Darkness Comes
Through The Darkness
Wandering down the empty street, I shivered inwardly, tightening my grip on the thick cotton cardigan wrapped around my body, staring at the gloomy night sky in a thoughtless trance. It was a warm evening, considering it was the middle of the winter, and stars twinkled in the moonless sky like diamonds, their bright lights illuminating the rocky trail in the way that streetlamps never would. My eyes wandered over the thick black curtain overhead, as a slight breeze embraced me like a lover. I was out in the middle of the countryside. Alone.
Turning a corner, I found myself facing a wrought iron gate that was a covered in mould, rust, and cobwebs with dirt and dust captured in the slyly twisting threads. I peered at it in wonder, marvelling over how I hadn’t noticed it as I trawled down the glum country road. Strange patterns were twined through the metal fence, and it was tipped with spikes that had long forgotten how to look menacing to passer-bys. I softly grabbed hold of one of the spears, using it to support myself as I staggered onto my tiptoes to see what lingered within the confines of the gate.
“Little late for you to be out alone, isn’t it?” questioned a tainted voice from the thick darkness behind me. I widened my eyes as shivers tangoed up my spine, and tensed my grip on the fence. “And I thought you mortals had a flicker of intelligence. Clearly I was,” I felt a pair of sharp eyes fix upon my exposed back, “mistaken.” My heart began pounding furiously within my chest as the voice floated towards me, almost like a breeze fluttering through the air, the nonchalance that cloaked the voice turning my limbs to lead.
My grip on the gate began to slip as my palms oozed with nervous sweat.
“Who’s there?” I questioned, not daring to turn around. Soft footsteps, no louder than a fairy’s, sounded as deafening in my head as an elephants cry, as they pounded over the damp earth underfoot, slowly dancing towards my frozen body glued to the fence of the graveyard. I could just about see, now, that that was what it was: crumbling tombs littered the field ahead like ants in a desert.
“Your worst nightmare,” was the curt reply. My breathing became shallow as air entered through my nostrils and swiftly exited through my mouth without a chance to digest it, and my brain reeled with unanswerable questions. They were weaving through my head so quickly that my brain was overflowing, making me dizzy, senseless. Was this some kind of trick, some sort of gimmicky joke? A prank that my bald and irritating uncle was trying to play on me? Well if it was, it wasn’t funny.
I sensed whoever it was behind me step closer and closer, his feet padding over the layers of leaves on the ground, his shoes crunching down on twigs, stones. His breath wafted over the back of my neck, caused goosebumps to pop up over my entire body, my pupils to dilate in panic, my fingers to reluctantly release their grasp on the fence.
“Whatever you do, don’t scream,” he whispered, his voice a cold breeze on the tip of my shoulder. My lungs began to ache as I realised I’d stopped breathing, my body overcome with fear. His frosty hands wound round my throat, snakelike.
Darkness overcame me.
Turning a corner, I found myself facing a wrought iron gate that was a covered in mould, rust, and cobwebs with dirt and dust captured in the slyly twisting threads. I peered at it in wonder, marvelling over how I hadn’t noticed it as I trawled down the glum country road. Strange patterns were twined through the metal fence, and it was tipped with spikes that had long forgotten how to look menacing to passer-bys. I softly grabbed hold of one of the spears, using it to support myself as I staggered onto my tiptoes to see what lingered within the confines of the gate.
“Little late for you to be out alone, isn’t it?” questioned a tainted voice from the thick darkness behind me. I widened my eyes as shivers tangoed up my spine, and tensed my grip on the fence. “And I thought you mortals had a flicker of intelligence. Clearly I was,” I felt a pair of sharp eyes fix upon my exposed back, “mistaken.” My heart began pounding furiously within my chest as the voice floated towards me, almost like a breeze fluttering through the air, the nonchalance that cloaked the voice turning my limbs to lead.
My grip on the gate began to slip as my palms oozed with nervous sweat.
“Who’s there?” I questioned, not daring to turn around. Soft footsteps, no louder than a fairy’s, sounded as deafening in my head as an elephants cry, as they pounded over the damp earth underfoot, slowly dancing towards my frozen body glued to the fence of the graveyard. I could just about see, now, that that was what it was: crumbling tombs littered the field ahead like ants in a desert.
“Your worst nightmare,” was the curt reply. My breathing became shallow as air entered through my nostrils and swiftly exited through my mouth without a chance to digest it, and my brain reeled with unanswerable questions. They were weaving through my head so quickly that my brain was overflowing, making me dizzy, senseless. Was this some kind of trick, some sort of gimmicky joke? A prank that my bald and irritating uncle was trying to play on me? Well if it was, it wasn’t funny.
I sensed whoever it was behind me step closer and closer, his feet padding over the layers of leaves on the ground, his shoes crunching down on twigs, stones. His breath wafted over the back of my neck, caused goosebumps to pop up over my entire body, my pupils to dilate in panic, my fingers to reluctantly release their grasp on the fence.
“Whatever you do, don’t scream,” he whispered, his voice a cold breeze on the tip of my shoulder. My lungs began to ache as I realised I’d stopped breathing, my body overcome with fear. His frosty hands wound round my throat, snakelike.
Darkness overcame me.