I have decided to take a break from my current writing projects to do a steam-of-conscious exercise. I think I may have a new thriller/horror idea...
This is an unedited free-writing piece. It was just meant to bring in some fresh ideas. This is my outcome, and my current work in progress.
“UNSAFE.”
I whimpered helplessly, like a scared hound and retreated to the opposite wall as it released its grip. I saw the figure before me. It was wearing the same gown as I was, though it was blackened and bloodstained. As the figure approached, the features became alive.
It was a man. He wore a mask over his face, concealing his true identity. I looked through the mask to the eyes, noting a familiar ring around the pupils.
I realized this was no ordinary man. This was my Father.
I felt faint, and almost collapsed right in front of him. The person, who ultimately was my father deep down inside, was attacking me. Savagely, the tentacle’s grip intensified, absorbing every last bit of energy it could muster. What I was looking at now was no longer somebody I knew in my dreams. All I could see was a savage stranger, who did not recognize me, or his surroundings. He snarled threateningly and advanced on me quickly. I dodged him as he tried to grab me, and escaped through the hole.
Then, my surroundings changed. I found myself in a long corridor, like something I had remembered out of a dream. I looked down, and saw flickering lights showing a dim path through the debris of other collapsed walls.
“Help,” I croaked. “Is anyone out there?” I ran, narrowly avoiding the stone and pipes scattered across the ground. I could hear the footsteps and groans of my father behind me so, aided with the surge of adrenaline, I ran faster than I ever had before in order to escape this dangerous meeting with the stranger whom I had not seen for years.
I ran as fast as I could, trying to get away from this... Monster. My head was reeling, more than usual. He was losing distance between him and I, and I could feel like this race would be over soon. I lost my footing and tripped, falling toward the cold surface below. It felt like I was falling forever, drifting in the open air. The air was rich with openness, freedom and carelessness. I yearned for the chance to be free. Free from my father, free from this hallway, and free from this apocalyptic world.
I struggled as much as I could in his grasp. He was strong, and fighting against his will was draining. The last bit of energy was seeping through my body. I was marked safe, and therefore, I demand freedom.
The next thing I remembered was waking up in a white room.
This is an unedited free-writing piece. It was just meant to bring in some fresh ideas. This is my outcome, and my current work in progress.
Darkness has no weight, and its smile is as empty
as the air.
Watching it taunt me, prancing,
I figured it had a purpose.
If I left it long enough it would go away:
But the moon dripped with a sinister side;
A face – that was mine – determined,
Lips that curdled into a snarl,
A prance, stomping.
Darkness became my prison;
Trapped inside, buried and burned,
I prayed for the call of twilight,
For the soft glow that awaited,
For the new beginnings of the shadows.
Behind these walls, the city was alive;
I took no part, but gazed out as a stranger would gaze upon a new world.
Who would confine me from my fate?
No one, but me;
My only hope, light.
Sleep occurred; but my dreams were shattered, empty.
The city’s call, commanding.
The moments eerie,
The time, dead.
Then, I woke up.
I first remembered a white room, soundless and bright. A faint smell of disinfectant lingered in the air. I looked around from my bed; there were no visible doors or windows, and no sign of any life or movement. Not even a speck on the ground. The room acted as a cell. With four strong walls surrounding me, I was safe. Safe. I am safe from what? Myself? Am I trapped? Was I going to die here? They were all real questions, for a real situation.
I stood to examine myself. I noticed I was robed in a white hospital gown, and the only colour present was the blue wristband on my right wrist, with the very small letters that read, “SAFE.” I let out a sigh of relief. In the midst of the chaos, I could rely on one thing - my health. At least, I hoped that is what the label meant.
I looked around at the blank canvas that I called my sanctuary, desperately searching for a door, a window, a hole - anything. All I could see were the plain white walls, with a white bed against the one wall, and nothing else. Suddenly, a low grumbling echoed through the room, and at first I thought it was all in my head. The grumble became steady, occurring more often than before. The echoes pierced my ears like daggers, causing my head to throb.
"Hello?'' I shouted, as my muscles became tense with anticipation of a response. I stood in total silence, waiting for the inevitable reply. There was nothing, only the whispers in my head to keep me company. I sat on the edge of the bed, waiting – my curiosity rising. I did not know what I was waiting for, but I just waited.
Getting the best of me, curiosity drew me toward the wall. It was just a simple wall. Whitewashed, similar to that of my life. My eyes flicked towards the wall near my bed, spotting a small crack in the stone. I slid closer towards the crack, but with each step I was taking, it grew larger and larger, transforming into a hole. I bent down towards the hole, watching the foundations crumble before my eyes. It was dark, a definite contrast to the bright white room behind me.
The dark tunnel could be an escape, or at least have answers to what had happened. If I had stayed, what would have been the results? I would still be alone, without supplies to last me, without company to hold my sanity. I had to move. It was time.
Whilst in deep thought, a grey-scaled tentacle slid through the hole, and engulfed my view. It slithered to the other side - my side. Wrapping around my wrist, it twisted my arm to shake me back into focus. The appendage dragged me through the opening in the wall, into the abyss that was it’s home.
Convulsing, I lost control. The tentacle slid around my cold skin, burning the layer from underneath it. The pain seared over my pale flesh, and the echoes of my screams filled the dark tunnel. The bells of hope that once rang, were now hanging silent in the air.
The grumble transitioned into a roar, pulsing like a healthy heart. I knew the source of the noise. It was my captor. He held me tightly, and I could not pull away. What was left of the wall started to tremble, the roar shaking it to pieces.
Finally, the wall collapsed, allowing the clouds of dust to fill the air. It shrouded my view, and I had to wait until it settled so I could see who or what was behind the wall. Terror struck me. The streams of panic, quick like the Thames. At first glance, a human silhouette appeared, but after the dust fully cleared I saw that it was no ordinary being.
There were large pieces of decayed flesh dangling from the fragile skeleton before me. The skull was partially visible through the left side of the face, but my eyes only remained there for a moment. I caught sight of an orange band of tarnished metal that cut into the flesh of its wrist, a band engraved with one word:
Watching it taunt me, prancing,
I figured it had a purpose.
If I left it long enough it would go away:
But the moon dripped with a sinister side;
A face – that was mine – determined,
Lips that curdled into a snarl,
A prance, stomping.
Darkness became my prison;
Trapped inside, buried and burned,
I prayed for the call of twilight,
For the soft glow that awaited,
For the new beginnings of the shadows.
Behind these walls, the city was alive;
I took no part, but gazed out as a stranger would gaze upon a new world.
Who would confine me from my fate?
No one, but me;
My only hope, light.
Sleep occurred; but my dreams were shattered, empty.
The city’s call, commanding.
The moments eerie,
The time, dead.
Then, I woke up.
I first remembered a white room, soundless and bright. A faint smell of disinfectant lingered in the air. I looked around from my bed; there were no visible doors or windows, and no sign of any life or movement. Not even a speck on the ground. The room acted as a cell. With four strong walls surrounding me, I was safe. Safe. I am safe from what? Myself? Am I trapped? Was I going to die here? They were all real questions, for a real situation.
I stood to examine myself. I noticed I was robed in a white hospital gown, and the only colour present was the blue wristband on my right wrist, with the very small letters that read, “SAFE.” I let out a sigh of relief. In the midst of the chaos, I could rely on one thing - my health. At least, I hoped that is what the label meant.
I looked around at the blank canvas that I called my sanctuary, desperately searching for a door, a window, a hole - anything. All I could see were the plain white walls, with a white bed against the one wall, and nothing else. Suddenly, a low grumbling echoed through the room, and at first I thought it was all in my head. The grumble became steady, occurring more often than before. The echoes pierced my ears like daggers, causing my head to throb.
"Hello?'' I shouted, as my muscles became tense with anticipation of a response. I stood in total silence, waiting for the inevitable reply. There was nothing, only the whispers in my head to keep me company. I sat on the edge of the bed, waiting – my curiosity rising. I did not know what I was waiting for, but I just waited.
Getting the best of me, curiosity drew me toward the wall. It was just a simple wall. Whitewashed, similar to that of my life. My eyes flicked towards the wall near my bed, spotting a small crack in the stone. I slid closer towards the crack, but with each step I was taking, it grew larger and larger, transforming into a hole. I bent down towards the hole, watching the foundations crumble before my eyes. It was dark, a definite contrast to the bright white room behind me.
The dark tunnel could be an escape, or at least have answers to what had happened. If I had stayed, what would have been the results? I would still be alone, without supplies to last me, without company to hold my sanity. I had to move. It was time.
Whilst in deep thought, a grey-scaled tentacle slid through the hole, and engulfed my view. It slithered to the other side - my side. Wrapping around my wrist, it twisted my arm to shake me back into focus. The appendage dragged me through the opening in the wall, into the abyss that was it’s home.
Convulsing, I lost control. The tentacle slid around my cold skin, burning the layer from underneath it. The pain seared over my pale flesh, and the echoes of my screams filled the dark tunnel. The bells of hope that once rang, were now hanging silent in the air.
The grumble transitioned into a roar, pulsing like a healthy heart. I knew the source of the noise. It was my captor. He held me tightly, and I could not pull away. What was left of the wall started to tremble, the roar shaking it to pieces.
Finally, the wall collapsed, allowing the clouds of dust to fill the air. It shrouded my view, and I had to wait until it settled so I could see who or what was behind the wall. Terror struck me. The streams of panic, quick like the Thames. At first glance, a human silhouette appeared, but after the dust fully cleared I saw that it was no ordinary being.
There were large pieces of decayed flesh dangling from the fragile skeleton before me. The skull was partially visible through the left side of the face, but my eyes only remained there for a moment. I caught sight of an orange band of tarnished metal that cut into the flesh of its wrist, a band engraved with one word:
“UNSAFE.”
I whimpered helplessly, like a scared hound and retreated to the opposite wall as it released its grip. I saw the figure before me. It was wearing the same gown as I was, though it was blackened and bloodstained. As the figure approached, the features became alive.
It was a man. He wore a mask over his face, concealing his true identity. I looked through the mask to the eyes, noting a familiar ring around the pupils.
I realized this was no ordinary man. This was my Father.
I felt faint, and almost collapsed right in front of him. The person, who ultimately was my father deep down inside, was attacking me. Savagely, the tentacle’s grip intensified, absorbing every last bit of energy it could muster. What I was looking at now was no longer somebody I knew in my dreams. All I could see was a savage stranger, who did not recognize me, or his surroundings. He snarled threateningly and advanced on me quickly. I dodged him as he tried to grab me, and escaped through the hole.
Then, my surroundings changed. I found myself in a long corridor, like something I had remembered out of a dream. I looked down, and saw flickering lights showing a dim path through the debris of other collapsed walls.
“Help,” I croaked. “Is anyone out there?” I ran, narrowly avoiding the stone and pipes scattered across the ground. I could hear the footsteps and groans of my father behind me so, aided with the surge of adrenaline, I ran faster than I ever had before in order to escape this dangerous meeting with the stranger whom I had not seen for years.
I ran as fast as I could, trying to get away from this... Monster. My head was reeling, more than usual. He was losing distance between him and I, and I could feel like this race would be over soon. I lost my footing and tripped, falling toward the cold surface below. It felt like I was falling forever, drifting in the open air. The air was rich with openness, freedom and carelessness. I yearned for the chance to be free. Free from my father, free from this hallway, and free from this apocalyptic world.
I struggled as much as I could in his grasp. He was strong, and fighting against his will was draining. The last bit of energy was seeping through my body. I was marked safe, and therefore, I demand freedom.
The next thing I remembered was waking up in a white room.
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