HELON

"It's almost time, Its almost time," Shrieked a raspy feminine voice, "I'm coming for you." My skin crawled, and goosebumps enveloped my young frail frame, which was tucked into my comfy pajamas, I was scared out of my mind. "It's almost time," she shrieked again this time the voice seemed to be closer than it was a moment ago. I turned my head, I couldn't believe my eyes. What I saw seemed like it crawled straight out of a horror movie (those messed up ones). She stood right in front of me, and although her feminine figure was somewhat retained, she didn't look like a woman any sane person would be attracted to. She looked demonic; Six feet tall, with eyes as dark as night, she had fur, her nails as long as claws and her dentition could make lions cower. I wanted to scream but my mouth wouldn't open, I tried to run but my feet seemed glued to the floor. "I'm dead, I'm dead." that was the only thought my brain could process. I read that once faced with death, the human brain begins to replay its encounters, to help its host come up with a means to escape or overcome its current situation, with the aid of information from its past experiences, but there was nothing in my reminiscences that could be compared to what I faced now. "Chrissssss" she screeched. She ran towards me, at a speed, no athlete could dream of reaching. I tried to jump out of her way, but my attempt was futile. She swung her arm and her claws collided with my torso, I fell to the floor, the impact alone was enough to bring a grown man to his knees, but that wasn't the main threat. Pain like never before infiltrated my body, she has left a deep gash into my torso. I used my hands to try to stop the bleeding but that wasn't enough, I'll be dead in the next three minutes. She walked slowly towards me, "This isn't enough Chris soon I'll have you for real," she grinned. She took another swing and slashed off my head, and I died. "Chris!" my door swung open. I bolted off my bed only to be greeted by my guardian's frustrated stare. {it was a dream.} Chris thought as he let relief sink in. "Get up Chris, do I have to wake you up each morning? some of us have work to do, why do you sleep like a dead person?" she said while staring daggers into me. "Whatever, Grace, you'd never believe me even if I told you, some of us have burdens to bare" I replied her, making sure she could notice I was mimicking her. "Just get ready for school, okay little man?" she snared. (she knows I hate when she calls me that.) "I'm not little, Grace, I'll have you know, I'm seventeen now, I'm practically an adult," I explained. "Whatever, little man," she said as she slammed the door. I couldn't just pretend that didn't just happen, I died, I've been getting dreams like that ever since I was fifteen, that's two years of constant torment, and sometimes, if I stare hard enough, people's faces flicker and twist, until they resemble the creatures from my dreams. I've crossed the line of insanity a long time ago. When I decided to open up to Grace, she took me to a therapist. My therapist said "I just have an overactive imagination" and "I should lay off the horror movies," horror movies my ass, nothing I've watched is as messed up as the s**t I see. When I tell other people they just see me as a deranged kid who is craving attention, I guess.......... I'm the boy who cried demon. I took a shower and got ready for school. I threw on a grey hood with navy blue sweatpants and black sneakers, the whole outfit was complemented by my blonde hair and blue eyes. Grace dropped me off at school, I tried my best to remain hidden, but my best wasn't good enough. "Hey Casper," someone yelled. {s**t, I knew I wasn't walking fast enough}, "leave me alone Tyler," I said as I increased my pace, only to be cornered by one of Tyler's goons. Tyler had been picking on me for years now, he was more muscular and taller than me, yet I always had this feeling that I could take him in a fight. Yet I just let him do whatever he wanted to, it's too much of a hassle to start a fight with a group of lowlifes who have nothing better to do. (Their attention was the last thing I needed in my life.) "Hey, Mckeen, can you say hello to my dead grandma for me, you know, since you see ghosts and all," Tyler said, his followers went wild, laughing their empty heads off. "I don't see ghosts, stupid, I see demons, so unless the women in your family have horns on their heads and fur all over their butts, I don't think I can see them." I blurted out. Everyone took a minute to digest what I had just said. "Well, at least I have a family," Tyler replied. Chris was orphaned at the tender age of seven, his mom died during his birth and his dad disappeared and was proclaimed dead, apart from Grace he had no other known family member, so the word "family" isn't something he was accustomed to. Tyler's friends cheered him once more. "You want to call your heap of garbage a family? I'd rather remain an orphan than be in your sorry excuse for a family." I decided to land the finishing blow. {I knew I went overboard, but he deserved what he got}, silence loomed over his friends once more. Everybody knew Tyler's family was nothing to be proud of, but not once did they say a word concerning it, Chris just touched a very sensitive nerve. Tyler's expression changed, he no longer had a smirk on his face, and he was frowning; his muscles tensed, he clenched his fist, he radiated with the intent to kill, the young man had lost his mind. "Don't Tyler," His friends warned. "He's not worth it," they said. Tyler was already past the point of discussion, he took a swing for Chris's face with all the strength he could muster, and as fast as he swung his arm, Chris rose his right hand and caught it with ease, Tyler's friends gasped. "Let's mess with him a little." a voice within Chris said. “It’s almost time. It’s almost time!” A raspy, feminine voice shrieked in the dark. “I’m coming for you.” My skin crawled. Goosebumps rippled across my small, frail frame, wrapped tightly in cozy pajamas. I was terrified beyond reason. “It’s almost time,” she shrieked again—closer now. Much closer. I turned my head... and froze. What I saw looked like it had crawled straight out of a horror movie—the kind that messes you up for weeks. She stood right in front of me. Though her figure vaguely hinted at something feminine, there was nothing about her that any sane person would find attractive. She looked demonic—easily six feet tall, her eyes black as night. Her body was covered in fur, her nails twisted into long, claw-like talons, and her teeth... her teeth could make a lion back down. I wanted to scream, but my mouth wouldn’t open. I tried to run, but my feet were frozen in place. “I’m dead. I’m dead.” That was the only thought echoing in my head. They say the brain replays your life in moments like these—like it’s trying to dig up some long-lost memory that might help you escape. But there was nothing in my past that could prepare me for this. “Chrissssss!” she hissed. Then she charged. No athlete could ever match that speed. I tried to dodge, but it was useless. She swung her arm—those claws tore into my torso. I dropped to the ground. The sheer force alone would’ve brought a grown man to his knees, but the pain… the pain was the real threat. It was unlike anything I’d ever felt. She’d ripped a deep gash into my chest. I pressed both hands against the wound, desperate to stop the bleeding—but it wasn’t enough. I had minutes. Maybe three. She approached slowly, grinning. “This isn’t enough, Chris,” she whispered. “Soon, I’ll have you for real.” Then, with one final swing, she slashed off my head. And I died. --- “Chris!” My door burst open. I jolted upright in bed, panting—only to be greeted by my guardian’s annoyed stare. It was a dream. “Get up, Chris. Do I have to wake you every morning? Some of us have jobs, you know. Why do you sleep like a corpse?” Grace asked, eyes shooting daggers. “Whatever, Grace. You wouldn’t believe me even if I told you. Some of us have burdens to bear,” I replied, mimicking her tone just enough for her to notice. “Just get ready for school, okay, little man?” she sneered. She knows I hate when she calls me that. “I’m not little, Grace. I’m seventeen now. Basically an adult,” I said, trying to sound mature. “Whatever, little man,” she said again, slamming the door on her way out. But I couldn’t pretend it didn’t happen. I died in that dream. I’ve been having nightmares like that since I was fifteen. Two whole years of constant torment. And sometimes—if I stare long enough—people’s faces start to flicker… twist… until they resemble the monsters from my dreams. I crossed the line of insanity a long time ago. When I finally opened up to Grace, she took me to a therapist. They said I had an “overactive imagination” and should “lay off the horror movies.” Horror movies? Please. Nothing I’ve seen on screen compares to the things I’ve lived through in my sleep. When I talk to other people, they just label me the crazy kid looking for attention. I guess I’m the boy who cried demon. --- After a quick shower, I got dressed for school. Threw on a grey hoodie, navy-blue sweatpants, and black sneakers—something low-key. My blonde hair and blue eyes stood out regardless. Grace dropped me off. I kept my head down, hoping to slip past everyone. But hope’s overrated. “Hey, Casper!” someone called. Shit. I knew I wasn’t walking fast enough. “Leave me alone, Tyler,” I muttered, speeding up—but one of his goons stepped in front of me. Tyler’s been picking on me for years. He’s taller, stronger, meaner. And yet, every time he steps to me, I get this strange feeling—like I could take him. Like something inside me is just waiting. But it’s not worth it. Picking fights with bottom-feeders who thrive on attention? No thanks. “Hey McKeen,” Tyler sneered. “Say hi to my dead grandma for me. Y’know, since you see ghosts and all.” Laughter erupted from his minions. “I don’t see ghosts, dumbass. I see demons. So unless the women in your family have horns and fur on their asses, I don’t think I can help.” They went quiet for a second, trying to process what I just said. “At least I have a family,” Tyler snapped. The air changed. I was orphaned at seven. My mom died giving birth. My dad vanished and was later presumed dead. Apart from Grace, I’ve got no one. So family is a word I barely understand. Tyler’s gang roared again. But I wasn’t done. “You call that pile of trash a family? I’d rather be an orphan than part of that mess.” Silence. Everyone knew Tyler’s family was a disaster. No one talked about it. I just crossed a line. Tyler’s smirk disappeared. His face darkened. Muscles tensed. Fists clenched. I could feel his killing intent. “Don’t do it, Tyler,” one of his friends warned. “He’s not worth it.” But Tyler wasn’t hearing it. He swung for my face, hard. I caught his fist mid-air—effortlessly. Gasps followed. “Let’s mess with him a little,” a voice inside me whispered. I smiled. Not a friendly smile—a predator’s smile. Suddenly, I was the threat. I glared straight into Tyler’s soul. For a split second, my pupils flickered gold. “Stop messing with me… if you want to live,” I said. My voice barely sounded like mine—it was as if I was holding back something… dangerous. Tyler collapsed to the floor, paralyzed with fear. His friends grabbed him and dragged him away. “You’re a psycho, McKeen,” one of them muttered. Maybe. I wasn’t in full control when I threatened him. But honestly? I loved every second of it.