Horror logo

Monster in a Human Form

Nightmares have never been unfamiliar to me. When I was a kid, I dreamt about running away from someone, and while I was running in the dark, every time I looked back, I could see the silver knife shining in the moonlight. I would wake up sweaty, shivering. I never thought my nightmares could come true.

By Jamesson AciertoPublished 3 years ago 4 min read
Like
Monster in a Human Form
Photo by Kamil Feczko on Unsplash

One afternoon when my two best friends -Mike and Thomas - came over for a sleepover, we, as usual,

I turned off the lights and started telling horror stories.

"Did you hear the news? There's a serial killer in your neighborhood," Mike whispered.

I thought he was joking, and I laughed, but my friends were silent, staring at me like I was insane.

"We aren't pranking you, Liam. Everyone's talking about it," said Thomas.

I chuckled again. "It must be another false rumor," I said and started telling a new story I had just read about aliens. My friends were listening to me, but I could feel they were inattentive: they were still thinking about the

rumor.

On Monday morning, while I was having breakfast before going to school, we heard a dreadful sound of screaming. I jumped up and looked outside.

"Don't go out, Liam," I heard my mother saying, but I was already running outside.

Everyone had gathered in the backyard of Mrs. Jones's house - our neighbor. The crowd was gathered around something. I couldn't see what it was, but I noticed red liquid leaking through their feet. It took me a few minutes to realize it was blood. It was a winter day, and the streams of blood looked extremely vivid on the snow. I was a first-grader, so it was hard for me to figure out what was going on. I got closer to the people. Some of them were crying; some of them covered their faces with hands; some of them couldn't take their eyes off the ground. I saw Mr. Smith - our neighbor from across the street - calling an ambulance. I pushed people away and got in the crowd, and I saw it: a girl was lying on the ground with her hands spread and legs put together just like the shape of a cross. Blood was flowing out of her throat; her body was stiff with cold. Her eyes were open and empty. You could see the surprise on her face as if she died wondering what was happening to her. She was one of the most beautiful girls in the town. I heard howling, and I saw Mrs. Jones getting on her knees and hugging the body. She was her mother. I still can't erase that scene from my memory: crying mother clutching her dead daughter.

Few weeks had passed after that event, and there was no victim until one morning when we saw the news on TV. There had been another murder in our town. But this time, the killer wasn't satisfied with just one victim. There were two - a boy and a girl, both in their twenties. They had been killed while walking from a bar on Saturday night. They chose the shorter path, which was convenient for the killer. No one could see them. It looked like the killer was following them from school. I saw shots of the murder scene. The corpses were lying on their faces, and they had several wounds on their whole body. They laid in a puddle of blood. The news said police couldn't find any fingerprints or trace of footsteps. It was a perfect murder. The killer made no mistake.

After a week, I went to a family restaurant with my mother. As I went into the bathroom to wash my hands, I heard sounds coming from the last bathroom stall. Someone was mumbling and whispering. I drew closer and heard scratching as if someone was digging their nails into the walls. I was horrified, but the curiosity was so big it compensated for the fear. I looked down and peeked into the bathroom stall. Streams of blood were slowly dribbling on the floor. I jumped up and opened the door at a stroke. I saw dead bodies, three or four, maybe five, lying on top of each other. The blood was running down from their necks, arms, stomachs. The drops of blood were splashed on the walls too. A man was standing with his back at me, but he turned around in a second. It was Mr. Smith - the neighbor from across the street! I had never imagined his face could have that dreadful expression. He was holding a bloody knife in his left arm. Mr. Smith, we all knew, was gone. He was a monster in a human form. He saw me and tried to grab my hand, but I ran as fast as I could. I had never thought that being the best athlete in my class would help me stay alive. I was running, and I felt like I was in my nightmare. My heart was pounding. I was screaming so loud I felt like my lungs were going to burst.

In a few minutes, police put shackles on Mr. Smith. He looked at me. I could read the disappointment on his face. I watched how the police took him to the police station. I knew it was the last time I was seeing Mr. Smith. After that, I lived an ordinary life: graduated, got into college, but the memories never leave me. Sometimes I see the nightmares from my childhood: I'm still running from someone, but this time I can see his face. It's Mr. Smith following me to take revenge.

fiction
Like

About the Creator

Jamesson Acierto

Just your local Filipino Korean Boiii ^-^

If you enjoy my stories, feel free to leave a tip at any cost if you want more bigger stories.

IG: jamesson.acierto

Reader insights

Be the first to share your insights about this piece.

How does it work?

Add your insights

Comments

There are no comments for this story

Be the first to respond and start the conversation.

Sign in to comment

    Find us on social media

    Miscellaneous links

    • Explore
    • Contact
    • Privacy Policy
    • Terms of Use
    • Support

    © 2024 Creatd, Inc. All Rights Reserved.