I have not posted in a while and I apologise, but here I am and with something to share!
I thought to share a piece of my creative writing I have been working on. The genre is horror, and the story is definitely not completed.
This is a piece from a long story/novel I have been attempting to write, so I would appreciate readers and feedback :))
It is rather lengthy despite it being only a piece, but I would appreciate it if you took the time to read 🙂 I do hope you enjoy!
I felt nauseous at first but then all the other symptoms kicked in, even after all the medicine. I had been straining my eyes to concentrate on the road for the last few hours, but nothing seems to be working.
My head feels dizzy as the road begins to blur. I can’t grasp whether this is due to my eyes or the pouring rain. I should stop. Going further might be a bad idea. My debate on whether to stop or keep going seems fruitless as I continue to search for some non-existing space on the road to pull over. The best option now seems to keep going until I am through the mountain pass. My eyes strain as I search the road for signs. I swerve twice avoiding the fence between me and the cliff edge. What are you doing Ellie?
I want to bury my head in my hands out of frustration for not taking Dr Esker’s offer of accompanying me along the long journey. My head is pounding and I want to throw up. The road continues to blur more and more; the pain in my head worsening. Ten minutes passed and now the road seems to have reached the peak of the mountain and is beginning to descend, revealing a large sign glowing in my headlights. The sign reads in big, bold letters TOWN OF MASSIVE, POPULATION: 500. I got my first glimpse of the Town of Massive.
The sun is rising now, casting a blood red glow over the land and forest surrounding the town. From my high view, the one road that goes all the way through the town and out the other side can be seen. That will be the road I will take once I’ve rested up. I thought then, just for a moment, that maybe I should just pass through and rest at the next town, feeling I could push to go further. But the pain in my head punched at my thoughts and the idea quickly passed. No. I need to rest.
The descent finally ended and I am now driving on flat, even ground. The scenery of the dense, luscious forest is beautiful. Deciding that a cigarette might help ease the pain in my head I roll down my window slightly, but a freezing wind briskly kisses my face and hands. I immediately roll my window back up.
The whole town must still be in bed as the streets are empty and shops are closed. I watch some of the shop lights come on as I drive past. The owners must be preparing for the day’s customers. No one is out or walking and who is to blame them, it’s freezing. I pull over into the town’s motel. I search through my clothes and old coffee cups scattered on the passenger chair for my bag, phone and coat, quickly dressing for the frigid air. Prepared for the cold air to embrace me, I step outside the vehicle. Although I have layers on I still shiver as I walk quickly to the reception. Nearly slipping twice on the frosty grass I hurry to the warmth of the indoors, each time trying to laugh off the embarrassment but fail to.
After making it up the three steps to the porch, I peer through the frosted glass. The lights in the reception are on and the sign reads “OPEN 24/7! ALL ARE WELCOME”. The freezing air is abandoned as I close the door behind me, welcoming the warmth of the fire burning adjacent the front desk.
I tap the bell on the desk and wait for the nice landlady to come and welcome me, offering tea like in every motel in every book I’ve read. But nothing happened. Five minutes passed. Nothing. I ring it again, readjusting my smile awaiting service. Nothing. Growing uneasy by now, I attempt to reassure myself by imagining some old lady snoring in the back, forgetting to set her alarm. I am about to go around the desk and through the back to look for service, but I pause thinking I should probably show some ID or money to justify my hasty request for a room.
As I am digging through my bag, my heart sinks. I had left my purse in the hospital drawer next to the bed. Even after repeatedly telling myself not to forget it, I did. After all this trouble, I still would have to settle for interrupted naps on the backseat of my car. At least this option saves me the trouble of looking for service and spending money. I walk to the door and brace for the cold wind which meets me on cue.
I hurry towards my car, open the back door and collapse on the seat. The pain in my head is worse than ever and I blink numerous times hoping it would stop affecting my vision, but that too is worse than ever. The blurriness of the ceiling of my car fades as my eyes close. The sun rises fully and glares through the frost on the window.
My eyes are tired as I open them and my head paining numbly as an aftershock from the previous intense pain. Not an improvement, but not the worst pain I’ve experienced. I sit up adjusting my clothes, hoping not to look like I’ve just woken up. Glancing out my car window, I blink at least ten times hoping after each one that what I am seeing is not true, but what I see doesn’t change. No no no no no! Opening the door, I leap out of the car. It can’t be evening already! How long was I out?! No no no! I jump as I feel the sensation of cold fingertips tapping my face. Snow! No! Pacing around the car, I try to calm my frustration. After walking around the car four times, I stop by the driver’s door. Ok Ellie, no problem. Let’s just refuel the car and get on our way, dark or not. I pull at the driver’s handle, but the door refuses to budge. My head becomes hot with anger as I repeatedly try all the other car doors. Great. Locked out my own car. Taking a deep breath, I try to calm my thoughts. Calm down Ellie. Just look for a locksmith or someone to help.
The Motel parking lot seems empty still and all the lights are on. The town is lit peacefully with all the lights of the shops and homes. I walk once again quickly to the motel’s front office and desk. Opening the door, I am welcomed by the warmth of the fire, again. I tap the bell on the desk, not actually expecting an answer. Still no one came, but I had grown impatient and made the decision to march around the desk and open the door into the back.
Walking through the employees’ door, the atmosphere suddenly changed. The air isn’t veiled by the warmth of the fire behind the doors I had just walked through, but instead it has a cold, unwelcoming presence. I can feel my heart beating faster than usual – an unusual reaction to a perfectly harmless area. What am I so panicked about?
I stand before a passage leading to a door ten meters away, with a door on the left and two doors on the right. I want to call out, alerting whoever works here that I am trespassing only as an emergency, but something inside me silences my voice on instinct. The first door is on my right so I move slowly towards it. I place one foot slowly in front of another, pausing between each step and balancing trying to make the least noise possible, almost swaying and looking like a mantis in my effort.
After a few large steps I reach the first door. The room is empty except for a desk and papers, all undisturbed. I enter the closet size room and pick up a few papers from the desk. Just a bunch of numbers and payments, nothing unusual or worth the attention. I shuffle the papers and glance at each one, not sure what I am hoping to find. I pause and the speed of my beating heart doubles as a loud noise can be heard from further down the passage. The sudden sound is alarming, and resembled that of a pot falling to a tiled floor. Is there someone here after all? I stand there staring at the open doorway expecting something awful to appear.
My body is on full alert. My breathing is shallow and I am covered in goosebumps. Is my body aware of something my mind isn’t? I slowly put the papers down and peer into the passage. All the doors are still closed. I slowly make my way down the passage. I grasp the handle of the second door on the right, my fingers twisting around the cold brass handle. Turning it slowly, I hear all the mechanisms turn to open the door. Opening it an inch, I peer in.
The room inside is much larger and is brightly lit. I open it another inch and peer closer. It’s the motel kitchen. Glancing behind me, I realize only now that I am crouching on my knees. As silly as I feel, I do not budge from my position. Taking two short and quiet breaths, I enter the room still crouching. The kitchen consists of an island counter, two sinks, two large ovens attached to the wall on the right, and some cupboards either side of four windows which reveal the parking lot outside where my car, the only car, stands lit by the lamppost. Near the large two ovens, two pots lay on the floor. The noise.
I rise from my crouching position to reveal my figure, making anyone in the room aware of my presence, despite the unnerving feeling that whoever I felt is watching knew I was there a long time ago. Slowly, I move around the island towards the sinks, hearing my boots kiss the tiles gently. The sinks’ surfaces are wet from a previous use. The obvious questions are at the front of my mind, but I carry on moving through the area. Utensils are out and I glance at the knives, wondering if I dare equip. No, don’t be ridiculous Ellie.
Deciding to move out of the kitchen, I head to the door on the left side of the passage. As I open the door, I am hit with a terrible, stomach-churning smell. I take two huge steps back, covering my nose as I begin to gag. My eyes begin watering at the severity of the smell.
I glance inside the room, but there is no source of the smell. It is a bedroom, with the bed covers neatly made, and items in this room undisturbed as well. There is a bedside table, a lamp, a queen-sized bed, an air vent and very feminine decor. Must be the landlady’s room, whom I had the undesirable thought I would never meet. Closing the door, I swiftly pivot on my heels and head to the final door at the end of the passage. One more whiff of that smell would surely make me vomit. I laugh at myself briefly. Vomit what? I haven’t eaten in hours. All I had time to do was take my routine dosage of the medication before I left. I pause and my stomach lurches. Oh no. My medication. It’s in the car. Moving quickly I open the door at the end of the passage and am met by snow and freezing air. Although the air is freezing and it is snowing, I do not hesitate to move outside. The cold air seems more hostile than the atmosphere in the back of the motel.
I walk from the back entrance of the motel office along the side alley, and then down the main road into the town. The streets are empty and the snow is beginning to fall quicker. I could use a cigarette right now, but of course that too is in my locked car. The only things I have are the contents in my coat, being my lighter and a tissue. No medicine, no phone, no keys of course and no money. I have never felt so isolated and alone in a town of 500 people.
The houses ahead are mostly lit inside and seem welcoming, but I feel it is all a veil. I remember back to the knife in the kitchen. Should I have taken it?
My hands are nuzzled deep in my pockets and can feel the cold air on my face as I walk. I want to knock on a door, but would anyone answer? I have not passed any of the houses yet, only shops. Most of the shops bore the sign “OPEN”, but I cannot see any movement through the windows. Some of the shops are not lit and seem equally menacing to the well-lit shops. It must be the time of night, the lack of food and aching head that is misleading my thoughts and judgements. I am scaring myself.
Passing COTTON CANDY’S CANDY SHOP, SIMON’S SHOES and DIANA’S SPA, I arrive at the fuel station. I walk towards the fuel station’s quick shop for quick buys, as the logo reads, and am greeted by automated glass doors. The shop is small, but is packed with snacks and beverages. The store also has other contents like toilet paper, tissues, cooking oil, baking powders and coffees. It seems to have all sorts of things you would buy if you needed it on the go, or at an inconvenient time. I glide towards the counter and am not surprised when there is no one to greet me. I stand at the counter, attempting to peer into the back. Then, out of the corner of my eye, I see movement. Once again, my body freezes as it becomes covered in goosebumps. Slowly, I turn my head to face the direction of the movement. My heart races as I prepare to confront whatever lurks in the store.
But there is nothing, except a security camera rotating on cue with a blinking red light. It is only now that I am aware of how fast my heart is beating and the sudden coldness in the store. I turn my body to face the glass doors, retracing my steps without haste. Five feet from the door, I hear some items behind me fall from the shelves and hit the floor. I stop, my eyes wide. Without thinking, I look behind me.
Crouching on the floor, something is occupied with the broken cans of food. My eyes scan the long limbs, protruding spine, and the corpse like complection. It’s back is facing me, and all I can hear is the most disgusting sounds coming from the creature. It seems to be busy with the mess on the floor, and not at all interested in me. I want to feel relieved, but am too quick to realise that it has not yet noticed me. I want to run; run for my life with all the energy I can muster, but my body refuses to move. I panic internally, trying to convince my limbs that it is okay to move, to flee. Please. I beg myself to move, but I remain cemented to the spot. The creature continues to broadcast awful choking and gurgling sounds, shoving the mess down its throat. Not daring to blink, I watch it grab chunks of the mess with sharp fingernails attached to long, boney and strong-looking fingers. The creature turns it’s head to the side and I catch a glimpse of it’s repulsive mouth. All I see are it’s teeth – dozens of long, razor-sharp teeth. That was enough. I turn sharply and run, jumping through the small gap as the automatic doors slowly open, hearing a struggle of movement behind me.
I run into the night, the darkness and cold. Ahead of me lies the main road, and behind me I hear the strong, quick movements of the creature accompanied by grunts and unrecognisable sounds. Tears run down my face and seem to freeze before they can fall. My arms flail and my legs carry me to the beat of my pounding heart. All I can feel is the cold and my body aching from the sudden movement. Adrenaline is suppose to kick in now, but my sickness has progressed too much to allow this much movement or any additional help from my body. My body seems to be more of a liability than an asset as I struggle to keep moving. I cannot keep this up for much longer. Please legs, carry me further. Please. But I cannot run anymore. My pleading ends as I collapse on the ground, ploughing through the snow.
I lay on my side with my knees bent towards my chest, wincing as I attempt to sit up. My body refuses any request for movement so I lay there, in the snow, awaiting death.
Once again I feel the sharp, familiar pain in my head. My vision blurs as my eyelids become heavy. Instead of fighting it, I succumb to the darkness willingly and feel my now heavy body become numb from the snow. The small noises in the still night grow faint until they eventually abandon me as well.