Short Story - Ghosts of the Pasthorror
01 May 2019
2 minute read
An amateur try at short stories. Hope you enjoy it!
A lifeless howl pierced the pitch-black darkness of midnight. The man awoke suddenly and frantically reached for the waning light. He looked out of the rusty window. Heavy white snow coated the marshy floor with an ethereal hue. He could feel his heart quickly pulsing when he heard a reverberating noise from outside. He never slept well on this night, as it was exactly five years ago that his friend had disappeared. No one ever understood how, but he knew, he was there on that moonlit eve. He will never forget.
Gusts of wind bore through the house’s battered walls. There it is again, that bone-chilling sound. He shivered. The sound distinctly reminded him of the last echoing scream his friend made right before he drew his last breath. The man suddenly noticed a dark hooded figure walking on the snowy plain. It was slowly making his way to the decrepit house.
The man froze and his face took on a deathly, pale tinge. He had never believed in superstition, but he knew what he saw. There could be no mistake. He jumped out of bed and walked up to his desk. If he were to die, he would at least write a final letter. They might as well know. The instant he glimpsed that calm silhouette he knew his time was measured. He steadied his breath and readied himself for death’s sweet embrace, thinking he was ready. Oh, what a fool! None are ever prepared for darkness’ horrendous deeds.
As the ghosts of the past descended on him, the man laid in his bed. Anguish and fear filled his entire being. The sound intensified until the entire world shaked before the man’s eyes and his forehead clouded with thick sweat. The shadow was merely 50 feet away.
40, 30 feet. He must be hallucinating; this cannot be real. 20, 10 feet, then suddenly, darkness surrounds the house. He hears cackles of pure evil. A figure stands behind him and he falls to the ground, only to lock eyes with the most harrowing creature to have ever lived. He died that night, but his dark soul perished much earlier.
You can run, you can hide, but you will never escape the black grasp of fate.
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