Board Thread:Writer's Workshop/@comment-26423665-20150630212145

After suggestions received I have revised and edited Eyes in the Darkness (now Eyes in the Dark) into a second draft on which I would appreciate further opinions. Changes include; breaking up wall of text appearance into more appropriate paragraphs, tried to shorten overly-long sentences, not such a set description of the creature and a better ending. I've also tried to catch grammar and spelling issues but can't guarantee I've got them all (or even most of them). I've kept it in present tense to attempt to draw the reader in as if actually happening. Once again if someone could cast an eye over it and offer opinions/corrections it would be appreciated.

Eyes in the Dark

It seems that almost everyone on the planet has a similar fear. If you’ll allow me to set the scene; you're lying in bed at night, the darkness embracing every inch of you, and you feel a little tingle on the back of your neck. Of course you try dismiss it as nothing but there’s a small part of your brain which seems to be unusually active at night that tells you it’s something more. That tingle, far from being a slight breeze that wafted gently over you, becomes a strained breath over your nape and your gut begins to tell you that you aren’t alone. You try to fight it but the thought has taken up residence and squats on its haunches in your mind; breeding and feeding on your fear to grow stronger and stronger. You shut your eyes tightly against the outside world and try to stave off the paranoia just long enough to fall asleep.

It's a vain fight though as once you’ve reached this point you know there can be no dropping off and you reach the epitome of the night-time quandary; do you lie there for hours trying to achieve slumber or do you open your eyes and look around the room to prove that there’s nothing there? Logically it's obvious that the latter is the only real option; that if you glance around you into the darkness there will be no intruder in there with you and you’ll finally be able to go to sleep unhindered. The problem is that the logical part of your brain seems to speak much more quietly at night and is easily led by the primitive, child-like portion of your mind which gives full credence to the fears that have now taken firm hold within you. Now you know for a fact that if you do sit up in your bed and slowly, fearfully open one of your eyes just enough to take a peek you’re going to be met with two dully glowing eyes staring right back at you.

In your mind those eyes give of almost enough light to make out the rest of the hideous face they are attached to; almost but not quite. Your imagination begins to run away with you and starts to snowball. Are those slit-like nostrils quivering with the excitement at the stench of your terror or are they wide and flared from rage at having been discovered? You're sure you see a wide grin spread across its face not just from the joy of having found its next meal but mainly because of the sheer number of needle-fine teeth crammed within but no; it's now a circular, lamprey-like maw filled with rows upon rows of saw-toothed protuberances. Then it becomes just a small hole with a spiny tongue shooting out and back in repeatedly. The longer you try not to think about it the more the creature twists and distorts in your mind coming ever closer to the most nightmare-inducing terror your vicious mind's eye can come up with.

Now it's too late to open your eyes, the terror having taken full hold, and you do the only thing you can think to do. You slowly and deliberately clutch onto the top of your duvet so tightly that your knuckles turn white and draw it up above your head. You make sure to keep it close to you so you don't accidentally touch the thing staring at you. You hope, almost pray, that this will hold as a final barrier against monsters like it always managed to when you were a child. You feel a brief moment of relief knowing that there is now at least something between you and it. You notice your mistake when you realise it could now be doing anything at all out there and you would have no idea. Your heart skips a beat; you're certain you just felt the mattress compress right at the edge. It was only slight but you know that evil being has just clambered up and is now hunched right over you; face so close that if it stuck out its vile tongue it would be able to lick you through the covers. Wait though; the blanket just moved a little down by your feet. So it wasn't on the bed at all; its now reaching a gnarled hand out to clasp you by the ankle and drag you out and take you away to its lair. Then you hear something; a wheezing, groaning, strained breath. You try to stifle a whimper but fail miserably; letting it know you're still awake and terrified. Now it knows it has you just where it wants you and you can feel it reaching out to shred through the sheets and tear the flesh from your bones. All you can do now is pray that it kills you quickly so you don't suffer too much.

Another hour passes of the knot tied down in your gut conspiring with the images in your head to keep you awake and, finally deciding enough is enough, you force logic back to the surface and determine to prove that you are indeed alone. Clenching your eyes tight and your teeth tighter you slowly pull the covers back down and expose your sweaty flesh to its mercy. The relative coolness of the room flows over you; you hadn’t realised just how hot you’d been getting under there. This slight relief steels your resolve just a tiny bit. When your throat doesn’t get ripped out you open one eye just enough to let some of the ambient darkness in. So far so good. You open it up fully, soon followed by the other and see a total lack of anything staring back at you. Feeling more confident by the second you lift yourself up onto your elbows and look around the room. Absolutely nothing; no grotesque face, no toothy grin, no gnarled claws and, above all else, no dimly glowing eyes watching you from beside the bed, across the room, through the cracked closet door or anywhere else. All you are faced with is the absolute darkness of the room and the nothing that dwells within. You chide yourself for your foolishness, for letting the frightened child of your psyche get the better of you and flop back onto the bed, utterly relieved. Now when you feel that tingle on your neck you accept it as the movement of cool air that it obviously is and you refuse to let your imagination turn the rumbling of your worn-out refrigerator motor into the sounds of breathing.

Outside of the above I can’t really claim to understand much about how the human mind works so I really need to ask one thing: Why on earth do you think my eyes would glow in the darkness? 