Thursday, November 10, 2011

In the Dark of the Night by Stephanie Khio


In the Dark of the Night 
 
By Stephanie Khio 
            As the storm intensifies, grotesque shadows lurk in the corners of the room, creating ghastly images. The trees strike the window, giving a hellish laugh in the fierce wind. Its bushy boughs create morbid clown-like shadows, hovering over my bed. Bloodcurdling chills rattle their way up my legs and disperse to the ends of my hair as a lump in my covers travels like a rat crawling under a carpet. Its icy fingers pierce my skin, gnashing onto me with its teeth. As its poignant tongue trickles up my leg, I jolt out of my bed, the covers snarling between my legs. Dragging my numb feet across the burning cold floor, I fumble to the door. Feeling an enigmatic wind behind me, the door slams, awakening the house. The mirrors and the grandfather's clock fall to the floor in the room next door. My hair flies in the raging gust, my face spitting wet from the ferocious rain. I ignore my entire surroundings, racing directly to the open window, deciphering to escape. The window bangs shut, nearly cracking the decrepit wood. The spirits revolt against me, locking me inside its starving jaw. The fickle shadows waltz around the room, an uncanny lullaby replaying itself in the haunted air. I remain standing, facing the window, terrified of the leaves slapping the fury wind. I feel a burning heat behind my neck, breathing heavily with an eerie excitement. I turn to face the monster skulking behind me, feeling my skin ripping into shreds. It is a man-like figure hovering its shadows over me. His saliva boiled out his mouth, bubbling like a potion. Aware of my terror, he gives a fiendish, laughing shrill, howling at the dark spirits. The walls shake. He notices and gives a morbid grin, grinding his teeth. His ghoulish hair corkscrews out of his skull, and his hands scissor my skin, roughly scratching my cheek. I choke on my spit, gasping and gulping for air, as he yanks my head to his face, almost lifting me off the ground. His oddly charming teeth suck at my supple neck, blood gushing through his teeth as if he bit into a succulent fruit. My eyes water, intensely enduring the pain. He stops and the storm winds down, like a broken record that bruises the song to an end. I look into his demonic eyes, blinking into a new world. The dark sky outside isn't as gloomy, but rich with a cottony ash. And his contour has become hearty. Feeling my blood flutter through my veins, exciting my bones, I put his face to mine. Our noses aggressively fondle each other as I kiss his plump red- almost brown- lips. I savor and swallow his saliva, being intoxicated with my master's passionate ardor.

Stephanie Khio's story tied for third place!


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