《Amir: A Short Horror Story》


 Prologue

    The moon was out on a misty night, casting an eerie glow on the alleyway as fog blurred the surrounding area. There was a heavy feeling in the air. It seemed to press down on me as I walked slowly deeper into darkness. This is the night. The perfect conditions are in place. When there was no light that could be seen, only suffocating darkness, I reached for the backpack I brought with me. I had prepared everything correctly. I cut out a photo of my dear nephew and slept with it under my pillow. In my dream that night, I took his photo, now mysteriously framed, to this alleyway. It had been months of careful planning and studying weather patterns, but it would have been worth it if this worked. Well worth it.


    I looked around, trying to remember where I left the photo. It should be here. I looked behind a dumpster, and there it was. It was lying against the wall like another piece of trash. Like him. I clutched the photo and studied it. This was the same one I used in my dream. This could work, it was real. I couldn''t believe it. A fluttering excitement caused me to almost bounce in joy. Soon he''ll be gone, and that bitch of a mother will learn to have never left my sweet, innocent brother. Here''s your karma. I walked, or really skipped, over to the dead-end of the alley. I was barely able to see the wall in front of me. Today he finally gets what he deserves... what she deserves!


    Setting the picture down on the ground, I reached into the backpack I bought just for the occasion. I grabbed the candle, a lighter, and the piece of black chalk. I lit the candle to see. The darkness'' snatching the breath out of me. It would be unsettling if I wasn''t so ecstatic! I kneeled to the ground and drew a raven with the black chalk, but instead of a natural bird beak, I made certain to give it a smiley face. Standing back up, I looked at my work. It''s a little on the lumpy side, but it least it looks like a bird. This should work. Now for the main event.


    I took the backpack off and set it on the ground. I threw the chalk back inside and took out the pick and shovel. Now to bury you like your wretched mother will have to later. I threw the pick on the cracked pavement, on top of the bird. It made such a large clinking sound, but I could feel as if no soul would hear it. I bent backward and brought the pick forward on the crack once more, using the full force of my body. It split open a like a mini cavern and the sound rang through my head. It deafened my thoughts and soon it felt as if someone was guiding me, urging me to keep digging. I allowed it to aid me. My back was starting to ache, feeling the beginning of a crushing pain.


    I don''t know how many tries it took to reach the dirt underneath the pavement, but it''s done. I threw the pick to the side and picked up the shovel. I was sweating profusely and taking in quivering breaths. My arms shook and my back was burning, feeling like my spine could snap at any second. Nevertheless, I was urged on. I dug a hole the depth of a foot, making sure the frame could fit inside. Once I was done, I set the frame gently inside despite wanting to hurl it in there with the strength of my rage. I felt like utterly collapsing. My muscles ache and my lungs couldn''t seem to take in enough air. I kept going.Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.


    I buried the frame in the soft earth. It was true you could never fully fill the hole back. A thought finally pushed to my attention, sounding like a voice unlike my own: "One final thing to do." I nodded absentmindedly, using the pieces of concrete to create a circle around the hole. I took a deep breath as my frame shuddered under complete exhaustion. It''s time. I can feel it. I could see the sun start to rise over the horizon. I''m losing the night. I have to call him now.


    "Come here. I have a job for you, Amir," I called for him and waited. Nothing happened. "Amir, I need revenge! Don''t you care?" I was starting to lose my patience. Yet again, nothing happened. Only the call of a bird announcing the light starting to creep down the alley. "Get here right now!" My voice strained. I wanted to sleep and have that little bastard killed!


    With a rumble and a loud crack, something clawed its way up, breaking through the ground. Dirt showered the area in front of me, giving it a new coat of Earth. A claw-like hand gripped the side of the hole, and with erratic, jerky movements, Amir struggled to the surface. I couldn''t speak. He was blood-stained with new cuts on his body from the concrete. He inspected me up and down and I quivered much to my dismay.


    "Expecting me my dear?" He asked... It asked, smiling. Its voice was like two metals screeching together in wailing unison, begging to pulled away from each other. It left the feeling of hearing nails on a chalkboard. Its voice was high and distorted and cracked with nearly every word. Amir let the question to echo in the alleyway, like a haunting omen. It waited for an answer as it towered above me like a giant. I couldn''t move, I was planted to the paved ground. The look in its eyes told me it was starting to get annoyed, so it ripped the framed photo of my nephew, Jackie from the ground. The broken glass cut its claw-like fingers, and it didn''t seem to notice the blood dripping to the ground. "Is this who you want for your vengeance?" I would not speak, it was like my tongue was dead in my mouth.


    "What? Too scared to speak little girl. How pathetic are you? Coming to me to kill someone in your own family!" It taunted me, mocking me. I finally muttered a sentence.


    "That thing isn''t a part of my family," I managed to say.


    "Oh? He isn''t? Well than I bet you wouldn''t mind me," It leaned in closer to my ear, like a lover whispering sweet, gentle things to their soulmate, "Ripping him apart while he screamed, would you little girl?" It proposing me like it was offering me to buy ice cream, like the weight of those words had no toll on it. It peered down at me, still smiling. I could tell Amir was exhausting its patience.


    "N-no, I wouldn''t," I tried to sound stronger than I was even as my voice cracked. What have I done? Oh God, what have I done? It chuckled at me.


    "Liar." My scream echoed through the alley. No one came to my rescue as it lunged for me, its eyes piercing my soul like the pickaxe pierced the pavement.

 First Sighting

    Across town in the afternoon, the final school bell rung for the day releasing students to enjoy the sunshine. I walk out into the brisk, crisp wind of autumn with my friend by my side. She wasted no time, as she rarely does, in starting a conversation about the ass-kicking our teacher gave to some of the students in the last period.


    "I feel kind of bad for them. The project wasn''t that easy y''know? Don''t you think Mrs. Bass was just a little too harsh?" She asked me with that typical overwhelming sense of sympathy. She needs to be less of a people pleaser and grow up. The assignment wasn''t even hard, they were just being stupid and lazy, so now they have to face the consequences of their actions. It just happened to be through annoyed teachers and bad grades.


    "Yeah, sure," I answered, having to fight from rolling my eyes. I love her, but she needs to realize they never learn to just do their work. It''s their problem, not hers. I was already tired when I got to school this morning, and Mrs. Bass just made my day longer than it had to.


    Hannah was silent for only a moment more before she perked up to her usually bubbly self.


    "So, are we still doing our Sunday study group thing?" She beamed up at me


    "Uh, yeah? Why wouldn''t we?"


    "I don''t know, sorry."


    "What would you have to be sorry for? You did nothing wrong."


    "Sor-" She cleared her throat to stop herself. "Um, anyway, see you tomorrow!"


    "See you tomorrow." We parted ways, both living walking distance from the school but unfortunately in opposite directions.This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.


    My walk home from school wasn''t long by any means. It maybe took ten, twenty minutes tops, but that was it. It was a walk through my neighborhood. Houses in rows with clean cut lawns and dying grass. The leaves crinkled under my steps. Usually, I hear birds chirping and some rustling of trees as they flew around, but today was different. The road was oddly abandoned, even by the birds. The leaves made no sound under my feet, even the really crumpled ones. A heaviness started falling in the air onto my chest. I started to feel nervous, like I should be nervous. What do you have to be scared of? It''s just quiet today, enjoy it. Despite what I told myself, it wasn''t right. I knew I was wrong; something was wrong. I started speeding up, getting ready to turn a corner when I saw him.


    It was a man shrouded in darkness despite the cool sun showering everything with light. The longer I tried to look at him, the more dizzy I became and dark spots would form in my vision. I couldn''t make out his features, not even if he had arms, but a part of me didn''t want to get close enough to try. The only thing I knew was he was insanely tall, he must have been close to at least seven feet. He stood in the driveway of a random house I didn''t know. I felt the urge to run. Calm down, he probably lives there. You don''t know. ...No, Jackie, stop fooling yourself. He''s not normal. Get out of here.


    I sped up my pace a bit, trying to walk as fast as I could without letting off that I wanted to run. The figure didn''t move, but simply turned to face my direction as I finally turned the corner. I could feel eyes watching me as I moved out of sight. Slowly but surely the suffocating heaviness lifted, but I was still unnerved.


    I was roughly a minute from home when I felt the heaviness start to crawl its way back to me. This time I sprinted. Legs pumping and using fear as my energy, I ran until I reached the front door. I fumbled with my key, the heaviness getting closer. A sweat started to roll down my face. My hands were shaking as I finally put the right key into the lock. As I unlocked the door, I looked around, scanning for the giant man. I didn''t see him, but it was if I could feel he was near. I rushed inside, not wanting to stop and think about these feelings while I was out in the open. What is going on?


    I nearly slammed the door behind me. I was shaking and breathing like I was out of breath. My thoughts were swirling in my mind when my mom poked her head out from the kitchen.

 Aunt Kate

    "Hi honey! Did you have a good day at school?" She practically sang the words, but something was off with her too. Her eyes were red and puffy, and her smile was concealing something, trying to bury it deep inside. That something wasn''t making her happy.


    "What happened?" I asked in an urgent tone, trying to calm my rapid heart beat. I was taking in slow, deep breaths.


    "What you do mean?" She scoffed in a lighthearted way. "I just asked how your day was. Did you run home? You''re all sweaty."


    "No, something happened. You''re trying to be overly cheerful. You''re not a good liar, Mom." I paused, speaking rapidly because I kept needing to breathe. "And my day was okay, and before you ask again yes I did run home, but what happened? You can''t hide this from me." Her smile seemed to drip down and off of her face. She motioned for me to come into the kitchen to talk. Oh, this is more serious than I thought. I set my backpack down beside the door and cautiously walked into the kitchen.


    "Mom?" My voice was suddenly meek, like a nervous kid who had done something wrong. She turned to confront me.


    "Jackie, sweetie," she started and sighed. "I have something to tell you."


    "What''s wrong?" I asked once more hesitantly, confusion continuing to build.


    "Well, it''s um... It''s about your Aunt Kate." She wouldn''t continue. I could see tears in her eyes.


    "Mom," I softened my voice to try to comfort her, placing a hand on her shoulder. "What happened to Aunt Kate?"


    "She -" Her voice cracked and she had to stop for a moment. "She... um, was found d-dead in an alleyway outside of her apartment building."


    "Oh," I had to close my eyes to dull the sudden dizziness. Oh God. When I opened them up, Mom was full on crying. Tears had already stained her face. "Do the police know what happened?" I patiently waited for her to recover her voice.


    "They don''t know who killed her or why, but she was found with a mutilated body. They think it was the murderer trying to prevent her from being recognized. She was so destroyed no one could tell she was a woman until they did DNA testing. Jackie, there was blood everywhere, they needed to call in professionals for clean it. It was like something inhuman killed her. Her face looked like it was ripped off from her head and her eyes...," She trembled and embraced me. "Who would do something so cruel?" She cried in overwhelming emotional agony and bawled on my shoulder in a disgusting, wet, snotty mess of hiccups and saliva. In the moment, I abandoned everything about the figure outside. Aunt Kate doesn''t, well... didn''t prefer me or Mom after Mom and Dad got divorced. She treated me horribly, but she was, no still is family. Bile rose in my throat as imagined what her body could look like. God, who would be sick enough to do that to a human being?You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.


    We stood like that for an eternity until Mom had calmed down into small, quivering hiccups. I rubbed her back in an attempt to soothe her. By now my shoulder was wet, slimy, and desperately needed a wash. She finally looked up and pulled away, avoiding eye contact. She used a mix of paper towels, tissues, and wipes to clean herself. I left to take a quick shower. When I came back, dinner was set on the wood table and Mom was already sitting in her chair. I sat down in my seat slowly. It''s been awhile, has she calmed down enough to talk about it?


    "Mom?" I asked hesitantly. "Are you feeling okay?" Tears already started to prick at the corners of her eyes.


    "Jackie, sweety, can we just, please not talk about it right now? Let''s just enjoy dinner and forget about it," she asked in a slightly pleading manner, trying her best to sound cheerful but failing miserably as her voice cracked.


    "Mom, I don''t think you''re supposed to just forget and distance yourself from someth -"


    "I don''t give a damn about what you think right now!" She croaked, entering a coughing fit.


    An uncomfortable silence filled the room. I took a bite of my dinner to do something other than stare at the plate. It was tasteless and dry.


    "It''s delicious Mom, but I -I''m not hungry right now," I mutter. Fighting back my own tears, I take my backpack from the door and walked quickly to my room. I didn''t have the appetite to face this. I didn''t want to see her like this, and she won''t even talk to me to work it out. I have homework anyway. Mom stayed still in her place at the table absently picking at the food. It was growing cold.


    After hours of going overboard on science, I laid in my bed with head resting on my hand. I stared blankly at the ceiling as it drifted in and out of focus. My mind was numb from utter mental exhaustion. I didn''t even want to think about the figure or anything. I knew I should, but was it even there? Maybe it was, maybe it wasn''t. Honesty it was more likely it wasn''t real. Either way, all I knew was that I was hungry.

 The Beginning of Paranoia

    I didn''t know I had fallen asleep until I woke up the following morning. The alarm continued to shriek at me as I rubbed my eyes. I could tell I already looked like a mess. I smashed my hand onto the snooze button. I swiveled on my mattress and set my feet down. Instantly, they were greeted by the cold, hard floor. I stood up and shuffled my way over the bathroom like an elderly, creaky man. After closing the door behind me, I flicked the lights on and was momentarily blinded. I threw my arm up to shield my eyes and shook myself awake. What day is it again? It can''t be Saturday. My eyes adjusted, and I stared at my bags in the mirror. No, it''s Friday. I didn''t feel the sweet release from school yesterday and Hannah didn''t commend me on "making another week" like she typically does while bouncing up and down. I throw water on my face and pat it dry with the hand towel. I felt more refreshed, but when I looked up into the mirror again, I saw a tall, monstrous shadow in the corner of the bathroom behind me.


    My chest tightened and my airway squeezed shut as I felt my eyes widen. The feeling I felt from yesterday returned like a wave crashing over me. It devoured me with that horrid feeling. I felt like I was playing Cat and Mouse, except I was the weak, little rodent. It was like time slowed down. My limbs locked into place like pieces of a stone statue. I felt like I was stuck to the ground, merely staring into the mirror at the shadow in the corner. I frantically searched for something that could be there that could be making that shape. Like a shelf casting the shadow, or a towel I had left out. Just a seven-feet-tall towel. A part of me told me to stop kidding myself. Nothing would be there, because my eyes are just tricking me with a sick joke. An extremely sick joke.


    Then, the shadow opened its eyes. They looked too large for even a man that tall. They stared me down with no pupils, not blinking. They were swollen looking, at if they would burst at any moment in a spray of juices and blood. Swollen, red veins pulsed as it bored into my soul.Stolen content alert: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.


    I force myself to whirl around. As that small part of me predicted, I didn''t see the shadow. I let out a silent sigh of relief. That was dumb, of course. It wouldn''t be there. Ghosts aren''t real, dark shadows in corners aren''t real! I scolded myself for being scared of a figment of my imagination. Still, I couldn''t ignore the small voice in the back of my head telling me that it doesn''t add up. How does passing it off as a figment of my imagination explain the familiar feeling I felt from that figure yesterday.


    I felt the need to hold myself as if it would protect me. It was like believing as a kid if you covered your head with the blankets at bedtime, you would be protected from the monster under your bed. However this time, despite what I told myself, the monster felt real. It felt like how someone can tell when someone''s staring at you. It felt like it was studying me, sizing me up. I had panicked. I was frozen. If it had been real, I would have been dead.


    I finished the rest of my morning routine in a sort of frazzled state of mind. I felt like a walking zombie: a machine of flesh with no sense of reality. As I laid back on the couch waiting for the right time to leave, Mom came out from her bedroom. She quickly walked through the living room where I was into the kitchen, noticeably avoiding eye contact with me. I watched her as she grabbed something from the fridge and started to speed walk back to her room. You can''t pretend I don''t exist.


    "Mom?" I asked, the words sounding like a distant echo from far away. She didn''t seem to hear me. "Mom, can I stay home from school? I don''t feel well," and she shook her head while speeding up. Can we please not do this? Why won''t you talk to me? Please! I started sitting up to get ready to go and talk her, but she closed the door to her bedroom without any acknowledgement.


    I got up and walked over to the door. I knocked once, twice, thrice, with no answer. I didn''t hear any movement from inside. I pressed my head up against the door and checked my phone defeated. It was time to go anyway.


    "I''ll go to school anyway, so I''ll leave now... Love you Mom," I nearly whispered through the door, like a wall separating us that seemed to be just as emotional as it was physical. As I walked away, I couldn''t help but hear soft, feeble cries coming from behind that closed door.

 A Comforting Friend

    As I exited the front door, I let out a shaky breath and locked it behind me. I started walking to school, taking in the chilly morning. As I walked, a took out my earbuds to drown out the sounds of the world waking up. It was almost a comfort to be alone right now, but I knew I needed to talk to Mom. Part of me wanted to say she was overreacting. She had more important things to do rather than cry in her room all day over someone who despised all of us. The other part of me wanted to understand what she was going through. I never talked to Aunt Kate after Mom and Dad divorced. Even when I did talk to her, she would order me around to get things for her or to do her chores for her. When I asked Mom why she would treat me like her little slave, Mom would order me to be quiet and not disrespect someone in need. Mom really cared for Aunt Kate, despite how Kate treated everyone. To be honest, I just wanted her to get her lazy ass a job and to stop living with my parents. When they split, I wanted to blame it on her, but it was even more frustrating when she really had nothing to do with their breakup. She would try to be nice and caring but the minute I would make a small, insignificant mess, she would blow up with no warning. Like a supposedly dormant volcano erupting. She would praise me, tell me sweet things, but then verbally degrade me out of sight from my Mom when the ice in her drink would melt. Mom would worship her, or that''s what I thought. Dad wouldn''t say anything about it, even if he saw her scream at me. She was so controlling, but in all honesty, I''m relieved I''ll never have to deal with her again. I know it isn''t valid to be happy someone''s dead, but I am, slightly at least. I''m a horrible person, aren''t I?


    It was when I saw Hannah waiting for me in front of the school that I realized I never turned any music on. My earbuds weren''t even connected to my phone. I put them away slightly disappointed I just spent my walk alone thinking about my horrible Aunt. Still, who would want to kill her, and if she was as mutilated as Mom said...


    "Hey, Jackie! How''s it going?" She cut my thought short and greeted me with a beaming grin on her face like the world was utterly perfect. If only I had that optimism.This narrative has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. If you see it on Amazon, please report it.


    "Hey Hannah, it''s going okay," I told her, trying to sound like it was another average day. I don''t want her to know, at least not now. I trust her, but not now.


    "Are you sure?" She furrowed her eyebrows at me. You can''t be upset around her; she''ll never fail to notice.


    "Yeah, I just didn''t sleep well last night," I faked a small yawn. Technically, I wasn''t lying to her. I was tossing and turning last night after what happened. At least the bags under my eyes were doing something good for once.


    "Aw, I''m sorry." She didn''t look completely convinced, but let it go.


    "What do you have to be sorry for? You didn''t keep me from sleeping."


    "Uh-okay! Well, I hope you feel better, but look! My dress has pockets!" She giggled like a schoolgirl while stuffing her hands in the pockets of her dress to demonstrate for me. I had to smile at least a little, I couldn''t hold it in. She''s just so goofy.


    "Yes, they''re pockets, what are you going to hide in there?"


    "Kittens." She declared very seriously while a twinkle flashed in her eye, like a young child. The kind of serious you simply can''t take seriously.


    "Kittens? How are you going to hide them during school?"


    "I''ll get someone to help me!"


    "And if they won''t?" My faint smile widened as I interrogated her.


    "I don''t know..." She said in a small voice, starting to laugh in this nervous way she does. It''s like she realizes what she''s said is funny, but at the same time doesn''t know if she should laugh about it. I can always rely on her to make my day better. Suddenly, she gasps dramatically.


    "What?" I asked, amused.


    "I can make you help me!"


    "How will you make me help you smuggle kittens into school?"


    "Blackmail."


    "What blackmail?" I scoffed.


    "I''ll get some." I laughed out loud and caused some people''s heads to turn as we walked down the hallway.


    "How?" This made her stop short just as she was about to respond, her finger up and mouth opened. She started laughing and so did I. "Come on, we''ll be late for class if we don''t hurry."

 In the Bathroom

    "Jackie," Mrs. Bass called on me to answer a question on the board, ignoring the other kids with their hands up. I had to hide my annoyance. My hand wasn''t even raised.


    "Well, the US government increased spending on math and science education and research in reaction to -" I started to give my answer, but a weight crushed down on my lungs. It left them flattened and made it hard to breathe. The oppressive feeling intensified as a shadowy black mist came from the walls and gathered itself into the figure behind Mrs. Bass. He placed his hand on her shoulder, but she didn''t notice. I felt dazed and saw her lips move, but I couldn''t hear her. I looked at his hand. It looked like he had claws like the Wolverine, but the closer I looked, the more his hand resembled someone who sharpened his fingers into sharp bone. It was naked, jagged bone made into dagger-like points. They were bloody, and I could see his muscle and veins start to lead into the surviving skin farther up his fingers in ripped, jagged chunks. It caused a jagged line leading into his arm. The skin itself was black and molded, as if it was flaking off of his arm in patches. I had to placed a hand over my mouth to keep from gagging. The putrid smell of rotting flesh attacked my nose. I couldn''t imagine the pain that could be causing.


    "Mr. Hanson!" Mrs. Bass shouted. I blinked and he was gone. I was left with the eyes of my classmates staring at me. It was like I was a zoo exhibit for them. I cleared my throat.


    "Y-yes ma''am?" I need to get therapy or something. I don''t understand why I see this weird man. He can''t be real. It''s called schizophrenia, right?


    "Jackie, are you feeling alright? Do you need to go to the nurse?"


    "No ma''am, I''m fine now."


    "Are you sure?"


    "Yes ma''am, the answer is the launching of Sputnik." She nodded, but her lips were pursed in a tight, worried line and her eyebrows were furrowed. You and me both. I saw Hannah out of the corner of my eye looking at me like she wanted to help. Honestly, I don''t think a dress with pockets, yet adorable, will help me with this problem. What plays into my mind physiologically that could lead to the creation of that man, let alone that episode with the hand, needs professional help.


    "That is correct Mr. Hanson." I raised my hand as the heaviness start to fade away. "Now class - yes Jackie?"


    "Um, may I go to the bathroom?"


    "Mr. Hanson, are you sure you''re alright?"


    "Yes ma''am, I am."


    "Take the pass and get back quickly."


    "Yes ma''am." When I got up, I could feel I was the class'' center of attention. Their beady little eyes staring into me, digging into the center of my being just to judge me. They were asking questions, giving fake answers. Their eyes ensnared me in their gaze. The only way to escape was to leave, so I swiftly grabbed the pass and got out of there.This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.


    I went to the bathroom and splashed some of the school sink water onto my face multiple times in an effort to clear my head. After drying myself off with a coarse paper towel, I looked at myself in the mirror. I looked deranged. Then suddenly without a warning, the heaviness crashed onto me so quickly I physically crumpled a little bit. In the mirror I saw him, again. His too-large eyes staring at me. Who is he? What does he want? I pleaded with him silently as it loomed over me. It''s okay, it''s all fake. I''m just going through something right now, right? Then he spoke, and my breath caught in my throat.


    "Good afternoon Jackie," his screeching metal-sounding voice made me flinch and I fell to the floor. I wanted to cover my ears, because they felt so close to bleeding.


    "What are you? You can''t be real," I gasped. It giggled at me. He had Hannah''s laugh, but twisted and dripping with malice. It was the exact opposite of my Hannah.


    "Oh, I believe I am very real." I tried to make out his features, but I couldn''t even see his hands. How can he be real? No one noticed him in the classroom. This isn''t real. I''m having a fever dream.


    "W-who are you?"


    "I''m the one who killed your bitch of an aunt." The descriptions of her corpse Mom gave me flashed through my mind. "...Her face looked like it was ripped off from her head and her eyes..." I felt like hurling.


    "Wh-why are you here?" I couldn''t help but tremble. I feel so weak and useless.


    "Oh, you wouldn''t know, would you?" He chuckled again. "Her last wish before I ripped her to shreds was for me to kill you, too." I froze, my breath caught in my throat. She wouldn''t... "It was, I believe her exact words were ''That things isn''t a part of my family.''" I let out a choked cough, becoming drenched in sweat. It felt I had to gasp for every breath, like it was choke hold and I was turning blue.


    I looked up at it with fearful eyes, but it was gone. Someone opened the door; it was Chad from class. He was one of the kids who got yelled at yesterday.


    "Hey man, you okay? Mrs. Bass sent me to check on you," he examined me up and down.


    "Yeah, I''m alright now. I just don''t feel well," he helped me up. I''m going to die, and my aunt wanted me to die. She disposed me that much. How could a person hate someone that much?


    "You look like it. Anyway, can you come back to class now?"


    "Yeah, yeah. Let''s go," I followed him out of the bathroom back to class. People were working on some kind of worksheet, and Mrs. Bass had her arms crossed.


    "Mr. Hanson, I''ll ask you one last time. Do you feel alright?" Her tone told me she was done playing.


    "I-uh, no ma''am. I do not."


    "Thank you for finally being honest with me, but you should have told me earlier. The school day is about to en -"


    The sound of the releasing bell rang through the school. A signal to let kids out to go home.


    "Jackie, go home and get rest. Don''t worry about the school work you missed, you can make it up later," she murmured to me before walking away to help with a student who was confused with the worksheet. I shuffled over to my desk and packed my bookbag. I''m going to die. Hannah met me outside of the door.


    "I''m sorry you don''t feel well Jackie. If you can''t come to the Sunday study, I understand. You need to feel better," she sympathized again. I nodded.


    "Thank you Hannah. If I feel better enough I''ll make sure to smuggle the kittens with you, even if you don''t have blackmail," I gave her a slight smile. She seemed to take it as reassurance and giggled. That''s the laughter I know. It sounds so much softer and innocent, like a brilliant, radiant day.

 Loneliness in Disbelief

    Outside of the school, we said our goodbyes and I headed for home. I didn''t put in my earbuds. I needed to clear my head, because it was still stuffy and foggy. What do I do? How do I get help? I need to tell Mom or will she think I''m crazy? Would it hurt to try at this point? I''ll die anyway. Oh my God I''m going to die!


    Tears flowed down my cheeks as I felt pressure build in my mind pushing against my skull. I was starting to get a headache. I can''t handle this. I''m too young to die! I wanted to go to college, get a job, have a family. I feel so weak, so useless. How could my stupid aunt have done this to me? What did I do that was so horrible? I did everything she wanted. I tried to make her happy, but she didn''t try to make me happy! Guess what? I''m happy she''s dead. I''m happy!


    I sight him out of the corner of my eye following me home. My lungs started collapsing only to be stretched out again too quickly while my heartbeat sped up. When is he going to kill me? Why is this real? How is this real? Is there still a chance that it''s a figment of my imagination? Please, God is there? Will I wake up tomorrow with my life ahead of me? If I die, what will happen to Mom, Dad, and to Hannah..? If only I had done more with my life, tried more things, done more to help me. I should have been a better person. Please, God give me a way to live!


    He was still there, waiting on the corner as I entered my home. Will this be my final resting place? I don''t bother unpacking anything. I don''t bother trying to talk to Mom. I just go upstairs, sit on my bed, and pull out my phone. I start to text Hannah:


    Jackie: Hey


    Smolchild: Hiii. Do you feel better?


    Jackie: Not really, but I have a question.


    Smolchild: What?


    Jackie: Is it normal to see demons?


    Smolchild: Nooo? Why?


    Jackie: I think I have one following me around.


    Smolchild: XD


    Jackie: I''m serious. What do I do?


    Smolchild: I owuld tell your mom


    Smolchild: *would


    Jackie: What if she doesn''t believe me?


    Smolchild: It can''t hurt to try. If you''re serious about this, she has to know.


    Stolen novel; please report.


    Jackie: Ok. That makes sense. Thanks Hannah


    Smolchild: No prob Bob


    Jackie: Maybe see you Sunday.


    Smolchild: Maybe see you Sunday.


    I set my phone down and flop backwards onto the bed. I should tell Mom. Maybe she''ll give me a therapist, and I can find out if this is all real or not. It should be fake. Demons don''t exist in the real world or whatever he is. I''m just jumping to conclusions. It''s probably fake, I mean a fake vision of something would say it''s real, right? I head downstairs to find Mom on the couch. I sit down on the other end.


    "Hey Mom?" I ask.


    "Yes, Jackie?" She answers, her voice was more calm yet soft and timid. At least now she''s answering me.


    "I think I need a therapist." She scoffed in a lighthearted way, turning to look at me with a joking face.


    "And why would you need a therapist?"


    "I''m seeing a demon or something. I don''t know what it is." She laughed out loud. As nice as it was to see her smile after so long, I was serious.


    "I mean it. I want to get rid of it. It''s threatening my life now." I turn to face her, and she became solemn, her worry lines creasing on her face. She shifted on the couch, turning to face me.


    "Well, um, are you sure you''re seeing a demon? Jackie, do you hear yourself? You said you didn''t know what it was!"


    "Yes! I''m serious! I don''t know what it is, but it scares me."


    "Okay, okay calm down. What else has this demon, or whatever, said to you?"


    "Well..."


    "Now I''m serious! What else has it said? I can''t help you unless you say something."


    "It said... it said it was the one who killed Aunt Kate."


    The room seemed to stop short, in a still calm. It was like the bright, sunny, clear skies right before a hurricane.


    "Do you think her death is some kind of joke?" Her tone of voice became slightly threatening.


    "What? No! You told me to tell you what else it said and I told you!"


    "A demon you saw the day after your Aunt''s death told you that? A demon that probably doesn''t exist? Are you kidding me? You saw a demon?"


    "Yes! Then it said it was going to kill me next!"


    "..."


    "Mom?"


    "Go to your room. I cannot believe you right now."


    "What? Why? Mom, I need help!"


    "Your sick joke isn''t funny anymore Jackie, now go to your room!" Her voice raised to nearly a shout.


    "I''m serious! Mom, please!" I wanted to get on my knees and beg. I felt tears welling up behind my eyes.


    "Now!"


    I left the living room feeling betrayed and ashamed. Betrayed that my mother wouldn''t believe me, but ashamed at how it does seem like a huge, sick joke. It does seem fake. It might be! I sit in my desk chair and turn on my computer. When I was about to get on the internet, I felt a bony hand rest on my shoulder. Hot, ragged breath fan the back on my ear and fall on my throat.


    "Who would you think would believe you Jackie?" His voice screaked in my ear at the heaviness settled like a cat on my chest, cute and potentially deadly at the same time. He laughed like he saw an adorable kid announce something equally adorable. "I couldn''t exist, right?" I couldn''t say anything, yet again I was frozen and powerless. His voiced sent chills down my spine and made me shudder. It seemed to crawl up my back and rest on my neck, adding weight and pinning me down.


    "You have a weak mother Jackie. She locks herself in her room and ignores her only son who is feeling sick. She refuses to talk to him. She didn''t notice how your Auntie Kate was treating you. That must have been confusing, conflicting as a child. She worshiped your Aunt, but didn''t pay any attention to Jackie. Hey, I mean, at least she''s not as weak as your pathetic father. He watched it all happen and didn''t say anything to save you. He let it happen. Face it, Jackie, no one will help you. Better count your blessings." His voice faded away, patting my shoulder in an empathetic way while digging his fingers into my shoulder, drawing blood before leaving. The blood soaked into my shirt, leaving a big red stain. I watched a red drop trickle down my forearm in horror. I desperately wanted to be mentally sick. I''d rather have schizophrenia. Please let this be all in my head.


    When the heavy feeling disappeared completely, I went into my bathroom to clean my shoulder. It stung, but at this point the pain only reminded me that I was alive. Once it was clean, I did a crappy job of wrapping it in medical tape. It was already bleeding through. I washed my hands and cleaned my sweaty face. Then, I went online.

 Sliver of Hope

    If demons exist, I can''t be the only one who knows about it. I searched for any expert on this to help me, and surprisingly, many websites advertising black magic experts popped up. I didn''t even know where to start, most of these people looked sketchy. Some even advertised voodoo dolls. I shuddered, imagining if those actually worked. At this point, they could. After hours of searching and scrolling, I found this one, purple Black Magic Expert''s website with a guy near my area. Usually, I would say it''s all a bunch of bull, but this is real now.


    There were a bunch of other websites like his, but the others turned out to be either jokes or frauds. I needed the real deal, this person seemed to be serious. Besides, if this is all true and I die - I choked mid-thought - at least I would have tried something, right? I''d take a chance at life even with certain death. The panic like a sheep in front of a famished wolf started to well up in me at the thought of dying, but I had to quiet it. If I panic, I don''t do anything. I''ll die anyway, this happens to be sooner. Oh God, that''s morbid, but if I panic I will die.


    Shakily, I call the number on his website. After three rings, someone picked up.


    "Yello?" A gruff voice answered.


    "Hello? Is this Abe Johnson? The, um, Black Magic Expert?"


    "Speaking, but if this is a prank kid then I''m -"Unauthorized use of content: if you find this story on Amazon, report the violation.


    "It''s not, I swear."


    "Alright, then what''s your situation?"


    "I have what I believe to be a demon following me."


    "A demon?"


    "Yes sir." I had to laugh. "It makes me sound crazy, huh?"


    "We''re all a little mad, it''s fine. Did the demon say it''s name?"


    "N-no sir."


    "Did you see was it looks like?"


    "No, it was just a 7-feet-tall figure surrounded in darkness. The only thing I saw was its hand."


    "Can you describe it?"


    "It was like the demon carved its own fingers to sharpen the bone. It''s really nasty. The skin was blackened as if it was charred as well."


    "I see, when do ya want to kill it?"


    "You can do that?"


    "No, I''m not really a Black Magic Expert."


    "Oh, I''m s-sorry for bothering you?"


    "Come on, did you even read the website? Yes, I can kill it!"


    "I-I''m sorry."


    "Look," the phone sighed. "What''s your name kid?"


    "It''s Jackie, Jackie Hanson."


    "Alright. Jackie, when you want this thing to be killed?"


    "As soon as possible, please."


    "How ''bout tomorrow?"


    "Yes, that works."


    "Well, do ya want to give me the address to meet ya at?


    "Oh, yes. We can meet at my home. It''ll be best to plan there anyway."


    "Alright, that''s fine kid, just tell me the address."


    "O-Okay, it''s 435 Silver Hike Ct. We live in the same area."


    "Got it, see you tomorrow. Don''t die. I''ll be in a red Ford Pickup."


    "Okay, thank you so much. How much do I owe you?"


    "You can pay me when it''s dead, now get some sleep. We have a long day tomorrow."


    "Thank you, goodbye."


    "Bye."


    I let out a sigh of relief and leaned back in my chair. After a moment, I stand up and plug in my phone. I then get ready for bed. Under my covers I drift off into a dreamless, empty sleep.

 Abe

    The following morning I wake up to a car honking in the driveway. I check through my blinds on the window and see a Ford Pickup.


    "Oh shoot he''s here!" I stumbled back and nearly fall over.


    Frantically, I rush to get ready. I throw on a shirt and pants and run my fingers through my hair. I stumble downstairs and fling open the front door to go talk to Abe. A man I assume to be him is leaning on the pickup with a duffel bag hanging on his shoulder.


    "Abe?" I asked hesitantly.


    "Yep. Jackie, I presume?" He asked.


    "Yes sir."


    "Oh don''t ''Sir'' me. I hate that bullcrap. Just call me Abe."


    "Okay, um, Abe."


    "Shall we go inside?"


    "Yes si-Abe."


    Abe was barely taller than me. He had rusty-colored scruffy hair and pale, green eyes. His mouth was set in a way that seemed like he always scowled at something. He wasn''t muscular, but he wasn''t overweight either. His clothing style reminded me of a farmer slightly, but it tried to look like it was from the city. Together, we went inside. On the kitchen counter, I saw a note Mom left me. I read it:Support the creativity of authors by visiting Royal Road for this novel and more.


    "Hey Jackie. Today I thought I would go out and calm down. Though I don''t appreciate the joke you played, I''ll be there to talk it out. Just not today, okay sweetie? I''m sorry I couldn''t tell you in person, but you wouldn''t wake up. Anyway, I''ll be home by nightfall. Love you, Mom."


    "She''s weak," his words echoed in my mind. She may have left, but this means she won''t see Abe. Is this a sign I''ll live? She won''t be here to stop me, so maybe this means I''ll be okay...


    "Eish, did ya tell her about the demon?"


    "Yeah..." I recalled our fight and cringed.


    "Why?"


    "It told me it was going to kill me, and that it killed my obnoxious aunt. My mother admired that aunt for some reason a lot."


    "So it''s already struck, I''m sorry for your loss." I shook my head.


    "Don''t be, she didn''t love me and I didn''t like her. The demon had told me her last wish before she was killed was I would die too."


    "Wait, where was your aunt found?"


    "In an alleyway with a corpse so mutilated they needed a DNA test just to see who it was."


    "I know the type of demon we''re dealing with now."


    "What? What type?"


    "The kind of demon who will be annoying to try to kill off."


    Before I could respond, Abe puts his bag on the table and takes out a broad sheet of paper. Seizing a pencil, he motioned for me to come over.


    "Now look kid, do you think you can call this thing to you? Even if it''s to slaughter you, can you coax it over here in a timely manner?"


    "I d-don''t know, I can try... it probably will." I wanted to sound more sure of myself that I was, but I was so much more frazzled that I was stumbling nearly every sentence I spoke. What''s wrong with me?


    "Good enough, now we have to make a plan. The basic idea is you bring it over here, and then I''ll kill it, but we need to be coordinated enough to know what''s happening when."


    "What if we don''t, what if the plan fails?" Abe turned back up from his paper to look me dead in the eyes. Under his gaze I wanted to shrink until I was a little mouse and could scurry away. Away to a safe place, but nowhere is for me.


    "Then you better pray there''s a big guy up there to meet us, because we won''t be needed on Earth anymore."


    "Oh..." I swallowed hard again. Not only am I risking my life, but he''s risking his. At least with me I''d die anyway. How does he do this?


    "So, let''s get started, shall we?" Abe clapped his hands and let me view his sketch.

 A Plan and a Remorseful Goodbye

    It had been practically noon before we managed to arrange a certain plan laid out in front of us. It was short and relatively simple, but for some reason it took so long to form it. Abe thought it would work so I felt slightly secure with it. The plan was for me to lure the demon to me in my room by taunting him. If he wanted me dead, he would''ve already killed me. I can''t believe I''m doing this. This can''t be real. How can this be rea- No! Stop it! The blood on my shoulder proves it''s real; you have to accept it or die now! I touched the wound while reviewing the plan, the blood moving around under the bandage in lumps. It was oozy like mucus while also being dried and cracking around the edges. I winced at the pain.


    After I had the demon with me in my room, Abe would come from his hiding spot in the bathroom and kill him. If it all goes well, I''ll have a chance to live. If it doesn''t, I will help an innocent man to his death. I can''t mess this up. I have to get myself together, but why is this stranger helping me?


    "Heya, kid," Abe walks up from behind me and I nearly jumped turning around. He gave me a look that made me feel like a freak. It was as if he was concerned, but didn''t want to touch me.


    "Y-yeah? Abe?" I could tell I looked like a disgusting lab rat to him.


    "Yeesh are ya always this jumpy?"


    "Honestly, n-no." His expression clicked into surprise. I stared back at him, starting to panic. "W-what?"


    "What happened to yer shoulder?" He shifted the subject, gestured to the bandage. "I didn''t seem ta notice it when I met ya."


    "Yeah, the demon got me. It''s how I realized he''s real." I scoffed like I was confessing my belief in Santa Claus. That demon isn''t Santa. He''s real. Abe inspected the wound a bit while closing one eye. "I-is there something you w-want to tell me?"


    "Yep, that''s a doozy right there, and you said its fingers were like sharpened bones?" He leaned away, avoiding it yet again. Fine, creep.


    "Its fingers weren''t like sharpened bones; they were. His fingertips looked like they were shaved down to the bone, and then he sharpened them into these spike-like points." Abe nodded, thoughtful.


    "Do ya remember anything else about his hands?"


    "I could see his blackened flesh slowly lead to bone. It was dried blood, ripped muscle that somehow managed to still move the joint and veins. When I saw it, I wanted to hurl, and the smell." I shuddered. Abe was silent for a long moment before nodding. What are you thinking? Is it important? I should know! Stop keeping secrets when I could die!


    "Look, ah, kid. If this doesn''t go well, you need to set your affairs in order. Call your Mom or whatever friends you have." He looked me dead in the eyes. "Just be prepared for the worst." I gulped, and he walked away to sit on the couch.


    "How do you do this? Hunting demons?" Abe sighed.


    "Kid, as nice as you seem, I don''t want to share that bit of information with ya. Let''s stick with I just do, okay? You''re a good kid, Jackie. I can tell." He patted me on the back. "Still, there''s always a chance this will go wrong, terribly wrong. If it does, both of us won''t see tomorrow."


    He''s right. I need to tell Mom and Hannah I love them. I may never see my best friend''s goofy smile anymore. I may never hear my mother''s bell-like laugh that reminded me of Christmas. I walked upstairs to get my phone. I may never talk to Hannah about smuggling kittens into school, never go to the cafe for our study group and see her get something on her face. I may never see my goofball again, and the last time she saw me she was telling me to get better. I''ll never be capable to tell her how much she meant to me. How much her smile could light up a room without even trying, how it would light up my day even if I slept crappily the night before. I laughed remembering when she managed to get whipped cream on her notebook. She leaned over the table to show me something, but all she had to do was tell me. She didn''t notice until I told her after the study session was over. We were going to be best friends forever, and now there''s a good, realistic chance we can''t. She''ll move on to someone else and forget about me. Not recognize my name when it''s said. We were going to college together.


    Oh God, college. I was working so hard to get a scholarship to help Mom with tuition that I forgot to have fun. I forgot to live, because I took my tomorrow for granted. I just thought I could make it up to everyone later once I was successful, but would have I ever been successful? I could have just kept working and put off my relationships for meaningless success in the wrong areas of my life. By the time I was done, I''d be in retirement and Hannah may not even talk to me from how far I would have pushed her away. We were friends since the fourth grade, instant BFFs. In the eighth grade we promised each other we would work to attend the same college together. A part of me wanted to be more than just BFFs, but I new she would just be oblivious to it. I scoffed with a reminiscent smile. My eyes were burning, and I started thinking about the best thing that ever happened to me, my mom.This tale has been unlawfully lifted without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.


    I promised her I would go to college. I promised her grandchildren so she could spoil them like "The princes or princesses they''ll be," as she put it. She would tease me about marrying Hannah, and even though I didn''t have any other close friends, she still supported me. I remember how she''d pick me up when I fell down like a doofus, and when she''d care for me even when she was sick. I remember how she promised to always be there for me when she and dad divorced, and she would sing me lullabies when I was younger to help me sleep after a traumatic day with Aunt Kate. The demon may call her weak and too sensitive, but I call her passionate and the most caring woman on the Lord''s planet. If anyone had a different opinion I would take them down. She would take care of me, and I promised to take care of her when she couldn''t anymore. If I die, who will be there for her?


    Tears already blurred my vision a long time ago and left stains on my cheeks and pants. They flowed in their mini rivers down my face as I looked up to the ceiling. I should call Hannah now.


    I wiped my phone screen off on my pants and dialed her number. She picked up on the first ring.


    "Hi Jackie! Are you feeling okay now?" She seemed to scream into the phone. Usually, I would hold it away due to the volume of her voice, but I didn''t. Right now it was music to my ears.


    "Hey Hannah, um, no I still don''t feel well. I-" My voice was groggy and scratchy from crying.


    "Do you want me to come over? I can make soup!" She sounded so giddy as if she was ready to bombard me with blankets, soup, and movies galore. I love how over enthusiastic she is.


    "No, I don''t want to you sick, too."


    "Aww, but then I could miss school!" I couldn''t help but chuckle despite how much it hurt.


    "No, you shouldn''t skip school. Listen, I just wanted to call to say I love you, as a friend."


    "Well of course you do you dodo. I love you too, duh!" She giggled. I smiled.


    "Hey, if anything happens to me, just know I love you okay? I had to tell you."


    "What? Jackie, are you okay? What''s happening?" Her laugh became more of an awkward, dying chuckle.


    "Nothing, I just wanted to let you know, you know?" I tried covering it up, if she was worried, there''d be no stopping her from racing over here.


    "Jackie, I''m serious! Do I need to come over? Do you need to go to the hospital?" Her concern turned into panic.


    "No! No, it''s fine. It''ll be okay. I''ll be okay. I don''t need to go to the hospital." I laughed at the end. Please believe me, the last thing I want for you is for you to be scared for me. The phone was silent for a long time.


    "Okay Jackie, I believe you, but now you have to smuggle kittens with me." I could hear a faint giggle that followed her words like an echo. "Just please be okay, okay? If something happens, I''m coming over. Don''t forget to tell me if something bad happens, promise me!"


    "I will, I promise." The words sat in my mouth like dead weights. Lord please don''t let this be an empty promise.


    I hung up and stared at the phone a bit. I felt emotionally drained. I don''t want to call Mom, but there''s no way I can let this go. I have to at least try to say I love her. She has to know from me. I shook my head in an attempt to clear the drained feeling and called Mom.


    The phone rang once, twice, three times, four, five, and went to her voicemail message. Does she still not want to talk to me? I have to say something regardless. When the beep sound came, I wasted no time.


    "Hey Mom, I just wanted to say I love you and that I hope you''re having a good day out. I... um," I had to pause to keep my voice from cracking. "I wanted to say I was sorry. Sor-"


    "Thank you for your call," the automated messaging system cut me off. I thought about trying to call again or to leave another message, but I couldn''t bring myself to do it. I should go back to Abe now.


    I walk back downstairs and head into the living room. There I find Abe with one of my kitchen knives, but it was glowing slightly. What?


    "Um," I start, confused. He turned around.


    "Yeah, sorry ''bout using one of yer knives, but I''ve enchanted it to kill yer demon with voodoo magic... and stuff," he said, embarrassed. He looked like he was caught and making an excuse for stealing a cookie. A knife cookie. I laughed out loud and hard. I bent down in a fit of giggles, despite my throat. Why is that so funny to me? Through my hyena laughter, I could hear Abe chuckling a little bit more conservatively. More like he''s laughing like he''s sane, Jackie. I let everything out, even the horrible, nastiness pent up in me through laughter. I howled and chuckled, and it was the best I''ve felt in a long time. After what felt like hours, I finally calmed down.


    "I-," I cut myself off while trying to keep from erupting into laughter again. "It''s fine, no worries. It actually looks better like that, I guess." I snorted and got to hear Abe laugh. "How did you enchant it?"


    "It''s a secret," he winked. "A magician never discloses his secrets, right?"


    "Right, right." A smile was still on my face, and for some reason I felt content.


    "Anywho, Jackie. Did ya inform the people you love that you love them?"


    My smile dripped off of my face and dropped on the floor. I nodded solemnly, no longer feeling the need to laugh.


    "How''d it go?"


    "Hannah, my close friend, was extremely concerned. She started to panic and I had to tell her it would be okay. My Mom didn''t even answer the phone so I had to leave a voicemail."


    "That''s it?"


    "Yeah, I''m not a social child." I scoffed, trying to bring in what humor I could. I inwardly cringed when Abe didn''t react.


    "No, no, it''s fine, it was just concerned b''cause you were upstairs fer a long time." Abe cleared his throat. "Look, kid. If this goes well like it should, they''ll understand. It can be okay." I nodded, noting how he said it can be okay rather than merely saying we''ll be Gucci or something.


    "Yeah, thanks Abe."


    "No problem, are you ready kid?"


    "Can I really be?"


    "Fair enough let''s go." He escorted me upstairs. Honestly, how could this have worked out so well with the demon popping in on me? It couldn''t be because of Abe, because he was there with Mrs. Bass.

 It Would Have Never Worked

    Abe opened the door to the bathroom down the hall from my room and stepped inside. He turned around to face me.


    "Remember the plan?" He asked me, keeping his voice low.


    "Yes," I answered, having it run through my mind again. I call tall, scary guy, don''t die, and Abe kills it the end. "But make sure as soon as this is over, you need to leave. My mom can''t know you were here."


    "What? No after party?" He offered me a smile. I had to laugh and shrug. "Go call him."


    I enter my room. Shaking despite Abe''s attempt at humor, I open my mouth to try to address the demon. Without uttering a word, the heaviness flattens me and knocks the wind out of my lungs. Through what feels like an impenetrable fog, I hear cries of surprise and crashing coming from the bathroom.


    "Abe!" I shout, panic spreading inside of me like wildfire. "Abe! No-!"


    Something is being slammed onto a rigid surface repeatedly. Something soft, something human, followed by screams of pain. A cracking sound echoed out in waves like nausea. I thought it was over when it went silent. Please let it be Abe. God, please!This narrative has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. If you see it on Amazon, please report it.


    "Abe?" I called out hesitantly. Please let it be Abe. God, please! "Abe are you-?"


    SQUELSH


    The screaming stopped. The crashing stopped. The fighting ceased. I gagged, feeling like fainting. He barely had a chance against that thing. Oh God, Abe! How could this happen? Lord, please protect my Mom and Hannah. You know they mean everything to me. The lanky, shadowy figure stomped into the room, or rather limped. Abe didn''t go down without a fight, but it wasn''t enough.


    "Don''t worry about your crappy mother seeing Abe, I''ll haul him away and no one will know what happened to him," he spoke those horrid words as if they were comforting to me.


    "You fucking monster! You took an innocent man who had nothing to do with you! A friend!" I was suddenly filled with rage, and it felt good. I wanted to let everything out at this horrible, disgusting being that dared to touch my family! "Don''t you dare call my mother crappy! She is the best woman to exist on the planet!" Out of the shadows, he wagged his finger, taunting me.


    "Dear Jackie, Abe was trying to kill me, and you asked him to. Do you really think so little of me? Don''t think I didn''t overhear you two devise your plan against me."


    I froze, my rage melting away to reveal my overwhelming panic. I knew something was wrong. I knew it, and I went through with the plan anyway. I helped slaughter a man.


    It started walking towards me, and I started backing up. I fell backwards onto my bed. Shit! He came closer, towering above me and I started to feel tears stream down my face. I don''t want to die!

 The Monster

    The shadows dissipated around him to reveal a monster. His body was blackened like it was burned, decayed, and the skin looked like it was flaking off. His limbs, neck, and stomach looked like they were twisted all the way around like springs. The bones poking at his joints. His veins were bulging, stressed by the body shape and poking up nearly out of the skin. His feet were blackened stumps, missing some toes. The remaining ones had talon-like nails that lifted up off of the toes themselves when he walked. When they pressed against the floor, they revealed the gnarled skin under the nail and showed where they were barely hanging on. His entire frame was lanky, crushed looking, and yet agile. He had no visible muscles, but looked like he could destroy anything.


    His skin stretched, threatening to tear open and burst at any second, like a rubber band being pulled apart to the brink of splitting. His skin was coarse and raw like weathered old leather. It was pulled across his cheek bones, the sides of his mouth looking hollowed out. His right ear was missing with just a hole in his head surrounded by dry, cracking blood and ripped looking skin that never healed. His left had a rip in it from who knows what. His nose was bent out of shape, in a jagged twist to the right.


    His knees were busted in, providing him goat-like legs where the bones on his calves poked out. They looked as if they were almost separate from his thighs. His right thigh had a section where you could see the muscle being torn, like parts of the rest of his body. He bore scars of previous fights all over his body. If you looked close enough you could see the pink where the skin was trying to heal itself only to be split apart again. The only things I noticed I liked were the cuts from the knife cookie Abe used.A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.


    He looked at me, leaning in, his breath more rancid than the smell of death itself. In his mouth he didn''t possess the razor-sharp, clean teeth that would glow a ghostly white in the darkness. Instead, his teeth were disgusting. They were yellow, broken, and cracked. One of them was almost completely gone, and his bloody gums were starting to grow over it. He had a large overbite due to the jaw line of his bird-like face, his upper teeth digging bloody holes into his lower gums. It looked excruciating, but I could see in his eyes that he enjoyed the pain he received, thrived off of it. He cracked a smile at me, like greeting an old friend. We made eye contact while he stared down at me, his hollowed out eyes like soul-sucking pits dragging me in deeper until I disappear. A pit formed in my stomach as a chill ran down my spine. I couldn''t help but picture him digging into a human excitedly, his teeth cracking on the bones of his meal as he enjoyed each, single part. My throat became dry; my tongue felt like sandpaper scraping against the top of my mouth. My mind became fuzzy. I had no chance of survival against this, this thing, and It was toying with me. It seemed to see the fear in my eyes and laughed, the metal sounding voice screeching like nails on a chalkboard.


    "Who are you, what are you?" I asked, my voice barely above a whisper. My heart felt it was going to stop any second. It leaned in, our foreheads nearly touching.


    "I am Amir," It said.

 A Sickly Death

    It leaned back, using a hand to tear down my torso as skin split, peeled, and rolled up like carpet. I screamed louder than I ever knew I could as pain flowed through my body. It was like a cluster of nerve endings that had never been touched before, that didn''t seem to exist, suddenly started to work screaming at me to stop the agony. Tears were blurring my vision as It chuckled at me, at my pain.


    It pushed and pulled at the rip of my ripped chest, peeling it farther and farther apart while it smiled as if it was playing with a Barbie Doll. It seemed to savor my cries of pain. It took off my socks and shoes like it was re-styling me.


    "You''re just pathetic, aren''t you? Is there any point to fight?" It plucked off my toes like a schoolgirl plucking petals. Blood spurted out from each stump at my foot like a fountain, muscle being torn in chunks. The smell filled the room like an overcast day.


    "Oh my God it hurts so much, please, make it stop!" I cried out, tasting blood in my mouth from the amount I was screaming, begging to just end it and to let it all go. I couldn''t think anymore, I only knew pain. I was the prey, the weak, little mouse.Support creative writers by reading their stories on Royal Road, not stolen versions.


    "Shhh, it''s alright. I''ll stop" It shushed me with its hand over my mouth. I felt bile rise up inside of me at the stench of its putrid hand covered in my own blood, it Abe''s blood. One by one with its other hand, it twisted my feet off. I couldn''t feel them anymore, but could hear the gross "Pop!" of my ankle joint being pulled off of my legs. I couldn''t vomit and felt some of it run to the back of my nose and burn as I tried swallowing it back down. I choked, spewing the chunky liquid at Amir''s hand. It leaked out from the sides onto my face, running up my face near my eyes. The rest of my vomit sat at the back of my tongue, making me choke. I impulsively tried sitting up to let it out, but Amir forced me back down, slamming my head on the pillow. I tried to cough only to swallow and choke.


    Without another word, Amir simply smiled and crushed my fingers. I would rather have him rip my arms off, so I could bleed out already. When they''re still there it hurts so much worse. I tried pleading with it using my eyes, but it shook its head like a disappointed parent bent my arms backwards. I tried to jerk and move, but Amir held me down, forcing its fingers to pierce the skin like my shoulder. It then gave me matching knees with my arms and I finally faded out into darkness. I love you Mom.

 Miss Linda Hanson

    Ms. Linda Hanson had returned home early due to a certain troubling voicemail left by her son about an hour earlier. Seeing an unfamiliar Ford truck in the driveway worried her, panic seeming to quicken her steps as she rushed to the front door. She realized it was left unlocked and her heart rate sped up. She let the door creak open slowly, starting to fear for her son. The first thing she noticed was how her home smelled God awful. It was sickeningly sweet. Placing a hand over her mouth and nose, she slowly entered her home. Everything looked untouched, but one could see on her face that she knew something wasn''t right.


    Instead of exploring any further, she called the police, explaining what she''s experienced, expressing her concerns of a break in and her son not responding. They told her not to worry and to not explore the house any further. Instead, go to a trusted neighbor. She nodded and hung up after telling them the address.


    Ms. Linda Hanson was torn. She visibly wanted to explore her home, a place she thought would be safe, to find her son. She wanted to know, needed to know as the mother. The smell would crash into her in waves, drowning her in the stomach churning scent. She would fight to the surface only to be crashed down upon once more. With her hand on the door frame of the front door, she bent over and heaved, yet nothing came. She stood like that for a while, sweating profusely with a shirt almost a shade deeper than it initially was. That was when she made the decision to find her son. She needed to make sure he was safe; he was her world.


    She stumbled her way into her once peaceful home, but now that home was a ship rocking on the ocean, swaying and about to be pulled under. She had fallen overboard, drowning in the increasingly intense smell. Lamp shades would fall to the edges of tables and then be right back where it was. Her world became a fuzzy mess, the room spun or was it her twirling around in circles? She fell to the ground, pain shooting up her wrists and knees. She didn''t stop and continued to the stairs where the unholy smell only got worse. She climbed up the stairs on four limbs. Rotten meat and rotten eggs with a dash of cheap perfume only seemed to be served right under her nose.


    When she got to the top, she sat back on her legs to understand what was going on. She then, through the twisting, dancing world saw red. Red coated her white bathroom and led to her son''s room, or was it the other way around? She made the mistake of gasping, and then paid the price by doubling over and coughing. She managed to keep from backing up, because she knew she''d fall down the stairs. She forced herself to look up. She didn''t see anyone in the red that repainted her bathroom. Crawling further to her son''s room, the stench wouldn''t allow her to come up for air. She gagged at the sight of someone in her son''s bed. Someone whose toes were halfway across the room followed by their feet. Someone whose fingers were crumpled. Some whose limbs were bent backward. Someone whose chest was ripped open, the muscle exposed and torn through. Someone who looked like her son.The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.


    The scream that came from Ms. Linda Hanson was nothing short of heartbroken, destroyed. Her scream filled the room, echoing off of the walls like someone taunting her pain. She screamed despite that wretched smell, because that was her son, her baby. The scream that came from Ms. Linda Hanson was a scream that could only be described as pure agony, the scream that told everyone who heard her mental state has been smashed. It was the scream that only a mother could make. Her baby she saw grow up before her eyes into a young man was gone, and she knew it. She tried cradling her baby, to comfort him, but she smell was too overwhelming. She had to let him lie alone is his blood-drenched bed, his eyes glazed staring up at the ceiling... She couldn''t even say goodbye.


    The police came running up the stairs through the wretched smell to see a gagging, crying, middle-aged woman covered in blood. They discovered her sitting in the middle of the floor of a crime scene.


    "Ma''am," one of the officers gagged. "Ma''am, are you the one that called?"


    "He told me he knew who killed Kate. He knew," Linda didn''t hear them, she was too busy. She was too busy wondering in her broken, deranged state if the demon her baby claimed killed her friend was real. If she was a fool to not believe him. It was the only explanation she could come up with.


    "Ma''am," the police officer touched her shoulder. It was moist with sweat. Suddenly, Ms. Linda Hanson turned on him.


    "He knew! He knew, and that''s why he died!" She had her blood-stained hands wrapped around the officer''s throat. The officer started to choke while looking down into her sorrowful eyes. His partner had to struggle to pull her off, or there may have been more than one dead body in that room. She backed away in a broken moan and muttering apologies as she seemed to stumble in place.


    Ms. Linda Hanson left her once haven in handcuffs, leaving her baby behind in pieces.

 The Aftermath

    Linda was sentenced to prison on two charges of 2nd-degree murder and assaulting a police officer. She receives no chance of parole and will occupy the rest of her life in prison alone to her broken thoughts. The horrid smell of her dead son lingers in her nose and her nightmares will be eternally haunted by the scenery of his death. She was never allowed to see him be buried.


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    Hannah was put into heavy therapy, but no treatment so far has helped her cope with the loss of her friend. She was a shell of her former self. Her words were few and she only focused on the wall in front of her. People stopped talking to her, her teachers try to support her, but her grades has slipped. Her mother was starting to get frantic. She doesn''t go to her study groups anymore. It wouldn''t be tradition without Jackie.