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The sky outside was dull and gray, as rain dampered upon the window cell with low thuds. Thunder echoed throughout the house’s halls, as the ebony clock at the end of the long corridor stroke midnight and the crows that were perched by the broad tree stump fluttered away and into the full moon.
Janet Warren, the third youngest of her five sisters, stumbled into her clean sheets and folded from either end of her bed to find her cheeks grow an immediate shade of bright scarlet.
She heaved a great breath as she stood from her bed and opened her eyes. She gawked from one end of the room to the other, as deep, longing shadows loomed over her tauntingly.
The candle by her bed flickered instanulessly, as she raised it apart from her face and waved it across the room. Empty. She laid back under the covers and turned to her side to watch the flame flicker lowly into the night.
It had been some time later, her eyes had remained wide and attentive, unable find to sleep when at the bottom of her mattress she felt a soft tap that made her heart jolt. She leaned up- another tap.
She clapped her hands over her mouth to constrain a terrible cry that now haunted about her insides like a disingenuous devil. And now she stirred her hand to grasp her chest, only to feel her heart thudding recklessly, much more fleeingly then it had been before.
Her hands trembled uncontrollably as horrible-and almost gory thoughts began to flood through her mind.
She thought of monstrous figures veiling amongst the darkness, something that wasn’t commies or mass murderers or the boogeyman but something far worse. She rubbed at her arms, trying to make the gooseflesh disappear and return to smooth skin.
She dragged herself towards the edge of her bed, with a raw sense of fear and dread drawing over her, and held her head beneath the beds mattress.
And at this, there seemed to have been a growing blackness that edged towards her at an heinous corpse, as she bored across to what only appeared to be the imminent shadow of utter darkness.
She reached for the candle beside her nightstand and took it rather scarcely and wielded it about her chest. The dullness illuminated that nearly all of the floor could be seen expect for the farthest corner towards the left.
She then heard a soft, childish whisper- something quite inconceivable, nearly like a radio without function.
“Hello,”she asked nervously?”Hello?”
And at that, by the farthest corner leaned a bleeding, almost disfigurement hand, and nearly suppressing amongst the blackness, was a detestable face. It’s salient nails gashed amongst her skin- deep and utterly distressing, as she thrusted away in a brisk lash.
It had only been a glimpse- so sudden and so scarce, that the very image awed her with the most terrible thoughts. Her arm had now been gashed at a high degree, appearing to look like a aroused claw impressions of an evil brute-something not human, but demonic.
Janet screamed and felt the candlestick slip from her waxy fingers and shatter across the floor, leaving the room in utter darkness. She stumbled amongst the rasped boards and gawked into the corrupted coldness of near black.
Their now was a terrible terror that leaped down her throat all at once, almost like something that you swallowed that was so horrible that it galvanized yourself like electricity. She felt her internal temperature plummet, nearly as quick as a scale would when treading off.
She frisked dismayingly across her bed and wore the covers above her head and pressed her face against the pillow, as her wet tears slipped along her cheek and bathed amongst the soft cotton. She hung her feet towards her side to make assure no hand could gloom her, but only the thought of so frightened her.
That’s when the voice spoke to her.
“Find me.’’ It whispered in a rotting tone.
She whimpered into the pillow as she shuddered at the sound of the low, jarring voice. Her throat was now drowned in fear and angst, where as she was unable to speak at any extent.
Her blood thumped thickly in her ears and temples, and her mouth went sour and dry all too briefly. What came next was the elongated, erineness of the sound of utter silence that echoed thoroughly throughout the room.
The sheet was teared from overhead and thrown across the floor, as she hitched in breath and tossed her knees towards her chest and stumbled back across the headboard. The sheet was stained with the rotten smell of blood. Everywhere. Blood.
It was enough to make her gag. Buckets of scarlet leaked across the floor until red was reflected from everywhere she could see, as the dark, ozzie liquid seemed to have been splattered amongst all; The desk, the drawer, the floor, the closet wall, the bed spread, nearly everything was blotched with warm gore.
That’s when the voice spoke to her again, this time, louder than it had before.
“Under the bed.”
From beneath her she felt a stiff tap that made her jump. Tap Tap.
She gasped and clapped her hands over her eyes. Her throat ached. She could barely breathe now. She heard the soft running of sets of cool, pale hands slide faintly across the headboard, as their tapering nails creaked at spots of patchy wood with a sudden, almost bloodcurdling.
Oh please, she thought, and she left it at that. Oh please oh please oh please. Her head brimmed sultry and her hands were cold, and the hairs on the back of her neck straightened in attention with the surge of coldness, as her heart hurried in her chest like a set of running drums.
She shuddered at the sound of the low, moaning headboard, as tears slipped through her eyes and sank into the soft mattress. The hands slowly inched towards her, almost impendingly, as their scaffolding fingers slipped soundlessly through strands of her curled hair, and it’s raw nails brushing the hairs of her neck with the sense of a bitter touch.
The voice spoke. Again, saying. . .
“Who’s there?” cried Janet, her voice now rambled and broken.
Janet peered through her fingers to see a horrendous face inches away from hers. The face was stained with the noxious taste of raw blood that spewed over her, as her clothes became an immediate shade of dark, bloody red that disgusted her insides terribly.
It’s body was lanky and unstable, with his nose gnarled sidelongs and hair gashed from his scalp, and where they were skin was the corroded appearance of blood and tissue. His eyes were belted with red, bleeding veins, while his neck sprouted with vile boils that were dark and lumpy and leaked with acrid gore, and stenched nearly as much as oddments would.
The face- appearing satanic and lean to the flesh, was sheeted in bright red, with scraps of somber festered along bits of his corpse. But what made it utterly terrifying, were the lingered, keen strips of teeth crowding amongst his raw lips, shadowing her with a look of complete slaughter.
Janet screamed penetratingly, and suddenly felt her feet rise above her bed as she swayed compellingly in mid air that as soon as she discerned of so, she felt the immediate shade of nausea and dizziness stroll over her.
She opened her mouth to let out a petrifying sound as she felt the soft gust flood amongst her, and she was suddenly aware that she was being thrown across the room at such acceleration that the terror- so brand, and so fresh, crested amongst her more now then it had been done before.
Her shoulders slammed into the wall as her head shattered into a frame. The glass stabbed at her skin as she drew blood and slid across the wall then landed on her side with an aching groan.
She scurried to her feet and dragged herself across the room with cogent efforts of doing so. But only moments later, what seemed to have taken shape as an imperceptible force, that strained amongst her thrusted her against the wall with an agonizing thud.
She leered across the room and saw the monster at a fair view, with his back, along with his arms, arched in a most distressing matter. It had advanced towards her now, it’s physique description barley deserinable amongst the shadowy gloom of twilight.
He widened his mouth, his breath tasting like thews.
Their was soft tearing noise from Janet’s right arm and a scream of agony, where at the same time the bedroom door swung shut at its own doing, isolating the soft ticking of the ebony clock that echoed heavy clangs throughout the corridor.
Blood fissured from her socket and drained amongst the cool boards, staining the wood with deep scarlet in a viscous state of matter as a considerable amount of soaked, bleeding clots of foam gushed keenly throughout the room rottenly, and leaked amongst her cool lips.
The upper and lower ends of her body were parted inches from one another and were possed in such a disquieting matter that it appeared almost disturbing to glance at it without the feeling of self dread. Her face was slit from her left ear to corner of her mouth, as Janet herself seemed nearly, but not completely, drained of blood.
Her fingers were arced so far back that it made the scene nearly unattainable to glance at without wince- so unattainable that it made the afrightment of a nightmare seem merrily pleasant to oneself.
Then, from another room, a sudden escape of movement- and a desperate cry of her mother and father, asking themselves suddenly,”what was that?”
The hallway light flicked on and the bedroom door swung open. ”Janet, what’s wrong?” asked her mother anxiously.
From outside a murder of crows circled the house, laughing.
Their answer was the sound of an empty room- but what lay splattered and blemished along the walls and floor- was the rancid, and disintegrating taste of blood.