Paralyzed with Fear (Edited)
Nightmare or reality? Which one could it be
This short story is based on a real dream that I have experienced. Some things may be exaggerated slightly to make things seem more interesting. Enjoy :)
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It was around 1:30 in the morning as Scar, a 6'3 anthropomorphic black house cat, slipped into his favorite blue and red flannel pajamas. His body and head ached from the long, grueling day of dealing with rude and childish customers at Dominos. Every fiber of his being was begging for him to get into bed and sleep. He walked over to the bed and peeled back his light blue covers and slid in. His body was immediately encased in a heavenly feeling of warmth. A sigh of relief left his lips as he got comfortable. "Oh this feels so much better."
After a few minutes of messing around on his phone scrolling through Facebook, Scar felt the lids of his eyes getting heavier. The need for sleep grew by the second. He rolled over, plugged in his phone and set it on his bedside table. He fluffed his pillows before placing his head upon them and drifting off into a relaxing state of unconsciousness. Unfortunately the peace didn't last the entire night.
It was around 3 o'clock in the morning when the weary feline became conscious. This struck him as odd as it was extremely rare for him not to sleep through the night. He was lying on his back, his arms and legs laying straight under the covers. For whatever reason, he felt that something was amiss. His eyes groggily panned around the room, as a voice in the back of his head warned him to escape. At first glance, Scar couldn't find anything out of the ordinary. But the little voice kept urging him to escape, growing more and more insistent.
He tried to shrug it off as paranoia. 'Get it together Scar. You're 26 years old. That is way to old to fear the Boogie Man,' he thought to himself. He shut his eyes in an attempt to get back to sleep. However, the voice was now screaming at him, begging him to open his eyes. The words get out ran through his head rapidly for about 30 seconds before he reluctantly gave in to this strange urge. Scar reopened his eyes and looked around the room again, his vision now slightly more adjusted to the darkness within the room.
His blood turned to ice as his brain registered the sight before him. A tall, black figure sat crouching on the left side of his bed, with its head slightly turned towards him. Scar couldn't make out any discernable features, but he didn't need to. He could tell that whoever the figure was intensely staring at him. He tried to get up but his body wouldn't respond. He felt nothing. All he could do was lie there in the presence of the unknown intruder.
He felt as though time had stopped as he was forced to look upon the figure's face, unable to see his features due to the darkness surrounding it. It was then that the figure rose to its feet. He brandished what looked to be a large knife in its left hand. Through the dark he saw a dull white smile form across its face. It began drawing closer at a torturously slow pace. Scar wanted desperately to scream for help, but his maw wouldn't open and his vocal cords were tied in a knot.
It held up the knife and grazed it against the side of his cheek, pressing the sharpened blade hard enough for blood to seep out and soak into his dark black fur. But Scar felt nothing as the figure then brought the blade in front of his eyes, the scent of his own blood filling his paralyzed nostrils. A dark chuckle was heard coming from the figure as it leaned in and licked its tongue across the wound.
The thing stood back up and its haunting smile returned. The hand wielding the knife rose into the air above the terrified feline's head before the creature slammed it down aiming for Scar's neck.
Scar's eyes shot open as he screamed in terror. He sat up quickly and looked around. His breathing was heavy and his fur was drenched in sweat. He looked around to make sure everything was safe. He sighed in relief and put his hand over his left eye.
He felt a stinging sensation on his cheek and a heavy dampness on the palm of his hand. He grabbed the phone from his night stand. He turned on built in flashlight and angled the light at his palm to see what it was. The fear returned as his realized what it was. Blood.
He dropped the phone out of fear and it hit the floor. The phone propped up at an angle and shed a stream of light on the wall. The words "Sleep well." Where etched into the drywall with the knife still stuck in it, covered with his blood.