Forsaken souls: nightmare of the dead

She still got nightmares. In fact, she got them often so that she was used to them by now. For a while, she tried every pill imaginable; anything to curb the fear. However, nothing suited. Even mixing them didn't do the result.

"Are you afraid of the dark?"

Gaping like a fish, Elianna opened her eyes in agony. The question someone asked her before was the first thing she recalled as her eyes locked onto the darkness. She couldn't breathe properly; she felt like her lungs would burst open from the pressure. A great invisible force kept her hovering in the air; the only thing that moved in her was her eyeballs.

Something was holding on tightly to her in complete oblivion; she wondered what happened to her and where she was. Nevertheless, her mouth couldn't stipulate anything. She closed her eyes, counted to ten, pulled back the courage and forced her lungs to expand, contract and expand again. Next, she worked her eyes to get a glimpse of where she was.

Memories of the party came back to her, reminding her that she was in a cheerful and noisy atmosphere.

She was carefully returning home when she saw the shadow of a letter in her mailbox. Her hand turned it around checking on the sender before she opened it. It was a simple welcoming letter that warmed her heart and made her lips twitch into a smile.

There was a small rabbit drawn by hand beautifully; it was a drawing she used to add to her notebooks at the end of her pages and no one knew about it. Questions about who knew it and why sending a letter with invitation especially on her birthday came to mind. She brushed it away and continued reading her letter. She was taken back by the lack of the name of the sender. It was ominous to send a letter without any name. She checked the address and it was indeed the one of her house.

She was so tired, from everything. But she wanted to take a break. It was exhausting working as sleep has been stalking her for a while, refusing to take another step to embrace her. It was sad. She always called it sad because she had been quite the sleeper when she was young; it felt like she used all her life's sleeping hours in her younger days and exhausted them now she had nothing left.

Elianna didn't have a gorgeous dress to use or a gown; she decided on wearing her normal clothes until she appeared on the steps of a house she didn't remember existing in her neighbourhood. A servant dressed up like a cursed maiden welcomed her and guided her to a room where she had to choose a dress.

As if the host knew how many people would arrive and at what time they would, she found only one costume waiting for her. The eyes of the servant felt joyless almost uninviting. Elianna flinched but she wore the dress in complete silence, as the eyes kept focused on her silhouette. It was a wedding gown tainted with red solution to show blood.

Her reflection in the mirror looked like a bride that died on her wedding day. It made her remember the warning of her neighbour. She grabbed her arm unexpectedly and examined it like she would examine chickpeas. Her mouth spoke words of lines; love, hate, wicked fate, then death. She told her about death and speaking of the latter was ominous. Elianna immediately took back her hand and warned her of her rudeness, that she shouldn't speak of bad matters this openly. At least, she should have sugarcoated them or not say anything at all.

As she got to the party, her eyes wandered on the costumed and stopped on one of a grim reaper. The man had a long scythe in his hands. It was as if no one paid attention to him. The blade looked so sharp and dangerous. She gazed outside the windows, somehow the house looked bigger on the inside, like a castle, yet, no one paid attention to it. The gargantuan black clouds were overcast by a dense, opaque fog, ever converging, camouflaged with the caliginous sky that surrounded.

"It's strange!" she whispered.

As if her whisper called out to him, he turned his head and the face of a young man appeared. She turned her head immediately, embarrassed, and moved to a corner near the buffet. The strange grim reaper approached her with a wide smile. He was twice her size and looked like a predator rather than a human; his eyes set ablaze the little soul she had left within her. She was confident she had seen him in the past, but it was a distant past. A part she banished from her life like a plague.

"It has been a while since I have seen your face."

Fire spread through her nerves like darts. Her eyes gauged the man, trying to recall where she had seen him but she couldn't. There was nothing in her mind that brought a memory of him. Yet, he had a familiar aura around him.

"Can you refresh my memory? I don't remember knowing someone like you."

"You wound me, Elianna. I thought we were in it for something until you disappeared."

The way he spoke gave her the feeling he was her boyfriend but she never had a boyfriend; she was a boring and quiet girl in high school. Her eyes widened and her mouth gaped open as she remembered him; he was someone who helped her in the math test. She clicked her finger and smiled widely.

"You are Emmanuel. It's until now that I remembered you. Sorry! I should probably apologize more."

"No, not really! How's life? Your mother? Your young sister? She must be in high school this year."

She smiled sadly looking at her knotted hands. "No. They died. My young sister died because of an accident and my mother died of grief. She couldn't take it so she suicided. You know how she was only my step-mother. It's only my father and me now," she sighed as if embraced by a wave of guilt.

"I am sorry. I didn't know about that. If I had known, I would have been there for you."

"It's not really important now. The important is that I am doing well, right?" her eyes looked around searching for faces she might have known. "It seems that you are the only one that I know."

"You were really a quiet one back then; it was almost scary. You looked like a witch and now you look like a murdered bride."

She laughed. "I am grateful for the host. I didn't have a gown to wear."

She felt nervous around him. His demeanour spoke of more than his actual words; he wanted to say more but he was sufficient with only looking at her. He had always thought he would scare her if she had known the real him. He retracted and kept away. Fear was the last emotion he wanted to inspire in her. Nervousness was another part; it was always good to feel nervous because it could change to something else. His eyes wandered around looking for servants who paraded wines but they didn't arrive yet. He glared at the buffet expecting the glasses to flow at him but they stayed still.

Emmanuel offered her a glass of wine that he carefully filled. She remembered how her mother warned her to never accept offerings from strangers, which she should keep away from any frightful circumstances. Nevertheless, she accepted his kindness and gulped the content in one go. She felt nervous; She was the only one without a fancy dress or flashy jewellery. She needed to chill. She bet everyone had a good dress before changing.

"I heard that the host made this party specifically for you, you must rejoice."

"Why? The host wouldn't do that. It's not like I am something to him."

He leaned closer to her ear. "What if I was the host?"

She waited for the host to show up and announce the events of the night, the games he prepared carefully and the excuse to be away from this place. She hated being here. It was comfortless and dreary.

As she waited, her vision started turning blurry and darkness engulfed her vision slowly. She wanted to ask Emmanuel what was happening and to catch her before she fell. Her surroundings went awry and she fell.

The next time she opened her eyes, she was in complete darkness. As she grew accustomed to darkness, the pressure that was surrounding her let loose and she fell, hitting the ground with a loud noise.

[Welcome to the party everyone! This is a party specifically made for the dead. Only by being dead you win.]

And a burst of horrendous evil laughter resounded in her ears like the scream of a ghost.