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The Beast of the Mind

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Hello to all who have the ears to listen, or the eyes with which to read the story I am about to tell. Alack! and harken, for unlike many of the tales and yarns of new and yore which you may be accustomed to reading, this is no work of imaginary fiction, but a true horror that I experienced at the young and tender age of six. This, nightmare, as you may call it, has haunted me for all of my days, and now it may just haunt you after you have taken the time to think on it. Prepare yourself, for now I begin.

It was many years ago when I experienced a horror that I will never forget. As with any young child, I had bad dreams every so often but nothing that a little crying and a hug from me mum couldn’t fix; or at least I thought as much until a dark night a few days after the birth of my younger brother. That night, there was nothing to abnormal about it besides maybe the lack of the neighborhood owls hooting. I had finished my nightly routine of sitting with my father and watching the History channel as he smoked his Malboro cigarettes until it had struck seven post meridian and I had to go to bed.Climbing into bed, my mother kissed me good night and I was quickly asleep. This is when it started.

I suddenly awoke for no reason at all. I was immediately aware of the fact that I was drenched in a cold sweat and that I was gripped with fear and despair of the most absolute and disturbing kind. I knew not what it was that scared me, but I did know that I HAD to hide AT ALL COSTS!

Throwing myself from the bed, I dashed into my closet and quickly slid the doors shut. As I did this, the light in my room turned on. I thought it may have been my mum or da coming to check on me, for I had not been very quiet in my scramble to the closet.

Peeking out from a crack in the closet door, I tried to see who was in my room, but no one was visible. At this, I was suddenly filled with dread and shrunk further to the back of my small enclosure. Just as I did this, the room was suddenly drowned in an indescribably putrid odor. This was followed by a mighty ‘thud’ and lots of heavy, snarly breathing like one would imagine that a great carnivorous beast would have. As much as I wished to deny my instincts, I as well was aware of an evil presence in my room.

Waiting for what seemed like hours, but was no more than a few seconds, the THING left and I inched my way back out into the open. Looking around, my room was undisturbed save for the light switch being turned on and the fan now being off.
I was by now bereft of any ability to think clearly and sought only to find the comforting arms of my parents. As I opened the door to my room, I gazed down the hallway that it opened up to. As much as it seemed to be the hall that was supposed to be there, something was foreign about it. All the doors, even the sliding doors to the kitchen, which note you should’ve been jammed open, were closed. All the doors save for the guest bath. I fearfully reached to my immediate right for that is where the knob for my parents bedroom door should have been. I reached only to grasp thin air, for while there was most certainly a door, it was absent of a means with which to open it.

I began to quietly whimper as I thought that I had been left alone, when I again was suddenly overcome with dread and was again aware of and evil presence, but this time it was behind me. Not daring to look back, I screamed and ran as fast as my little legs would carry me, ran straight into the bathroom and slammed the door shut. Panicking, I turned to look myself in the mirror only to find that there was no reflection. This scared me more than the THING that was in my home, but it also made me curious.

I reached out and touched the mirror. Suddenly, I was surrounded with a darkness so thick that it was tangible. I found myself staring, as if through a window, into the bathroom, where another me stood with a confused look on his face. I was about to cry out from shock, when the bathroom door was suddenly smashed down and an enormous, demonic beast entered. That beast, that THING, it crushed the other me beneath it’s gigantic foot with ease and no hesitation. It then turned to where the mirror was supposed to be, where I was looking out from, and I knew that it could see me, and I knew that it was coming for me.

In a mad fit to escape, I began to flail madly about until my hands came upon a door handle in the darkness. Quickly opening the door, I stumbled out into a roo full of people. The room, while unbelievably bright, had no source of light, artificial or natural. And the people, they were all the same! While no two were the same age, ranging from ages four to fifteen, they all had blonde hair, blue eyes, and looked almost identical to myself. (not until years later did I realize that each of these people was an incarnation of me at a different age, and each was accurate to a point.)

These people, they all stared at me with contempt, all but the eldest who was fifteen. Not but a few moments after I had arrived and been given this harsh but wordless greeting, a mighty and hideous roar rang out as if from everywhere at once. This roar was emitted with such sudden ferocity that it seemed to startle this group of people beyond reason, for once it had ended, they all turned and ran out of the room through various doors. They all ran, except for the eldest and I, for I had curled up in a corner of the room out of fear. The eldest of the people, who had been unphased by this mighty noise, walked to me and lifted me to my feet. He looked into my eyes and said to me, “You know not why you are here, but you know that you are in danger. We are being hunted, all of us, to the death. They hunt us as wolves, and we are the helpless sheep. They made a mistake in bringing me here for their sick game, for I am no mere sheep, but am the mighty ram whom descended from the high mountains! Fret not young lad, for I will defend you. We are equally important to each other. In the future, I will remember you and you will remember me, and we mustn’t forget or we shall suffer our demise.”

This was all he said, and not again did he speak even a single word. He walked to the door through which I had entered. Upon opening it, he reached inside and drew forth many weapons. He kept most for himself, but gave me a few smaller ones to me. We set out together to escape the labyrinth which we had been trapped in. As we wandered the seemingly endless halls, we occasionally heard screams of pain quickly followed with hideous and bellowing laughter ring through them.

By now it had been some time since the last deathly scream, so I assumed that I and the eldest of the people which I had seen were the only two that were not dead. More and more time passed and the more I feared that the demons that were hunting us were closing in. Then, we rounded a corner and came face to face with a monster more hideous than Satan himself. The beast released a hideous roar and lunged forward, towards me. On the wall next to me there was a dumbwaiter and the eldest of the people that I had seen shoved me inside and frantically began to lower me. The sound of gunfire could be heard above.

The next thing I knew, I was outside the labyrinth, running away as fast as I could. To this day, no matter how hard I try, I can never remember what happened between the dumbwaiter and my escape. I can only assume that it was something of a horror beyond that which any human should be able to experience.

Suddenly, I awoke from my terror to find myself lying on the floor of my room with my mum and da staring down at me. I asked them what was going on, and they told me that a few minutes after I’d fallen asleep that they heard a loud racket from within my room. Upon entering, they found me running about in a mad, unconscious rage. They had then pinned me to the floor and that is when I woke up.

To this very day, the terror that I experienced in that dream still haunts me, and in more ways than one. You see, this was only the beginning of a series of dreams that would terrorize me for the next five years. Regardless of how odd these dreams may have been, they all did have one thing in common. In one way or another, each, save for the first, prophesied an event of my life. The dreams eventually stopped, and so did the fear of finding out the meaning of each prophesy, but I am still left with their scars.

Right about now you’re probably saying, “That wasn’t all too scary. I thought that this was a horror story!” Well, let me tell you something. Each of those dreams foretold something in my life, but I didn’t know what until it happened, until it was too late. I ask you now, what are dreams? Are they merely a dellusion, created by human paranoia and are obsession to scare ourselves? Or are they something deeper, darker, more evil, vile, and sinister than you can imagine? Are they trying to warn you of the future? Or torment you with unforgettable pain? Or, and this is the truly scarry idea, is life itself just a dream? When we think we lie down to sleep, are we really arising and awakening to reality, to a life made only for running from our own personal Hell’s? What are dreams? Why do we have them? Why do we remember some for all our lives, and forget others the instant that they end? Why? What are dreams?!
Credit To – Sir William Alexander Tarver II

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