Board Thread:Writer's Workshop/@comment-33904527-20190105174210

Cold sweat flowed down Eddy’s back like a waterfall. Gripping his shotgun tightly, he swallowed and reached out a shaky hand to peel back the blinds. The sun was slowly dissolving over the horizon, melting into an orangey haze. Faraway trees lined the distant fields, their branches spindly and bare. The sky was clear, yet a large mass of greyish clouds was quickly approaching. It was silent; not the yelp of a fox or the passing of a breeze disturbed the air. It was always like this when they came.

The air itself seemed as if it was coated in a layer of grease and slime. Eddy took sharp breaths, trying to stay as quiet as possible. Dust particles floated by his face, like tiny snowflakes. A mouse scurried across the dirty floorboards, jumping through a small hole in Eddy’s barricade.

Eddy surveyed the room once more. The crude pile of furniture piled at the front wall was holding steady, with chairs layered atop tables and wooden planks stacked up against the door frame. He wasn’t sure how long it would keep them from getting in. Hell, maybe they were just playing the waiting game. Waiting for him to go to them. Eddy opened the shotgun with a flick of his wrist. Two shells. Not enough. A thousand shells wouldn’t be enough. He had lost the rest of them while fleeing to the room. Damned fool.

A hideous smell began to soak into the air. It was the stench of rot, like the mangled, month-old corpse of a slowly-decomposing animal. Soon, the entire room was blanketed by the foul odour. Eddy sucked in his lips and lifted the front of his hoodie over his nose, wincing.

“Try and stink me out all you want, it’s not gonna work!” He shouted, the words bouncing across the room.

A few minutes passed. The scent showed no signs of stopping. Eddy slowly paced back and forth from wall to wall, breathing through his teeth. It almost seemed as if the odour was changing from one pungent flavour to another: rotten eggs to vomit, spoiled milk to compost, roadkill to burnt flesh. Every unpleasantly foul smell he could ever conceive, merging into one, was filling the room.

Eddy spluttered and collapsed to the ground. The dusty floorboards beneath him creaked under his weight. Choking, he scraped his hands against the walls, pulling himself upwards. Vomit was quickly rising up his throat. Retching, he bent over to throw up, but nothing would come out.

Suddenly, the smell evaporated. Eddy dropped down to his knees once again and took a large gulp of air. His stubbled face was pale and cold.

“I’m not…fucking…coming out there.” Eddy breathed.

More time passed. Nothing changed. The room was just as dull and lifeless as before, and the land outside was still completely motionless, like a painting. Not even the sun had moved. Eddy sighed and ran his hands through his hair. How much longer would it be? Would they ever go away?

Would he be here forever?

Eddy awoke in a cold sweat. A vague memory of a particularly awful nightmare echoed in his head. He must’ve passed out. For a second, it seemed that the room and the smells were just a dream, but upon opening his eyes, he saw the harsh reality. It had all been real.

So warm. So humid. It was all he could think about. Eddy’s tongue felt like a slug in his mouth. A terrible aftertaste was stained in his cheeks. He glanced to the window. The glass was wet with condensation. Rainwater was pouring down outside. Eddy could barely breathe. So stuffy. Air. He needed air. Outside. He had to go outs-

And then he remembered. They were getting an advantage. An edge. He had to stay sharp. No more falling asleep.

The shotgun lying across the floor laid in wait for Eddy’s grasp.

Tap. Tap tap tap. Tap. Tap tap tap.

It had been going on for hours. Tapping at the window. The same sequence, over and over. Eddy kept his bloodshot eyes glued onto the glass. It didn’t make sense. They should have gotten in by now. Were they drawing it out on purpose, relishing in his fear? Could it be that he had found their weakness, something that may finally allow him to leave?

Eddy clasped his hands onto his temples. His head was throbbing. It felt like it might burst open at any moment. Too long. Far too long in the same room, doing the same thing. How long had it even been? Days? A few hours?

Something had to be done.

Keeping the shotgun barrel pointing firmly at the window, Eddy shuffled forwards. Thin slits of light poked through the gaps between the blinds.

Tap. Tap tap tap. Tap. Tap tap tap.

The shadow of a hand cast itself against the window frame. Eddy’s breathing was laboured. He reached out to the cord dangling next to the wall.

Tap. Tap tap tap. Tap. Tap tap tap.

Heart racing, he pulled the cord.

Sunlight flooded the room as the blinds flew open. Eddy shielded his eyes, squinting at the gaps between his fingers.

It was Charlie.

Eddy opened the window apprehensively, sticking the shotgun through.

“Please, let me in.” Charlie pleaded. His voice was tired and raggedy. Eddy stared in disbelief with bloodshot eyes.

Several seconds passed. Charlie’s eyes were glassy, and his arms hung limply by his sides. With twitchy fingers, he gave off the look of a homeless man or mental patient. His face was smooth and clean, yet oddly devoid of emotion. Just looking at it was making Eddy feel uneasy.

“Please, let me in” Charlie repeated in a sinister way, somehow not deviating in tone or pitch from the last time he said it.

“You…this isn’t…”

Eddy stammered. The weight of the situation was almost too much for his weakened brain to process.

“You’re not the real Ch-Charlie.” Eddy’s voice quivered as he spoke.

Charlie stared blankly at Eddy’s face.

“Please, let me in.”

“Those clothes…the real Charlie lost that scarf years ago.” Eddy gestured to the red and black scarf tied around Charlie’s neck. He was also wearing a long coat, one which Eddy recognised, but couldn’t quite place where from.

Charlie lifted his hand and smashed it into the glass. The force with which it hit was enough to shake the entire room. Cracks were slit across the window.

“Don’t make me do this!” Eddy shouted, stepping back with the shotgun pointed squarely at Charlie’s head. Charlie’s dead eyes were pale and grey. He raised his fist once again.

Another crack. The window wobbled on its hinges.

“Please, let me in.” Charlie repeated with the same tone and pitch as the first time it was said.

Eddy closed his eyes. His hands were shaky as they slowly increased pressure on the trigger. His whole body stiffened in anticipation.

Finally, the gun fired. Eddy was pushed backwards slightly at the sheer force of the blast. A deafening boom called out across the field, leaving a ringing in his ears. As the ringing died down, all that was left was Charlie’s inhuman screams.

Barely daring to open his eyes, Eddy creeped back over to the window. Charlie was sprawled out on the ground, writhing in agony. Broken glass was scattered across his clothes. Half of his face had been shot off, and his arm was practically hanging off his shoulder. Pellet holes had fired through his chest, and instead of blood, thick black ooze leaked from the newly opened wounds on his body.

With a final shriek, Charlie’s body sunk into the ground, leaving only a puddle of the inky liquid among the grass.

Darkness. Utter darkness, suffocating his body, its hands around his neck. He was defenceless. Eddy opened his jaw to speak, and the darkness flooded his mouth, pressing down his tongue. He couldn’t tell if his eyes were open or closed. There was no floor beneath his feet, and his arms were pinned by his sides. A cold chill wisped around his shoulders.

“W͟E͜͝ H̸̴A̵̕͡V̴̡E̷ ̛͏B̵E̸͝Ę͘͞N̨̢ ̸̛̛P͟͞A̵T͡I͟E̵̢N̷T͏” A disembodied voice reverbed back and forth through Eddy’s ears.

It was them. It had to be them.

“W̵͝Ȩ̵͟ ̢͢H͡Á̴V͝E ̧̛BE̢̕E̴͜N̷̵ ͢F́̀͡O͘R̨G͘͡IV́Í̸Ń͘G̡” It continued.

“Y̷̛O̷Ù͢ ̷HA͢V̴̷͘E F̛͟AIL̴ED̕ ́͏͜T͝Ǫ͝ ̷͡DE͏̛L͟͝͡I͠V̵E̸R. Y̛͝O̷̕U ́W̢͏I͜͡L̶͞L͞ ̢͜B͡E͠ĆO̡M̢Ȩ̕ L̡̧I̢K͘Ę ̡̧͝U͜͏S͟͞.”

A distinct whooshing noise, like the sound an aeroplane makes as it flies could be heard in the distance, creeping closer to Eddy. The sound quickly filled the void, and Eddy struggled in the grasp of the creatures as it grew louder and louder, soaring through his ears.

And just like that, he was back in the room.

Eddy pushed himself off the ground, shotgun in his hands. His vision was blurry, and there were whispers all around him, whirling back and forth like a feather in a tornado. A wave of panic spread through him as he felt the presence of the monsters outside, closer than they’d ever been.

He had to get out. He had to warn Charlie. The real Charlie.

Eddy jumped up to the window. Small gashes opened on his arms and legs as he pushed himself through the broken glass with great effort, groaning in pain. Letting out a final grunt, his body flopped through, and he landed face first on the soil.

It was freezing cold. The sun had disappeared over the horizon, and the night sky which had before been so bright with stars and constellations was now dull and empty, save for the slightly comforting presence of the moon. Eddy clutched his sides, his teeth already chattering.

They were out on the field. All around him. Not visible, but there was an undeniable, looming presence even the most sceptic of all could not ignore. It was the feeling of isolation, one that stood out greatly as Eddy began to traverse the field towards the barn house. Every step he took was excruciating. Eddy darted his eyes back and forth from across the fields to the barn, praying that he might see a flash of headlights or some late-night hikers in the distance.

Nobody.

Charlie sat quietly at the table, newspaper in hand. There usually wasn’t anything too interesting in the headlines, and today was no different. But the puzzles were always decent. He leaned back in his chair, staring at the ceiling, trying to think of another word for “impatient”. Twiddling his pen between his fingers, Charlie hardly noticed the sound of frantic footsteps approaching the door.

Without warning, Eddy burst in, a look of death in his eyes. Charlie jumped slightly and raised his eyebrows at the bloody arms and legs of his brother.

“Shit, Eddy, you ok? You’ve been out hunting for hours. I was gonna check up on you in a minute. I heard a gunshot earlier; did you get anything for dinner? What’s with all the broken glass?”

“GET BACK! GET THE FUCK BACK!” Eddy screamed. His eyes were flailing around like a madman and he was waving the shotgun back and forth, slowly edging towards Charlie.

“Aw, shit.” Charlie responded. “Eddy! Eddy, calm down, it’s me! It’s Charlie! You’re having another episode!”

“WHERE THE FUCK IS CHARLIE? WHERE IS HE, YOU MONSTER?”

“I’m not a monster! I ain’t one of those things you used to talk about! I’m not gonna hurt you!”

Eddy snarled and ran for the ladder on the other side of the room, knocking over another table. Throwing the shotgun up to the second floor, he began to ascend the rungs.

“CHARLIE? WHERE ARE YOU CHARLIE?!”

Breathing heavily, Eddy crawled up another ladder to the third floor, disappearing through a trapdoor that lead to the roof.

They were everywhere, surrounding the barn house. Shapeless figures blacker than the night. They stretched on for miles, lurking near the trees and down the road. The whispers were louder than ever. Just looking at the beings made Eddy want to tear his eyes out and squish them into the ground with his heel.

The howling wind whisked over Eddy’s bald head, watering his eyes and turning his hands numb. Slowly, the trapdoor opened once again, as Charlie crawled out onto the roof.

“STAY AWAY FROM ME!” Eddy yelled.

“For God’s sake Eddy, please, listen to me! Whatever you see, whatever you think is out there isn’t real! I thought we were done with this, Eddy! You haven’t had an episode in more than a decade!”

Eddy went silent. There was a glimmer in his eyes, and for a moment, it seemed the episode was over.

“Eddy…it’s all in your head. None of it’s real. You must’ve gotten spooked by something and holed down in there.” Charlie gestured to the field, observing the shack with the broken window.

“We’ll get you straight again, Eddy. We’ll go to Dr Gordon; he’ll make things right. Now…just put down the sh-”

The gun fired.

Eddy stumbled over backwards and hit his head on the roof, dropping the gun over the edge. Charlie dropped to his knees, looking down at his exposed stomach and intestines falling out of his body, pellets lodged into his neck.

“E-Eddy.” He choked out.

A final wheeze escaping his mouth, Charlie’s eyes rolled into the back of his head and he fell sideways off the roof, landing on the grass below with a wet thud.

The first rays of sunlight cast themselves upon Eddy, stirring him from his slumber.

“Aw, man…” He croaked. “How wasted did we get last night, Charlie? My head’s pounding like crazy. I don’t even remember anything.”

But Charlie wasn’t there. Eddy pushed himself into a standing position. He was on the roof, of all places.

“…Charlie?” He called out. No answer. Eddy trudged over to the trapdoor, noticing a red stain on right side of the roof.

“Ah, wine. Classy.” He muttered to himself.

Stepping down into the living room, Charlie was nowhere to be seen. There was, however, an awful stench that seemed to be coming from outside.

“Charlie, did you take the garbage out?” Eddy called out again. Still no response.

A family picture was smashed on the floor near the ladder. Eddy picked it up and placed it on upright on a chair, sighing.

“You’re cleaning this up, Charlie. Hey, listen. I’m gonna go head over to the lake for some fishing to clear my head. I might be gone the whole day. Mom and Dad are coming over at about 3, so have the house ready by then. See ya.”

Grabbing a bucket from the kitchen and his fishing rod from his room, Eddy headed out into the chilly autumnal air, a smile on his lips. 