The Boogieman
Oct 31st, 2003, 02:09:38 PM
He ran, he ran as fast as his legs could carry him, he was so despite to escape the clawed clutches, frightened, panic, confusion, dread. It all filled into him now...those clawed hands, the spidery clawed fingers it was horrible, oh god!..."Help Me!". Fear rose within, a feeling of numbed pain was embedded within his chest like a knot tightening strand by strand within his withering heart.
He was breathless, his throat was so sore through the heavy intakes of breath, his legs aching badly with every stride but his mind fermly set on retreat from whatever followed. What DID follow? was it human? was it even real? The blood stains on his chest surely showed its purpose, the only remains of his mother and sister splattered across his formally white shirt.
No, it was real, real to him, real to reality. He had to escape! But however fast he ran, however fast his legs took him away from the start the thing behind him followed, followed, followed damn it! He could not out run it, he just could not, however fast he ran, the thing chased at a mild walk, even at a mild walk he caught up, catching at a treacherous rate...
"HELP ME!"
It was useless, his screams were mealy and ecoe within his own head, was he even audible? He couldn't hear himself, the terrible clawed hands! Chasing it was, still chasing swift, effortless,SILENT! Behind him, a shred of silver caught the moonlight A KNIFE! The knife that killed his mother, and his dear, dear sister. Slicing and dicing, slashing and ripping, he was not ordinary man, no! it was evil, evil from the blackness.
Why tonight? why tonight of all nights?
TRICK OR TREAT, TRICK OR TREAT!
His foot caught something, he tripped, fell, FEAR! His face slammed first into the hard floor, his body crashing through metal and steel, his skin ripped, the metal took his bite, blood was spilt on his own account, on the account of dread! GOD NO! hes chasing, clawed, behind!
He tried to get up but his arms would not lift him, numbness caressed his body gently, fear took its toll and while he laid there, his body stiff, scared nothing happened, nothing at all. The breeze covered him in a sheet of ice while jack'o'lansterns' lit the way. It was Halloween he thought, Halloween indeed, stupid boy.
Steadily he picked himself up from the ground and looked down the alleyway. Nothing chased him, nothing real anyway, surely it had been a dream, a dream it was. He looked to his left and then to his right, a shopping bag laid where his body had, he must have tripped and fell, knocked himself to dream such a terrible dream, he laughed gently. He picked the bag up smiled slightly and turned around.
FEAR! DRED! ESCA-
The slit of silver dug sharply into his belly, his mind blank, his body oozing with the warmth of his own blood. he tried to scream but his breath had left him and he could no longer take any more in. Bloody spat uncontrollably from his mouth and nose, his face was hot, bleached with his own liquid inards. he had caught him, tricked him, and with his last moments of consciousness he caught the ever so dreadful view of those clawed fingers digging deep into the wound the owner had created.
He was breathless, his throat was so sore through the heavy intakes of breath, his legs aching badly with every stride but his mind fermly set on retreat from whatever followed. What DID follow? was it human? was it even real? The blood stains on his chest surely showed its purpose, the only remains of his mother and sister splattered across his formally white shirt.
No, it was real, real to him, real to reality. He had to escape! But however fast he ran, however fast his legs took him away from the start the thing behind him followed, followed, followed damn it! He could not out run it, he just could not, however fast he ran, the thing chased at a mild walk, even at a mild walk he caught up, catching at a treacherous rate...
"HELP ME!"
It was useless, his screams were mealy and ecoe within his own head, was he even audible? He couldn't hear himself, the terrible clawed hands! Chasing it was, still chasing swift, effortless,SILENT! Behind him, a shred of silver caught the moonlight A KNIFE! The knife that killed his mother, and his dear, dear sister. Slicing and dicing, slashing and ripping, he was not ordinary man, no! it was evil, evil from the blackness.
Why tonight? why tonight of all nights?
TRICK OR TREAT, TRICK OR TREAT!
His foot caught something, he tripped, fell, FEAR! His face slammed first into the hard floor, his body crashing through metal and steel, his skin ripped, the metal took his bite, blood was spilt on his own account, on the account of dread! GOD NO! hes chasing, clawed, behind!
He tried to get up but his arms would not lift him, numbness caressed his body gently, fear took its toll and while he laid there, his body stiff, scared nothing happened, nothing at all. The breeze covered him in a sheet of ice while jack'o'lansterns' lit the way. It was Halloween he thought, Halloween indeed, stupid boy.
Steadily he picked himself up from the ground and looked down the alleyway. Nothing chased him, nothing real anyway, surely it had been a dream, a dream it was. He looked to his left and then to his right, a shopping bag laid where his body had, he must have tripped and fell, knocked himself to dream such a terrible dream, he laughed gently. He picked the bag up smiled slightly and turned around.
FEAR! DRED! ESCA-
The slit of silver dug sharply into his belly, his mind blank, his body oozing with the warmth of his own blood. he tried to scream but his breath had left him and he could no longer take any more in. Bloody spat uncontrollably from his mouth and nose, his face was hot, bleached with his own liquid inards. he had caught him, tricked him, and with his last moments of consciousness he caught the ever so dreadful view of those clawed fingers digging deep into the wound the owner had created.