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Run, run, as fast as your average legs can carry you. Just for the world's sake, run!
In this seemingly endless maze, I sweat cold, and my legs shook, scrambling for an exit. Each step felt like dragging my feet through mud, each stamp of my feet on the floor growing weaker and weaker. Those disturbing sounds echoed through the room; sounds of yelling, claws scraping on wood, and almost-silent sobs of those all picked on by that foul beast.
My legs grew numb, exhausted from carrying my poor body through this hell. Multiple times have I almost stopped to think: why bother anyway? I'm too tired for this, and there is no end! I will just make it out one way or another, I thought, whether that be life or death. I pondered for a while, my feet still stamping on the floors of that pit, running for my life.
The hideous entity followed me, screeching french words I could barely understand. The thing had multiple chins, swinging side to side as it appeared in front of me at every corner. I screamed for help, but nobody came. It's breath was putrid, a mix of coffee and despair creeping it's way up into my nostrils as the hairs in each hole cried a desparate pleed for the stench to stop.
The monster still following my trail, I took another turn, breathing hard and loud in attempt to nourish my body, even just a little bit. Did this maze even have an exit? Was I stuck with this terrible creature? My mind raced, cold sweat beads dampening my clothes as I ran faster and faster.
Who was this ogre chasing me anyway? Well, at least that, I had an answer to. The ghoul I had to see five times a week, the demon chastizing my every move, the oh-so horrible monster who leaned over every classmate who dared show the least bit of happiness in her class. My french teacher.
My god, how I hated that class. I hated her and her pungent breath. I hated how she rebuked every little thing anybody said. I hated how she tapped her disgusting fingernails on her desk, growling like an animal when she couldn't have her way.
Any day that would go great for me would turn south the moment I stepped into the class upstairs. Perhaps I was looking foward to something, or maybe I was talking to a friend. No matter what, her class never failed to stain a nasty frown on my face living for the rest of the day.
Her face was the colour of sand. Not "yay time for some fun in the sun!" Type of sand. Oh, no no no! It was much more like "spreading my familie's ashes in the cold winter night next to the dark grey water".
Her hair was similar. Kept in a flat bob laying on top of her blob of a face. The colour was similar, just a bit of a brighter blonde, contrasting her everyday persona. Her lips were always dry and faded, and her eyes blue enough to pierce through my head, yet not bright enough to be considered an average blue. Her frown was the worst of it all, however; thin lips closed tightly, glaring at anyone who "ruined" her day.
As if anybody could ruin her day any more than she ruins it herself! It pains me to know that some people would rather live in sorrow, to live in a huge pit of anger and dissapointment.
Her hands were another story. Old, crackled and veiny, acrylic nails tapping on the desk. The sound grew louder and louder. The tapping would intesify as she grew more and more impatient. Those horrible, horrible nails would make such noise that would hurt my worn ears. My mind begged her to stop, to show some mercy. But she wouldn't. She never did.
I was quickly running out of energy. Curse my blood pressure problems. Was I going to make it before passing out? My body is fatigued. I wasn't sure I could keep this pace up much longer. As if things couldn't get worse, the maze began to mantle, and become impossible to see my way around. Trying to fight with my eyesight, blurry from my tears and malfunctioning contacts, I ran around each little corner I could find.
Then, the liquid began. Starting at the soles of my shoes, a thick, red substance began to rise. Slowly, but dooming. It was blood. It rose up and seeped through the fabric of my shoes. Once reaching the top, it spilled into the coverage, making a squashing sound with each heavy step I took. The weight on my legs got heavier and heavier as the blood pooled higher and higher. Still, I moved on. Each step was agony, pain streching across each of my legs with each thump of my foot with the floor of the sea I was traversing through. The beast grew nearer, unaffected by the swamp rising through the endless room.
Countless mutilated corpses covered the floor of the big red flood. Past victims of her evil doings, perchance. The reptilian creature trailed behind me; paying no mind to all of her evil doings lying beneth the substance. It blurted out french nonsense such as: "En Français!". Tears pricked my eyes as the smell of it's hot breath reached up to my face.
This place was endless! Which fearful passage must I take to reach the end of this terrible world!? "Was there even an exit?" I thought over and over again.
I slowled down, my legs enverate. My legs were shaking and my eyes weeping from the boiling humid territory and the terrifying entith behind me. The cries of the drowning bodies beneath the blood filled my numb ears. A chill ran up my spine.
What did I do to deserve this? Perhaps I payed to little attention? Perhaps I failed one too many tests? Perhaps I haven't learned quite enough from her to reach her liking? The monster growled behind me, nails clicking underneath the trickling liquid.
The blood continued to rise, slowing my movements more and more. The beast following me didn't seem to have been affected. It screeched a terrible sound, deafening, to a degree. I covered my ears, attempting to plug out the terrible noise, not seeming to do much for the current situation. It's yelps swam through my hands, torturing my rattling eardrums with incomprehensive french. Almost indescribable, it was. I let out soft groans in attempt to silence the aching pain in my skull.
Despite the blockage of my ears, words such as "Madame" shot into the canals in a sharp tone. Each belch shot a bullet into my skull, leaving a needle-like throb in my head. My brain felt it like would combust at any moment, to explode all over the slaughtered masses under the rouge substance.
I looked through the blood that I ran through, now noticing the deep welts in all of the dead targets. The cuts seemed to have been inflicted by large claws, streching all over each body that lay on the ground. The monster drew closer to me, catching up due to my legs which struggled to dash through the thick blood. That and, of course, the shaking of my knee which were almost too close to giving out and buckling underneath me.
I tried to run faster, I really did! But it was running way faster than I could have to give. Still, i pushed on my feet and took off faster than I ever dared to try. My calves begged for me to stop, to just give up already, and my mind almost complied. But I refused. Even through my determination, however, the creature behind was much faster than I ever could dream to be. No matter how hard I pushed myself, I felt too slow.
Maybe that was a sign I should give up. The liquid continued to rise. It's obese flabs swing side to side with every thunder-like step. It's breath continued to eject, slop and spit spewing out of it's mouth like an electric nailgun. It's teeth rotted of dead mice; and, you know, just death in general. As the walls were continued to be abused by the smell, they gave away. Multiple cracks formed in panel.
The steps grew nearer. I started to panic. With no way out of this maze, how was I supposed to outrun this hideous beast before it consumes me? The yelling grew louder and louder, and my cold sweat was worse than ever before. The monster was only a little behind, already opening and closing its jaw as if it already knew it was going to eat me. Each unhinge of the jaw displayed countless rows of teeth, and a tounge which wiggled and made me squirm.
As a last-ditch effort, I tried with the last of me energy to dash, but fell with a big splash and a thud on the floor instead. I had tripped; resulting in my halt and what I had pictured an almost instantanious death.
I felt the cold rush over me as a huge shadow gloomed over the substance in which i was drowning in. I got up on my hands and knees, picking up my face out of the blood and looking up. Above me, the demon loomed over me. I could nearly see a small smile appear on it face, followed by a micro-size giggle. I was dead, right there, right now. It was going to kill me. With one last sting of the eyes, I glanced at the insides of the mouth through my tears. One last look at the rotting teeth, one last look at that eager tongue, and one last time seeing the cloudly hot breath the thing expelled. The thing lurched at me, opening wide as it took me in it's mouth whole. Still consious, I punched around. With me, the thing swallowed some blood too, along with a few of the decaying bones found in the contents of it.
The smell was foul. The putrid stink made me want to hurl. The thing's tongue swished around me and the liquidy sewage that I was covered in. The teeth moved up and down, looking for me, the source of the disgusting mass' food. I avoided each chomp slimly, despite the many rows of sharp destroyed teeth.
I struggled through the sludge, given almost no light besides the red hue seeping in through the mouth when the creature chomped. I wouldn't dare even try to escape, due to the sheer amout of teeth and the little room between each bite to run away. Although the mouth was massive, the carrier bit agressively, hectically, and scary. Sliding around in the slop, I closed my eyes, sealed my lips shut tightly, and covered my ears from the sounds isophonic to what I had heard earlier.
I sweat harder, cold and terrified. Has this monster got what it wanted? What was it's motive anyway? Like my french teacher, It seeked a child's misery, slurping up any sort of sadness a child could expell. That could be proven with my personal experience with her and the amount of happiness that this monster was indulging in with my current state.
Albiet my presense being inside of this demon's mouth, it continued to spout random french words and growl, digging nails into the morbid bodies at the floor of the reddened sea. Did this creature want more? At last, it made one last sound before adjusting my placement with it's tongue, and laying my damp body on the bed of sharp teeth. With one final scream, the monster bit down on my body, giving a loud crunch as my ribcage caved in on itself. I felt the bone peirce my heart and bleed out. I felt the pulse quicken and ring in my ears as I began to soak through my clothes. Sweat now seeping through my clothes and onto my bedsheets. Oh.
Everything I had imagined was all a nightmare. I sat up, pulse beating hard, and examined my room, making sure of my surroundings.
Everything seemed to have been in perfect place. The lights were dim, each item on each shelf was in order, and the house was quiet. It was dark outside, however, bird were chirping, signaling that it may be early morning. My windows were closed behind curtains which exposed you to the cold wintery air when in physical contact with them. The door was slightly open, to ensure that any pets will not wake you up with their demands to come in or out during the night. The closet was open, featuring still articles of clothing and other objects inside. The heater facing near my bed was on full blast, heat blowing directly onto my feet.
I shifted in bed, placing my pillows to be against the wall as I sat up. The bed creaked under the shift of my weight and a stuffed animal fell down. Due to my cold sweat, I pulled the blankets off of me and aired out my loose T-shirt. The sheets were damp from my dream. I shuddered just remembering the distinct horrid image that my mind had created throughout my slumber. Giving a final thought to my french teacher, I sighed in relief at the thought of all that treacherous anxiety being just a little tremor.
Looking for a little more reassurance, I glanced at my computer, which was powered off, and in need of a little dusting. The moniter was placed on a desk across my room, decorated in stickers and covered by little papers on the top. The chair was almost all the way pushed in, risen just enough to fit my legs under the table when in use. I turned my focus to the windows, which radiated cool air onto me from above my head. The windowsills held a dozen pots of cacti, all lined up. The cacti usually held flowers on each, but due to the recent weather, each bloom had withered.
I observed my bed. I had fallen asleep with miltiple trinkets on my bed. By accident, perchance. I shifted around uncomfortably in my bed, distressed by the big sweat puddle I created in my original spot. I move to the other side of my bed, closer to the floor and the rest of the room. Besides my bed creaking when I moved, I also heard a faint sound of scratching under my bed. I figured maybe It was one of my cats, who both liked to sleep with me in my room at night, and, from time to time, scratched my matress. This was different, however. The nails seemed to me caressing the frame of my bed.
I shivered, remembering the dream. Those wrinkly hands, those lanky acrylics, the way she would growl with her thin, chapped lips, nauseating.
Right at that thought, I heard a growl. It was low, gutteral, and intimidating. The tapping continues from under my bed. I dismissed it as my imagination for a second. Because, how could she have gotten in anyway? My bed fram was extremely low to the ground, allowing me to just barely fit between the frame and the floor. Like my french teacher would even fit under my bed! But I started to contridict myself. What was this noise? Was I in another nightmare? And how can I remove myself from all of this?
Hesistant to look, I backed away from the edge of the bed, now sitting in the damp area again. I lifted the covers over my body and tried to go back to sleep. It almost worked, if it wasn't for my racing mind and the noise from underneath.
The growling continued. Based on the more fequent tapping, I assumed that the thing was growing impatient. I pulled on my dyed hair, silently begging for it to stop. Split ends came off with each tug.
I stayed still, trying not to make a single peep. My hands stayed tight in my hair, refusing to fall down to my sheets. I stayed sat up, mouth closed tightly to ensure that I stayed completely silent. Each breath I took was extremely shaky, my nose twitching with fear. Now the tapping and scratching became louder, excessive, and way more agressive. It was impossible to ignore, to play off as "just my imagination", or "just fear".
I began to ponder again. My french teacher made every little thing I liked become a chore. Last year, with a different teacher, I rather enjoyed my french class! The former professer was kind, gentile, and reassuring. She enjoyed watching friendships happen, and encouraged joy from each student she had, without allowing anything to go to extremes. My present teacher, though, she sucked out every little joy I ever had around that subject. What I used to look foward to was now something I would rather sleep through and get over with. She hated every drawing I made on my paper, every question anybody asked, and every noise any of her students dared to make. She was especially sensitive to smell, refusing anything that had the slightest scent in her class. She completely contradicted herself, as she smelt terrible.
I reminisced about the old times of my former french class, where I wouldn't dread the period. Where I could actually keep up with the subject and hell, actually learned a thing or two from that class. I wasn't afraid of my old teacher. She wasn't rude, condesending, or annoying, and she walked you through each thing you haven't yet understood. She was calm, most of the time, only cracking when the situation was right. I missed her.
Where was this assurance I needed now? I wiped the sweat off of my neck, in hopes of lifting my spirits and bravery to check beneath my bedframe. Moving my hand back down, it was now soaked.
I sat there for about a minute or two, thinking about every possible outcome of me looking under the bed. Maybe it would be like my dream, where there was no escape, and I would die. Would it be the same monster, or a different one? Would this be my last breath? The last time I look around my dark room? The sun was rising now.
With every bit of courage I had, I scooted closer to the edge of the bed. Who knew what I would see at the other side? My bed seemed to groan under the constant scratching and tapping, and my back-and-forth movement. My sweating never stopped, which became apparent with each shuffle I made towards the center of my room. Despite my mind's protest, I reached the end of my bed, ready to look under.
I sat there for a minute, hesitant to go through with all of this. Then, slowly, I placed my hands on the edge of the bed, bending my spine over to lift my weight onto the edge, and carefully, silently, moved my upper body over the edge. Then, I relocated my head to look beneath my matress, and under the frame. There, I saw it.
My eyes adjusted to the darkness. Under my bed was my french teacher. Hideous, smelly, and growling. Her bright blue eyes glowed in the dark, glowering at me. Her chins all in a row staring right back into me. Her teeth were displayed behind her thin lips, only one row, not sharp. This being wasn't a monster, but still held that reptilian look. My hair fell into a puddle on the floor, ready for this blonde ghoul to grab it at any given moment.
Staring there for a moment, I grimaced at the thing so near me. She didn't move, didn't crack a smile or a frown, just... stayed there. Nostrils flared, eyes beaming into mine, mouth slightly open with a string of gross saliva, hair sitting on top of the egg shaped head, centemeters from my face. It was an ugly sight, not the best of days I have seen, and somehow, still dark, it felt as though the lady lit up the floor with her putrid presence. Speaking of the floor, it creaked from the weight of both of us. My hardwood floor was old, creaky at times, but could withstand plenty of force.
It finally dawned on me what was in front of me. I hastly lifted my head back up, and threw my body back onto the bed. What was my french teacher doing here anyway? I heard more rustling from under, more tapping and growling. Then, from the depths of my bed, I heard the word "mademoiselle". She saw me! Well, to be realistic, how couldn't she? I was there for around five seconds, but she never striked. I'm not sure I have ever been so petrified in my life. Stupid monster, always giving me a hard time!
I held my breath; she was scratching the bedframe in a panic. She was crawling up. This isn't good... I'm going to die like in that nightmare! I scrambled over to the other side of the bed, pulling the covers over to my mouth while i rested my back against the wall. My heart thumped in my ears, which were ringing on too of that, making it hard to listen for any cues from that monster above all the noise.
This entity was angry. Although her hectic fumbling, she had some trouble getting out from under the bed. Who knows how she managed to get under there anyway. The matress shuffled along with her every movement, giving me some time to think if it was worth getting up and running away. How fast could I run? Where would I go?
Before I could think much more, I heard a huge thud, and more growls to accompany it. My bed jumped from the intense pressure. Her narly face bopped up beside my bed, teeth peeking out behind her triumphant smirk. Her hair was sweaty, likely from how hard she must have worked to get out from beneath. Her eyes were two bright blue orbs which could have burned holes in my wall, and lit up the early morning. Her nose crooked down, like a bird beak, flaring such as a way to say "I'm ready to hunt my prey". Her head was shaped like an infected wound, painful, red, and characterized by a bump in the skin.
A claw jumped it's way onto my matress, nails peircing through my sheets, making little holes under each wrinkly finger. She dragged her unguis away from me, forming cat-like damage to my bedding. I fully expected her to pounced foward, and just take my life alreay, but she didn't. As if she was teasing me, timing my death, she continued to stare at my grimace.
I mindlessly threw my leg at her. Kicking the top of her forehead down. The beast squelched, then screaming in pain as my foot, cushioned by a fluffy sock, hit her aged head. I leaped out of my bed, booking it out my opened door and shutting it behind me. I would be sure to pick up the fallen objects once I am sure I'm safe. The sound of her screeching echoed through the door into the hallway I had escaped to. It would only be a matter of time before somebody wakes up; or for the professer to break through the door, rather than open it with her hideous sausage fingers.
I stood still for a moment, unsure of where to go. There were exactly four safe directions I could run. Five if I included my own room, which was out of the question. One would be the stairway, leading to multiple different areas which I could go. Nobody would help me down there. Another was the bathroom, which held a helpful tool, a foldable ladder. The ladder was put in place in case of a fire, so anyone inside could jump out the window, which was broken. That wouldn't help me either. Another way was a bedroom, which was locked shut due to noise. Definetly not. The last option was my sister's room. My sister's room had a working window, and I could get the help from her to escape this unfair nightmare. My sister was a deep sleeper, but I had no doubt that even this wreching would wake her up.
I spinned around on my right heel, and took off running down the short hallway to the other side. Her bedroom was on the left at the end of the hall. I came to a swift stop and grasped my hand onto the doorknob, turning it and letting myself in. Once done, my palm slid right off and I stepped inside.
I took notice that the rustling noise from my room came to a halt. It was dead quiet. Maybe she had given up, I though, trying to keep my mind open and hopeful.
My sister's room was in an L shape, the bed hidden behind a wall onto the left. The room was decorated with multiple posters. Although her room was usually dark, with the blinds set all the way down to block off any light, the morning illumination creeped it's way in. She had a closet and a dresser to store her clothes, which also held room to place many accesories such as earrings, necklaces, bracelets, and rings. There was a desk at the end of the room, covered in which I could only think were things she was working on the the previous day. There used to be a computer there, before I took it. My computer was simply just a hand-me-down from my sister. There were only a few things scattered around the floor. Aside from those objects, a rug was flipped over. Although I couldn't see her bed, it usually had many pillows, blankets, and stuffed animals on it. The bed was surrouned by a shelf and more posters oh her favorite band groups. Her sheets, like mine, were silk satin topped with a huge, thick, blanket keeping us warm from the harshness of the outside temperatures. Like my room, there was a heater facing towards the foot of the bed.
I lifted my gaze. My sister was standing at the end of the room. That was weird, I knew she couldn't have slept through this mess, but why was she standing up? Maybe she was as terrified as I was. Her back was turned to me.
My sister turned around. She looked... off. Her fingers, usually long, with painted nails, were now as crinkled as raisins. Her lanky painted nails were replaced by acrylics. She was wearing her basic home attire, but I only got a weird feeling from her. Her hair was long and brown, and albiet the darkness, I could see blonde hues painting her hair, which was now shorter than usual. Her face was almost completely normal, it it wasn't for her weirdly streched features. Her lips were faded, her nose was bigger, and her eyes were bright and wide.
Before speaking, I decided to listen for a bit. I couldn't hear any shuffling, nor could I hear growls and scratches. I didn't hear a single screech. Maybe I was hallucinating, still shaken up from my nightmare. Something was wrong.
I tried to speak to my sister, just a little "hey", but she only stared back. No response at all. I took a step back, and she took a step foward, further ruining the state of that flipped over rug. As the sun coninuted to rise, more light bled into the room through the window, further illuminating my sister's features. I now noticed that her face was all swollen, which scared my to my core. Whatever was wrong with my sister, she had to speak up about it.
"Are you feeling okay? You don't look go good.. I must have woken you up, right?" I asked, my breath hitching.
My sister, or whoever was in front of me took a whole to respond. And when she did, only a hushed "oui" came out.
That was what struck me as most weird. My sister didn't speak in french. Perhaps I viewed it wrong? She never liked french. I took another step back, left heel on the edge of the doorframe. I put my hand on the doorknob. The door was still wide open.
My sister's voice was raspy, and adult-like. She was probably just tired, I figured, or sick. She continued to step closer and closer to me, her face still as a rock. She walked by her dresser, tapping on the top of it with her acrylic nails. I noticed another thing; she smelt terrible. It was disgusting. I've smelt bad before, but this crossed all lines. She opened her mouth, letting go of her hot breath which she spewed onto my face. I continued to back up, until I was back into the hallway once again. When I tried to take one more step back, I found that I was trapped between my sister and the wall.
My head hit the picture frame behind me. I pleaded my sister to just tell me what the matter was, but to no avail. She took her final steps towards me, now standing in the doorway, and letting out a small growl. Not once did she blink. Without saying anything, she gave me a weird smile, and scratched her doorframe, caressing the door beside her. I eyed every the stairway that was so close to me, but I stayed put.
The floor was mostly quiet, but from here, with all of the effort my ears could give me, I could heard faint snoring from my sister's room. It was then that this being in front of me peeled back my sister's face, and I learned that it wasn't my sister at all.