The Halloween competition failed to quench my thirst for blood and some real-life events inspired this story. Horror normally freaks me out so I tried to put a humorous twist on it. I hope you like.
Have you ever had a nightmare when something happens to your sleeping, unconscious body in the physical world and your mind weaves the experience into your nightmare, making them the most realistic, terrifying, disturbing dreams ever? I had a few in my teenage years, and there are two in particular that I remember very vividly.
The first one took place when I was around twelve, when my pet rat escaped from his cage one night and decided to waltz across my snoring face, which my brain transformed into a horrible monster clawing at my face trying to rip my skin off. The blood-chilling scream escaping my lungs instantly sliced through realms, shattering the dark silence of my room; it seemed to ripple on the walls, waking the whole house. I'll never forget my mum's face as she stood in the door in her bright yellow nightdress. Her lips were enquiring whether I was ok, but her exhausted, weary eyes were asking, 'What the fuck just happened?'
It was the last time I ever owned any kind of rodent.
The second one happened when I was about fourteen, at a summer camp where we slept in log cabins in the middle of a dense forest. The windows were very low, and because of the summer heat they were only covered with insect screens. I think a fox or possibly a cat was scratching the net and, in my dream,, I was trapped in a building with a giant Cerberus-dog-type monster trying to get in. When it was about to rip through the window I gave out one of those deafening, blood chilling screams and it seemed to go on in a loop right until one of the teachers came in and shook me awake. Apparently I woke half the camp and people were still talking about it days later. I felt really awkward for the rest of the week and wished the earth had swallow me.
Luckily I haven't had any similar dreams since. At least, not until now.
In my dream we are in a devastated, post apocalyptic world and some sort of chemical-acid rain falls from the troubled skies. I'm running for shelter but the drops hit me and burn excruciatingly painful blisters onto my cheeks and arms. I howl with agony, and this thankfully wakes me. I spring up in bed like a jack in the box.
"Fuck. That felt so real!" I mutter into the darkness, as I rub my arms trying to smooth my still prickled skin back into a calmer state; I notice how damp my skin feels and instead of feeling relieved that the acid rain was just a dream, that realisation suddenly plunges me back into another kind of terror - because it is real. There is something on my skin -- some sort of thick, sticky liquid. I try to reach for the night lamp in vain as the shivers running through my veins render me frozen on my bed. Somehow, finally breaking my ice shell I manage to flick onawake the faint the light on my bedside table, my eyes adjusting to its feeble glow.
My flowery white bedding is covered with red spots; looking up I see that the red liquid is seeping down from the light fitting on the ceiling, trailing down the purple lampshade. In the dim light that permeates the room, realization hits me like a sledgehammer.
Oh my fucking god, it's blood!
Time slows down and it seems as if I'm hearing things from underwater. My heart is replaced with a heavy rock and I'm pretty sure it just stopped beating. As if fighting for air, I draw in a quick, heavy breath and force myself to think straight.
My ever so logical and realistic brain chimes in on an annoyingly patronising voice;
there is a perfectly fine explanation for this. It be anything.
Like what? Fucking ketchup?
, the snarky me replies.
You think the guy upstairs was having dinner and spilled some ketchup? It IS fucking blood!
While those two are having a heated argument, I see my hand being raised to my face and I stare at the red drops on my naked arm. Involuntarily I dip a finger into it then sniff the substance.
Do you want to lick it too?
Snarky ass attempts a joke.
It can be rusty water from the bathtub or something similar
,. The smart ass voice scorns.
It is fucking blood
.
We should call the police.
You know you've got a big problem when your voices refer to you as 'we'.
Ohh and what if it turns out to be something ridiculous like red paint?
I often have conversations in my head. Doesn't everyone? But they've never been this extremely loud and arrogant - and at the same time neither have control of my body. Something else does. I find myself getting dressed and head for the door as if it was completely acceptable or wise to investigate such a thing at twenty-seven minutes past midnight.
I'm not a great fan of the horror genre, but even I know that the ones doing something this stupid often meet a grizzly end.
Call the fucking police!
Snarky tries to stop me before I shut the door behind me. I'm watching the events from the outside like a movie, as I have no control over my body. The conversation keeps running in my head and there are a million reasons why I should stay the fuck away and not climb those stairs to the third floor... and yet that is exactly what I find myself doing.
One of the voices tells me that once I reach the floor, I will just look at the closed door and turn back because it's not like I can just knock on a stranger's door at this hour, but as I reach the top of the stairs I find the door of 4/B ajar. Soft music is seeping out.
"Hello?" I call out hesitantly, sticking my head through the door.
It is real life. Grow up. There's nothing out of the ordinary
here.
When there's no reply I enter on unsteady feet. The soft disco music is louder, other than that, I hear nothing else. I walk towards the source of music which seems to be the bedroom. The flat obviously has the same layout as mine.
Now I seem to hear a low moaning sound. Maybe someone is in trouble. I've read somewhere a few weeks ago that a guy fell face down into a glass cutting his face and eyes and he had to use Siri on his phone to call for help as he was temporarily blinded. Maybe something like that happened here. Heartened by that thought of possibly saving someone's life, I step into the cream carpeted bedroom.
The sight I walk in on seems like a couple just doing the deed: a guy on his back in the middle of the bed, a black-haired girl straddling him, hunched over his body with her back towards me. She has a black vest top on but apart from that, they are both naked. I'm backing out when I notice the pool of blood staining the pastel carpet. I draw in a gasp of air and try to turn and flee but the girl turns towards me and the next thing I know she is standing in front of me, blocking my way out, pushing the door shut with her shapely ass. Oddly she's now wearing a pair of skin-tight, black leather pants with half a dozen zippers and pockets.
Oh my god, those thighs!
