24 Days Until The End – Claude – YouChallenge Short Story

She grips the lead pipe and turns in a circle, her eyes dart frantically around, trying to peer through the darkness that surrounds her, to no avail.

“P-P-Please,” she stammers, her lips trembling, tears running down her checks, freshly formed mucus runs from her nose, and into her mouth, forming a stringy, web like substance that joins her lips, she sucks in a deep breath, and slowly begins to drop to her knees, keeping her eyes forward, finally, after what seems like forever, her trembling hand touches the concrete surface bellow her, and her hand jitters across its surface, feeling frantically for its prize, a noise to her left causes her to suck another deep breath down, holding it in, in silence.

“WHAT DO YOU WANT!” She screams, clenching her hands into fists, silence is her only answer, she frantically feels beneath her, on the cold, concrete floor, with a renewed vigor. Another sound comes from in front of her, then another to her left, she screams, terrified.

“HELP!” She yells, “SOMEBODY HELP ME!”

“No ones coming,” a raspy voice says from the darkness, she freezes, she feels the warm, wet urine escape from her badder and it rushes to the floor like a tap turned on full steam, she shakes uncontrollably, and tries to catch her breath, choking on the air as it tries to go down her throat.

“W-W-What do y-y-you want?” She stammers.

“I want nothing from you Barbra, you’re the one who called me, awoke ME, from my eternal slumber,” the voice says, her mind races, as she tries to comprehend the strange man’s reply.

“W-What, I never called anyone!” She says.

The voice laughs, “I wouldn’t be here if you hadn’t, why couldn’t you let me rest Barbra? Why couldn’t you let me go?”

Her eyes widen with fear, terror, as she recoginses the voice, she wonders why she never realised before, maybe it was the panic, the fear. That had disguised his voice from her, she clutched her chest, as her other hand brushes past her keys on the ground beneath her.

“Claude?” She whispers as the lights suddenly come back on, they lock eyes, his deformed, rotting form stands before her, hunched over, an arm dangles at his side, the other bent awkwardly behind his back, his jaw hangs loosely from his skull, the muscle and tendons petrified long ago, she screams, clutching her keys, as he shuffles slowly towards her.

Today’s challenge was, ‘Lights go out as she drops the keys.’

Published by

Matthew Tonks

People are surprised when reading Matthew’s stories that he’s a sane forty something year old, happily married, father of one, employed full time and dream of dark disturbing things that any sane person would never even contemplate thinking of. But it's true, he’s toyed with writing for most of his adult life, but has always found the peg a writer must fit into is not the shape he wished to be. His writing can be described as lamenting, long, concussive (yes it smashes you in the head), compulsive, and stuffed with rhythmic communication and violence, let’s not forget the violence. His own opinion on his writing is this, “You see, I don't just want the words to seep into your mind, but into your soul, showing you images of blood and beauty through, volatile language, violence, sex, love and sin. My muse takes different shapes, and every now and then you can see her shining her wicked smile in some of my stories, tempting you with her promises, but ripping your heart out instead.” So have a look, and take a seat in my wayward ride, as you join me while I purge through, this twisted road of madness.

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