Mr. Frightening

December 23, 2017
By gillijam GOLD, Murray, Utah
gillijam GOLD, Murray, Utah
14 articles 0 photos 0 comments

 “Hmm. That’s cute,” the young girl hummed, stretching her arms above her head as if my intimidation were as uneventful as a cup of tea, “You think you’re scary. But mister, I've seen scary-” she leaned forward over the table, and her rose water eyes flashing to a deep blood red. “-and you ain’t got his smile.”


My blood turned cold, and I froze with it. My facade fell and I knew my expression heald one of shock. Images of jagged teeth flooded my mind, blurring over my vision. It couldn’t be. There was no way his reach had extended this far.


I heard rattling laughter, a fit of unholy giggles coming from the door behind me. My throat went dry as I realised something. And it wasn’t just any laugh, it was his.


“Hey there, Abstrin…” a voice like nails on a chalkboard cooed. “Long time no see.”


I turned slowly, deliberately. There he stood, his unnaturally tall and slender form folded to lean against the doorway. He was twirling that lethal red dagger, the one from that night, between two long, spider like fingers.
My whole body screamed to move, to react, to do something, but I couldn’t. I just stared at him, terror swimming beneath my skin.


“You’ve been busy lately,” he practically purred, “Two bad you still can’t do enough to bring back your sister…’’
It seemed my heartbeat was slowing down, trying to come to a stop. I couldn’t move, couldn’t speak, couldn’t even breath. I was under his control, and he knew it. He always knew, and he was always in control.


“Mister?” the girl questioned. Her voice echoed eerily in the back of my mind.


He grinned again, those same wicked teeth glinting back at me.


“Tick tock.” He tapped his wrist mockingly. His electric green eyes still burned their venom into me.
“Mister, what are you looking at?” the girl asked.


What did she mean? Couldn’t she see that he was here? Didn’t she realise what danger this place was in?
As I blinked, my eyelids falling shut, I was sure breaking the stare would be my end. It had seen just how quickly he could move in the past. However, my eyes did open again and when they did I saw something that jarred me more than any gut in my knife ever could.


He was gone, as if he had never been there at all.


“Fella?”


“U-um, nothing,” I stammered turning back, my mind reeling. “It was nothing.”


Was it really?


The author's comments:

Events of horror never truly leave us, nor do people. The echoes of the past will forever haunt us, and in the end they are fully capable of driving us to insanity. 


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