1 Short Story #1

Writer's Block

I sat at my desk with a single light illuminating my room. My pencil tapped rhythmically against my empty notebook. I had my phone turned off so I had nothing distracting me from my writing process. I am a well known author from Baltimore who writes complex horror stories. Everyone likes my stories, however, they don't know that the stories they like so much are based on true events. The most famous book is about the shadow realm being linked to my room and how the shadow people watch the main character as they work. Stalking them until They are close enough to attack and kill. Those shadow people are real. They are the ones who make me write my stories. They want to be known.

Slowly I begin writing my next big hit book for Them. I didn't know what my character would experience. I didn't know what horror they would go through. As I am writing, I see Their eyes protruding form the walls. Their red glowing eyes stare holes into me. They slowly make Themselves known. Their bodies are lanky with long bony arms, 3 clawed hands, and pale skin. Thick red blood oozes from Their plastered grins. Their legs are skinned with a black substance covering them.

I was afraid. They never really harmed me or tried to harm me. They usually stand in the corner after They manifest inside my room. However, something was off. Their smiles were wider. Their eyes were brighter. They were planning something and I was in the middle of it. I couldn't take my eyes off of Them. It felt like They were looking into the deepest parts of my soul. I was afraid. My heartbeat was in my throat. The constant burn of Their eyes scorched my soul. I was afraid. I couldn't write. I couldn't think. I couldn't do anything. I was stuck and They were getting angry. I tried to move my hands to continue writing but I couldn't. Then They moved.

They moved towards me with Their claws carving my wood floors. The air was thick with a metallic stench. I tried to scream but my lungs held my breath in. I tried to move but my body was heavy as if steel was my blood and a boulder was tied around my waist. Even if I wanted to do something, I couldn't.

They are now in front of me. I could feel the cold still air around Them against my skin. Their mouths are covered in blood. One of Them raised It's arm and grazed my cheek down to my chest with it's sharp claws. I knew I was about to die. I looked at it's disturbing face and watched as a smile tore it's face from ear to ear. I couldn't look anymore and decided it was best to close my eyes until it was over.

After waiting for what seems like hours, I soon came to realize that I wasn't dead. Actually, nothing happened at all. I opened my eyes and saw the darkness of my room. No eyes. No long bony arms with 3 claws. No shadow people. They were gone. I tried to reach for my pencil and my arm gave into my will. I could move. I could finally breathe without feeling like my lungs were burning. With my brain coming back to life with a prompt, I picked up my pencil and started to rewrite my story. Their eyes and grin were etched into my memory but it gave me inspiration. I feel as though that was a warning and that was all I needed. I had something to write about.