Once again we have something from the good old tome of stories I’ve done in the last year, and after reading through this again, I just can’t help but be thoroughly excited about the idea I had in my mind. I don’t usually write horror, but I do indulge myself in the topic and I really do enjoy horror. This short story was my own take on the horror genre and albeit short I think had at least some effect to leave a disturbing after taste. Maybe I’ll try writing some more horror shorts, maybe in the near future, hmm. Anyway, here you go, “Silence.”

I stood in the corner of the room, in utter silence. The creature, no, the monster in the room with me was wandering around blind. It couldn’t see where it was going, and it couldn’t see me, which was the important part. The scariest part is that I couldn’t see it either. It was wandering somewhere in this dark, seeking me, yet I couldn’t see it. My eyes weren’t adjusting fast enough, but I knew that if I even thought about moving a single inch of my body, it would have my neck in seconds. It could smell fear, no, it could feel fear. I don’t know how I ended up in this situation, but one way or the other, I was left here, standing, and waiting.

So you may ask, how did this monster even come to me? Well, just the other day, my wife, my little boy, and my nephew came over with a peculiar book. It was old and worn, almost like they found it right out of an abandoned house’s attic. You see, I’m a book appraiser, so they asked me to get it’s worth. I looked through it, it truly was ancient. It’s contents were…strange as well, to say the least. The author was some unknown person, their name wasn’t in English, but surprisingly, the book itself was written in English

I read through some of the pages, but it just seemed like nonsensical rambling. The main topic of the book was this weird creature that was following the main character. It seemed like the story revolved around the main character’s insanity as they are stalked by this creature. I never really did get far before I just got tired of it but I do give it some credit for being interesting. If it was more coherent, it would have made a great seller. It was so strange though, now that I think about it, it was kind of like the book was based on a person’s thoughts. Rather than being written, it was a recording of an actual person.

So, after I gave them back the book, I told them that it was probably worthless. It was most likely a self published book that didn’t gain interest. When I told them this, they seemed disappointed and insisted that I gave it another look. It was strange, they really wanted me to sell that book. So I looked at it again. There was a strange thing about the editor that I noticed, so I checked online. Surprisingly, it was an actual editor that worked on this book, so I told them that I would email him and wait for an answer the next day. When I told them this, they seemed awfully reluctant but ultimately gave in.

Later that night, I heard strange noises downstairs, so I went down to check up on it. I opened the door and then saw that the book had fallen off my desk. I went over to pick it up, and then it all began. Loud screeching, high pitched wails and feet that dragged across the floor like nails. All of these sounds started resounding within the room and I immediately went to hide behind my desk.

Now here we are, standing at the corner of the room, waiting for this monster to leave me. Well, since I do have this book on me, I might as well give it another go. I opened the book slowly, making no noise, and skimmed very slowly. I flipped to a page I never read before and began reading.

Sweat began falling from my head as a I read along in the book. My wife, son, and nephews names were written in the book. They were written with font that covered a quarter of the page, and across each of their names were a large red line. I flipped to the next page, and read a dreading line that sent chills down my spine.

“As I stood in this dark room, waiting for the monster to leave, I remembered that the door was left open, and that the monster could have easily went to my family. As this thought crossed my mind, I began panicking, but if I made a move, and the monster was still here, then I was a goner.”

I swallowed my spit, and flipped the page again.

“I have two options, my life or my family’s life.” The page ended with that simple sentence, and as I flipped through, I found no more filled pages. I quietly and slowly closed the book, and the previous empty cover now had words written on it.

“You don’t have much longer. Choose wisely.”

I looked down at the cover, where more words were written.

“It will take one host. You decide. The clocks ticking.”

Suddenly, a soft creaking resounded within the room. And from a distance, I heard my son’s voice.

“Daddy, is that you?”

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