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A Cellar Nightmare
John and his parents had moved into a new house located in a rather unwonted town named Bay Grove. The town was very placid because most people kept to themselves. Bay Grove had a somber vibe to it. The sun would only come out once in a blue moon, and left it’s warmth for only a few hours.
John and his family have only been living in their new home for a few weeks when John began experiencing situations that can’t be defined. For instance, one night when John had come down to get a drink of water, he felt someone or something grasp his lower leg. He was expecting it to be one of his parents, he was frightened when he turned around and discovered no one was there. John admitted that their house had an eerie feeling to it. He felt like someone was constantly watching him, and let’s just say it was no guardian angel.
One night, when John was laying wide awake in his bedroom which is on the second floor, he was awoken by blood-curdling screams. The hairs on his arms stood up as stiff as pencils. John wanted to do nothing more than to pull the covers ever so tightly over his head and hide, but his valor took over him,and he quickly leaped out of bed, second guessing his fear. It was around 2:00 a.m. so he knew that no one in his family would be up at this time.
As he crept down the cellar stairs, each step he took felt like an eternity. When he reached the bottom of the stairs, he took a deep breath and stepped down onto the concrete floor. Searching around with his flashlight he saw nothing, but the hairs on the back of his neck stood up as he heard a whisper within his ear saying “Don’t leave”. It faintly sounded like a little girls voice. John didn’t make a sudden move for about a minute. He then felt a soft tug on his pajama pants. Without even hesitating, he ran up the steps promptly and did not stop until he reached his bed. He jumped into the covers and didn’t dare to move. He did not defy to sleep that evening.
The next morning he got up as the sun arose. Sitting on the edge of his bed thinking of his undergo earlier that morning. He doesn’t know if he should tell his parents. Maybe they’ll just think he’s crazy? Afraid of what they might say, he kept his experience to himself. He tried so hard to go along with his day as he normally would. His parents asked him, “What is wrong?”, many, many times. He just slightly shook his head and said, “Nothing.”
As night time fell, John was uncomfortable. As his mom, dad, and baby brother headed back to bed, he inched his way to his bedroom. As he opened the door, it creaked. It startled him just a bit. He instantly went into his bed. After a few minutes, John fell fast asleep.
In the middle of the night, he was awoken by a cool breeze coming within his bedroom. He opened his one eye than the other. Turning on his flashlight, he looked around, and saw nothing. Not having a window or a fan in his room; he was confused. He still could feel the breeze ever so slightly brushing against his pale white skin. It became real cold real fast. Shining the light in front of his mouth he breathed outward, and he could see his breath. Goose-bumps ran down his back making his baby hairs stand up, once again. Behind him it felt like someone was breathing upon his neck, giving him the chills. John became tense as he felt a cold hand against his chest. The pressure was so forceful, he couldn’t move. He fought it, but the tension was so potent he couldn’t do anything about it. John lost all his strength, but as soon as he did the “hand” all of the sudden it let go. He laid there, not moving. Then he unexpectedly heard a distinct voice in the background yelling, “GET OUT NOW!” He jumped out of bed and ran down the hallway as fast as he could, slamming the door open to his parents room. They both sat up, and asked “what’s wrong?, what’s wrong John?”. No words came out of his mouth. He abruptly became light headed, and fainted onto the hard wooden floor.
The next morning he woke up in a hospital. His mother was sitting on one side of him while his dad was standing at the edge of a bed. He opened his eyes slightly, looking at both of them. His vision was blurry, and he had nothing to say so he fell back to sleep.
Two days later he was released from Bay Grove Hospital and sent back home. Relieved in many ways, but anxiously waiting to see what would happen that night.
As night time came, John’s parents put him to bed just to make sure he was safe. As they said goodnight, John’s father said, “We will talk in the morning.” He just nodded his head and pretended he was about to fall asleep. As John’s parents walked out of his bedroom, leaving the door slightly cracked open, he opened his eyes, and laid there for awhile. He forced his eyes to stay open, but it was getting too late. He was extremely exhausted, and he could no longer stay vigilant.
John was in a deep sleep. Within this dream appeared a figure. The figure was tall, thin, and black. It has beat red eyes, and no evident features of a human. So what could it be? A ghost? A demon?
The “figure” or “demon” in his dream appeared to be in a familiar place. What could it be? This place looks like John’s house. It was empty; with a mist of fog in the air. It made no sense, but he went along with it. When he approached the cellar door the “figure” was standing there staring at him. Pointing in the direction of the stairs that led into the cellar. John faltered, but then he took a profound breath and approached the first step. Holding onto the railing with all the strength he had, and closed his eyes. Walking down each step thinking of what could go wrong, but praying nothing would happen. He took his final tread, and slowly opened his eyes...
John’s father woke up in the middle of the night to check on him. As he checked for John in his room, he turned out not to be there. His father didn’t think anything of it. He walked into the kitchen looking for him, but yet again he wasn’t anywhere to be found. He began to panic, and didn’t know what happened. It seemed to turn out that John had sleepwalked. As he use to do when he was younger. His father searched the hallways one last time then came upon the cellar door. He thought for a second “He couldn’t be down there?” “Why would he be?” thinking to himself. As being his father he felt as something horrible was about to happen. He then heard the same scream John heard weeks before. He whipped open the door and ran down the steps. Turned on the very light that was hanging in the middle of the ceiling. He looked around in every corner, and gasped. There standing was John facing the corner of the wall. His father walked slowly and quietly towards him. Putting his hand upon his right shoulder, asking him “What are you doing?”. John didn’t turn around right away. His father shook him a little, yelling “What’s wrong?!”. He then turned around, his father backed up, stumbling on his feet. As he stared at his own very son in front of his eyes; he knew it wasn’t him. He had a tint of grey skin, his lips were purple, and those beat red eyes.
John had no control over of his body anymore. He stared into his father’s eyes, and cried out “Heeellllpppp!”. John suddenly lost his breath and collapsed into his father’s arms. He began to cry, then suddenly after he felt a cold hand above his shoulder. He stood there, wondering if he should turn around... He did. There stood was the “figure”. The father stared in silence. Build up so much anger within him, he yelled: “Leave my son alone!”
With screams scattered in the background the “figure” burst into thin air.