Was this really a good idea? Trading precious time to write the best story I’ve ever created for an all night party at the lake with my friends? Everything in me told me to write, but I knew I would in some way regret not going.
The story I created is about a young man and his 2 friends who poke around in an abandoned factory, only to become trapped there, tormented by something invisible. Overall, this story is very different from the funny things I normally write. But what inspired this change will forever haunt me…
Last week, I had a dream where me and my friend Connor entered an abandoned house to loot it. When we entered the basement, we found ourselves trapped by a man with skin as black as night and glowing blue, cat-like eyes. He pulled a jagged knife out of his left thigh and said: “You won’t be leaving just yet.” He had a normal human voice, but with an unnerving, terrifying quality. The sound of his voice gave me the purest form of panic and horror. After he spoke, he forced me to stare into his eyes, and he smiled; a truly horrifying grin. Then, he disappeared into thin air. In that terrifying moment, thoughts that weren’t mine echoed through my head. The thoughts gave me the same horrified feeling as hearing his voice did.“You will be mine.” the voice said, and again, quieter then the last. After that, I think I heard his almost non-existent voice saying “Who you are determines what you become after death… I will have you…”
Immediately after me and Connor figured that he would not come back, we bolted out of that house, dropping everything we had found there. As I exited that houses’ yard, I stopped and looked back to make sure that that demon wasn’t staring back at us. When I turned back around and tried to catch up to Connor, I painlessly felt my head instantly split down the middle as a wide dagger plowed right through the back of my head and opened up the space between my eyes.
I forced myself awake and found myself in tears.
Despite my instincts telling me not to, I let Sean talk me into joining him, Connor, and Sean’s sister Angie. The 3 of them were excited to learn that I would be there.
After talking my parents into letting me go, I asked Connor if he could give me a ride to the lake. He agreed, and managed to pick me up 5 minutes early, something he has never done before.
When we got there, I saw Sean and Angie sitting at the wooden tables with a two 20-packs of beer. Sean greeted me by saying: “Glad you could make it Pete! Wouldn’t be a party without you.” when he said party, I didn’t think he had meant one with alcohol involved. Every party I went to with him had been free of the stuff, but I knew that he, Angie, and Connor loved to party while drunk. Despite my protests, my friends dared me to drink one. I forced myself to drink the first one, hating the bitter taste. They cheered for me while I noted how the beer made me feel. I tried to think of words to describe it, but I had trouble doing so, since the beer seemed to lessen my ability to think straight. As someone who lives in his head half the time, this was a strange and relaxing experience.
3 beers later, I was slurring my words, and acting belligerent. I didn’t think for one second about any word that came out of my mouth, or about anything I did. This was a lot more fun then it sounds like.
By this time, it was well past sundown. Just as they finished the last of one of the 20-packs, a stranger who looked like he was about 15 started walking our way. As he approached us, he said: “Mind if I join you?” Naturally, in our drunken state, we all agreed. Something about this man reminded me of the nightmare I had last week, but I thought nothing of it as he joined us at the table.
After downing his first beer, he walked down the hill to a large rock and jumped in the water. “Wahoo! You guys gotta try this!”
“I think we’re too drunk for that!” Angie yelled out, badly slurring her words.
“That’s why it’ll be fun!” Sean said, also slurring his words. The four of us started laughing and then all of us walked down to the rock and jumped in, joining the stranger in the warm water. Ten seconds after I jumped, I discovered that I was still underwater.
I felt the water getting colder, and then it hit me: I was sinking, not rising. After I realized that, I noticed with horror that it was the stranger was grasping my shirt and pulling me down. I looked at his face, and watched it turn pitch black as I drowned. His eyes also changed, and became the same eyes that I saw in that nightmare. I screamed, emptying the air from my lungs.
In my terror, I blacked out, never to see light again.
The instant I awoke, I realized I had no eyes. The world appeared before me through my imagination. With this new sense, I could feel the bars of my cage and the walls that lay beyond it with invisible hands. Aside from my lack of eyes and shoes, my body had not changed. Then I turned and saw the rotting bodies of my 3 friends in the corner.
Shocked by these revelations, I had forgotten how I got here. I remembered how I died, reliving it through my now perfect memory. When I experienced death again, I fully realized what I had lost and dropped to my knees, screaming.
Then a door opened and the stranger walked through it. I watched in terror as he stood before me and smiled that awful smile from the nightmare. I screamed again, even louder then before, because of what my prior scream had summoned. He watched me for a second before he disappeared the same way he did in my dream. He instantly reappeared inside my cell and put his finger through my forehead.
Our souls literally touched. I caught a glimpse of the horrors he inflicted upon thousands of innocents as he lived my whole life though my perfectly preserved memories. Seconds later, he pulled away and said:
“You aren’t what I hoped you’d be. No matter, you’re still useful to me.”
“Go to hell!” I screamed at him, wishing that fate upon him. To my surprise, a piece of his mind attempted to literally drag him into hell. Incredible. In my death, as a writer, I became perfectly able to do what all writers try so hard to do: powerfully influence the imaginations of others!
It took the demon an enormous amount of willpower to stop what I inflicted upon him. After that he appeared excited as he grabbed my upper arm and made the bars of my cell disappear. He ran to the door almost instantly and opened it, before he exited the small prison and quickly flew over the ground to a massive tree stump. Finally, he threw me near its edge. Then he whispered “Grey Fa Gu.” and told me the rules of this place: “The one who touches the earth first gives his soul and his skills to the other.” then he rushed at me, wielding the same knife that he had in my nightmare. I screamed as quickly as I could: “Fall off and lose!”
He did just that, although he didn’t seem to care. I ran over to see him touch the ground, but just before I did, the demon’s voice spoke in my head: “I lied!” I was gripped with horror as I realized that I just give him victory. I felt my body turn to dust and flow towards my nightmare. My soul flowed with it, towards the grinning demon, and was instantly absorbed by him.
After that, my sense of awareness came back to me as I felt the hundreds of souls trapped like me, all of them helpless and numb behind the soul of the demon. All I could do was watch, as his memories became mine, and I experienced the horrors he had inflicted on the world. He had killed hundreds, and absorbed hundreds more, all to help his terrible plan. At the end of this, our world will be annihilated.
I lived his whole life, and all of his terrible deeds through his memories, while I went numb; my soul becoming a part of his.
This is my fate, because I chose to party instead of write. And this is the price I paid.
Becoming Writer 2016 Anniversary Contest 