I'm not a writer, but I attempted my hand at a short story that began as a previous post on the main forum. I decided to expand on it and here is the final product. I know there may be some grammar problems, because it is still fairly raw, but I hope you enjoy it. Please comment if you like and it is a bit graphic and gory! BWAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!
�3:10 a.m.�
By Capthook-ah
Jack really thought that it was actually time to get up, but yet again, it was 3:10 a.m. �Damn it, it�s gonna be another tired stressful day at work!� he thought as he pulled the sheets off to get a drink of water from the kitchen. The air was cold, his house dark and he noticed that oddly, both of his cats were up, staring at him as if holding back a dark secret- harbingers of unforeseen events. Not the usual vibe he felt from his beloved felines, but figured it was just his groggy thoughts playing tricks on his sleep-deprived mind. As the light of the refrigerator illuminated a portion of his kitchen, he noticed the cats now sitting directly behind him. �Creepy, I didn�t see �em walk in behind me� he thought as he gulped down the last of his drinking water, almost choking from the jolt of seeing his unexpected friends. An unsettling thought, but after all- they were just his good ol� kitties, what harm would they do to their daily provider of food and unconditional love? Nobody can scratch so expertly behind those ears like good ol� Jack!
As he slowly made his way back to the bed to attempt sleep again, the cats followed, but more in the hurried fashion of addict-worn beggars believing to receive another relieving dose of the vice that brought them to their very unfortunate existence. Again, Jack played it off as something that the mind does at these hours with insufficient sleep and the stress of work� maybe. As he lay open-eyed in his bed, his thoughts wondered back to his recurring wakefulness at the odd hour of 3:10 a.m.
Then a very creepy and unsettling thought intruded his mind: �Isn't 3:00a.m. when the demons come out to wreak havoc, the opposite of the holy trinity?� he questioned.
�Damn, I've been reading too many Clive Barker and Joe Hill novels- I'd hate to become a twisted version of Cervantes' Don Quixote and start to believe that my cats are possessed by black-winged demons from the cold murky 9th circle of hell, crawling around in stop-motion time, blood-soaked fur disheveled and broken-boned deformities from being a host of an entity too big to occupy a feline�s petite carcass!� His whole body shivered at the very idea!
In an instant, an uncontrollable rush of vivid and horrific dark imagery continued to occupy his thoughts. [The cats] hiding in unnatural shadows with blackened, bleeding eyes bestowed upon them by all that is evil, not of this world, but gifted to them from an eternity of the most atrocious and wicked souls of hell. Emanating a gut-wrenching stench of the foul rotted dead- waiting for their most opportune time to rape his soul from its eternal mortal existence with the silent snapping sounds of muscle being removed from bone- skin from the glistening, shiny fatty flesh that lies beneath! Only heard by those that occupy the depths of hell, those that are being dealt the same relentless treatment themselves- a timeless gift from the darkness that occupied a coal black abyss.
Jack sat up and noticed that he was now soaked with sweat, his body temperature raised, his heart raced and pounded against his chest.
�What the fuck is wrong with me?� he thought,
�You need to calm down old boy.�
This is type of stuff is what he read in his books, but never a mental concoction of his own and the pace of his thoughts were racing as if desperately looking for a solution in a life or death situation. His fight or flight on high alert!
His cats still steadfast in their positions, unwavering and starring at him, gazing a burning circle directly into his heart. This time he had enough and instantly yelled in a fit of anger to remove them from his presence.
�Go! Get the fuck outta here now!� he roared with the words reverberating off of his bedroom walls and part of his house. The sound of his own voice made him feel uncomfortable, uneasy in the stillness of the night.
The cats calmly walked to the threshold of his bedroom entrance, turned and sat back down in the exact formation that they had occupied only seconds ago� still starring at Jack. He now examined them from his bed, feeling crazy for doing so, but he studied their eyes, bodies for anything out of the ordinary. Everything appeared normal and Jack was now embarrassed for doing so. Their actions weren�t normal though. Their movements not like the usual cats he sees everyday. Something was different, but he was going on about nothing and needed to get some rest for the workday that he was obligated to soon face.
Now, his heart rate was back to normal, he pulled the sheets over him and attempted sleep once again. He closed his eyes and in a violent snap, his thoughts returned to that dark place of unspeakable horror.
His mortal tendons and ligaments being severed and gnawed, not fast, but as slow as time itself will permit in good faith of causing the worst, most horrendous pain ever felt by any living human on this damned earth. Severing every aching nerve- ending with the fastidious, calm, and unwavering precision of a surgeon in his prime! A meticulous scene of horror, a vulgar display of disgust, which will repeat as a blood-soaked loop as he lay flayed wide open on a collection of cold, bloodless bodies, feeling the burning acid-breeze of hell pass over his raw and sensitive exposed innards. Feeling all that used lie neatly and comapct within spill out of the gory orifice that now occupies his irreversibly damaged naked torso, all that was warm and tender now as cold and hard as the frost ridden December wind.
His tormentor keeping his pain in a cold, frozen moment, forever trapped in a single suffocating grave that shall never pass, being stuck in eternal damnation with nobody to hear his pathetic plead for help but himself, deafened with bleeding ears that only ring with an agonizing cacophony of all of Jack�s worst memories ever experienced. His only sight will be full of images of all that he loves in a death whirl of body parts and massacred connective tissue creating a perfect circle of filth and carnage! A pain so intense so real that he will feel what it is like to burn alive until the end of time itself!
This was it, Jack couldn�t take anymore, he had to talk to someone, he had to go for a walk or something before he flipped the fuck out!
�That�s it, some fresh air will clear the mind.� he imagined.
He turned to pull the sheets off and when he opened his eyes, the cats were at the foot of his bed, purring louder than he had ever heard before.