2 comments/ 5735 views/ 4 favorites A Waking Nightmare By: SecondCircle This is an entry for Literotica's 2015 Halloween Story Contest. It's something a little strange, but give her a spin. Don't forget to vote and check out other entries in the contest. Oh. And remember... reading in the dark is so much better, don't ya' think? **** You aren't sure what wakes you. It takes a moment to even realize you were asleep. Blinking, you allow your eyes to adjust. Just as soon, you let your eyes close again. A few more minutes won't hurt. There's no light against your eyelids. It isn't time to get up anyway. Your hand sweeps in an arc as you search for the covers. There are no covers. You feel only grass. Your eyes open wide and you sit up straight. There's an ache in your neck that you can't quite rub out. It still hasn't really hit you yet. You turn and examine your surroundings. What you find makes you just stare in shock. You're outside. Why? Why in the world are you outside? You remember going to bed, laying down and letting the day just melt off... right? You rub your eyes and try to put it all together in your head. You find only more confusion, that haze that shrouds the brain and consumes all memory. Your house is right in front of you. It's still dark outside. So what is it then... sleepwalking? It seems absurd even as you think of the word. You've never had that problem. Well, not that anyone has spoken of. Either way, you feel ridiculous sitting on the ground in the middle of the night. Biting back a groan, you climb to your feet. You spread your arms wide, then up to the heavens. Every ache in every limb seems to drain away. You study the sky. It's dark, but there's no stars. Must be cloud cover. It feels like rain anyway. You wonder what time it is. Your hand goes to your side. It makes you pause when you realize your phone isn't there. Patting your empty pockets, you also notice that you must have fallen asleep in your regular clothes. You shake your head. What the hell happened last night? Did you drink? You know that you indulge every now and then but... there's no way you were "blackout" drunk. Still, as you survey your surroundings, you can't remember the night before. Truthfully... you can't remember anything at all. It's at that moment you fully recognize that something is wrong. You look around. There's cars in the driveway. Was it a party? No, there couldn't have been. You would have remembered by now. You don't hear a thing: no traffic, no crickets, no nightlife... nothing at all. Slowly, you start making your way toward your house. Your head is still swimming as you try to figure out what this odd feeling is. It's strange enough waking up in the front yard, but things seem even stranger somehow. "What is going on?" You ask aloud to yourself. Even your voice sounds peculiar. You start to head toward your front door again. The house seems to stare back at you, with huge empty glass eyes. Your steps slow. Why does it look so run down? The house itself just has such a lonely feel to it. The door is open. You stop. The door isn't cracked. It isn't ajar. The front door is standing wide open. Already your heart starts to gallop. Questions bounce through your brain faster than you can answer them. Why would the door be open? Is someone inside? Why does everything seem out of place? Taking a breath, you calm yourself and start to think. Maybe you did sleepwalk. That would explain why the door is wide open. The thought even makes you grin. You feel stupid. Is this really happening? It would make for a funny story if you did drink so much you passed out on the lawn. You near the first step as you begin walking. The door creaks. It closes halfway. A shape moves behind it in the dark. Every hair on your body stands on end. Something is not right. Someone's in there. You take a few steps back. Deep within you is anger, the outrage and annoyance that someone is in your house. You want to charge in and demand the intruders to show themselves. All of those emotions are buried deep. Things are already so strange. You can't fight the ominous feeling emanating from that doorway. The glass eyes just keep watching you, waiting for your next move. There must be a logical reason. There's no sense in thinking the worst, right? Maybe you had friends over. Maybe you did get a little drunk or something. Then why the bad vibes? Turning around, you decide maybe to go to the neighbor's house. If nothing else, you could use a phone. Better safe than sorry. They'd probably be upset if you woke them up, but if someone.... The houses are gone. For several seconds you don't even breathe. There's no houses on the street. What the hell? There's no neighbors. All of the structures are just absent. Just a field of grass for as far as you can see. Rubbing your eyes, you squint into the distance. That darkness reaching up at the horizon, that must be the trees. Weren't they closer? Or further? A dream. Of course it is. Everything seems so out of focus. Nothing quite fits together in any way that makes sense. It must be a dream. The realization makes you smile. You even get that oh so cliché idea to pinch yourself, but shake your head and turn back toward the house. The sky is pure black. There's no moon or stars. Everything in the distance is a blur. The house even seems to sit in a peculiar way, like it's slumping over from some sort of exhaustion. You can't see the road. You are all alone standing before your house... a house... is it even yours? It has to be a dream. You don't recall any dream as vivid and real as this, but it's the only explanation. Staring down at your hands, you wonder if you are this self aware in every dream you have. You shrug. When you truly wake up, it will probably fade just like any other. There's not much to do except go into the house. Looking at the door, you grow uncertain. If this is a dream, what was it that moved behind that front door? You feel the hard beat of your heart in your chest. What else is there to do? As you cross the yard, the mouth of the door draws closer to you. The glass eyes look on indifferently. The rocking chairs sway to a wind that does not exist. You study them as you step onto the porch. This isn't your house. You don't remember rocking chairs. You don't recognize those vehicles, and you're sure you don't drive any of them. You think. You shake your head and reach for the door. Stepping just inside the threshold, you pause and listen. The house seems dead. There's no light and no noise. You close the door behind you, mostly from habit. Ahead is a dark hallway beside a rising staircase. An open doorway is ahead to your left. Another one is directly to your right. You shake your head. "This isn't my place," you mutter to no one. Then, what is this place? You distantly wonder what you must have fell asleep watching to spin up such a dream. You find the light switch and give it a flip. Nothing. No lights come on, not inside nor out. Nothing seems as ominous as it was when you stood outside. The house just seems cozy and asleep. You feel like if you made too much noise you'd wake the residents, yet something gives you the impression that you're alone in the house. "Hello?" You call out. Immediately you scoff. How generic. Why wouldn't you call out to a dark house? Isn't that what they all do on TV? You smile and take a few steps down the hallway. It's pretty gloomy, but you can see the decorations and the pictures on the wall. It looks like a home. A child's coat is on the floor. An old stain can still be seen near the baseboards. Moving slowly, you examine the pictures framed on the wall. There's a picture of the family at the beach, the wind blowing their hair. Another one depicts a family portrait, professionally captured. Another shows a young child pretending to "lift" a Ferris wheel in the background. You can't help but smile. Each picture tells a piece of the story. You squint through the dark at the people in the pictures. Maybe there's someone you might recognize. You pause by one family portrait sitting on a small table. Taking the frame, you hold it closer to your face in the dark. Their faces are blank. "What?" You whisper. You study the image carefully. The woman's hair is styled. Her necklace matches her earrings. The man has his arm draped over her shoulder. A young child is in their arms. Another adolescent stands at their side. But there are no faces. You blink hard, wondering if it's your eyes, or if it's just too dark. Pale blurs remain in place of expressions. You can't tell if they've been scraped away or if they are just faded for some reason. They are just gone. "Weird," you mutter. Where is everyone? Where's this family? Why are you dreaming about strolling through a random house? You replace the picture on the small table. It is a dream, after all. Nothing ever seems to make sense. You don't even realize that you've already walked to the end of the hall and into the kitchen. Everything seems to be in order. There's no dishes in the sink, no plates lying about on countertops, no mess on the bar. There is no table, only a large center island. You jump at the sound of the loud thump. In the quiet dark of the house, it's enough to send your heart scampering into your throat. Whirling toward the hall, you can still hear scuffling. You blink, wondering if you should peek back into the hall. The sounds continue. The thought crosses your mind to head for the back door. Glass shatters somewhere in that hall. You realize that you're holding your breath. Just then, you hear... voices? You hear people. It isn't their voices exactly, but their breath, a word uttered here and there, a pause, a low groan.... Glancing around, you ease toward the hallway again. Peering around the corner toward the front door that you came through, you see a scuffle of motion. You almost jerk back into the kitchen... but they don't see you. They don't even notice. There's two of them, a man and a woman. You jump again at the sound of glass breaking when a picture falls from the wall. Immediately you understand. The man shoves the smaller woman flat against the wall. Without hesitation, he lunges, pressing his face to hers. Their bodies join as they claw at each other desperately. You hear the gasp of breath, a sigh of utter relief, and the moan of enjoyment. Squinting, you try to get a better look. You can't see much detail in the dark. Her arms encircle the man's neck. She's shoving him downward, and his head wanders down her neck to the tops of her breasts. Their movements are quick, hungry, and desperate. You hear a belt, then a zipper, and a chuckle. They disappear into a doorway. The sounds persist. Where... the living room? Your gaze follows the sounds to the archway beside you in the kitchen. The room beyond that door is glowing with dim yellow light. There's a brief moment of hesitation. All you can do is stand there in shock and listen. Their voices are hushed. Your heartbeat is louder than anything. Your eyes are trained on that archway. The woman moans, loud enough to fill the whole house. She is quickly shushed by her partner, at which point you hear a giggle. You cannot help yourself. Taking slow, soundless steps, you ease across the tile toward the door of the living room. The couple doesn't know you are here, or at least they didn't seem to. You briefly consider the sliding glass door at the rear of the kitchen. Your impulse is to leave before you are discovered. It's a strange house, and though it's a dream, you are the intruder. Vulnerability seems to coat your skin, and yet... those sounds! The distinct ripping of fabric makes you pause. The woman groans and gasps. The pull of your own curiosity builds with each passing second, never mind that pleasant warmth of arousal you feel. Before you even realize it, you're peeking around the corner into the living room. A lamp was turned on. The lampshade is tilted as though it were knocked aside. You spot the couple on the couch. It alarms you to see that the woman is practically naked already. Her clothes are strewn about the floor, including the torn black panties. She's straddling the man sitting on the couch. The sight is so alluring, so incredibly unabashed. Your eyes wander up the woman's bare back as she slithers about in the mans lap. Her every curve is shadowed by the lamp light, drawing your eye to every highlight and every dark tempting line. Weathered hands clutch the ample flesh of her hips. Long toned arms cradle the woman close. Much of the man is hidden from you, but you can see that he's tall. His tan body is the perfect contrast to hers, and the two of them move in harmony together. Delicate legs slide over thick sturdy thighs. It isn't so much their nudity that locks your gaze to the couple. No, it's the way they move. The tall man can't pull her in close enough, he can't find a place on that pale skin to let his greedy hands rest. It's like he's afraid to lose the sensation of her skin. The woman gasps and moans, rocking her hips forward into his lap. She gropes at his neck, and the shudder that hits her body is like she channels some sort of orgasmic energy right from the touch. You give a brief glance behind you, but you can't look away. Already you feel your breath diving deeper and fuller. A feeling stirs inside you. You might as well be right beside that couple, watching her breasts bounce against the man's hard chest. Your eyes can't seem to stay away from the woman's round ass, where you see that hard shaft driving upward. The man's every desperate thrust send ripples across the flesh of her cheeks. Hard flesh and smooth skin collide again and again. Their grunts and groans grow increasingly louder. Something in the very air around you feels like it's building. You know what must be coming. The couple's movements grow more frantic. Her body bounces wildly on the man's. He squeezes tighter and jerks her onto his shaft over and over. Your mouth is getting moist. Just watching the scene makes you feel like you're sweating all over. You have to see it. You know the moment is coming. The lamp even seems to glow brighter. You shift from foot to foot and squeeze your trembling hands into fists. The woman is screaming now. You know she's close and it's driving you nuts. The man's knuckles are white. At any moment they could explode. Your own mind is racing. Should you leave now before they see you? Or after? How is this dream this incredible, this raw and vivid? You don't care. Tension takes a strong hold of you. You've gotta see this. It's just too steamy. Everything stops. The couple on the couch freezes. What was wild and deafening becomes still. You watch unmoving from your place at the door. You don't even breathe. Minute after minute seems to pass. All you can hear is the pounding of your own pulse. They aren't moving. The woman is still sitting naked in the man's lap. The man's hands still rest atop her ample cheeks. You can't hear them breathing. You don't see their bodies shifting at all. You ease back a few inches from the door. The couple just stares straight ahead at one another. Your mind starts racing. Did they see you? Or hear you? Why are the just sitting there? What happened? Is this apart of something weird in the dream? The lamp flickers. Shadows blink on and off in the living room. Something sinks inside you. The scene suddenly looks odd... and unsettling. Your eyes widen as you watch the couple move in perfect synchronization. Both of their heads swivel very slowly. A sense of alarm and dread blazes across your skin when you realize they are turning to look at you. The lamp behind them is still flashing. Frozen in shock, you at last see the features of the lovers as their gazes fix upon the door where you stand. Their faces are blank. You gasp and stumble back from the door. God, their faces! There are no eyes, no lips, no noses! Only expressionless skin glares your way. You remember the pictures in the hall. These aren't pictures though. The man and woman are faceless! Just as your mind is trying to react, a sound begins to lift in the air. The tone is low, but builds and builds and builds until an ear splitting wail fills the house. It's louder than an air raid siren. Grimacing, you cover your ears. You notice the light no longer blinks, but starts to shine brighter and brighter. It's then that you see those gaunt faces of the lovers on the couch again... and they have changed. Both the man and the woman now have large slits across the bottom of their visage... a... a mouth? The holes gape open too wide, their jaws stretching impossibly low. They stare blankly. The siren scream that fills the air seems to blast forth from the black mouths of the lovers. The bulb in the lamp bursts just as you turn to flee. You don't know where the hell you're going, but you're getting away from that living room and those... those people. That awful sound... or, or scream... whatever it is drowns out all thought and all sanity. The sliding glass doors. Immediately you make for the back door of the kitchen. You can't wait to get out of this house. You reach for the handle of the sliding door. Glass shatters and your ears ring painfully as the door explodes inward. You scream in surprise and fall back from the door. Shards of glass are everywhere. The curtains billow outward overhead. Scrambling backward across the tile, you stare fearfully at the shattered doors. All is immediately silent again. Breathing hard, you look around. The living room behind you is dark. No one is there. The siren scream is gone. You are alone, gasping on the tile floor. You scan the back door, wondering what in the world destroyed the glass. After a moment, nothing has happened. You climb to your feet, your eyes fixated on the door. A figure steps into view. You stop. It's a person just outside the back door. For a moment you are stuck, caught between reflexes. Your brain is locked in a maelstrom of thought and emotion. The figure sways as if drunk, then turns toward the broken door. It's a tall body, looming into the door with dangling arms. You are already backing away, but your eyes won't turn. You're trying to make sense of the damned thing. The head is too misshapen, twisted and bloated. One of the legs bends the wrong way. As it steps through the threshold of shattered glass, a shard from the door slices its midsection and tears flesh away. The person hardly notices. It moves through the door regardless. You're already dashing into the hallway. For a half second you hesitate. Your mouth gapes open as you stare down the hundred of feet that the hallway has become. This... this was not like this moments ago. What the hell is going on? Frantically you glance into the kitchen. A dark shape still sways aimlessly. You dare not even think about a scramble to the back door. Not with... not with that in there. You're half trotting before you even consciously make the decision. No matter how hard you squint through the dark, the hallway appears no shorter. Voices begin to echo all around: gentle sobbing, distorted cries for help, angry screams of rage... all of it grows louder the further down the hall you run. "It's a dream," you say aloud. "It's a stupid damn dream!" But your head is on a swivel. You look for that tall lumbering thing behind. You search for any source of the voices, but they seem to slide out of the air right in front of you. Scanning the pictures on the wall, you see more and more of those faceless family portraits. They were small before... they keep getting bigger. You realize that the faces are turning to watch you run. That woman's head turns. Those two children's heads turn. That man. That family. All of the faceless turn to watch you go. A Waking Nightmare That large picture ahead on the left... it's moving. You deny the logic over and over in your head. It does no good. Tiny fragments of glass fall to the floor. Your back is pressed to the opposite wall as you attempt to slide by that bulging picture. It's a picture of a face; a contorting face that is trying to press its way through the frame itself. Your head jerks back as your neck is seized! Immediately your hands claw at the thing around your neck. A peculiar pain lodges in your throat as the fingers squeeze painfully. You pull at them frantically. It's only when you lose your footing and fall that the hand on your neck loses its grip. You scramble to your feet rubbing the icy pain on your throat. All thought or logic evaporates in your head as you begin to run. With a quick glance behind, you can see the hand protruding from the frame on the wall. Every breath is a gasp now. The door is there. It just seems so far away. Why is this happening? Why are you still dreaming? Why can't you wake up? It is a dream isn't it? Hallways don't just stretch and arms don't come out of damned picture frames! The logical side of your brain still scrambles to put the pieces together, but it has no time. You only know you want out. The door... you have to get to that door. The screams are so loud you can't even hear your footfalls. You've run for so long that the cold air in your chest feels like razor blades. You can see the front door. It is closer... isn't it? You can't stop. That's what you swear to yourself over and over. Get outside. Get away from here. Run. Run. You collide with the door at last. It happens so suddenly that you stare at it for several seconds, baffled. Then you reach for the knob and twist. It does not move. You curse, jerking and wiggling the knob frantically, but to no avail. In your frustration you beat at the door. "Please...." Whirling at the sound of the voice, you wildly grasp at your ear. The single sobbing word had sounded like it was spoken from lips pressed close to your ear. The thought makes you shudder. The stairs loom ahead. The living room to your right looks like a black pit. That long tunnel of a hallway still wails out in agony. Your heart is galloping in your chest. No matter what you do, you can't get your thoughts together. You can't make sense of anything. Every part of your body shakes beyond your control. "Think, think, think!" You hiss angrily. Turning toward the dining room, you look to see if there's another door, or a window, any way to escape or anything of use that might wake you up. There are people seated at the dining table. You flatten your back against the door. You don't breathe. Your eyes dart around searching for something to use as a weapon. There is nothing. Through wide eyes you watch the motley family at the table. The two larger people are naked, slumped lifelessly in their chairs, posed as if in some sort of odd portrait. You don't need to look at their faces to know that they have none. It's the smaller people that are new to your dream entranced eyes. A dim, blue glow emanates from the tabletop. One of the figures hunkers over this glow. It's holding... something... a phone. You blink. The person is holding a phone. You see two thumbs flashing rapidly across the screen of the device, quicker than you can follow. Children, you realize. Two girls. The older one is on a phone. The younger sits and stares blankly. You're trying to catch your breath but not alert the strange, silent family at the table. Every breath you take is across quivering lips. You're trying to think of something, anything. The stairs are just ahead... it just seems like a damned dead end. Your brain screams at you to try the door again, break a window, to do anything, but your eyes beg you to stay still and silent. The thought of those things at the table hearing you is humbling. You stare at them in a horrified trance, wondering what hell they must have suffered, and wondering why you are trapped in such a nightmare from which you cannot awaken. The fact that they sit so still and lifeless is unsettling enough. The naked corpses of the lovers are too obscene to look at with their misshapen heads and purple nipples. The others are no better. Much is very normal about them; they are clothed and looked like normal children. The older of the two is even wearing earphones connected to that glowing phone it held. But their faces.... Seeing those blank featureless heads is something that still makes your brain writhe about in your head. It looks so wrong. All in unison, each of the four heads slowly turn toward you. "No!" You gasp. Each of the wretches stand. The tallest of them wobbles, as it's leg bends the way it shouldn't. The bloated head of the woman rolls about on her broken neck. You all but recoil at the site of the thing holding the phone. A plastic bag is cinched taut around it's head. And the little one... why is it dripping? They each turn and begin walking toward you. Their faceless gazes never look away from you, even as they maneuver mechanically around the table. "No!" You cry out. "This isn't real, it isn't real!" Those gaping black mouths appear. The deafening sirens pierce the air. You don't wait. You don't think. In a frenzy, you're practically crawling up the stairs. Even though you dread to look back, you have to know that you're getting away. It only takes a single glance to see the four faceless people already standing at the bottom of the stairs. The sudden sight of them pulls a scream right out of your gut. You stumble to the top of the stairs and collide with a door. There's something wet at your feet. Jumping away from the closed door, you look at the crack at the bottom, where you see that water flows freely into the hall. Backing away from the shut room in horror, you hear the sound of the faucet running from inside. BLAM! Again you're reeling in the second floor hallway. Another closed door, another room shut. Whatever crashed against this door on the opposite side continues to beat and bang. You can hear the sounds of a struggle, and you wince at the pleading screams you hear within. The cries for help are so desperate that the tiniest fraction of you wants to open the door in some attempt to help. The thought of what is happening on the other side chills your blood. Water spreads across the floor, cascading down the stairs. The walls seem to rattle from the incessant beating at the bedroom door in front of you. Your senses are overloaded. There's too much haze in your eyes, too much horrible beating and screaming. The hallway only seems to grow darker, as if the darkness itself is crawling along the walls. All the while, you still are wondering why you can't wake up. "This is a dream," you remind yourself. The first door at the landing swings open. A wave of water carries a stuffed animal down the stairs. "No! This is a dream!" You repeat. The screams behind the second door turn into muffled gasps. You hear a strange papery rustling. The beating at the door gets more frantic. "This is just a dream!" You say again, trying to convince yourself. The entire building shakes. The water has reached your ankles. A thundering groan drowns out all sound. You cover your ears. Turning this way and that you search for another door, or a window, or anything to free you from the nightmarish house. You lunge for a closet door but it doesn't budge. You curse and realize it wouldn't have helped anyway. When you glance toward the stairs, you immediately wish you hadn't. The stairs are gone. All that remains is a sealed corridor. At the blackest depths of the hall, four blank faces stare out at you. Each one is motionless. Pure cold fright seizes your insides. Your mind starts to taunt you. You know you'll never escape them. Nothing in the house is right. Even now the walls bow inward and the air is split with that roaring groan. The doors won't open to you. Why the hell would you think a window would be any better? Why can't you wake up? Those pale faces move. You lose sight of them but you can still see the movement in the dark. They're coming. Alarms are sounding in your head. There's no time to think. There's no time for anything. You back away. Sloshing through the lukewarm water, you turn to flee. That sensation is so powerful. It feels like the faceless things are right there, arms reaching for your neck. You hear that siren scream. The images of those gaping black mouths flash in your head. White hot terror floods your brain in neurotic flashes. You stumble through a door. For several seconds, you are frozen in shock. Then, you scramble to slam the it shut. As though something would try to break in, you fling yourself against the door and pin it closed. All at once, everything is silent. A warm orange glow fills the room. Gasping, you rub your eyes and blink several times, trying to make sense of your surroundings. Things are all of the sudden quiet, which is so very strange after hearing the groaning of the house and that terrible scream. It's a bedroom. You see a desk sitting in a corner, piled with books. There's a set of sliding doors for the closet. There's a bathroom. Nothing is dark. Nothing is misplaced. Nothing seems... strange. It's the sounds that you hear that surprise you. A gentle tune is playing faintly in the room. "Oh, god!" The glare of actual light hurts your eyes at first. You squint, searching for the source of the sounds. "Ooh, right... there...." The sheets on the bed are in piles. You hear squeaking. Clothes litter the floor. All you can do is stare. It's such a sudden shift. Even now you tremble. Your wet feet soak the carpet. Each breath is a stuttering gasp. The house was ready to cave in on you. It's hard to come to grips with the pleasant simplicity of the two people on the bed. "Oh, oh my god! Oh, harder!" "Ohh, you like it rough?" You stare in utter amazement. The woman sits atop the man. Her skin is a vibrant glow, but the man's skin is a deep tan. It is a beautiful contrast. Every curve in her back seems to slide and twist. The sight is so alluring. Her arms press downward, locked stiff against the man's broad chest. The woman's waist is rolling back and forth. Her plump cheeks clench together every time she slides forward into the man's lap. Two strong hands clutch her tightly, pulling her deeper and deeper. "Oh, right... like that!" You blink at the scene. Your mouth hangs agape. One particular thrust from the man's powerful hips, and his thighs slap the woman's skin. His genitals bounce beneath her ass. The woman tosses back her head and wails out in pleasure. You watch the soft ends of her hair brush across that slender back. A hand comes down hard with a pop on her ass cheek. The lady squeals gleefully. Her thrusts become faster, more desperate than before. The pieces in your head are still spinning. All that water... those screams... now this? None of it made sense. You turn and look at the door in a daze, then stare back at the couple having sex. Licking your lips, you bite down hard on your tongue. It's a dream right? It really has to be. It has to be. The man sits up and cradles his lover in his arms. You watch them kiss. They kiss until they are seemingly out of breath. Their tongues roll together as they gasp for air again and again. The woman moans against his lips. The two of them couldn't be more lost in each other's embrace. Her waist rolls into his with each lull of the soft music. You see his fingers digging into the ample flesh of her ass. You still haven't moved. You feel lost, like a shipwrecked sailor seeing land for the first time. It feels hollow and weak in your bones. The sight of the lovers is so serene, so pleasant that you actually enjoy the confusion for a brief moment, even going as far as to grin at the utter ridiculousness of it all. Then you notice something. You gaze at the man and the woman, entranced by their love making and stunned by this sudden shift of realities. Your eyes take in so much of their flesh, that hard rough muscle against her delicate curves. Something is different... something stands out You watch the man heave his body up into hers. You watch the arch in her back as her hair flips wildly. You hear the cry of ecstasy that bursts from her shiny lips.... Lips. Eyes, noses, ears! You can see their faces! For once in this damned nightmare, you see recognizable human features! And what features they are. The very sight of the woman's face makes your breath hang in your chest. She's beautiful by anyone's standards. The way her eyelashes flutter at the man's touch speak to the sensations she must feel. Looking at her face, with her lips open in a moan of pleasure, you feel a twist inside of you. The man nibbles at her neck, lost in the taste of her smooth skin. His groans and grunts are those of pure carnal hunger. Your eyes trace that hard jawline, down to the hunks of muscle at his shoulders. His flesh is so tight, so tough, and so tan. You suddenly feel out of place like an intruder. By now, you would have thought the lovers would have seen or heard you burst into the room. A sick feeling starts to swirl in your gut. You can't seem to look away from the couple. Surely, they are the same people you spied in the living room, right? Downstairs you felt aroused. What is this feeling now? Why is your heart pounding? Why do you feel your cheeks flush warm? Is it simple embarrassment? Is it because of the crazy shit in the house? There's something about the lover's faces... but what? "Oh God!" You blink. The couple has stopped their love making. You watch as the woman scrambles out of the man's lap. She's pulling the covers up to hide her body. The man's eyes are wide as he pats the air. With his other hand, he vainly tries to shield his erection. "Hey, c'mon, just take it easy," the man says. He's talking to you. You stare at him in confusion. "Just think about this, put that down!" He insists. You look behind you, then back at him. What the hell is he talking about? In three blinding seconds, white hot light sears your eyes. So many images flood your brain. Each one flashes, almost too quickly to follow. A man is standing, but quickly falls. The object cracks against his knee. You see a man's face. You see the red slop that remains on the floor. Blood. A man's body quivers and jerks. The fingers and the arm draw up like a bird's claw. Nerves still shoot in the body. The flashes of light stop. Your chest is heaving. Somewhere in the room, a shrill scream fills the air. You taste copper. It's dripping from your nose. Glancing down, you stare at the body at your feet in horror. Your lip trembles. The tan body still jerks. You can't even look at the soup near his neck. You gasp in shock. Even as you turn the aluminum bat over in your hand, you can't believe you are holding it. Where the hell did it come from? She's still screaming. Your gaze slowly floats toward the woman in the corner. The lampshade is tilted beside her, casting an odd glow on her skin. She is so beautiful. The vertigo returns and your stomach twists. Your blood feels like it pumps so hard that it could shoot out of your fingers. You tighten your fists against the feelings. "Stop! Don't you come near me!" Your eyes roll into your head once more as another jolt of images surges into your brain. Again, it only takes a few seconds. Two walls. A corner. Metal collides with a skull. Hair and tooth and bone. It isn't a head anymore. The room rushes back at you and you stare at the crumpled corpse in the corner. The very sight of it causes you to recoil and stumble backward. You fall to the floor. The aluminum bat drops from your hands. Shaking your head, you deny its existence. You never picked it up. You've never seen it before. The walls are red. You can't look anywhere without seeing something horrible. You squeeze your eyes shut. There's no way to keep your heart from pounding. You start to run your hand through your hair but immediately recoil in disgust at the warmth that touches your head. Thoughts seem like voices. Speaking aloud, you retrace your steps to your own sanity. "No, no, no, I... I was being attacked... it's a dream... those things chased me in here, they were after me, those people... they were after me, I ran in here. I was hiding, I was running!" The music changes. Trumpets softly signal the beginning of a song. A gently galloping drum beat rolls into the room. You stare wide eyed at the radio on the nightstand. It's a song you recognize, a romantic melody. A man's soothing voice drifts out. ~ I... I'm so... in love, with you....~ You're shaking uncontrollably. Somehow, you find a way to rise to your feet, but you refuse to stare at the carnage in the room. Those people, those two happy lovers... what the hell happened? "Is it truly still a mystery?" You whirl at the sound of the voice. Scanning the room behind you, you wait to see a man, a woman, a person, anyone that the voice may have belonged to. Only darkness shrouds the wall... except for the candle burning at the desk. Squinting, you realize that there's someone, or something, seated at that desk. At first it just looks like more darkness. You can see it though. It's a hooded robe. The person is seated with their back towards you. For several seconds, you stare, trying to blink away the blood and the dizziness. Your throat feels too sore to force the words, but the figure in the dark hooded robe speaks again. "Come now. You've made it this far. No sense in being shy now." It's a man's voice, calm and distant. The hooded head turns slightly, but you can't catch a glimpse of the person's face. Everything seems so out of place. The gently humming romantic tune, the bodies strewn about the floor, and now this odd man seated at the desk. You dare to take a step closer, but an overwhelming sense of dread washes over you. It's like the dark around the man snickers at you. Every sense you have is repulsed by the hooded figure. "What... what is happening? Who are you and... and what is this place?" You ask, your voice cracking. The hood turns again. "It's your home, of course. Always has been. And always will be." You shake your head defiantly. Anger fills your gut. "No. No, this isn't. This is... this is some nightmare." The hood turns away again, but the voice continues. "You know, crimes of passion are always the most tragic. Love can drive us to do wonderful things, it can make us feel so alive, like no other thing in the world exists, except that one other person or that one sensation." You watch the figure move. The sound of a page turning catches your ear. You glare at the hooded man in utter confusion. He continues talking. "Love can also drive us to do terrible things. So potent is its touch that we long to keep it to ourselves, and woe to the ones that come between us and our passion... even if the passion has long since left." You can't take anymore of the nonsense. "What are you talking about? Who are you! What is going on!" The hooded man turns... completely. You step back at the sight of the blank face behind the drooping cowl. Terror skitters down your skin like a hundred spider legs. You recall the faces of those people in the hall. "Those people in the hall?" The faceless figure asks suddenly. "Do you still not recognize what you did? Do you still think this a dream? That you will wake up?" Your mouth opens but you don't even know what to say. Your head is still shaking. Each breath you take feels forced, like at any moment you will collapse from the denial you feel. The hooded man motions. "Have a look. See what your passion brought you to do. Look upon their faces that you deny even in death. The face of your spouse. The face of the cheater. This is your story. You cannot change what has been written. Only what will be written." A Waking Nightmare You turn your head, but you can't bring yourself to stare at those bodies again. Most especially, you dare not look at what used to be their heads. Glaring at the figure in the robe, you clench your jaw. "No," you say. "They... no. Those children out there—" "Are your children," the figure says calmly. The hood shakes back and forth. "Such rage and insanity. The human being is a terrible creature. Such innocence in the face of tragedy." Your anger bubbles deep within you. The faceless man is lying. You know he is. You've never seen this house before. You've never seen these people, you know you don't live here with them. You woke up in the yard, you know you did. None of this is possible. It is a dream. Finding the words, you say, "I did not—" "Shh, shh!" The hooded figure holds up a hand. "This is the best part!" You watch as his hooded head nods along to the music in the room. ~ Why... somebody... why do people break up? Turn around and make up.... ~ Annoyed, you take a few steps toward the man. "I did not kill them!" You yell. "I don't know them! I don't know this house!" With your vision shaking and your fists clenched, you stare hard at the person at the desk. The hooded figure does not move. The music in the room warps and slows. The candle burns lower. The lamp light begins to flicker. All the tension in your body begins to melt as the hair on your neck stands. From somewhere in the house, the walls begin to groan. Dread emanates from the hooded figure's very being. You tremble uncontrollably. The hooded head turns. The faceless man peers out at you from his cowl. You imagine that something about that terrible visage is familiar. One word keeps ringing in your ears. A terrible name. When he speaks, the voice is like the slithering of snakes and the rumbling of thunder. "Even in Death you cling to insanity. May denial keep you forever, then." The siren scream splits the air. You duck and cover your ears. Turning, you scream at the scene behind you. The bedroom door bursts open. Two small bodies step into the room. Stumbling away, you nearly topple over the tan corpse that struggles to stand. Its leg wobbles as limp as its member. You yelp. Across the room, the woman with the battered head rises in the corner. Four faceless things start to walk toward you. You look to the desk to find no one there. The path to the door is blocked. The wretched family closes in. Frantically, you try to think of what to do next. You're exhausted. You can't go on. There's nothing left to do, but you cannot fathom letting those... things get to you. You're backing away. A mad dash doesn't sound too bad at this point. The bat is lying on the floor. If you can just get to that— Their black mouths split open wide. The man with the battered head lunges. Leaping back, you stagger and hear a crash. It happens so fast. The fabric you grasp for does not hold you. You're falling away, staring up at the black sky and the four faces in the broken window. The wind blasts from your chest. Everything is black. **** You aren't sure what wakes you. It takes a moment to even realize you were asleep. Blinking, you allow your eyes to adjust. Just as soon, you let your eyes close again. A few more minutes won't hurt. There's no light against your eyelids. It isn't time to get up anyway. Your hand sweeps in an arc as you search for the covers. There are no covers. You feel only grass. Your eyes open wide and you sit up straight. There's an ache in your neck that you can't quite rub out. It still hasn't really hit you yet. You turn and examine your surroundings. What you find makes you just stare in shock. You're outside. Why in the world are you outside? **** Thanks for sticking with it. Weird, I know. Just wanted to try something different. Don't forget to vote, and check out the other entries in the contest. Drop me a line and tell me what you thought if you like. I welcome it all, love or hate. Thanks again for reading.