Short gothic horror stories

A distant memory

Tattered pieces of old clothing and bunting danced through the desolate streets, torn by the icy tendrils of the wind. The damp, musty air was almost suffocating as I walked on, through the labyrinth of buildings and memories.

A loud beating began to emanate from deep within the barren wasteland that was once a lively city. Despite my hesitation, I continued forward, one heavy step at a time, as if being lured by an unseen force. The labyrinth seemed to change around me, yet stay the same. Despite every turn, I always ended up in the middle of a crossroad, with the moon shining upon me and the rags ever dancing. The beating continued, always seeming so near yet somehow out of reach.

The wind began to claw at me, its icy fingers clawing at my back as I stared into the distance, into the endless grey, bleak streets. I clutched onto my cloak and sprinted towards the beating, the wind's outstretched hand chasing after me, grasping at my hair and pulling it back. But I didn't stop. I continued forward, with the buildings flashing past me like distant memories.

Then I stopped, in the middle of the crossroad again. The rags halted, falling lifelessly to the floor around me. The wind faded into the background like a distant memory. A sharp breath of air filled my lungs, cutting its way through my body and seizing my heart by the throat, stopping the maddening beating if only for a second. It pierced through my body once more before puncturing the air and shattering it like a distant memory.

The wind glided past me now, grasping at my whole body, pushing me forward, towards the now growing beating. I knew what to do. The moon shone its praise upon me as I began to run again. The wind grasped my hand tightly, dragging me along like an excited child wanting to show a new toy. And then I found it. I found the beating. And all at once it came together. I knew what I must do. I knew how to make it stop.

It knelt there, a few wooden blocks stacked, forming a small house. A soft breath crept softly through me. I seized the beating by the throat as it thrashed helplessly and desperately, just like a rag in the wind. And then it stopped. That maddening beating had stopped, once and for all. And that little scream buried deep inside me disappeared into obscurity, just like a distant memory.