ChristChild
12-07-2007, 09:56 PM
Author's note: This was a suspense short story I wrote for a writer's group. I've been told it has a "Twilight Zone" feel to it.
Johnny Brock
Johnny Brock awoke. He grasped at the vague tendrils of his nightmare, but they slipped through the fingers of his mind like smoke in the wind.
"I know it was them again," he thought. "I glimpse them in the day and dream of them at night."
The young man tossed off his covers in irritation. He arose and went to the bathroom. He looked in the mirror and saw his face, but when he looked down, he caught a glimpse of something strange. He glanced back up quickly, yet the image was gone.
"I know you're there!" he screamed--his irritation blossoming into fearful aggravation.
Johnny made it another hour without seeing anything strange. He was now making his way down to the nearby lake to go fishing. He would harvest vegetables from his garden later in the evening. He lived alone, far from civilization. He had learned to live as people did in the days before electricity. He'd lived like this for so many years, he'd lost count.
"Maybe I should visit the city," Johnny thought, but soon discarded the idea. He had tried walking into town on three occasions he could remember. It was during those times that they haunted him most.
"Hmm... maybe they fear the city. Maybe if I could get there, they would finally go away," Johnny reasoned.
Johnny was soon at the lake, fishing. It didn't take him long to start catching fish. His location was so remote that Johnny had never seen anyone else fishing there.
The isolated man came to a lull in his catching of fish and stared at his reflection in the water's surface. Suddenly one of them was standing behind him in the reflection! His heart leaped into his throat and he spun quickly, brandishing his fishing pole like a sword!
"Nothing!" Johnny screamed, as nothing was behind him. A butterfly lazily flew through the spot where the creature should be standing with its arms raised toward him.
Sometimes Johnny wondered if he was going insane. It wasn't long after he arrived at his home deep in the forest, he began glimpsing the creatures, yet always like a shadow or some half-seen fantasy. He had wondered if they were just his imagination, or were these things the ghosts of some ancient creature from a bygone time of ice and snow. He thought this due to their appearance. The creatures, from what he could glimpse of them, were mostly white.
"Yeah, like a ghost," he thought, causing a shiver to run down his spine.
If all he’d ever done was just glimpse them, he wouldn't be so nervous. The thing was, sometimes they hurt him, and he wasn't sure how, or how to make them stop when they did. He just had to suffer through it until it was over. They usually hurt him in his sleep though, but he couldn't seem to wake up until after they were gone.
Thinking back, he could make out their outline in his mind—they were mostly white with a darker head. They had odd legs in that the legs seemed to not separate at the thighs very well—only below the knees, yet the thighs had full movement. It was as though their white, thigh skin stretched as they moved. Their hands were darker too, and they always seemed to be reaching for him. They usually grasped his arms and caused a piercing pain when they hurt him.
“What do they want?!” Johnny screamed in frustration. He then shouted to the empty air, “Just leave me alone!”
***
Dr. Mark Parmenter approached the side of the bed. He looked down upon his patient, as he asked his nurse, Jenna DiAngelo, “How long has it been?”
“Sixteen months,” the woman responded, as she reached for Johnny Brock’s arm to give him a shot. She then added, “We don’t know if he’ll ever come out of the coma, but he does seem to respond slightly when he receives his periodic injections. Look--see there!”
Dr. Parmenter watched as Johnny's eyelids fluttered open a bit, despite the fact he was in a coma. He thought there may be some hope for the young man yet. If only they could somehow reach him in his own, private world and bring him back to reality.
Copyright(c)2007 D. Shane Burton
Johnny Brock
Johnny Brock awoke. He grasped at the vague tendrils of his nightmare, but they slipped through the fingers of his mind like smoke in the wind.
"I know it was them again," he thought. "I glimpse them in the day and dream of them at night."
The young man tossed off his covers in irritation. He arose and went to the bathroom. He looked in the mirror and saw his face, but when he looked down, he caught a glimpse of something strange. He glanced back up quickly, yet the image was gone.
"I know you're there!" he screamed--his irritation blossoming into fearful aggravation.
Johnny made it another hour without seeing anything strange. He was now making his way down to the nearby lake to go fishing. He would harvest vegetables from his garden later in the evening. He lived alone, far from civilization. He had learned to live as people did in the days before electricity. He'd lived like this for so many years, he'd lost count.
"Maybe I should visit the city," Johnny thought, but soon discarded the idea. He had tried walking into town on three occasions he could remember. It was during those times that they haunted him most.
"Hmm... maybe they fear the city. Maybe if I could get there, they would finally go away," Johnny reasoned.
Johnny was soon at the lake, fishing. It didn't take him long to start catching fish. His location was so remote that Johnny had never seen anyone else fishing there.
The isolated man came to a lull in his catching of fish and stared at his reflection in the water's surface. Suddenly one of them was standing behind him in the reflection! His heart leaped into his throat and he spun quickly, brandishing his fishing pole like a sword!
"Nothing!" Johnny screamed, as nothing was behind him. A butterfly lazily flew through the spot where the creature should be standing with its arms raised toward him.
Sometimes Johnny wondered if he was going insane. It wasn't long after he arrived at his home deep in the forest, he began glimpsing the creatures, yet always like a shadow or some half-seen fantasy. He had wondered if they were just his imagination, or were these things the ghosts of some ancient creature from a bygone time of ice and snow. He thought this due to their appearance. The creatures, from what he could glimpse of them, were mostly white.
"Yeah, like a ghost," he thought, causing a shiver to run down his spine.
If all he’d ever done was just glimpse them, he wouldn't be so nervous. The thing was, sometimes they hurt him, and he wasn't sure how, or how to make them stop when they did. He just had to suffer through it until it was over. They usually hurt him in his sleep though, but he couldn't seem to wake up until after they were gone.
Thinking back, he could make out their outline in his mind—they were mostly white with a darker head. They had odd legs in that the legs seemed to not separate at the thighs very well—only below the knees, yet the thighs had full movement. It was as though their white, thigh skin stretched as they moved. Their hands were darker too, and they always seemed to be reaching for him. They usually grasped his arms and caused a piercing pain when they hurt him.
“What do they want?!” Johnny screamed in frustration. He then shouted to the empty air, “Just leave me alone!”
***
Dr. Mark Parmenter approached the side of the bed. He looked down upon his patient, as he asked his nurse, Jenna DiAngelo, “How long has it been?”
“Sixteen months,” the woman responded, as she reached for Johnny Brock’s arm to give him a shot. She then added, “We don’t know if he’ll ever come out of the coma, but he does seem to respond slightly when he receives his periodic injections. Look--see there!”
Dr. Parmenter watched as Johnny's eyelids fluttered open a bit, despite the fact he was in a coma. He thought there may be some hope for the young man yet. If only they could somehow reach him in his own, private world and bring him back to reality.
Copyright(c)2007 D. Shane Burton