My Dream Your Nightmare

“Why do you want me?” The crying man asked. “I want you to scream!” I pulled out my knife and started to sharpen it with the grindstone I had to show him what I had in mind. I tightened the rope to avoid him escaping, and added a blindfold. I drag the knife across his cheek. He whimpers in fear as the blood runs down his face, and pure crimson stains my blade. “Is it going to be quick?” The man asked. “But wouldn’t be fun if you died quickly.” A smile slowly appears on my face. “ B-but” (grunting noise.) “ See no that wasn't to bad was it oh wait. . . yes it was!” I erupt in laughter as I plunge the blade into his gut. Tears fall from his face, and my smile just got bigger and bigger as more tears formed from his eyes. “Here comes the fun part!” I pull out a large pair of shears; making sure he could see every part of them clearly. “Ok, put out your hand.”

I pull on his hands and make sure his fingers were still. I close and open them rapidly. “Hear that? That’s the sound of shears when nothing is in between them, try not to get used to it.” Deep and heavy breaths come from his direction. I position the giant garden shears in place (you know exactly where). Crunch! He screams out in pain; just how I like it. “That’s it! But try to cry more, and scream louder. There’s room for improvement because I only cut off the tip of your index finger.” I position it on his thumb this time. Crunch! And just like last time he screams out in pain. “Yes! That’s it! Did you notice how that was louder than last time. I want you to do that every time. Your sister didn’t scream nearly as loud when I did the same thing to her.” “You did this to my sister?”

“I can show you the body if you want.” He then proceeded to vomit on the floor. “Come on! I just cleaned that.” What would horrify him the most? What could I do to make him wish that I would stab him to death slowly, as long as he will die at some point? Wait! I know! I’ll kill his daughter right in front of him. “Sit tight, I have to go get something special. I giggle at the thought of what I was about to do.

 

I go to another room in my “horror house” called the basement and find the little eight year old  girl just sitting there like she was just in time out, and didn’t care. Can’t tell if she is just stupid; which is the most likely reason. Or she thinks she will survive her “encounter”. Anyway, I release her from the chair and quickly tie her hands. “Why are you wearing a mask?” She asks.

“Oh, it’s just a mask from a serial pyro I know.” “But why a firefly?” “Ok, no more time for questions.” I begin to lead her to the other room. “ The man suddenly looked more horrified than any point in our entire session. “Isn’t this your daughter Lilith?” “What are you talking about? That’s definitely not my dad. In fact, he kidnapped me when I was walking from my high school.” Everyone in the room went silent. I then pulled out my knife because I was still going to kill the girl right in front of him. That part has not changed. I positing the knife so it was lined up with her neck. But her restraints had this  shiny grayish metal  slowly covering its entirety. After the rope was completely covered, this little girl just pulled it apart like it was nothing. And before I could react in any way she grabs the knife from my hand and just like the rope, it slowly turned into this weird grayish metal. “Your next. So sit tight while I deal with my kidnaper.” She pushes me down, which knocks all of the air out of me and ties a rope around me still having the same effects as everything else. “What do you mean deal with me?” The man asks. Lilith takes the knife and places it on his jugular. “I’m not really the murderous type, but I think  this is the best course of action. . . Goodbye.”  She let go of the knife and the dead man’s body fell forward, deprived of all life signs. She then turned to me and pulled me off the ground. I feel a light tap on my bare foot and she leaves the room. “I-I can’t feel my legs.” And sure enough; I see that same metal creeping up my legs. I sit there in silence as I wait for my death. A bit later I can feel it up to my neck, but somehow I can still breath. Probably a minute later (I think, I really can’t tell right now) a dark line appears at the bottom of my vision. “I’m sorry for what i’ve done, just please don’t let me die, I have so much more to do.” No reply comes back. I guess I will die alone. My vision was completely gone now. It’s kind of like drowning, first it’s scary until you accept it, then it becomes peaceful and  everything drifts away.