I walked forward, and the wind blew against my face, a humid, hot air unnatural for this hour of the night. I wonder for a minute if this was the infamous miasma that came from the sewers, or if it simply was the road steaming off the sun's accumulated heat.
Looking to both sides I realized that it wasn't like this place was empty just because it was night- it was as if no living had comed for the past decade, maybe even more.
The buildings themselves appeared covered in black moss or some sort of grime that no one deemed necessary to clean, but it's a given that less transited areas of the city receive less care.
As I wandered, I kept wondering where I was. The signs became illegible the farther I walked, and no avenues were to be found – just ever-narrowing streets.
The cracks in the tiles no longer revealed the earth beneath them; instead, it seemed that even below the ground, there was only more asphalt. The tiles themselves were hard to distinguish, as they slowly but surely gave way to others of darker shades. Eventually, I couldn't tell where one tile ended and another began.
The houses' windows were sullied, and I couldn't see inside. The doors were all dusty, as if they hadn't been opened in twenty years. I struggled to discern whether this sector of town was becoming increasingly decayed or not, for each time I looked, a different piece of the panorama was replaced with an almost identical one – but made of dull, pure obsidian.
As I advanced, the city became eerier. The few lamps that weren't broken seemed to absorb light rather than shed it, and I wished for even starlight to guide me. Ahead, only shadows loomed, making me feel immaterial, ethereal, and floating. I knew I was moving only because the pitch-black buildings contrasted slightly with the grey sky.
A pulsating black moon appeared on the horizon, shining over the city, darkening it further, and I began to see something in the there, like thunder clouds but not quite, liquid clouds running like petrol.
The silence became overbearing, and I couldn't hear myself breathe. Panic set in as I tried to calm myself, focusing on my chest swelling and contracting.
Breathe in, breathe out. This isn't normal. The air feels solid, like mist, slipping into my lungs and absorbing the light within me, trying to snuff out my life like a candle. I recall reading that when people die, a film of shadows covers their faces like a curtain closing with their last breath.
I started running, but I didn't hear my footsteps. I didn't know if I was in the middle of the road or against the wall; I only knew I had to keep moving forward. Something moved in the darkness, its scrutinizing gaze feeling like wild panthers stalking their victims. I sensed their danger ebbing and flowing as they circled me.
My chest swelled and contracted. Was I still breathing? I cried, thinking my last words were "I hate you!" casually thrown at my parents. What would they think as the hours passed and their son didn't return? It had been hours since the darkness closed in; now I had no idea how much time had passed.
I imagined them calling the police, standing in the department, holding back tears, and telling the officer, "He's fourteen, short brown hair, very pale because he only goes out at sunset..." The cop would silently nod, thinking of other, more important cases. Who cared about some missing kid who ran away from home? They'd be back eventually.
"He likes to get out at night, and pretend to get lost, going out for days and days to the point we call a rescue party" The cop would then drop all papers and just say "Ma'am, missing reports can only be made after 72 hours" knowing full well than in seventy-two hours I'd be... God knows where I'd be!
Or what if they actually came after me? How would they find me if even I didn't know where I was? "Just keep moving forward until the city unwounds, and the sun turns black, and the darkness swallows you whole. That means you're close."
The floor beneth me became sticky, muddy, like I was walking on tar, and the fumes got even worse, the sickening heat made me feel dizzy, and the nauseating smell just made things worse.
Where am I!?
Finally, a sound broke the distance: the tolling of a bell. Shadows swirled around me like slippery snakes, unhindered by gravity or logic. Even the sky became plagued with them – flying nightmares blowing the skulls of dreamers, leaving their dead hosts with grey matter splattered on walls.
They came from every house- or what I guess were houses- and swirled around the black moon, taking more material and subtancial shape, only to descent in nosedive towards me
What did they want from me? Why was I here? I kept running toward the bells; perhaps someone was there. Perhaps this was all a dream. Perhaps when I reached the bells, I'd wake up.
I had nightmares before and just when things appear like they can't get any worse- because this can't get any worse- that's when I wake up...
Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.
because this was only a bad dream, right?
The darkness became total, devoid of all sounds but the silvery, rhythmic bells and the void's nightmares. I no longer knew if I was moving forward, but I couldn't stop.
Have you ever felt yourself dying? At that point when your soul is ripped between two horses, one urging you to let go and the other clinging to life like mold on a rotten wall? I felt pathetic; there was no final clip running through my eyes as impending doom approached. My life wasn't worth telling – no tragedies, just another vain existence dispersing like smoke into the ether.
I clashed upon a hard surface; the bells remained distant. I felt the walls, searching for a way past them, as a viscous thing crawled up my legs. I touched desperately, seeking something, anything. I screamed, but no sound emerged; my shaky hands kept trying to find that salvific something.
The bells turned sinister, merry, and faster. As I scrambled sideways through the walls, the jingle of a door knob sounded, followed by blinding light burning the crawling thing out of existence with a terrible shriek.
I dropped onto the wooden floor under the warm light, still agitated. What had just happened? I couldn't even collect my thoughts as the tolling of the bell, now physically stopped, continued ringing in my ears and head..