This is a short "horror" story I wrote. It is written in increments of three sentences, all of which comprise a longer, more cohesive narrative. Please note that I normally do not write horror, so you may or may not find this story very horrifying. Nonetheless, enjoy! ☠️☠️☠️
Throbs of dull pain pulsated my body. Groaning, I rolled off my mattress and peeled of my bedsheets, only to discover a damp puddle of blood seeping into the fabric. Strangely, I stopped menstruating a week ago.
Startled, I frantically searched for injuries. I lifted up my gown and scrutinized my body, but I could not find a single bite or scratch on my body-my flesh was completely unscathed! The pain, however, only got worse, numbing my brain and paling my skin.
Maybe it would be easier to see if I look in the mirror, I mumbled to myself, sucking my breath. After all, it was early in the morning, and the dark gray clouds only obscured my view. Plus, the mirror was a magnifying mirror with a light surrounding its head, so I knew it would be easier to see everything from there.
I rolled off my bed, grunting with pain. After what felt like hours of toiling, I forced myself up, panting. I lifted my eyes to the door, ready to take the laborious walk down the hall.
Strangely, though, I saw a trail of dark, smudged foot prints dragging along the hall, leading to the bathroom, where the mirror was supposed to be. This did not make sense. This was a one bedroom apartment, and I lived alone.
The pain began subsiding, so I ventured to continue walking. I hesitantly padded along the trail, holding my breath. "Is anyone here?" I called.
The hall was silent. "Is anyone here?" I shouted once more, projecting my voice. Still no response.
I took a deep breath, then continued to pad along the trail. As I advanced closer to the bathroom, my skin began to crawl. I could hear scratching against the walls and rasping breath reverberating the hall.
Trembling, I stretched my arm toward the door knob. I sharply exhaled. Then, squeezing my eyes shut, I twisted the knob, shrieking with fear.
The room was silent. Still squeezing my eyes shut, I reluctantly stepped into the bathroom. I called once again to whoever could be in here but still received no response.
Instead, the eerie, rasping breath became louder, and the scratching became more rapid, causing cold shivers to travel down my spine. Let's just get this over with, I told myself. I straightened my back, lifted my chin, and peeled open my eyes.
I instinctively opened my mouth to scream, but no sound came out. In fact, I did not see anything particularly frightening. Instead, standing before me was a beautiful woman with iridescent eyes, flowing brown hair, and a kind expression.
I found myself blinking and stammering, lost for words. I almost forgot about the dull pain and the mirror and the screeching and the rasping that resounded in the walls. I was simply mesmerized.
Then I shook my head, blinking out of the trance. My eyes trailed from the woman's face to her body. I later realized her feet were covered in dark, viscous liquid---the same liquid that was smeared on the footprints.
The woman touched my hand. "How are you, dear?" she asked. "Is there anything I can do for you?"
"Who are you?" I demanded. "What are you doing? How did you get in my house?"
The rasping and scratching grew louder. I could hear screaming resound the room. Pulses of hot, throbbing pain continued to course my body, until my head became light and my vision became blurry.
I flopped onto the floor, falling in front of the woman's feet. With the measly amount of energy I had left, I managed to heave my body up, lifting my eyes. Behind my shower curtain was a shivering, amorphous shadow---that was where the screaming was coming from.
"What is in there?" I asked weakly, motioning my trembling arm toward the shower curtain. The figure behind the curtain screeched, banging on the walls in panic. "Don't worry about it," the woman said softly.
Ignoring her remark, I heaved toward the shower, reaching for the curtain. The woman's eyes then widened with horror. She tumbled in front of me, stretching her arms in an attempt to barricade me from the shower.
Tears welled in her eyes. "Don't go in there!" she sobbed. She pounced on top of me, squeezing my shoulders and clawing my flesh until warm droplets of crimson blood were drawn.
The woman sobbed harder. "Why don't we just pick up some breakfast and have some fun?" she asked frantically, forcing a smile. "Don't waste your time over there," she insisted, pointing at the curtain.
I nudged the woman aside, wiping the blood from my shoulder. Despite her shrieks and sobs, I managed to limp toward the shower and grasp the curtain. I glanced over my shoulder---the woman was trembling and lachrymose, but I shook my head, yanking the curtain aside.
Standing before me was a girl with scraggly hair, black bruises, and dark circles underneath her eyes. She stopped scratching, then began sobbing and shrieking, drowning the woman's voice. I realized that girl was me.
The girl tried to speak, but every time she tried to articulate a word, she found herself rasping and panting, as if every word crushed her lungs. This was why I heard such heavy breathing reverberate the halls. I watched the pitiful creature in fear.
Then, just a few minutes later, the girl stopped screaming, eased her sobbing, and flopped onto the floor, motionless. Blood leaked from her mouth into her drain. I stood there paralyzed.
"This will be you one hour from now," the woman hiccupped, pointing at the corpse. "I didn't want you to live your last hour in fear," she cried, "because I knew that would not be a life worth living. That's why I did not want you to look into that curtain."
"Let me help you live the last moments of your life with joy and fulfillment," she insisted, brightening her expression. "I want to help you live happily and die comfortably. That's the least I can do to help you."
"I-I don't understand?" I stammered. "How do you know this is true? Is there not a way to prevent this?"
"I'm sorry, but there isn't. Sixty minutes was the most I can spare for you. Once I am done speaking, your hour will start now."
I jolted up. Sunlight peered through my binds, illuminating my bedroom. It was all just a dream, I told myself, sighing with relief.
I lifted up my bedsheets. They were covered in blood. My heart rang in my ears as I sat there appalled.
I turned around, finding her standing by my bedside. "Remember, you only have one hour," she told me. "Live well."
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