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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 

The Patient - 2. Part 2 - Nightmares

Scenes are a bit gory and detailed, it may be a little frightening for some... other than that read at your own risk.

Something was not right, and she could sense it. She could feel another presence in the room. A dark and evil presence, one that wanted to hurt people. Before she could even realize what she was doing, she reached down and grabbed her right hand to quell its shaking. She looked down and noticed she was clutching her pencil with an iron grip. So hard that her knuckles began to turn white. But that's not what worried her. What worried her most was the fact that she couldn’t seem to let go. Her hand was frozen, was she scared. She looked up to see if the boy had noticed, maybe he was the cause. She'd had a few fellow doctors tell her that they'd dealt with patients who were adept at hypnosis. They had warned her of the importance of reading a patient's files. And of course, she always ignored their warnings, that she thought were jokes that were meant to scare. For the first time in her life, she felt fear. Not just any fear, real fear. A fear for her life.

She looked up expecting to see some wickedly evil smile on his face, taunting her naivety. She expected to see the devil himself. All the demons of the imagination gathered into one being, one face. She was terribly surprised at how wrong she was.

He was staring at her, eyes wide open. They were bloodshot red. His face twisted like he was having an agonizing heart attack. His nose flared fighting to take in the air. His mouth gaping. Trying to fumble out words. Which to her was quite incoherent. She could make out only a few words.

“... L.. Llll.. Look. B… Mmmm. Look Bbbb… Look behind... Yyyy… ouuu.”

That‘s when she felt it. A cold bony grasp on her shoulder. Just out of the corner of her eye she saw a dark grey hand. One that was definitely not that of a human. It was covered in scales starting at the base of the fingers. Leading down to what appeared to be eagle talons. Sharp and quite deadly, built for ripping and tearing. She quickly snapped her eyes back towards the boy. Immensely fearing the thing that stood behind her. She closed her eyes, and for the first time in a long time, she began to pray.

“Lord god! Jesus Christ! Save me, please Jesus don't let me die! I'll devote my life to you, just don't let me die. I didn't believe but now I do. Christ, I swear on my life that I'll repent. Please…”

She couldn't finish, in place of her repentant pray she let out a pain filled scream. Triggered by the monster digging its claws into her shoulder. It was like someone drove five frozen splintered wooden stakes into her arm. The whole room became extremely cold. It was as if she was standing outside in the midst of January. Trapped three feet in the snow, freezing from her toes to her ears. The only comfort she found was the warm sticky blood oozing down her shoulder. Creeping its way down her armpits and into her bra. It faintly tickled as it made its way down her side and puddle in her seat. Margaret could feel herself drifting. Either she was about to die or she was fainting.

She sat there frozen with sheer terror drifting to imminent death. Her eyes locked on the boy in front of her confined with terror. She dare not lay eyes on the beast that had this boy paralyzed with fear. She could only hope and silently pray that they got out of this alive. She hoped that an exorcist priest would rush into the damp room with a crucifix to send the beast back to the darkest pits of hell. That a renowned demon hunter would come busting through the window, hunting the mysterious and ancient creature. She hoped that any minute she’d wake from this nightmare, in her bed sweating. Silently thanking god for her safe return to reality. Deep down, she even had the slightest hope that the monster would take the boy, or kill him. Leaving her fatally wounded, but alive. She even started contemplating praying to the devil, to ensure god’s existence; since he refused to answer her. Either way, she knew these were all fevered dreams. Lost hopes, that fell on deaf ears. Those types of things only happen in the movies, she thought. Were both gonna die, this is the last thing I'll ever see. The face of a frightened child. I wonder if I or he will die first.

She was broken from her thoughts of demise by the smell of rotting corpses and blood. Although she had never smelled the latter, she was pretty sure that's what it was. The smell was pungently followed by the faint scent of dirt. She could feel the decaying breath on the nape of her neck traveling around the curves of her shoulder tops. She could feel its breath getting hotter and hotter as the atrocity began to lean in closer. The smell of death began to fill her nostrils. She could feel it's hot warm breath prickling her ear as it began to whisper in it.

Do you think you're going to live. Have no misconception about it, tonight you will die. Pray to your god he will not answer. He's dead. He no longer exists. My father killed him. And I will kill you. I am Moloch. The devourer of the dead and the reaper of souls.

Its voice was a series of high pitched wheezing. Almost the way the people with the holes in their throats talk using an electrolarynx. She could hear its jaw open and shut at the end of every sentence, sounding much like a crocodile snapping its jaw shut after catching its prey. She could vividly picture the multitudes of sharp jagged teeth serrating the mouth of the monster.

Her eyes began frantically moving to every point in the room. She was looking for hope. A weapon. A cross. A person. Some way to save herself. Anything? Nothing. All she found was an endless amount of despair. Fear that overwhelmed her, but refused to kill her. It was like this despair was wrapping its hands around her throat and squeezing the life out of her. Choking her to the final breath, then releasing. Allowing her enough time to breathe, before it resumed the process over again.

One second. Two seconds. Three… Four… Five… Six… Seven… Eight… Nine… Ten…

10 seconds was all it took. Yet it seemed like the longest 10 seconds Margaret had ever lived. She only had 10 seconds before this monster devoured her body and soul. She was somewhat happy she’d be the one dying first. She only felt remorse and pity, thinly layered over a sense of gratitude towards the boy. He’d have to watch her die first.

She didn't know why she did it. But she looked up to see the boys face, for the comfort of not dying alone. But was abruptly surprised to see he was smiling. No, not that favored expression of a wickedly menacing villain. But a warm smile. A welcoming smile, like he was in a trance. Silently telling her that everything was gonna be okay. But what shocked Margaret more was when he spoke to her.

His face turned from happy to panicking. “Margaret this is only a dream, wake up!” Her heart began pounding furiously. “Margaret you must wake up now! If you don't you'll die or worse bring it into the real world with you.” Then out of nowhere, the eastern bell tower began to ring. Signaling the beginning of breakfast.

Margaret found the situation severely odd. How could the bell tower be signaling breakfast, when it was the dead of night. Now that she began to think of it, how did she get here? She didn't remember leaving her house this morning. She didn't even recall leaving the asylum the prior night. She did remember falling asleep in her office. But she could not for the life of her remember waking up. Something was terribly wrong. How could this be a dream? All of this felt so real. There was no way she could be dreaming. She began conflicting herself within her thoughts. Tearing down and rebuilding reality block by block in her mind.

Then she stopped, thinking, fearing, despairing. If not just for a second and screamed. A scream filled with hatred, exhaustion, and vengeance. “None of this shit is real, now leave me the fuck alone. Ahhhhh!” And as if being commanded by a higher power the creature began to vanish, screaming in terror as it disappeared. “noooooo!”

Slow but surely everything in the room began evaporating in puffs of black smoke. The boy, her torn shoulder, the windows, the floors, the walls, the ceiling. Everything. Bit by bit, until she was floating in a huge black pit of nothingness. She began screaming to her self; Wake up Margaret, Wake up, Wake up. Please oh god, wake up.

“Dr. Penner wake up.”,a voice rang out echoing into the abyss, causing a loud ringing in her ears.

Margaret had recognized that voice, it was Luke, her newest assistant. A warm gentle touch softly caressed her shoulder. And gave it a nice little tug. Margaret closed her eyes and began counting backwards from ten. 10. 9. 8. 7. 6. 5. 4. 3. 2… 1.

When she opened her eyes she was back in her office. Laying down on a pile of papers. “Dr. Penner, are you alright? You were working late again last night. Weren’t you? I've told you a million times that doing that isn’t healthy. You should always go home and get some rest. Especially with this type of job.” He looked at her and cocked a welcoming smile. Letting his magical blue eyes work their charm. “Oh well, I brought you coffee and three new case files. Looks like you got the pick of the litter…” He paused and winked. “... This time.”

Thank god, she was just having a nightmare. It was definitely one hell of a bizarre one. But she dare not dwell on it. For the sake of her sanity, she would forget.

She looked up and found her assistant smiling. She had hired him for this exact reason he seemed to always keep a smile on his face. Which she might add was quite handsome, a little girlish even. Topped with a head full of luscious blond locks. He himself in every possible way was a ray of sunshine, in this abyssal dark pit they called ‘All Hopes’.

So this is the official ending of the first chapter. Next, I'll post the beginning of chapter two, dubbed Part 3 - Emerson... These are not complete chapters, more like a single chapter broken into several parts. All things aside don't be afraid to leave comments, criticisms, or even suggestion; I'm open to constructive criticism good or bad. I'd like to know what you guys think. If you'd like to hear more or if I should just stop while I'm ahead.
Copyright © 2018 The Crimson Phantom; All Rights Reserved.
Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 
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