Short Story Nightmares

Discussion in 'Creative Writing' started by VGLythia, Oct 4, 2011.

  1. VGLythia

    VGLythia Member

    My favourite way to relieve stress is to write dark, and sometimes gory, short-stories. Some are based off of the nightmares I've had on long, restless nights, others are just metaphors for my life. So, this is basically where I'll be posting them because I feel like they deserve to be read.

    (Warning: This is a trigger warning. I do write a lot about suicide, rape, and violence because those are things I've had to deal with in my life. If any of these things may trigger you, then please don't read.)


    When the Party Ends (aka: The Basement) - Page 1
    The Safe Jacket - Page 1
    Cracked - Page 1
    Not Your Friend - Page 1
  2. VGLythia

    VGLythia Member

    When the Party Ends (The Basement)

    When the Party Ends


    A breath escapes her pale blue lips as I watch her eyelids close over her hollow, lost sapphire eyes. My heart aches terribly as I realize that she may never open them again, but she would no longer be forced to watch my blood splatter the cold tile. I want to touch her, her matted blonde hair that once tumbled effortlessly down her back, her blistered, ripped skin that was once so soft and glowing.

    I watch the girl I used to want to be dying on both of our last resting places in the blood and the piss.

    A shiver rocks my limp body as cool air runs across the sheet of sweat covering my skin. Bitter-sweet blood drips steadily into my mouth and down my raw throat. The brick wall digs into the spot where the flesh has been scraped off the back of my throbbing head. I want to lose my sight like her; I want to finally escape into my head so I cannot give him what he wants when he comes back. Back down those wooden stairs, I can hear his foreboding steel-toed boots stomping loudly. It is in my head, I know this, but I still wince painfully at the very poisonous thought.

    Alice. I whisper in my head. How beautiful is it up there? Are you pretty again? Maybe he’ll finish this time. I smile, at least, in the mirror in my mind I do. My lips are already ripped into a permanent grin, I will always be happy. Oh, so pretty, Alice. The mirror in my mind reflects a lovely girl. Her green eyes round, smirking. A smile stretched bloodily from ear-to-ear. He told me I was lovely when I smiled.

    The cold knife made sure I will always be lovely.

    Stomping down the horrid stairs, he slips a little on the blood. You are so lovely, too, sir. My mouth falls open in what must be a terrifying grimace as my hand curls around the silver and starts to bleed. But I’m the loveliest monster out there, you know.

    ”Are you ready to dance again?” He whispers as his hand slides to the back of my neck. Aren’t I always ready to dance? I am already grinning as I run my hand across his throat, leaving the gorgeous, dripping line of a second scarlet grin in my wake.

    When the party ends, we all curl up on the red, cold floor, and we rest.
  3. VGLythia

    VGLythia Member

    Safe Jacket

    Safe Jacket


    I can feel it moving under my skin, running back and forth, back and forth. It is running its spidery legs over my ribs and I can feel it pacing inside my lungs.

    “No, no, no, no…!” I chanted, they had to hear me, they had to help me. This thing, this thing under my skin, they have to untie me. “f**k! Get me the hell out of here.” I scream, my blistered throat protests at the streak that escapes my lips.

    It crawling through my throat now, under the skin stretched over my cheekbones, under my eyelids. I strain harshly against the jacket keeping my hands crossed over my stomach, attaching me to this imprisoning wooden chair.

    “No!” I wail as I jump up and slam back down, I have to break this f**king chair.

    “Listen! It has me, it f**king has me!” Desperate. It has me. I groan as travels back down to my throat and lingers there. I can feel it breathing. Breathing. Circling.
    I watch it flail hysterically. Its hallow cheeks deflating as another shriek escapes its lips. Its pupils are so dilated that the shocking electric blue is barely visible any longer. Large muscles bulge under the jacket as it strains to break free, a safety precaution that is looking quite flimsy at this point.

    “Will the straight-jacket hold?” I ask a doctor looking just as concerned as I do as we stand behind thick glass to observe the new addition to the facility.

    “It’s never failed before.” he mutters as it attempts to break the chair again. “Hm, such strong delusions.”

    We stare in such curiosity as it curses loudly and screams “It has me!”

    “What has him?” I question the doctor again.

    “It seems to be convinced that some grotesque creature has found its way under its skin and is eating it from the inside out.” I wince at the pure monstrosity of it all. The doctor gasps as the chair breaks and it bursts from its confines in the sheltering jacket.

    “Somebody get in there, now!” Doc yells as it clamps its hands around its throat and squeezes. My hands fly up over my mouth in horror as its blue eyes bulge and its mouth turns up in triumph.

    There is a harsh cracking sound as it suddenly tightens it grip with unbelievable strength. It collapses to the ground, finally escaping its final nightmare.
  4. VGLythia

    VGLythia Member




    I know I am asleep. I know I am; I can feel myself lying in bed. I can feel the blankets and cool sweat covering my burning skin. I am on fire. I know this, too. Burning, blistering, in my dreams my skin is cracking. I'm like a porcelain doll left to be trapped between decay and beauty.

    The hardest part is when I'm forced to watch the ones I love burn, too. They catch fire and plead for me to stop. I hold the bucket of cool relief, unable to move. I cannot cry as I watch them die. The tears will not fall. The horror prickles under my skin, turning my blood to solid, cracking ice. There is nothing I can do. Nothing.

    In my bed, in another world, another life, I can feel someone's hands wrap around my throat and squeeze. I lay motionless, trapped, a porcelain doll. I cannot let go and forget. I must kill the people I love and not mourn for them. I must burn and crack.

    I know I am asleep, but I cannot ever wake up.


    So, I'm not sure if anyone's actually reading these. If you are, feedback or a comment would be terrific ^_^
  5. MissCimi

    MissCimi Nerd

    Your writing gave me goosebumps, in a good way. Those are some very intense stories and I loved them. 'When the Party Ends' scared the Hell out of me. It felt like I was really there and I couldn't breathe when I was reading.

    You are quite talented.
    I can't wait till you put more up :)
  6. VGLythia

    VGLythia Member

    Not Your Friend

    Thank you for commenting and I'm glad you liked it ^_^


    Not Your Friend

    I trick you into believing. You are out of the sunlight now, hidden away, safe. It is dark, erasing things you never want to see. You are alone, right where you want to be. Alone in your thoughts with a pen in your hand, a paintbrush in your hands, a guitar in your hands. You are free to say what you want, think what you want, do what you want alone in the dark. There is nothing to stifle you, to limit you, to filter you. You are free.

    You are imprisoned. Trapped in my long, winding arms, squeezing out your sanity. I will hit you with crippling blows. You will remember every mistake, tiny and life-altering. I will make you relive it again and again. Faces and noises will appear; they don’t exist. They do exist. Swimming around in your head, the words don’t make sense any more. Illusions of bugs crawling across your skin. You can’t see them, but they are there. I hide away the unknown so it can creep up on it when you are your weakest. Blood and screams and torture will skin you alive, eat you alive, burn you alive.

    Pray for the sun, my darling; I am not your friend.
  7. VGLythia

    VGLythia Member



    He stumbled through the sharp-ended gates, the killing gates that knew all of your secrets. They beckoned him in and he embraced them gratefully. Tombstones lined his path like glowing orbs of hope, a visual promise of something more. He had lost his purpose; there was no use fighting it and he knew this. However, that didn’t stop the fear from filling him to the brim. The promise of death didn’t make his eyes glow with excitement and acceptance, but dull over with terror and pain.

    The mausoleum glimmered against the night sky, the walls painted with scarlet icing. The windows were blackened with laughter. There was nothing left for him to do but crawl on his hands and knees through the doors. This was where it would all come to an end, and it was his entire goddamn fault. He knew this, yet he still sobbed and begged for forgiveness. I have no mercy, though. Death never shows mercy.

    His sins decorated his pallid skin. Swollen scars reminded him of what he had done to numb himself from what he deserved. I watched as he crawled onto the casket and lay his head against the freezing wood.

    “Please.” He begged. A cackle escaped me as I revealed myself.

    I knew what his horror-filled eyes saw: sickly grey bones and dark musty cloth. Festering flesh hung from my mouth that was ripped across my face.

    “You deserve much worse.” I whispered in his ear. His body started convulsing and blood trickled out one ear as he cried relentlessly.

    “I don’t want to die alone.”

    “The dead will soon be your friends, boy. You have never been alone. We always watch you.”

    His body stilled, his eyes grew cold and distant. I took him, screaming and flailing with me to dine on sorrows and torment.

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