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       #Post#: 992--------------------------------------------------
       Long horror story, BEWARE.
       By: Cuddle Date: October 13, 2012, 9:54 pm
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       Beware of some cussing, this is just the thing that came to my
       mind. I have a very creaky door, and I walked into my room when
       I got this idea. xD
       [font=courier]The Creak of the Door
       You’d be surprised at how certain things trigger these
       subconscious responses from deep inside you. Involuntary cues
       that bubble to the surface whenever that certain thing strikes
       that precise note. For me it was the creak of that damn door.
       It’d drive me insane, and no matter what I did, no matter how
       hard I tried, it would never be silent… And just like that, it
       became a part of my life. Ingrained in my mind, the sound would
       haunt me from the day we first moved in. I haven’t slept
       completely for three years because of it.
       
       Three years ago, give or take a month or so, Karen and I moved
       into our new apartment. The floor plan was simple, a bedroom
       that’s connected to a bathroom, a kitchen, living room, and
       designated washer room. Simple, yet effective… Moving in was one
       of my fondest memories. We ran around the mostly empty space for
       the majority of the first few hours. The hype of being free and
       independent in “our” own space was exhilarating. It was later
       that same night that I first noticed that creaking sound the
       door to the bathroom made when moved ever so slightly.
       
       “God that’s a horrible sound,” I remember remarking, “The hinges
       probably need to be greased.”
       
       “Dearest, you nitpick the strangest things, you won’t even
       notice it in time,” Karen said with a teasing chime.
       
       She always knew how to deal with my quirks.
       
       In time the creaking didn’t subside, nor did my perception of
       it. Whenever the door was opened or closed the sound would
       pierce through my ears and dilute my thoughts. Though Karen was
       wrong about it leaving me, she probably knew that I’d adapt to
       it. The sound never became less annoying, don’t get me wrong, I
       still hate it, but my patience for it grew out of necessity.
       Though even with my increased tolerance the creaking was enough
       to stir me from slumber whenever Karen rose to use the toilet.
       Maybe I’d never fully adjust after all. I can’t tell you how
       many times I’ve sprayed grease into those old hinges on that
       seemingly older door. The owners of this complex must’ve cut
       some serious corners to have recycled doors, but the price for
       rent was cheap enough. You get what you paid for.
       
       Now aside from the creaking of this door everything else was
       perfect, that is until I started to notice the door was taunting
       me. Sometimes Karen would leave the door open, and the air
       conditioning would kick on only to move the door. The door would
       sway slowly and the slight movements were enough to sound the
       alarm… to make that drawn out creeeeeeak in the dead of night.
       That sound would scratch at my brain until I rose from the bed
       and closed the door. Sure enough, like some sick joke, the door
       would seem to open itself by some force of magic. With one long
       creak it would torment me… but how? I closed it. The door must
       not be catching. So, more firmly, I’d close it, and that’d be
       the end of that.
       
       Every time I had to do this dance with the door, and I’ve done
       this frequently, I felt a strong sense of unease well up in my
       chest. It was as though I was five years old again and I was
       peering into a pitch black hallway. The fear felt reminiscent of
       those days, and so I pushed it out of my mind… I’m too old to be
       afraid of the dark still. I’d talk to Karen about these
       occurrences and my unease with the situation and she’d just
       jokingly dismiss it, teasing me.
       
       “Oh hunny, should I start checking the bathroom for monsters and
       oogey boogey?” She’d say with a smile, which faded when she’d
       see my expression wouldn’t change.
       
       She meant well enough, and usually her humor would be returned
       with a quip of my own, but this… this was different. I could not
       shake this feeling. So it was then that we got into the habit of
       securing that door at night, though that never actually worked.
       Every night was the same. I’d never fully sleep because of the
       creak. During the day it posed no threat, outside of annoying
       me.
       
       Life moved on and so did we. It became easier with time, but
       from time to time there would be instances where I would hear
       the creak once more and neither Karen nor I were up to open the
       door. When I would groggily glance up to see if the door somehow
       forced itself ajar I’d see a closed door. Maybe I’m just
       imagining things, or maybe not.
       
       One time, on a restless night, I heard the creak, and without
       sleep to blind me I jolted up to see what I can only describe as
       a slate white face… but it had no discernible features. I reeled
       back hard enough to smack against the headboard of my bed, which
       caused me to choke on the gasp of air I had drawn in. The
       choking noise, or maybe the back of the headboard crashing
       against the wall, or maybe it was just the sudden movement of
       all of this happening at once woke Karen up with a start. When
       she turned to me she saw my face pale and my eyes unsteadily
       staring at the door… which was closed.
       
       I could tell that Karen was concerned, because she started to
       treat me with tender care. It was a little insulting. I wasn’t
       fragile. I know I saw something… or did I just dream it all up?
       I hadn’t slept well since we moved in.
       
       No other incidents occurred after that. The door still creaked.
       Sometimes it’d pry open because it was on a crack. Nothing like
       that night though…
       
       By the third year Karen went to a conference for something or
       another in England, and I was alone in the apartment for a
       month. All went by smoothly, perhaps because I expected the
       worst. With work and games to keep me busy the first three days
       sailed by like a gem. I hardly noticed the creaks, though they
       did wake me. Then there it was, without fail, a long, drawn out,
       high-pitched creak.
       
       I had been playing games all night. It probably was a bad idea
       to delve into the horror genre when I’m all alone and paranoid,
       but it was the newest “Quiet Rise” game, and it was scary as
       hell. Just as I laid my head to rest it sounded. Like the
       devil’s very own grinding teeth it tormented me with its wicked
       shriek. CREEEEEEEAK. It let out a second shrill note as though
       daring me to glance up. Click. The door closed.
       
       “Wha-What the fuck was that…?” I managed to utter softly.
       
       “A-Am I just dreaming things up again…?” I remember thinking, or
       rather praying. My chest ached as I drew rapid breaths from
       under my blanket. I could feel every single strand of hair on my
       neck and arms prick up at once. I felt an overwhelming, yet
       cold, pressure bear down my throat and crush my chest. I wanted
       to believe it was nothing more than my overactive imagination
       jumping into extremes in the dead of night, because I stayed up
       a little too long. So I didn’t dare move. I was safe in my
       blanket, this I’d like to believe. Eventually sleep caught me,
       though it was fitful, and before I knew it the light of the
       morning breached my eyes. I lived to see another day. No more
       horror games though.
       
       I didn’t tell Karen about what happened, I didn’t want her to
       worry. I just ignored it. The next night nothing happened. So my
       mind must’ve played a foul trick on me… right?
       
       The night after, I managed to get to sleep quickly. I was
       exhausted after work and the day went well. Sleep was going to
       be rewarding, I could feel it taking me already. A few hours
       into that unfulfilling rest I felt something tug at the back of
       my mind. It felt sharp, like a little clawed hand was pinching
       the softest part of my subconscious and pulling firmly. It was
       uncomfortable. The feeling was enough to break my already frail
       slumber and make me painfully aware of my environment all at
       once. Creeeeeeeeak. Reluctantly I opened my eyes and dazedly
       lifted my gaze to the door. The door was wide open. Wide fucking
       open… but nothing was there. At first my sleep deprived mind
       made me call out, “Karen?” but the inquisition was fruitless. It
       dawned on me she had been gone for nearly a week. I felt like I
       wanted to cry out, curse whatever cruel person installed this
       demonic door. Instead I just rolled over. I didn’t have the
       energy to fight it.
       
       The next day I studied the door thoroughly. Nothing made sense.
       There should be no reason for it to open every night. I looked
       around the bathroom area and tried to find some source that
       could be causing this. Maybe someone was playing a prank on me.
       Maybe Karen had been up to something the whole time. I couldn’t
       find a thing.
       
       The days went on after that and days turned into weeks. Three
       weeks in and still I couldn’t sleep peacefully. My mind grew
       frenzied. I was reaching the tipping point. What was going on?
       In time this question, and lack of an answer, consumed me. It
       got to the point where the fear was overridden by madness. I
       hated that door. I hated that creaking. I needed to end it. I
       went out and bought two cameras that day, if I couldn’t see
       anything, maybe they could. I set up one camera just above the
       headboard so that it would face the door. The other was on a
       desk parallel to the bed against the wall. I placed a camera
       there to watch me.
       
       That night I slept. It was a miracle. I didn’t wake, but I
       didn’t feel rested. I felt empty, but at least I didn’t hear the
       creaking. Ironic that this would happen when I set out for the
       truth. It would have almost driven me insane if it wasn’t so
       funny. Now wasn’t the time to dwell on this though, I had to
       view the tapes. First I removed the memory card from the camera
       affixed to my headboard and uploaded the video onto my computer.
       The first few hours were tame, and I felt my skin flush. Had I
       been acting nuts this whole time for nothing? Was the lack of
       sleep the cause all along? Maybe all I needed was a good night’s
       rest. I fast forwarded the video. Nothing for the next couple of
       hours… then there was movement. I hit pause, backed up, and
       played it a few minutes before the movement began.
       
       My skin felt like an army of ants with needles for feet marched
       across my entire body. The door opened with that earsplitting
       creak. At first I wondered why I hadn’t woken up. Every other
       time the sound of the door was enough to take me from sleep.
       These thoughts were washed from me instantly as I saw it. The
       door had not opened on its own.
       
       A black… entity, formless and slightly translucent held onto the
       doorknob with what I can only imagine to be a hand. It was… a
       shadow. No. That’s not right… but that’s the only word to
       describe it. It was like a shapeless silhouette, humanlike in
       make, but with no definition whatsoever. Its “body” melded into
       one long mass as it reached from the floor to the ceiling. It
       had no legs or feet. As it moved it glided slowly across the
       floor. The top of it extended and narrowed slightly, forming a
       round top, which leaned forward and away from the rest of it.
       Periodically something would bubble at the end of what I would
       call its “head”. It looked like melting flesh when it happened,
       just black and almost see through. This melting motion seemed to
       create a face in great torment.
       
       If I focused on it hard enough the face would seemingly stared
       pleadingly in despair straight past the camera and into my eyes
       as it continued to melt. At that moment my ears began to ring. I
       thought my ears would burst. I tried not to look at those faces
       after that.
       
       It moved toward my bed… Why didn’t I wake? The shadowed thing
       finally took a spot by my bed. It hovered over me as its “arms”
       sank into its body. There it stood idle. I felt my stomach churn
       violently. I retched, nearly falling over as I fought back the
       heaves and continued watching the video. The only movement was
       from the continual emerging and melting of that tormented face.
       Its eyes never left me through this cycle though, and that
       unsettled me most of all.
       
       More appeared through the opened doorway now. One after the
       other and with each one that passed through the door cried out
       with another howling creak. I never budged. I never moved. I was
       completely oblivious. They all had continually melting faces
       which all bore a different face of agony, pain, anguish… all of
       them were different, and yet they all inspired the same feeling
       of dread deep inside of me. Each one would take a place standing
       next to the one before it until they circled my bed completely.
       
       They stared… never moving for two whole hours.
       
       Just as I thought I could stomach no more I saw something
       emerging from the back. The translucent blackness that made up
       these things covered the figure that was appearing like a veil,
       but I could still see it moving. It moved through the doorway at
       a snail’s pace. I could clearly see long… limbs? It was slate
       white, devoid of color. The arms that emerged from the darkness
       of the doorway were wiry and very… very long. The muscles pulled
       at the visible bone from under the skin as it moved. It began to
       pull itself through the doorway more and more.
       
       Then its face made its way through the dark. My eyes blistered
       as tears immediately swelled past the surface and began to fall
       freely. My breath was ragged and spiteful as each attempt to
       breathe set my throat aflame. That face… it was the same face I
       saw so long ago. That featureless face moved closer and closer.
       Everything about it was elongated. It moved like a sloth, slowly
       reaching out with a hand and digging its gnarled claws into a
       grip to pull itself along. When it made it to the shadowed
       things they let out the most gut wrenching wails. With an
       indolent swipe it dragged one of its long arms through each and
       every one of the black entities. Their wails grew so loud that
       my ears burned. I felt sorry for them for some reason.
       
       As they all screamed at their demise they faded into wisps in
       the dark, disappearing from sight. The white one continued to
       claw and creep over me. Its claws dug into my headboard and its
       legs lifted it over me from the end of my bed. I could hear its
       bones crackling with every move it made… That’s how close it
       came to me and the camera. Its neck extended further, growing as
       its vacant face met mine only inches away. The face began to
       crack and tear, opening up to reveal a “mouth” as blood seeped
       from the newly torn rip. A guttural growl gurgled through the
       blood that pooled in its “mouth”. It lifted its head to the
       camera and cocked it to the side before letting out a terrifying
       screech.
       
       The camera was overwhelmed with static and the image began to
       corrupt and break as the screech drew out. It lasted maybe ten
       seconds before the video cut to black. Minutes passed and it
       remained black. Then the video flashed back to show a mostly
       empty room, save for me sleeping soundly.
       
       For the longest time I sat there. Was I going crazy? Was this
       just a dream? Was it a hallucination from sleep deprivation?
       Maybe, but when I started the next video it was the same thing.
       I didn’t watch the second video… I couldn’t. I sat there for a
       while before I actually focused enough on my hands. There was
       blood, and not just on my hands, it was all over me. I got up
       and dashed for the bathroom slamming the door behind me. The
       mirror showed blood steadily streaming from my eyes, ears, nose
       and mouth… I glanced down at my shirt through the mirror, which
       was drenched in blood. I lifted it. A “bite mark” bled freely
       from my side. It bit me and I never stirred. I didn’t even feel
       it until now. My body was shaking uncontrollably. What the
       hell…. What the hell… What the hell...
       
       Creeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeak. I could have sworn I closed the door
       behind me…[/font]
       #Post#: 993--------------------------------------------------
       Re: Long horror story, BEWARE.
       By: Noctis Date: October 14, 2012, 3:13 am
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       [center]That's a really awesome story!
       I like how it's written in first person POV. It also has an
       interesting plot and monsters :D
       Nice job, I really enjoyed it[/center]
       #Post#: 1000--------------------------------------------------
       Re: Long horror story, BEWARE.
       By: Cuddle Date: October 14, 2012, 10:29 pm
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       Aww, thanks. :3
       #Post#: 1170--------------------------------------------------
       Re: Long horror story, BEWARE.
       By: KONGOZERO Date: November 22, 2012, 9:40 pm
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       make more horror stories that was awesome! srry i was late i was
       on this its a very long story but i believe that you made me
       astounded. I'm a young novelist still in class but this is the
       best i'v seen. ;)[font=times new roman][/font]
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