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Forums Index -> Best-cellars -> A short by Blockbuster.
PostPosted: Mon Apr 28, 2008 2:20 am  Reply with quote

Joined: 13 May 2007
Posts: 50
Location: Oklahoma

Hey everyone...I wrote this a long time ago, and I'm wanting to share. If you like it, then let me know! Thanks.


The Curtain

He woke up in a cold sweat. Why he wasn't sure. The makeshift bed was soaked with sweat. The dream he was having couldn't have done that to him, could it? Or did it? 'God, I've got to stop drinking so much every night...' he thought to himself. Looking around, his sight still very fuzzy, he could get nothing to focus whatsoever. It was extremely dark in the room. Except for the sliver of light shining through the window, it was pitch black. That sliver was very faint...but bright at the same time as it was the only light in the room. It illuminated the empty bottle of Smirnoff vodka that was sitting on the table. Realizing the bottle was standing there, he said, "That's funny, I just bought that bottle. I couldn't have drank that much." But as the pounding began in his head, he knew that he was wrong.

The makeshift bed just happened to be the couch that was in the living room of his home. He couldn't remember how he got there, he just knew that he was there. Soaked. And cold. Very cold. He tried to get up off of the couch, but he couldn't get his legs to move. His headache was getting worse, and the light was seemingly getting brighter. He tried to focus harder on the bottle to regain some composure of reality...then the light disappeared. And reappeared. Almost as if someone had closed their eyes and opened them as quick as they closed. "Okay...huh. Weird." He leaned forward a little and his eyes were able to focus a little better. 'Where is that light coming from?' His vision was finally starting to clear up.

The light was coming from the behind the curtain that was behind the couch he was laying on. He stared at it for a few seconds... and the light disappeared again. For longer this time...for a couple of seconds. 'What is going on?' The light was so faint that it had to be from the security light that was out in the backyard. But why did it keep disappearing? He wanted a closer look. He sat up on the couch in an attempt to get his closer look. Nothing. He put on the shirt that was laying on the back of the couch. Finally, he regained his composure enough to swing both legs off the couch onto the floor. 'Good', he thought, 'first things first.'

He stood up and the pounding in his head resumed at full force. "Arrrgggghh...DAMMIT!" Massaging his temples in dismay, he took one step toward the light onto another bottle that was laying in the floor. It shattered and sliced the sole of his left foot. He screamed, but felt nothing. His foot was in shock. Deep shock. He fell back onto the couch, no longer the comfortable safe place it was as his bed, now a hard and shameless place of rest for the hurt. Still feeling nothing in his foot as far as the pain was concerned, he reached down and pulled his ankle up and over his knee, resting it on his thigh. He ran his fingers down the sole of the foot to feel exactly what kind of damage had been done to his foot. Nothing at the toes. Farther down...yes...there it was. He knew that there would be some cut there...although not sure what kind of cut. Running his fingers down the laceration, it grew deeper. Much deeper than he had imagined. There also appeared to be some glass in it still. The blood was flowing over his hands and it was only when his hands were completely covered in crimson that he realized that the entire time he was in the sliver of light from behind the curtain. He pulled the glass out of his foot and threw it on the table. 'The hell with the blood...I'll clean it up later,' he thought to himself. The glass wasn't a large piece, but enough to cause serious pain going in...and coming out. Which it didn't cause any immediate pain going in, but coming out...that was a different story. He went to scream again in dire agony, but nothing came out except a short high pitched shrill.

His mind raced back to the dream. It seemed to be the escape from the searing pain that was overwhelming. The wonderousness of the beautiful landscapes, the rainbow spectrum of flowers and the deep greenness of the grass that was growing all around him. It was just stunningly...beautiful. It was the only way he could describe it. The sky was a lush blue, with very little clouds to take away the sunshine. He was alone in the dreamworld, but happy. So happy that he just laid down in the middle of the deep sea of green grass, and stared up at the sky. It seemed like it would last forever. Then the sky turned the darkest color of grey, and the grass melted around him, as did the rest of the luscious landscape. There was an ominous presence surrounding him. It seemed to be all around, everywhere he looked. Then the eyes appeared out of thin air, smiling at him. They blinked. Smiling once more, they faded out as quickly as they appeared. He stood up on the bare ground, unable to pull himself out of the trance that had him encapsulated from the presence. He turned to run from the desolate darkness, finding on the other side there was nothing but blackness. Then all around him. Nothingness. Pure Nothingness.

Reaching forward into the dark, he touched something cloth-like. Not quite sure what it was, he was hesitant to touch it again. But something, SOMEONE, was drawing him to it. He reluctantly reached into the dark again and the eyes appeared yet again. This time, they were not smiling. Rather, they were glazed with excitement and disgust for the being that had awaken them from their slumber. He reached on past the eyes to the cloth beyond them and tugged at the fabric. It ripped very loud and the eyes widened and grew larger and larger. They were no longer filled with disgust, but the excitement was still there. They were smiling again. And disappeared.

The blackness grew even deeper. He tugged once again at the fabric in his hands and heard the RRRIIIIIPPPPPPPPP once again. Much louder this time, almost deafening. There was a tiny sliver of very faint light coming from behind the torn fabric. He felt the presence again. Stronger and stronger...and stronger still. He pulled the fabric as hard as he could and the light disappeared. The torn garment was now in his hands, and he turned to run from whatever was behind the curtain. Two hands reached out from the darkness bringing just enough light with them to see that they were soaked in blood and rotting from centuries of decay. They grabbed his legs as he tried to flee and brought him to his knees. Two more came out and wrapped around his arms, two more wrapping around his throat. They pulled on him and dragged him thru the darkness to the light...

He struggled desperately against the hands without any arms, without luck. The light was growing more intense and as he took his final breath, the eyes appeared again. Along with another set, and another. They were all smiling. The best part for them was still in store. As he was brought into the light, let his final breath go. And awoke. In a cold sweat. It then hit him why he was in a cold sweat. And now he knew why he felt so threatened by the faint light from behind the curtain. Surely, there was an explanation for all of this. Surely. He took off his shirt and wrapped it around his foot in an attempt to keep anymore blood from flowing. The light disappeared again. And stayed gone. 'Oh my God...this is not happening...' he thought to himself. "It was just a dream." He scraped his foot, the good one, along the floor to find if there was anything on the way past the end of the couch so he get to the bathroom at the end of the house and get cleaned up. Nothing. 'Good.' He stood up again...and the light flashed. Very brightly it flashed. Then resumed its normal ominous glow. 'What the hell is going on here?!' Holding on to the arm of the furniture, he took one step forward on his right foot. The light disappeared...then came back on. "Just a dream. ONLY a dream."

He placed his left foot on the carpet, toes only, and pushed forward to have the intense pain in his foot searing yet again. He wanted to scream again, but this time, he held back. He was deeply afraid that something, or SOMEONE was on the other side of that curtain. All he wanted to do is go and turn on the lights. That would make him feel safer. Taking one more step, he was in the direct path of the light from behind the curtain. Then he saw them. The eyes. Smiling. At him. He couldn't even close his. As he went to run, two hands without arms wrapped around his ankles, and brought him to the ground. The curtain flew back and four more hands came and dragged him into the light...and those eyes...yes...they were still smiling. At him. And they were hungry.

(C) 2006 Aaron Moss
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