Page 16 of Beautiful Nightmare

With each step, the fog parts for me, and the creatures hoot and chirp, communicating with one another, as I pass. An animal jumps over the top of my head, startling me; its paws skim the top of my head, and I freeze. It lands on the branch, and I hear it scurry up the tree trunk. I step forward and continue my journey.

Deep in, my eyes can barely see before me, and as I do, I allow instinct to take over and my feet guide me, gripping the earth with every step.

Suddenly, everything stills. All goes quiet. The forest is eerie, but I continue. The calmness my brain had with the sounds of the forest is no longer the case, and my mind begins to race. What is beyond this darkness? What lurks ahead that I cannot see? And what do they want with me?

Before my anxiety can create scenarios for each question, a loud tick fills my ears, echoing around me, and I pause. Eyes shift in an attempt to find the source, but before I do, a single sharp nail begins to slowly scrape along my exposed back.

Chills prick along my skin. A soft hiss flows from between their lips, followed by calculated clicks.

Panic sets in. My heart drops into my stomach, and my eyes begin to shift.

Refusing to turn around and face what is behind me, I shout, “Nope, not happening. Sorry!”

I’m not sure who or what I am apologizing to, but I am fucking out of here. On the tip of my toes, I scurry through the darkness; vines attempt to tickle my ankles and take a hold, but my body is in fight mode, and I don’t stay still long enough to allow it. The eyes peering around me are now shifting from white and yellow to greens, reds, and blues.

More clicking fills the void, the sharp nail now moving up my scalp, where my white and black hair parts. Adrenaline keeps me moving; fear stops me from turning around.

A flash of green light floods the dark forest, and a loud shriek erupts from my mouth. I close my eyes with my hands over my ears. “Make it stop!”

The ground moves beneath me, rumbling strong enough to make my legs shake with unease.

Why is this happening?

Tears well in my eyes, and for the first time in a very long time, I am scared.

Then as quickly as it started, it stops, and I still, not moving for minutes out of fear of what I will see if I open my eyes. The phantom touch of the sharpnail can still be felt against my skin, and as I remove my hands from my ears, the ticking has ended. Slowly, lashes leave my cheeks, rising with my opening eyes.

Darkness is no more; the forest has disappeared, and as my eyes adjust, I find myself in the graveyard of Hollows Grove, standing in front of the tombstones of my mothers.

No, no, no.

Falling to my knees, the adrenaline wears off, and I allow myself to lie in the grass above their plots, plots where no bodies reside, just a symbolic location where mourning assholes can come wallow and visit the spirits of the deceased.

My fingers grip the grass. An unfamiliar faint female voice whispers, but I barely hear it, though I can feel her soft, cool lips on the shell of my ear. “Run.”

With wide eyes, I rise, wasting no time, and flee.

Racing through the maze of gravestones and hedges, my legs carry me as my body is on autopilot. With no time to think, the iron gates come into view. Pumping my arms with wheezing lungs, I give it my all to get out of here before it’s too late.

The sky cracks, thunder roars, and rain is next to fall.

Warm droplets hit my face. At first, it’s only a drizzle, but the closer I get to the gates, the drizzle turns into a downpour, and the water droplets turn out to be red, crimson blood beading on my pale skin. The harder it falls, the beads break, streaking down my body. The taste of metal lines my tongue as I accidentally lick my lips. Red blurs my vision, but I don’t let it stop me.

A large tree root trips me, and I fall on my hands, causing my face to meet the ground hard.

The blood coating my body attempts to weigh me down, making it harder to rise, and my muscles ache from exhaustion, but the adrenaline kicks in once more, aiding my escape to safety.

Never once did I think Agatha Manor would be that place, but for tonight, and only tonight, it is.

Passing through the gates, my arm brushes against the cool iron, a welcomed sensation giving me if only a second of reprieve from the blood. But the moment both my feet pass through the threshold of the graveyard, the rain stops.

Confused, I look back, only to find nothing is falling from the skies.

My chest heaves, my throat is dry, and my hands attempt to wipe my face hopelessly. Panting breathlessly, I continue racing home. Having ended up atthe graveyard and not the familiar tree line I am used to it takes me longer to see the silhouette of the manor off in the distance, but it gives me hope with every step taken that I am almost safe, that the four walls will protect me.

But it still doesn’t answer the question: why is this happening?

MINE!