There we were, typing away at our individual screens. We’d been in that room for two weeks now, but nothing ever changes. Always just typing away.
I could feel the dampening of my soul with every punch of a key; it weighed down on me, like a chain I couldn’t see but felt all too real.
Then it happened.
It started in the distance, but then it slowly crept up on us. When I realized what it was, it consumed the whole room – the screech of a fire alarm in full swing. The constant ringing pounding our eardrums, relentlessly trying to usher us from the room. Without hesitation smoke immediately filled the room, thick and black. We dropped down to the ground and made our way for the door.
It’s locked. Fuck.
As we coughed and spluttered our way through the rest of the room, trying to find some object to bash the door with, the grim reality of our fate dawned upon us. Almost in unison when the thought took hold of us, we each felt our muscles instantly drain of all energy – we were physically stuck.
Struggling to see, struggling to breathe, struggling to stay conscious – and now struggling to even move.
In the foggy haze I swear I caught a glint of the reaper’s scythe, and the flap of his dark robe. If he was indeed in that room with us, he surely was grinning; perched, waiting – like the ethereal vulture he is.
Suddenly, a skeletal hand enters the dashboard of my blurred vision. It was waving up and down, I stared at it, mesmerized, as I felt myself get more and more light-headed. Then it hit me that this was someone trying to wake me – a dream! It must have been a dream! I’m not destined to die in this room after all! My breath quickened as joy started to inflate my outlook when-
My chest gets slapped back to the ground with a crash – I’m winded slightly. It wasn’t ‘just a dream’ and I’m still very much in that room. I feel a strange weight on my chest, preventing me from sitting up. With a cold sweat I realized that this weight was not only heavy, but moving too – almost like it was…slithering.
Fear-induced cold flashes permeate my flesh; I thought I was having a heart attack. Then I heard a voice, like that of a thousand demons, chillingly whisper into my left ear as each hair on my body stood at attention at the words: “night…mare”.
The weight lifted from my chest. The dark smoke cleared.
I sat up; looking around the room, I took a deep breath in only to see, to my horror, a corpse hanging from the ceiling. The blue hue of the cadaver’s legs etched itself into the banks of my visual memory when I blacked out and said to myself-
“what manner of demonic hell-spawn has ushered its way into my consciousness?”
Awaken. Breathe. Daylight fills my bedroom as I realize it was actually just a horrible ordeal of a dream. Shrug. Time to head to work.
Could do with less night hag visits while I’m sleeping, thanks Universe.