Just as your mind is trying to react, a sound begins to lift in the air. The tone is low, but builds and builds and builds until an ear splitting wail fills the house. It's louder than an air raid siren. Grimacing, you cover your ears. You notice the light no longer blinks, but starts to shine brighter and brighter. It's then that you see those gaunt faces of the lovers on the couch again... and they have changed. Both the man and the woman now have large slits across the bottom of their visage... a... a mouth? The holes gape open too wide, their jaws stretching impossibly low. They stare blankly. The siren scream that fills the air seems to blast forth from the black mouths of the lovers.

The bulb in the lamp bursts just as you turn to flee. You don't know where the hell you're going, but you're getting away from that living room and those... those people. That awful sound... or, or scream... whatever it is drowns out all thought and all sanity. The sliding glass doors. Immediately you make for the back door of the kitchen. You can't wait to get out of this house. You reach for the handle of the sliding door.

Glass shatters and your ears ring painfully as the door explodes inward. You scream in surprise and fall back from the door. Shards of glass are everywhere. The curtains billow outward overhead. Scrambling backward across the tile, you stare fearfully at the shattered doors.

All is immediately silent again. Breathing hard, you look around. The living room behind you is dark. No one is there. The siren scream is gone. You are alone, gasping on the tile floor. You scan the back door, wondering what in the world destroyed the glass. After a moment, nothing has happened. You climb to your feet, your eyes fixated on the door.

A figure steps into view. You stop. It's a person just outside the back door. For a moment you are stuck, caught between reflexes. Your brain is locked in a maelstrom of thought and emotion. The figure sways as if drunk, then turns toward the broken door. It's a tall body, looming into the door with dangling arms. You are already backing away, but your eyes won't turn. You're trying to make sense of the damned thing. The head is too misshapen, twisted and bloated. One of the legs bends the wrong way. As it steps through the threshold of shattered glass, a shard from the door slices its midsection and tears flesh away. The person hardly notices. It moves through the door regardless.

You're already dashing into the hallway. For a half second you hesitate. Your mouth gapes open as you stare down the hundred of feet that the hallway has become. This... this was not like this moments ago. What the hell is going on?

Frantically you glance into the kitchen. A dark shape still sways aimlessly. You dare not even think about a scramble to the back door. Not with... not with that in there. You're half trotting before you even consciously make the decision. No matter how hard you squint through the dark, the hallway appears no shorter. Voices begin to echo all around: gentle sobbing, distorted cries for help, angry screams of rage... all of it grows louder the further down the hall you run.

"It's a dream," you say aloud. "It's a stupid damn dream!"

But your head is on a swivel. You look for that tall lumbering thing behind. You search for any source of the voices, but they seem to slide out of the air right in front of you. Scanning the pictures on the wall, you see more and more of those faceless family portraits. They were small before... they keep getting bigger. You realize that the faces are turning to watch you run. That woman's head turns. Those two children's heads turn. That man. That family. All of the faceless turn to watch you go.