The Nightmare

by Keira Hurditch 2 years ago in fiction

A Little Story

The Nightmare

She's on the side of the road, her breath unsteady and her head beating like a thousand drums.

He was coming for her and he wasn't going to stop. One stupid mistake had cost her whole life.

Why couldn't she just stay away? Why did she have to seek shelter in that horrid house?

She tried calling out to the many cars passing her but just one look at her in her bloody state was enough to make them step on it.

So much for chivalry.

Her throat was hoarse, she'd screamed so much that her voice was now matching the pitch of a small mouse.

The deep gash in her leg was still bleeding, dark red liquid oozing out of its wound. Her ribs were surely broken and her ankle was most definitely twisted.

A twig snapped and a look of horror crossed the girl's face and she looked back into the woods.

She could not see anything, her only source of light was the moonlight. A big, illuminating circle in the night sky of twinkling stars.

What a day to die. A beautiful night sky always fascinated her since being a young girl.

She'd always be seated at her windowsill, head in hands as her ocean blue eyes focused on the magnificent sky in front of her.

It made her feel safe, she always imagined the stars as people she had lost, watching down on her like guardian angels.

She always thought she'd be a star one day. Maybe that day is today.

She'd seen many horror movies before, there was a 3/10 chance of her getting away from a killer.

A car light flickers in the distance but the lump in her throat has hardened and she still cannot speak.

Maybe if she waved her arms like a madmen they'll see her. The woman steps out into the road, her body slightly shivering in the cold wind of the night.

"Help." Her voice is small and it's as if she's whispering. Her whole body aches as she flares her arms in the air, she's desperate.

As many of the other cars had done, it passed right by her as if she was invisible.

A chuckle emits from somewhere behind her and she whimpers, limping across the road as quickly as she could.

Her ankle kills as she walks on the injured foot and she hisses like a snake, every part of her body aches.

She's almost across the road before everything goes silent and her mind goes blank.

What is happening? She asks herself but she already knows. She moves a shaky hand down her body before her legs give out and she tumbles to the floor.

Sticky liquid drips out her body like spilled milk and she cries out, her voice timid.

He'd shot her.

She's rolled onto her back as the figure steps over her. She had not seen his face yet since it had always been covered by a thick black hoodie and a bandana.

The figure raises his chubby fingers to his hood and pulls it off his head, the moonlight suddenly reflecting on him.

She gasps in horror, she cannot believe the person standing over her limp body.

It's her husband.

How could he? Why?

What had she ever done to him?

But she forces herself to wake up.

It's just a dream. Wake up.

Her eyes squeeze tightly shut, maybe if she wishes enough, she can wake up.

Come on. Come on Marie.

Wet tears slide down her face before her heart stops beating and the thoughts stop swimming around in her head.

It's too late. The girl's already gone.


She's in a state of panic, her whole body is covered in a heavy cold sweat as she rises up.

Her voice is clear and she lets out frightened whimpers. Her hand grasps at her chest for the gun wound but it's not there. Not even a trace of it.

Her chest rises up and falls back down again, her eyes flickering around the room.

The room.

It was just a dream!

She breathes out a sigh of relief and chuckles. What a nightmare!

Her head falls back down onto the soft pillow as she closes her eyes.

She opens them again and moves her head to the side. Her husband is on his side and facing away from her.

She wanted to tell him about the dream but felt something was off.

Her eyebrows furrow and she stretches her arm out across him to turn on the lamp.

The light flickers once but illuminates the whole room. There it is again.

The lump in her throat and the panic.

She was even shaking by the time she moves her husband onto his back.

His neck is slit and crimson still leaks out of it, his eyes rolled into the back of his skull.

An almighty scream leaves the woman's lips as horror seeps over her. She can't stop the screams emitting from the back of her throat as tears sting her eyes.

He's dead. He's dead!

Her body tumbles out of the bed in shock. She can't believe it. She thought it was just a nightmare.

But now it's him who is dead and not her. She loved him and he was gone.

Maybe this was another dream. Maybe if she closed her eyes, she'd wake up again.

Surely she'd just had two nightmares in a row. Wake up Marie. Wake up!

The tears were still forming as she crawled into a ball on the cold wooden floor. She was like a small child afyer having a tantrum.

Harsh tears falling down her face, her mouth latched on her hand to stop the desperate cries leaving her mouth.

Someone had been here. Someone had killed him. They could still be here. They-they.

Her mind was panicked as she finally reached for the house phone on her nightstand and dialled 911, her shivers making it hard too.

"911. What's your emergency?"

"M-my h-husband is de-"

The line blurred.

Somebody was coming up the stairs.


This took me a while to get up but I finally did. Writer's block is a pain and I always seem to get it.

Keira Hurditch
Keira Hurditch
Read next: Run Necromancer
Keira Hurditch

I love writing and do it too much 💓💓💓

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