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In the arms of sleep.

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A short story with suspense and atmosphere- In the arms of sleep It happened again last night. Just like before. It began slowly, with little things. Then it got worse. Much worse. I suppose this is your way of punishing me. If it is, it's working. If it's not when I'm awake, it's when I'm asleep. Mad isn't it? That's what most people think anyway. Sometimes I think I'm going mad. Am I? No. I can't be. It's so real. I can feel it. It is more than a nightmare. Trapped. Trapped under the hideous black carpet that chokes the sky. Darkness complete. Shadows begin to move, writhing, with an eerie shrill sound of the sucking of the air. Unmoving, I watch. Without breathing. Without thinking. The wind pounds against my face like a thundering waterfall. My breath illuminates the sky in a vivid cloud of white smoke. A trail of ivy cradles gravestones like newborn babies. An ominous feeling of dread seeps through my bones. I am in a churchyard. This is no ordinary churchyard. This is where it happened. ...read more.


It was behind me. That noise. There it is again. That faint tune. Sheer black terror is sweeping though me, every hair on my body erected. It is dark. So dark. Too dark. My entire body goes cold with terror. Something is watching me. Something is hunched over the organ. Something is there. No. It can't be. Can it? Just one yard away from me. On my feet, skin crawling and body washed with adrenaline. He plays on. Back turned, but I know he is aware of my presence. My neck prickles as I edge away. The music stops. I walk backwards. Away. Going nowhere. My eyes afraid too - open painfully wide, then narrow - struggling to focus. My eyes close in the terrifying reality of it, lips mouthing frantic prayers, teeth clenched. I dare not look upon his face. I can smell his breath; making me feel nauseated. Heart banging like a drum. I can't stand much more of this. I've got to get out of here. I must open my eyes. I must go. He breathes hard, and a raging movement disturbs his limbs. ...read more.


I stand still, very straight, as if paralysed. He rests his cold, lifeless hands on my cheek. My heart contracts with sorrow and pain. My knees buckle. I grab the organ to stop me from falling. This is not happening, I'm thinking. Why? Why are you doing this? Have you no heart? No soul? You did . . . once. But now it is long gone. Buried forever. Now leaning over, to kiss me goodbye - lips purple and cracked, flesh peeling off his face like the petals of a rose. His eyes glittering. A gust of wind whips my hair, stinging some feeling back into my cheeks - some coherence back into my brain. He puts his hands round my neck. Gasping for breath. I feel like a stuffed animal. Like a balloon about to pop. He is angry. He is not going to let go. Please . . .God no! I wake up. Neck throbbing with pain. Sucking in every ounce of air. Relieved. The wind wails as it bangs against the cold glass window. A faint knocking on the door, a gentle rattle of the knob. My door creaks. I stare into oblivion as my life flashes before me. I can feel him. Watching me. Trapped. Abigail Barker 10Fs ...read more.

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