He made it real

Suspense Stories | Feb 19, 2012 | 2 min read
96 Votes, average: 4 out of 5
Suspense Stories

He made it real

Seeing it made it real. Saying it made it real. Thinking it made it real.He made it real.  He made what destroyed so many lifes.He was proud of making something so powerful that it could strike fear into the bottom of someone's soul,Days, weeks, months had passed though, before he made it real,before it did what it did.The thick oak door closed behind him, leaving a dim glow in the room,he looked apon the walls, at his treasure, of what he has succeded at, they lined every wall,to most they would have been morbid, but to him they were perfect,He ran his hand along his treasures, then turned the light off and stumbled to him torn, grey, dull, bed,Blood dripped down a blunt, shining knife, hitting the floor with a dull thud,screams rang out, out of time foot steps sounded through the long hall, trapping all hope of escape,He listened, she was trapped, he heard her, the knife swung, in one swift movement her head rolled to the ground,and the rest of her body thudded down next to it.

He reached down, and grabbed the hair of the severed head, bringing the knife to cut  the hair, He heard sirens, He flinched, and stabbed his hand, blood squirted out everywhere,he yelled, and fell to the ground, he dropped the knife, it ricocheyed and hit him straight through the eye, he had no time to yell, he was already dead. Blood dripped down the knife. Finally, all his victims felt freed,all one hundred and fifty seven, their souls were freed. He could do no more harm. The monster he had created within himself had died. The monster was gone. And so was pain. He suddenly woke up from his dream, relieved that it hadn't really happened. He walked to the bathroom and washed his face,he started thinking about what had happened, and if he could ever be that kind of person, thinking it made it real.He looked at himself in the mirror, he said "Could I be that? I could." Saying it made it real.He snapped out of his morbid thoughts and walked into the kitchen, he started cutting up some roast chicken with his mother's butchers knife, she was ill, so she couldn't cook properly, he cut his finger, fascinated my the blood.

He saw the monster he had become. Seeing it made it real. He held the knife tighter. He made it real.He heard the screams of the t.v. from down the hall, out of time foot steps sounded trough the long hall trapping all hope of escape, He listened, she was trapped, he heard her, the knife swung, in one swift movement her head rolled to the ground, and the rest of her body thudded down next to it.Seeing it made it real. Saying it made it real. Thinking it made it real.He made it real.

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Geeta Feb 22, 2012

Good one..

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