Horror Short Story: Afraid Of The Dark

James woke up in the middle of the night with a full bladder. He could practically feel his bladder throbbing in pain. He quietly got out of bed, fearful that any sudden move would cause him to urinate all over his bed.

James was a grown man, but when he looked down the hallway towards the bathroom he felt a sense of fear he had known since childhood. He was always fearful of the dark and what could possibly to hidden in the shadows. When he was four he had a dream that The Cryptkeeper from the Tales From The Crypt show descended from his living room ceiling in a basket. James recalled the creature laughing hysterically as it reached out to grab him, chasing him until James quickly rushed into his bathroom and shut the door. Since it was perhaps his first nightmare, it had all felt so real to James. At times he even questioned whether or not it was a dream.

Ever since the night this dream infected him, James had a severe fear of the dark. Sometimes he would provoke it. As a child he also read one too many ghost stories and whenever he heard the house settle at night, he was certain it was a restless spirit wanting to possess his body and have a second chance at life.

As he passed the first room shrouded in darkness, James’ imagination began to take over. Passing by this room couldn’t have taken more than three seconds, but within that time he pictured a lamp being turned on and once his eyes glanced over he would be face to face with a clown. The clown would be sitting in a rocking chair, surrounded by porcelain dolls of clowns. James imagined a few would even be missing their eyes, in his mind they all had sinister horrifying grins.

The clown James imagined would be in a bright blue outfit with giant fuzzy white balls down the front. Its face would be pale white with giant long eyebrows drawn on with a bright red nose and long bright red hair at the sides that looked like an arrow going through the clown’s skull. The most disturbing part would be the red lips the clown had. They wouldn’t be the same bright shade of red of the clown’s nose and hair. They would be a darker tint, like that of dried blood.

This clown would see James and jump up, excited to see him. The clown would be eager to make James laugh and smile. James would stand paralyzed looking up at the tall clown and the look of fear would anger the clown. James felt a chill imagining the way the clown’s smile would slowly morph into a horrifying frown with clenched teeth. To punish James for not showing him the proper respect, the clown would pull out a large and almost comical sized hatched and the last thing James would see would be his own face letting out a scream within the hatchet before being silenced for good.

When the room was behind James, he felt relieved. This feeling didn’t last long since when he approached the second room on his journey, the wheels of his imagination began to spin once more.

Now he imagined a zombie jumping from the darkness and sinking its rotting teeth into his throat, easily ripping it open and blood spraying his face. This wasn’t all James imagined. He imagined becoming a zombie and the first thought he would have in his virus corrupted mind was how he should go to his parents’ home and use them to fulfill his hunger. He pictured himself as a zombie bending over their bed and sinking his teeth into his mother’s face, the cheeks stretching like gum before snapping as she snapped wide awake, screaming in pain.

His father would look up in horror at his son’s discolored flesh and bloodshot eyes, attempting to get out of bed before James could pin him down and feast until his flesh and insides were completely picked off the bone.

The final dark room James passed he imagined walking by and hearing a creaking sound just like a stereotypical victim in a horror film would. He would play into the stereotype and walk into the room, curious as to what could’ve caused the noise instead of running away as far as he possibly could. He would look all over the room and see nothing until suddenly the closer door was smashed into pieces and a Frankenstein like creature would rush towards James, pick him up above his head and shoulder press him out the window. James imagined outside the window there would be a tree in the shape of a knife caused by multiple lightning strikes. He would of course land and be pierced upon the tree, the last thing he ever saw would be his blood drenching the sharp top of the tree, his intestines swirling around it like a macabre barber’s pole.

James finally made it to the bathroom and flipped on the light. He finally felt a sense of safety, a feeling of success after escaping his haunting imagination. When he finally began relieving his bladder, he felt like he was finally in his safe space.

As he urinated, James happened to look over towards the bathroom mirror and his stomach twisted when he once again felt the sudden dread of uncontrollable terror. Towering behind him was a demonic looking creature with the muscular definition of a comic book character. The horns on top of its head were large and razor sharp. Its eyes were rolled into the back of its head and yet James could feel the creature looking right at him, aware of his every move.

The creature let out a guttural moan and blood began to pour from its mouth. James began telling himself it was another horrible image his mind created until the creature gripped his shoulders with its large hands and foot long dirt covered nails. Not only did this creature possess an inhuman grip, but its flesh felt like hot coals. James screamed in pain and would’ve dropped to his knees of the creature didn’t hold him up. The creature began to laugh and finally let go. James screamed more when he saw the black and cooked flesh underneath the burnt and tattered shirt.

“If you shake it more than twice you’re playing with it James.” the creature said with a sadistic smile before laughing.

James was so horrified by this creature that he attempted to run away, unaware he was still urinating. He suddenly felt his foot slip into a puddle of urine and began uncontrollably spinning around as he fell down.

Before making it to the floor, his skull cracked open like an egg against the toilet.

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