Sacrifice

Sacrifice


James, 14

James lay huddled into a corner, crying silently, fearful that the ghostly premonition before him would hear his sobs. Vaguely human shaped it was, but strangely blue, as if it had been held underwater for a long time. Draped in a faded white bridal gown, it lay panting heavily on the floor, right in the middle of the room- blocking the only way out.

It crawled, dripping wet hair leaving a trail on the wooden floor, dusty from years of neglect and abandonment. Its eyes peered from side to side, having lost focus. James wondered- has it lost me? The room was so dark, only the spirit itself provided any illumination. He could barely see his quivering knees.

A spider darted quickly out of a crack in the floorboards. Luminous, green in colour, James felt its bristly hair brush across the back of his hand- a hand gripping hard onto nothingness for dear life. Unable to contain himself any longer, he shrieked. A piercing wail, the ghost heard and its head whipped towards his direction, its eyes starting to glow with a hungry, red glare- its mouth grinning widely, revealing nothing but a wet, turgid tongue- no teeth. A baritone rasp emitted from its throat, and James stood, wanting to run but the urge to get as far away from it as possible only pinned him to the corner more.

Who am I kidding? James wasn’t the toughest kid in school, but He wasn’t about to let his imagination get the better of him here. Pete and Jonathon dared him to stay overnight in the haunted house, and that he would do. His reputation would be destroyed otherwise.

Somehow, the thought of those two idiots comforted him, reminded him what was real. The premonition dissipated, as did the green spider, and James walked shakily from the room. I haven’t been scared of anything before. Why now?

James picked up his flashlight, having dropped it when he ran from the ghostly creature. Upstairs. Find a place to sleep, get through the night.


Later, he awoke. A warm, tingly feeling spread down his spine. A familiar, comforting feeling. James’s mother always scratched his back to wake him up when he was late for school in the morning, one long, sharp stroke with her tiny nails. Already? He mumbled. He stretched his arms and yawned, eyes bleary from too little sleep. He reached around and grasped his mother’s hand. It smelled of bacon and eggs- a perfect way to start the school day. James turned to face his mother.

He screamed. He was not at home, waking up for school. He was still in the house. This scream was more intense, more filled with dread. The hand that scratched his back was not his mother’s hand. It looked like his mother’s hand, it moved like his mother’s hand. Its fingers were long, thin, slender, wrinkled- like his mothers’. But this hand was not attached to his mother’s arm. It floated in mid-air, its pink-painted fingernails just catching the amber glow of the outside streetlight. James ran from the room and down the stairs. He tripped on something soft and squishy on the way down, but did not care to check when he knew- he just knew, that the floating hand was following him. He ran all the way home without a single glance backwards.


James, the next morning


Late again! That sensation yet another time, creepy crawly scratchy down his back. No! He sprung away from the hand, banging his forehead upon the wall. His mother stood there confused, hurt and taken aback.


James, 15


You know when you walk home in the dark, and you get frightened? A fear of the dark is a rational one, for the most part. Deprived of one of our senses, we are vulnerable to predators, our fight or flight response is activated, adrenalin courses through our veins and we feel scared. Every dark corner becomes a haven for muggers, ravenous wolves and shapeless monsters with one goal- to destroy us. This sort of fear is probably beneficial in an evolutionary sense, the fearful survive.

For James, this was different. Every one of his senses, not just sight, was activated. He could hear a soft slither of a moist creature in the darkness, trailing his every step. The musky scent of the haunted house followed him. A taste lingered in his mouth- blood. No matter what he did, he still felt the warm tingling of nails down his spine.

This was a different fear. A fear far more than a biochemical response to danger. It was a blackness, an all-consuming cavern in his insides.

We’re real.


James, 16


James no longer went out at night. Those who used to be his friends at school now avoided him like the plague. His sadness and terrified eyes were infectious, the darkness was leaking. The monsters became angrier and braver, now able to come to him during the daytime. As he sat in school, worms two feet long crawled across the window, grinding at the glass with gigantic, brown fangs. He had long since given up asking if others could see them.

He first attempted solace in the company of others, but when he did this they started mutating. Subtly, features of people he knew morphed into each other. His mother’s short legs began to grow and become hairy, like his dad’s. Her eyes got larger and further apart, and her hair became wet and matted. He tried shouting at the monsters, asking them why? This elicited a response only from his parents, who took it in turns to burst into his room to awake him from the nightmare, a futile enterprise. His parents arranged Psychiatrists, but none believed that what he saw was real.


James, 17


On his 17th birthday, a new monster came to him. A giant, blue, furry ball with no features aside from overly long arms and tiny black eyes. GIVE ME A HUG! When it spoke, a gaping hole opened in the blue fur, but when the hole closed there was no gap, just fur. It pulled open James’s bedroom door and lumbered out.

After a few minutes, James realised something. They hadn’t physically left his room before. In a trancelike state, he walked out and somehow knew to go to his parents’ bedroom. His mum and dad lay dead on the bed, bloodied stumps where their legs should be. The blue furball turned to face him, a foot poking out of its ‘mouth’. Slowly, it extended its arm towards James and clenched its fist, leaving a thumb in an upright position. Well done. Shouting for help, James turned and ran into his older brother’s room.

His brother writhed on the floor, tiny green spiders enveloping his body. Crawling over his hands and arms, scampering into his ears, his eyes, his mouth. He retched, convulsed again and vomited green spiders over the floor. He turned his horrified eyes towards James. Why? Then he was consumed again, his last breath cut short by spiders slowly filling his mouth.

Something inside James snapped. He escaped downstairs, grabbed two kitchen knives and ran back up to his parents’ bedroom. Sobbing and shrieking hysterically, he plunged the knives repeatedly into the furry blue creature. In. Out. In. Out. Again. All it did was stand there and laugh maniacally, a big, booming chuckle, it’s ‘mouth’ jolting up and down. Then it disappeared, and James fell softly to his knees. I’m so sorry.


James, 17-21


A cautious neighbour had heard the ruckus and called the police. The murder of his parents was hardly worth investigating- seeing James sobbing on his knees beside the corpses of his family whimpering about furry blue monsters was enough for anybody to confine him to a psychiatric hospital. Psychiatrists stood up in court and testified regarding his mental state, and he was thrown away.

However, since the death of his parents, James became a model patient. After just two years, he was transferred to a communal health centre for rehabilitation. Remorse was shown for his crimes, and improvement in mental stability coincided with his medication enough to convince experts that it was working. At first, James did not want to return to the outside world, deeming himself a danger to others. The monsters were calmer, but they had not gone. The blue furry creature lay in the corner of his room, mouthing silently to himself. The drowned lady in the bridal gown, now with the face of his mother, lay in bed next to him, tracing a wrinkled finger lightly down his spine. A new creature appeared, a perfect white kitten that lay curled at the foot of his bed. In his dreams, he could hear the kitten whispering to him, comforting him.

It’s not your fault.

Everything is going to be fine.

We’re here to help you.

Soon, we will be free.

Sleep well.

Soon, we shall have everything we ever wanted.

You will be happy.

It’s not your fault.


Of course, he shared none of this with the doctors. As time passed by, they became more pleased with his progress and were already discussing an early, monitored release. James’s fear of endangering others was slowly overtaken by his desire to finally be rid of the monsters that plagued his imagination. It soon became clear to him that to do that he must be set free of this prison and to travel back to the haunted house where it all started. At the doctor’s sessions, he pleaded to be set free, to go back to school, to make something of himself.

On his 21st birthday, he was set free. He had been allowed on supervised outside walks before, but this was different. It felt like the whole world was free to walk over. Free for him and nobody else. Nobody else but his monsters. His plan was to enjoy himself. Go to town, buy an ice cream. Only then would be go to his newly assigned council house. Then maybe, in a week or two he would go back to the haunted house. But his plan fell into nothingness as soon as he walked out of the place. The urge was too great. Most of the monsters stayed in the asylum, but the kitten stayed by his heels, urging him on.

James got off the bus and slowly began his descent towards the house. As he walked nearer, the kitten began to purr and its legs quickened to an excited trot. Without realising, James sped up to keep pace with it. An apprehensive knot rose in his chest as he traipsed through the overgrown front garden, but he continued on. At least there was some daylight still remaining. The kitten reached the front door and began clawing mercilessly at it. James stopped, took a deep breath and opened the door. Relief washed over him as he saw the house in daylight- rundown, but not at all frightening. Daylight poured in through the windows, revealing that perhaps the house may have once been a pleasant, spacious home for a happy family. A short bus ride from town, ten minutes walk from school, yet the building itself was in a quiet, secluded little green area that would look wonderful with a little upkeep- why hadn’t anybody fixed it up a little?

With a finality, the door slammed behind him and the light pouring through the windows was instantly cut off.


Confrontation


No! You’re not real!

James was on his knees. His stomach turned over violently inside him and he jolted forward, face contorted in desperate pain. A mass of sticky spider carcasses ejected furiously from his mouth, and a pale white light exploded from the mess. A furious ball of orange fire shot towards the corner of the room and stayed there, instantly alighting all the walls around him. Monsters appeared from the other rooms, from upstairs, from underneath the floorboards. The blue furry creature stood, embraced by a similar, bigger, red one. GIVE ME A HUG! The red one opened its mouth and the blue one willingly stepped inside it and was swallowed whole. Green plant tendrils snaked down from the ceiling and snapped in his direction. An amber scorpion approached, its bright red stinger poised threateningly. As James stepped gingerly backwards, he felt the heat of the fire behind him. There was no escape. There were more green spiders, and rats. Rats so black in colour that the light around them from the fire seemed to just disappear. Waist height greeny-brown scaly things ran about, cackling and punching each other. A menagerie of evil.

There was a flash of light and a magnificent presence appeared in front of him. The other creatures drew closer to it. Its face was that of a man, though its features so crafted to perfection it would be unnerving on any actual person. The pale cheekbones were free of any blemishes, the strong, hairless jawline starkly contrasted a plump set of lips- soft and...kissable. The eyes were luminously blue, so beautiful and piercing that nobody would be able to look away. A ring of blinding light hovered above its head of hair (oh what it would be like to run a hand through that softness), projecting a golden glow onto its broad, muscular shoulders. James was reminded of rippled, strong representations of ideal masculinity he had witnessed in comic books. He watched the cat pad over to the fearsome thing and rest its head upon its ankles that rose and fell inches above the floor as it kept afloat with beats of its mighty wings- wings so terrible and strong, yet looked warm and safe. An intricate, woven structure of bone held the feathers together. James wanted nothing more to let himself come into that wingspan, to be embraced and taken.

Y-you’re not real.

HAHAHA. You think your mortal mind could conjure me? You think you had the strength to kill your parents? You think they would have let you out so quickly without us nudging things along?

What are you?

What I am is of no interest to you. We are from the place you call Hell. This house is the only remaining gateway.

Bu-wha-how?

QUIET. You recall the torment which we have caused for you? Would you like to endure that for the rest of your days?

No...

Then do as I say. Sleep in that bed one more time.

That’s it?

You have to be aware of the consequences for the ritual to work. Once you sleep in that bed again, our spirits will be free of your body, and this house. We shall be free to walk across the world as you do. When you wake, this house will be a mansion. You will be provided with a wealth of pleasure you didn’t even know you desired.

With a click of the fingers, piles of cash rained from the ceiling. The ugly, toothless monster slithering across the floor transformed into the most attractive woman James had ever set eyes on. Her red hair rippled as she lightly stepped forward, seductively licking the top of an ice cream cone, mixing together raspberry sauce and ice cream expertly with her tongue. As her mouth lingered over the embedded flake, James’s mouth began to water.

I can have anything I want?

Yes! All you have to do...is sleep.

What about my family back, asshole?

And with that, James turned and flung himself into the ball of fire. Screams of rage turned to screams of pain as his flesh melted away, but when he saw the results of his actions he began to laugh. The creatures were burning, turning into ash.

You will never hurt anyone else like you destroyed me and my family.

NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!

There was one final stab of pain, and James saw nothing but blackness.

James heard a voice that sounded strangely like one of the doctors at the hospital- Welcome to Hell...asshole.