Glimpses Of Terror

Lost Hopes

The first thing Andrew noticed upon waking up was the "No connection" message on the monitor. Heavily breathing, he jerked back and looked around fearfully. Putting his hand on the desk, he tried standing, realizing his feet were numb, most probably from being still for some time now. His mind was trying to process what had happened before losing consciousness; his thoughts floating scattered all over the place, inconsistent and broken. Deep confusion blend with smoldering silence, and the feeling someone was in the room engulfed his heart; a menacing, intimidating presence, something out of his childhood memories, frightening and disastrous. 

A whisper, subtle as silk, filled the place, its source vague and uncertain.

"Where is Anna?" came the whisper. It seemed to Andrew as if it echoed in the room and traveled along its edges. He looked around, thinking he imagined it.

"Where is your wife?" the whisper traveled to the man’s ears again. With the voice being clear as his thoughts, Andrew couldn't deny that he heard it. He blinked his eyes and squeezed the back of his hand to make sure he wasn't dreaming. Something in this situation felt unreal.

He felt staggered. The room seemed small; his breathing became quick and brisk. Boiling fear pumped through his veins making his heart race and his knees weak. Putting some effort into it, Andrew managed to stand straight. Lying still, uncertain of what was happening, he had to muster all his courage to avoid having a panic attack. After realizing that the room’s light switch didn't work, he paced to the bedroom shouting Anna's name, holding the walls to avoid collapsing. Andrew found himself standing at the doorway looking at the empty bed, which only pushed his distress to its limits. Screaming his wife's name repeatedly, he started searching everywhere for any sign of her. The thought of her leaving again tore Andrew apart; this time, it was a given that he would not be able to handle it.

Opening the kitchen door, he tried the light switch. The bulb shined for a split second, then burst to send small pieces of glass everywhere. In this brief moment, Andrew noted that the whole room was out of place, like something terrible and far beyond his wildest imagination had happened in there.

"Come closer. You are almost there."

The voice sounded from somewhere on the floor, as Andrew realized with fear and denial raging through his whole essence. He carefully put his hand on the counter at his side and reached for a small flashlight he always kept there for emergencies. He tried controlling his breathing, hoping his pulse would slow down and calm his heart which seemed ready to escape his chest. He pressed the button, and the flashlight turned on.

Andrew pointed it to the floor, which seemed dirty, with stains of food and flies taking over parts of it, feasting on the leftovers. A decaying smell was filling the air. Taking a closer look, Andrew noticed that there was something else, a small line of thick, black goo along with the food stains. The smell was more apparent as he approached it, following the black line to the corner. As if someone carefully placed it there, the young man discovered a small wooden box. He got closer to it, tears gathering in his eyes.

"See? She's right where you left her. Untouched and undefiled," the whisper came again, bitter with a touch of sarcasm. This time Andrew located it in the hall that led to the kitchen and went with a shuffling sound like old rags dragging on the floor.

He lifted the small box and turned to face the kitchen door. The buzzing sound he heard earlier was there to greet him most disturbingly. A thing that looked like it escaped his d**g addiction era nightmares was standing at the doorway. With its long hair covering most of its face, it was peering at him. Its skinny arms ended in sharp-looking claws. Its decaying flesh looked charred. Staring at it, Andrew noticed a ghostly aura emitting from the thing, giving it a slightly transparent texture. The creature put its hands on the doorframe, blocking Andrew's way out. On its wrist, Anna's watch was buzzing; Andrew found it painful to hear. The creature's mouth was drooling, revealing a set of razor-like, yellow teeth.

The young man put his shaking hand on the box and carefully opened it. Tears filled his eyes; his lips started trembling. A sob found its way on his throat. The creature gave him an aversive look and took a step forward. Anna's photograph in the small box laid soaking with her blood.

"P-Please, forgive me," he stuttered, his words vanishing into the relentless hate of his wife's spectral reincarnation.

As the shadow of what Anna used to be was devouring her late husband’s remains, a woman, old as time itself walked in the dreadful scene and put her hand on the creature’s head. It slowly turned and looked at the woman, chewing and spitting little chunks of flesh on her ragged clothes, eyes full of hate and distaste. Upon facing the woman’s gentle smile, the creature cooed in content and then went back to its meal.

“Everything will be alright, child. A new purpose is bestowed to you now,” the woman said, her voice identical to the whispers Andrew heard earlier. With a slight move of her hand, the window shutters closed and the front door locked; darkness engulfed the house that once used to be the promise of happy beginnings.

From that day forward, nobody would come close to the house again. After the district attorney ordered the Police to seal it, various stories erupted, with every narrator adding their own version of what unfolded in it. This kept people away for years to come, and the whole thing became more of an urban legend than an actual event, with not a soul alive to this day truly aware of the truth that lurked behind the myth. As for Anna, her hatred for mankind would only grow stronger in time, since whatever remained of her sanity would never be enough to alter her cursed existence. Or so she thought.