Monsters In the Mirror- Part Three

under_the_bed_by_abigaillarson-d5qgr5m

This is Monsters In the Mirror Part 3, ladies in gents. This is the part where things start to get a little strange. I hope you’re enjoying it as much as I enjoyed writing it!

We’re coming for you. You’d like to join us, wouldn’t you? I can almost taste it. Delicious. We’re waiting for you. Here in the dark. It’s so dark…we want to be out there. We want you. So just let us out…Let us out and I won’t eat your tongue out of you face. Much. So hunger…so dark. I don’t like it here. We’re coming for you. You can’t hide in the light forever. We’re coming and when we do, we’re going to drag you into the shadow and eat up everything you are and ever will be. It’ll be less painful if you just gave in now. Let us out. Let us out. Let us out. Let us out! LET US OUT!

 

…We’re coming for you…

I see you.

They keep telling me that nothing is coming after me. That the dark is just that, darkness. A shade covering an expanse of space. However, it’s very real to me, terrifyingly so. The things that creep and hunger in the dark places of the world are more real to me than they can imagine. So I’m presented with the struggle of knowing the truth while those around me remain ignorant. It’s much like when Copernicus insisted that the Earth was actually spinning on it’s axis at an incredible speed and that it wasn’t the sun that revolved around but quite the other way around. The persecution of great minds was ongoing. Every three days, this struggle is brought into stark relief when I’m faced with this disbelief and thus, a carelessness for my safety. Yes, I’m sure that you’re probably thinking, “My, you are philosophical when you’re frightened”. No, it’s just the drugs. They have awfully interesting side effects. I can’t really blame Matthew Leigh for not understanding my fears, though I do so like to. This is all a posteriori knowledge, my dear Watson. It must be experienced for yourself to really understand it. Matthew Leigh has never seen these things for himself, he’s never experienced the fear, heard them whispering behind the curtains. My problem is this: if I know these things because of experience of this fear, and Matthew Leigh claims these monsters can’t exist because of reason, then which of us is right? It was as I was being led to my space that I realized how to prove my experience was fact. I needed to find someone else who knew the monsters were real. Surely I couldn’t be the only one. There had to be others.

All I could see was darkness. Were my eyes closed? That was an odd thing to wake up to. It hit me like a Mac Truck packed to bursting with bricks. Wake up. Wake up. I’d been asleep. My eyes weren’t closed, I realized as I began to feel dark tendrils sliding beneath my bed sheets. Eyes like unholy flames watched from the nooks and crannies of my space. From behind the worn copy of the Summa Theologia and from inside my clothes box. They were like ants. Once you saw one, you suddenly see dozens more. The motion of a tendril near my knee had me darting out of bed faster than a breath. I scrambled towards the only source of light in the room, a thin sliver seeping from beneath the pinned down curtains. I could hear them chittering about, the whispers like gravel on sandpaper or a gargling a throat full of tacks and nails.

 

‘So hungry. So dark. Hungry hungry hungry. Let us out. Let us out. Let us out, human. I’ll be good. So good. You won’t even notice us chewing on your face. We’ll have our fill and the worms will take the rest. So dark. We don’t like the darkness. Let us out. Let us out. Out out out out out. Out with the sun creatures.’

 

Who had turned out the lights? I’d told them! I told them to never turn out the lights! My eyes struggled to make out the vague dream-like image of the light switch on the wall across the room. It was too far! I’d never make it. There were more monsters between it and I than it was possible to get through. My skin crawled just at the thought of brushing up against those blackened bodies. My bed covers were shifting eerily, the tip of a sliding, gleaming deadly tentacle emerging slowly from the white sheets. My breath was coming in quick gasps, the light swirl of encroaching dizziness teased my brain almost as steadily as the terror that was seizing my entire being. My heart felt like Pearl Harbor had just lodged itself there. How could anyone doubt that this was real? Nothing was more real than this. A grayed hand began to stretch towards me. The fingers were thin and papery like something left to decay in the desert. Each finger had an extra joint, only enhancing the image of claws and other-worldliness. It’s nails glinted black as ebony in the frail light as it inched closer and closer. No, no, no, no, no, no, no! My hands convulsed around the yellow curtains, terror seizing my limbs. I scrunched up my body as close to the wall as I could manage in a vain attempt to evade their hold as long as I could. The whispers raised to a rolling din.

 

‘Let us out! Let us out! Let me out! HUNGRY HUNGRY HUNGRY!’

 

A tentacle began to wrap itself around my ankle and with that one burning cold touch, the icy frozen terror broke and I screamed, I screamed as if my entire existence depended on that sound escaping my body. I don’t know how long I went without breathing but I just kept screaming. I screamed and screamed and screamed and then…I tore the curtains down off of the wall. Sunlight poured in like the blessed light of God. I watched the monsters shriek in agony before they scurried back to a mirror that someone had carelessly uncovered. I was all at once aware of the tear tracks running down my face like a river. It was all falling away though. Everything. I found myself suddenly staring up at the ceiling, the light from the now open door pouring in over me. I wasn’t sure how I got there but darkness was descending over my vision. I just had time to glimpse Matthew Leigh’s concerned face over me before I knew no more.

 

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One thought on “Monsters In the Mirror- Part Three

  1. Pingback: Monsters In the Mirror- Part Four | The Writer's Bay

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