Sunday, October 11, 2015

Morgue



Grogginess pulled at my eyelids. 
Eyesight evaporating. 
Adrenaline rushed. 
Forgot. 
What was it? Sleep called to me, a powerful seductress easing me out of consciousness. 
Realization. 
It was cold. Why was it so cold? 
Where was I? 
I tried to think of the things that happened, but... 
Couldn't. 
She was whispering in my ear, "It's alright, just sleep." 
I almost gave in. 
So hard not to. 
I stood and shook my limbs, looking around, not knowing where I was. 
It was dark. 
Dark and cold, cold and dark. 
I wondered if I was still asleep, just dreaming. 
No. 
I was too awake to be asleep, if that made any sense. 
I touched the nearest wall, feeling for a switch, fear beginning to creep through my foggy barrier of sleep. 
I found instead a handle and pulled instinctively, reaching inside. 
Metal. 
Cold. 
Cold. 
Soft. Soft? 
It rose to a high peak and fell, flat lining and rising at a slow but steady pace. 
I froze, sleep forgotten as I realized what I touched. 
And screamed.

5 comments:

  1. AGH This gave me chills! This has such great potential to be a story or writing prompt!! AGH I just can't help but love it! It appeals so much to my style of writing!

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  2. This is so good Stephen King has some competition.

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  3. This is so mind blowing, I just can't wrap my head around how amazing this writing is of yours, great work!

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  4. I loved the voice in this. You did a such a great job building suspense with those short, snappy sentences. I liked how you really put us in the head of the narrator. I would love to see more.

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