Do you like scary stories? How about monsters and things that go bump in the night? If you do, then I have the collection for you. This is an anthology of short scary stories, all of which are original; with more being added as time goes on. If you...
The crash had been bad. Alex lost a lot of blood, and the doctors thought he wasn't going to make it. They worked throughout the night to save his life. Finally, at the end of it all, they managed to find a donor.
But not before his heart stopped. In the time it took to revive him, Alex said he saw someone--a figure in the dark with bright yellow eyes. But the moment they brought him back, the figure vanished. He never told anyone about the figure. He was too scared to. So he tried to forget about it.
It would be weeks before Alex had regained even a portion of his strength. When he was allowed back home, he stayed in bed most of the time. His parents said it was a miracle that he had survived, and Alex agreed with them at first.
But then came the dreams.
They always started off normal enough. He would be doing something like eating food or going downstairs to get a glass of water. But by the end of these dreams, he would wake up, and find himself doing what he had been dreaming.
Alex was not a sleepwalker. And that only made this behavior stranger. He had full control in these dreams too, so he wasn't worried about doing anything dangerous. Honestly, they wouldn't have bothered him much if it hadn't been for the figure.
Some nights, he would see it out of the corner of his eye--a shadow that disappeared the moment he looked at it. But the yellow eyes were unmistakable. Other nights, it would be crouched in the middle of the room, a ghoul with matted dark green hair covering its body, gurgling in a low almost growl. It always sounded wet to him.
It was the same figure he had seen that night his heart had stopped beating. He was sure of it.
Alex asked his Father, "Are ghosts real?"
"They're only as real as you make them to be." He would reply.
So Alex tried to pretend that it wasn't there.
In fact, one night, he turned to it and said. "I'm not afraid of you!"
That was the same night it attacked him. Alex barely escaped. He woke up on the edge of his window sill, about to jump.
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That's when he realized that it was a problem.
Every night since then, he tried to outrun the creature or hide. He was scared. And the more scared he got, the stronger the shadow became.
He had been lucky so far. Just as the creature would reach out to touch him with its skeletal hand, he would be woken up, either by his parents or his phone. But things were getting more dangerous by the day and the shadow was constantly cornering him. What if his luck ran out?
He wasn't sleeping well anymore. His parents were worried about him. But he couldn't tell them about the shadow.
They finally decided to get him medication.
The first night he took it, he fell into a deep sleep. But Alex couldn't move. Even in his dreams! He just lay there, on the bed, still as death.
That night, the door to his room creaked open with a loud creeeeeeeaaaaaaakkkkkkk. Outside was a dark hallway. Alex could hear thump thump thump of something coming to the door. Then he noticed handprints and footprints form on the wall. They were black and dripping. They curved toward his bed. A thump thump thump.
They stopped. A pair of skeletal hands curled their bony fingers across the foot of his bed. Then he saw a figure peek over the edge. All Alex could see were a pair of yellow eyes and a skull of matted black hair.
"Go away!" Alex said, but his voice was too small.
The shadow uncurled its bony fingers from the foot of the bed, moving out of sight.
But then, he saw something move under the covers. A lump that snaked its way toward his chest. Alex was shaking. The covers lifted just enough that he could see two yellow eyes staring at him from the dark of his sheets. It said in a gurgling growl, "In the dark I like to play. In the dark you will stay."
And then a bony hand, wet and dripping with blood, came out from underneath the covers and reached out for Alex's throat...
His parents found him the next day, quiet and unmoving. Still sleeping, they thought he was tired and left him alone. But then that day turned into another, and then that turned into another and another and another. Nothing could wake Alex up. The doctors said that his coma was 'unheard of' and tried running all kinds of tests to determine the cause. In the end they found nothing at all. His parents visited him every day hoping that something--anything--might change.
They blamed themselves, of course, thinking the medication was the cause.
But they tried to comfort each other in this: the doctors said, "At least he's still dreaming."
