Tuesday, 15 November 2011

A dark snippet

Image: 'moonlit' by Robert S. Donovan

Strange pressure on the eardrum, a fading beat that could have been a heart, then the absence of sound; the silence of a predator watching.

She would fear no evil.

The sheets scrunched back and the room seemed abnormally cold, winter chill imitating black vacuum; the breeze from the window gusted across her body like a gasp from the dead. She floated in the no-space, needing an anchor.

She would fear no evil.

She placed her feet on the rug, tangled fibres tickling slightly. There was no sense of movement around her. Nothing sprang silently. Just a taste of sourness in sleepy mouth.

Turning the light on would give in to fear, feed it. She must not let it grow, this interior mutation. There was nothing to fear. She would be safe moving around the house in the dark.

With a shudder she began to grope her way across the room. It really was incredibly cold and black...


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