Nightmare Room 2 - The Return

Updated on October 8, 2018
Paul Garand profile image

I write classic "good vs evil" creative writing pieces with smart twists inspired by vintage action cinema, gaming, and heavy metal.

Disabling my captors, I heard many desperate screams in the dark hallways; "He's back. Run! RUN!" "He remembered! We failed to control him!" I am indeed back, but what was I supposed to remember and why did they try to suppress and erase it? Erase it with fear, pain, and suffering of others as I was immune to their methods.

As I predicted before, they were too physically weak to restrain me since they went for our minds - my friends fell to that; delivering the final blow themselves. My capture was also a cheap shot; sucker - punched from the back and dragged away in some seedy part of town even the local police force didn't care for. The tattered wallpaper on cracked walls and the scurrying of rats and bugs grew on me when the screams of pain quietened down.

All of us who sat here were too scared to move as they will hear us and we found out that they really don't like to be bothered. Even the slightest move would result in a growl outside the door followed by scratching. My friends grew to like the thought of staying here under the protection of the dim bulb on the wall. I realised why kids are afraid of the dark, why people develop this fear regardless of their maturity; stepping into it is invading the domain of whatever lived within; whatever the light kept at bay. Stepping in, you start feeling that you broke their law.

Every hour, an ugly creature with thick fur and shovel-like hands; smelling of rotten flesh and mold would come to terrorise us; shambling towards us while we slept; trying to grab and carry anyone away into the dark. My friends got snatched by him one by one; their screams heard outside the door - none of us knew what it did. Our imagination feared the worst. I killed it. The abomination came in once, thinking I was asleep; stood outside and listened for movement, and as it tried to grab me, I grabbed it back and after 3 headbutts to its barely-visible face, I put it to the ground with a tactical leg sweep and with its shoulders under control, my cross-grip shifted to its throat - choking it to death with my forearms as my forehead, literally, made holes in its own. It was big and wide, looking more like a hybrid of a bear and a gorilla; having a muscular structure that could have easily torn me apart if it wasn't for the shock it got from my retaliation.

The abomination lay dead, choked and finished off with a head trepanation. One more stormed in, growling in vengeful anger; without care for my safety, I killed it too. Tackling it to the ground and once again, literally punching its eyes and larynx out with repeated strikes to them; my fists sharpened with constant knuckle pushups. It swung around, trying to cling to any part of me while I went to work on its throat. Fast forward to now, when I defeated the apemen, broke out of captivity and shown them that I care little for my own life - I will get them all. I am no hero and I am not here to save anyone - I am here to destroy.

Calmly, I was walking down what resembled a school hallway with lockers and doors leading to rooms; walls decorated by muddy, blurry murals; smiling kids with goat horns and outstretched hands and the words "Come to us!" written in every language. A large sickle and hammer akin to the Communist symbol but instead, the sickle was a human spinal cord (drawn anatomically) full of cracks while the hammer was a human brain impaled on a syringe.

"RUN! RUN! RUN!" muffled roars echoed through the hall.

"His spine is too strong!" another, higher pitched roar followed.

"GET HIM!" a calmer, stern roar erupted, "RIP IT OUT!"

Sounds of cages rattling, many footsteps and more animalistic roars erupted. The apemen; last line of their defense. They could have been those who were strong enough but failed to fight out and thus, fell to their influence. Many yellow eyes lit up in the dark hall. All at once, they charged me. I charged back with a shoulder spear to whoever was the closest. Animals only understand a few things; fear, strength and domination so, I had to really hurt one of them; preferably the strongest. Elbow to mouth, repeated thrice; I had a melee weapon afterward.

The apeman's fangs were the length of a hunting knife. As the creature roared in pain spraying me in blood, I jammed his own fang into his throat; like a machine on an assembly line; repetitive stabbing. I didn't care about the other apemen; I killed their leader so, at least I hope so, their primal instincts have turned into a broken PC with "Not Responding" messages. Covered in blood, fang in hand - pointing upwards to stab whatever stood behind in the throat; I turned around to face the animals, muscular arms and salivating mouths under more stress. Low growls were not as intimidating now; rather careful yet still trying to maintain edge; desperately.

They were animals so I realised I had to retort in their way; I saw that the alpha male roars to assert dominance over his vanquished opponents in the world of carnivorous creatures and thus, I let out a convincing imitation of a guttural grow of a death metal vocalist. To my surprise, the disarrayed creatures backpedaled; if only the apemen understood human speech so I could add something else.


An eerie silence fell on my ears as everything was gone from the hall, nothing but darkness and the scurrying of rats was brave enough to stay. Covered in blood, animal fang in-hand, I progressed to a door at the end. I was almost out of here, the twisted place was a school, so I began to gather as it had the decor of one. A school that seems to be re-purposed into some kind of prison or a concentration camp. Both my nightmares rolled into one.

As a kid, I always had a fear of staying in school for too long as something was always very wrong at that time. Recalling it now, I am seeing a connection with the present events now, it goes back as far as the 1990s when I had to stay back for detention. I saw something I shouldn't have and all this time, it was after me; the only place I didn't feel it was during military service - guess whatever it was, it had an allergy to 5,45mm bullets and a phobia of AKs. That and our lieutenant, a Soviet-Afghan campaign veteran would use it as a bayonet pin cushion.

I remember now, it was my teenage years, going home after my detention; about to leave the school grounds for a much-awaited session of Quake 2. It was dark and the place suddenly gained an evil aura; not a soul in sight, cold wind making me shiver and a weird noise coming from the playground; as if someone was digging. As kids, we always tend to gamble with our fourth points of contact (the posterior side) in risky adventures and now was no exception either. I followed the sound of the shovel striking soft soil till the rusty swingset came into view; something indeed was digging but it didn't look human.

I lowered my stance and used the darkness and an old slide as cover, the closer I got, the more regret I felt. Primal fear set in as the digger came into better view; this thing was not human! Limping around, making high pitched growling noises; sounding like an angry wolf in a trap, it dropped the shovel and in a fireman's carry, it lifted what was a white sheet; wrapping something bigger than it was. The sight horrified me; it was a body! I realised that when the second sheet unraveled; revealing Fedor Ivanovich, the school caretaker. The man's face was brutalised, something ripped out the eyes and finished the job by splitting his head with what I guessed was a shovel.

I wanted to run, run as fast and far away as I could from here, the sight of whatever it was throwing bodies into a hole as it began humming an unfamiliar tune - a twisted, skin-crawlingly eerie motif was too much. I wanted to run to the first police precinct and cry for them to send an OMON (Russian analog to SWAT) unit with the heaviest weaponry to terminate this thing!

My heart began pounding as I slowly crawled backward, not daring to take my eyes of the creature but then, I lost balance and fell - hitting my head on the slide. The thump resonated fast along the graveyard silence of the night, the creature went silent, gripped the shovel with both hands and began surveilling every inch of the playground; it was angry. I could swear I almost lost consciousness when it's gaze stopped at the slide; it was looking RIGHT AT ME!

"Come out!" it howled with a twisted grin slicing through its deathly pale face "Don't be afraid!"

I couldn't scream, I was gathering what remaining of my strength to run, the creature began to jump around as if dancing.

"Come out! Come out! Come out!" it croaked as it began to sing a hellish song.


Gathering my last ounces of bravery, I felt around, hoping for a rock; like a Godsend, I felt a rough, hard surface. I picked it up and lobbed it without aiming. It hit the creature right on the forehead. I broke into a run and out of fear, never looked back. Years later, this thing seemed to tail me, everywhere I was; people began disappearing and shadows blocked windows at night.

Fast forward to now, I am in the school, fists clenched at the ready, tightly gripping the fang; listening to the silence as I progress towards the door. The school grew familiar, right down to seeing myself on a billboard where graduation classes had their group photos. Was the place condemned all this time?! No wonder it appeared to be frozen in the 1990s when outside, it's mid-2000s.

The main entrance, the front desk of where a security guard would sit, rickety doors; I am almost out but then, a silhouette sitting on the chair caught my eye; it was sobbing and in a familiar voice, repeating "Why?!" I heard it before, it sounded like it belonged to a girl I had a crush on during school, a Pakistani immigrant to the Soviet Union, Sidrah. I always tried to impress her then.

Dropping the fang, sitting by the silhouette, throwing my arms around it, tapping it gently, "It's OK, Sidrah, we're almost out, I'll protect you." The sobbing stopped and like whiplash, I found myself pinned to the wall with this thing from my memories staring back at me, "I HAVE YOU NOW!" it croaked in the same eerie voice. Its breath smelled like fresh graves and its tight grip on my throat made me lose consciousness.

I woke up and saw the same room where I started, sodomy, devils, and death drawn on the walls, dim bulb on the ceiling and this thing over me, grinning with satisfaction. It has been 29 years and this thing was still alive, still looking for me all this time and now, it finally got me. Right where it wants me. I realised I was tied up, tied to the bed with strong belts; I can't move an inch. All I could do is look up in horror as this thing looming over me, laughing maniacally, screaming in victory as it jumped around the room.

Last of what I saw is the creature smashing the lightbulb in screaming rage.


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    © 2018 Jake Clawson

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