Gothic Story

Why could the stairs not be silent?

My nervousness was increased as the eerie creaking broke the silence I had strived so hard to create. It would surely know. The sound had been so very loud. But it was too late to turn around now. I took another step and sighed as no sound came from them. Slowly but surely I made my way up them. Five left. Four left. Three left. Two left. One left. Sweat rolled down my face and soaked the front of my linen shirt. Could it smell fear? I stopped. I quickly risked a quick glance over my shoulder but I was still alone, without anyone to help me, anyone to save me. As I took my last step, the sound of furniture being hurled around a room forced me to stop. It must have been in a rage. I could hear the sound of chairs being splintered and tables being split in a violent frenzy committed to sate its hate filled desires. My hands shook like leaves before a tempest. My fear took control of me. It forced me a step down. Then another. Finally, the noise ceased. However I was now more scared than before as I didn’t know where it was, or what it was doing.

For several long minutes I did nothing but stand and listen.

Listen for the sound of it moving, the sound of it breathing. Then it occurred to me that I did not even know if it breathed. I didn’t know if it, was an it? I didn’t know if it was real. It was this thought that gave me new hope. New courage. It helped me master my fears and I took a step forward. Then another. Soon I was up the stairs and I cast my eyes around me to try and pick anything out from the thick darkness. I could see little and the darkness fuelled my fear as I sought out something I recognised to give me bearing as to where safety lay. I saw my bedroom door, smashed of its hinges and a broken wreck, it welcomed me into the all encasing darkness within. I did not dare to light a candle for fear the beacon would draw it to me; darkness was better than death. That was if it was not a figure of my imagination, but it couldn’t be. No human could break down three inches of solid oak as easily as one could snuff out a small and fragile match. At the other side of the room I was thankful that my window was still open. A cold draft chilled me, but I shivered not just from the cold. For a brief moment I considered jumping out the window and running to get help, or just running away like I had done so many times in the past. But I knew that I had to face whatever it was in the other room and that this was a problem I couldn’t run from. Anyway I would have looked like a fool if I ran to others out of fear moulded by my imagination.

The things noisy movements began again and they masked any noise I made as my bare feet shimmied across the floorboards. Hugging the wall as I went it was not long before I was next the door. Surprisingly it had no marks on it and was slightly ajar. A red glow came through the slit. Not a normal red. A blinding vermillion flaming red, a bold carmine red and a dark crimson blood red all at once. Surely it was not possible for such a colour to exist. But it did. And it was coming from the room that I had to enter. I summoned all the courage I could muster and pushed the door open and the sight that greeted me is one I will never forget. Around the room lay the remnants of furniture I had devoted much of my life to collect; a hand carved rosewood desk that had been my place of work for nigh on twenty years had been split in two; a collection of four Hitchcock armchairs made of the finest mahogany money could buy were nothing but splinters, strewn across the room. However it was not the utter destruction of my belongings that stopped me from going further into the room. It was the sudden realisation that the room was empty. Where was it? It was at that moment that I realised I was not alone in the room. Across from me was the entity that I had spent the past few hours being terrified of. I cannot describe what it was for it was everything and nothing. It had no shape but a flowing essence that took a new shape every second that passed. It had the body of a human. No. It had changed to have three arms and three legs and at a third glance it had an innumerable amount of each. It was as dark as the darkness around it but I could still see it bright as day. It was horrific yet beautiful, fascinating yet repulsive, composed yet deadly. Never before had I been so terrified of something and yet so captivated. It took me several seconds to realise that it was moving towards me, slowly at first, but then with increasing speed. Within a matter of seconds it was in front of me and staring at me. My perception of my surroundings disappeared as my mind gave in to the fear. It threatened to completely take me over as I ran out of the room, out of the house, out of my nightmare.