I've been lying down for hours now. It's 5:35AM and there's not much I can do. You know what the worst part about my situation is? I'm in the same room as my parents. They keep looking at me, and I can't help but look back and try not to cry or scream. Their eyes are focused on me and their mouths are wide open. There's a strong scent of blood and I feel paralyzed with fear.Here's the thing. The second I make any hint that I'm not asleep anymore, I'm completely screwed. I will die and there's nobody around to save me. I've been trying to think of a way out but the only idea I have is to rush for the front door and scream for help, hoping any neighbors hear me. It's risky, but if I stay here, I'll surely die. He's waiting for me to wake up and see his masterpiece.You're probably wondering what's going on. I do get ahead of myself sometimes.About three hours ago, I heard screaming from the other side of the house. I got up and went to check on the noise before realizing I had to use the restroom. Instead of doing the smart thing and investingating, I used that bathroom. There was blood on the carpet. I got very worried and ran back to my room, hiding under the sheets like the coward I was. I tried to convince myself to go back to sleep, that it was just some really vivid dream or something.But I heard my bedroom door open. Like the terrified child I was, I peeked out from under my blankets to see what was going on. I could see something dragging my dead parents into the room. It was not human, I can tell you that. It was hairless, with no eyes and no clothing. It walked like a caveman, with its back slouched as it dragged my parents. But this thing was much smarter then any caveman. It was aware of what it was doing.It propped my Dad up on the edge of my bed, and made him face me. It then sat my mother down in the chair and positioned her towards me as well. It then started rubbing its hands on the walls, staining them with blood and then drew a circle with the devil's pentagram in it. This thing had made what it would probably call a masterpiece. To finish it off, it scribbled a message into the wall that I could not read in the darkness.It then positioned itself under my bed waiting to strike.The scariest thing is now, my eyes have adjusted to the darkness since then and I can read the message on the wall. I don't want to look at it, because it's terrifying to think about it. But I feel I need to see, before I'm killed.I peek at the creature's masterpiece."I know you're awake."

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Mouth open wide "What will happen next?" Yes yes yes YES!! I LOVE THIS. There's this place called DeviantART and you should post your stories there. Its so great.

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Thank you =3 my next one will be up soon

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Great story! Keep writing! ^-^

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I wanna be awake by then. Must. Keep. Eyes. Open

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I hate the filter

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"BoringBobbie" wrote:

I wanna be awake by then. Must. Keep. Eyes. Open

LOL

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"realKnuckles" wrote:

I hate the filter

You're not alone. Me too.

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I'll just post it here - For such a turning point in my life, the night I acquired a certain item is cemented in my mind only because of how mundane it was. I didn’t chance upon a dusty tome buried amidst a pile of mouldering books in a university library nor did I chance upon a madman with a basket of trinkets in a Bangladeshi backstreet. I was sat in my underwear, lit only by a dull blue glow from my computer monitor, browsing eBay for nothing in particular.The music in my ears fluctuated again, the soulful notes of Toxic by Britney Spears being ebbed away, replaced by a strange yet familiar concoction of static and oppressive silence. I rolled my eyes and removed my headphones, tapping them against my palm while muttering half-formed sentences expressing my distain for ever purchasing them. After a few minutes of tapping refused to exorcise the demons in my earpieces, I began to browse for a replacement. I then, on that most unassuming of nights, stumbled upon a posting that would have irrevocable implications for me.“Wireless Headphones. Unwanted present, only used once. Bought as a gift for my nephew. Only used once, given back to me “Because of the talking in them” Guaranteed good condition, no point letting them go to waste because of an overactive imagination”.The auction seemed like an amazing deal, only an hour or so left, a fraction of the retail price, paid delivery. I placed a bid and took myself to bed, trusting the late hour to protect me from having my new trinket stolen from me. As it happened, I was right and they arrived a few days later.That was when things began to happen. As I connected them to my pc, I could feel a strange heaviness to the air, like the charge in the air before a thunderstorm. I dismissed it easily enough; I thought it was simply a symptom of the muggy summer air.An hour or so later, permitting the things to accrue a decent amount of charge, I placed them on my head, and flicked the power switch. I was surprised to find, however, that there was no background static. There was a deep silence. Childish as the notion seemed at the time, it felt just like the silence of a tomb. There was also the hint of another sound, the raspy hiss of a whisper on the edge of hearing. I cast it from my mind and tested the sound quality by playing a classical piece, the finale to swan lake. To my eternal shame I felt a flutter of relief as the beautiful notes of Tchaikovsky’s ballet cut through the silence. After a few minutes, however, I was pulled away from the reports I was busying myself with as I heard a familiar buzz of static in my ear, only now with a disturbing new sound mixed in.Voices. Maybe hundreds, all talking at once in a hoarse, drawn out whisper. Some were too fast to comprehend, others too slow. Some were in different languages, some in long-dead tongues of syllables unpronounceable. I broke out in a sweat, eyes wide. I was the subject of these voices, the understandable ones at least. They spoke of my choice of music, the cut of my new clothes, the reports strewn across my desk. One voice cut through the throng however, a dirty sounding diseased rasp. It said only one thing, but it was enough to make the hairs on the back of my neck rise and my heart pound. It said, merely;“It’s noticed us,”I threw the headphones from my head and tore from the room. As I did, I heard a burst of oppressive, heavy noise burst from the headphones, a terrifying mix of an air-raid siren and the static screech of an unturned radio.It was at this point I decided I needed to be out of the house. I bolted down the stairs, leaping the last few. As I fought with the tangle of keys that resided on the small table by my living room door, I heard another sound, or more accurately a lack of it. An oppressive, murky silence had overtook the whole house. Behind me I heard a rising hum as the TV turned itself on, bathing the room in shifting shadows. From the static on the screen the head and shoulders of a man resolved. With a sickening sound of papers and flesh tearing an arm burst forth, implanting a shifting grey and white hand upon the ground with a curiously wet smack. Then the other came through with an equally sickening herald. The figure then began to flail itself forward and back, battering its head against the inside of the screen until it burst through with a sound akin a coconut being hit by a truck. Thus freed, it’s upper half flopped pathetically onto the floor, pulling the remainder of its body through with a series of motions and sounds that made me sick to my stomach.I felt my legs fail beneath me, slumping to the ground, my car keys pointed forward in a parody of a defensive stance. It came towards me, walking on its hands and feet until I could feel it next to my face, a horrid smelling mist the odour of old books and rotting flesh lurching into my nostrils in a ragged wheeze. I tensed up, waiting to feel jaws on my throat, hands around my neck, anything, but none came. Through trembling lips I managed to force a single question to the strange creature.“W…Why are you here,” I stammered. I could feel it smiling.“You heard us,” it said, in a voice full of malice and pain “You listened to us, you’re our toy now,” It laughed, a hollow, empty sound. “Lucky you,” And then, I was alone. I felt the presence go, the oppressive sounds of static and dull silence stripped away leaving the usual night sounds in its wake.I don’t know how long I lay there, staring at nothing, before sleep overtook me. When next awoke I took the headphones and gave them to a charity shop. A symbolic gesture, for now those terrible spectres visit me nightly, that horrible shifting man their herald, getting their fun from seeing my human fear.But that brings us to the real reason I’m telling this story. Be careful when you stare into a screen of static, or hear what a rational man would assume to be interference of your headphones, or even when you’re in complete silence. Be careful not to listen to closely, for strange and terrible things lurk in that maelstrom of black and white.And once they find you, you will never, ever be free.

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