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Dark as Night

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Author's note: Written by Zach Zeman aka The Hooded Werewolf

Hole in Barn Floor

"There is a large hole in the floor."

It is midnight. There is rain outside. The smells of must and hay fill my nostrils. I stand up from my resting place. This is some sort of barn.

How did I get here?

I look for a door or window of sorts, but I only see the outline of a barrel five feet away from me, and the hay that is on the floor.

How big is this place?

I hear the building creak under pressure as the wind blows and rain hits the side of the barn. There is a hole in the roof. A puddle is forming several feet from me, the hay getting damp and the soft ground underneath becoming a form of sludge.

How do I get out?

I begin to feel my way around, walking here and there, reaching for a wall. I eventually find one to my left and I follow my way along this wall until I reach a doorway. I stop, turn and look in. There is the faintest light glowing in the back of the room. Not daylight, but a glow from some source.

Is it a lantern?

I advance toward the glow. I reach my hand out at the source, I can see my fingertips. There is something dark underneath my fingernails. It might be dirt or blood. I can't tell. If it is blood, it is not mine. I touch the glowing light. It is a dying lantern, with only a little oil left.

Will it last long enough?

That voice. I am hearing that voice.

Is it my thoughts?

It cannot be my thoughts. I am thinking right now. I cannot speak.

Why can I not speak?

That does not sound like my voice nor my thoughts. There is someone else with me. Something else.

Who is there?

I pick up the lantern and turn to walk back down the narrow corridor of which I came. There is a shadowy figure standing in the doorway. It appears to be a woman.

Who is that?

The woman turns and walks out of the doorway. I chase after her using what little light I have, and once I have gone through the doorway, I quickly turn left and then right.

Where did she go?

That voice. I am not saying that. It is coming from above me... no... to my left... no... to my right... no... behind me.... I quickly turn around and see who is there... no.

Where is that voice coming from?

I feel as if I am being taunted. This voice can read my thoughts, it knows my confusion, it knows my pain.

It knows my confusion, how?

I need to find that voice. It needs to stop. I turn to my left and continue to walk through the room. The light from the lantern lets me see about three feet in front of me and below me. There is a large hole in the floor.

Is that where the voice is?

That voice might be coming from down there. I would climb into the hole, if I actually had the courage to do so. I keep on walking. There is a slight shuffling next to me. I turn and shine the light at whatever moved. I see nothing but darkness. The room is too big for the light to reach fully across.

Is there any way out of here?

If that voice does not stop I will scream my eyeballs out. I just realized. I cannot open my mouth. I reach my hand to feel my lips.

Where did my lips go?

The voice, the voice took my lips, my mouth. I cannot speak, I cannot eat. I can breathe, I still have my nose.

What if my nose gets stuffy?

The voice knows my fear. It knows where I am, the only way of escaping is finding a way out. I begin to run. The room seems nearly endless, as big as a ballroom.

Will I ever reach the end?

I am still running. I trip. There was another hole in the ground. This one was smaller. I am lucky I didn't fall in, under the floorboards where the voice may dwell. I scramble back up and keep moving. There must be an end. I take one more step and the oil in the lantern dies out.

How will I find my way?

Every time the voice asks a question, it gets louder. It wants me to be scared, it wants me to be angry. It is getting what it wants. I need to leave. I take several more steps and fall. There was a hole in the floor. I am underneath the floorboards. I hear footsteps above me.

Who is up there?

I hear footsteps behind me and then someone or something falls through the hole. I turn and run the way I came. I do not know where I am going, I am under the floor. If I can reach the hole near where I woke up, I can climb out, maybe I can break through the boards in the room where the oil lantern was.

Who is behind me?

The voice is behind me. It knows. It continues to ask the questions.

How much further till the hole?

I keep running, this seems to be taking longer than it did before.

What if I already passed the hole?

I begin to reach above my head while running. I feel the floorboards, the boards are wet and soggy. I must be near the leak. I stop and frantically feel above my head. I rub my fingers across dirt, the dirt falls on my face and I quickly brush it off. The floorboards stop and there is space. I stick my hands through the hole and pull myself out.

Where is the lantern room?

I climb out of the hole and feel my way along the hole until I reach the room. I turn and run down the corridor until I hit the wall.

What about that woman?

I remember this is where I saw the spectre of the woman. I begin attempting to break my way out of the room. I pound my fists against the rotting, wooden wall. The boards begin to crack. I hit again.

Is it coming?

I break my fist through the board and I begin to rip other boards out of the wall. I reach my hands through and feel empty space. I pull myself up in an attempt to climb through the hole I have created.

What if I cannot fit?

I cannot fit. I hear the footsteps approaching. I turn and see the woman walking down the corridor. I look and see there are more figures in the room.

Who are they?

The figures approach me slowly. I try with all of the strength I possess to force my way through the hole. It isn't working.

Who are you?

The voice is no longer just there. It is right in my ear. I turn and look to see what is there. I see nothing. It is as if the voice is in my mind. The voice is controlling my thoughts.

There is no escape.

I fall out from the hole in the wall. I hit the floor. I blackout. I do not remember what happens next.

It is midnight. There is rain outside. The smells of must and hay fill my nostrils... I stand up from my resting place. This is some sort of barn...

How did I get here?

And then I remember...



Written by The Hooded Werewolf
Content is available under CC BY-SA

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