Today I have a short story for you that I received in autumn last year. This piece was written by Quinn Higgings and I'm really happy to feature it on my blog today. Don't read it late at night and don't read it if you're scared already but other than that go for it!
Frost of the Dark
By Quinn Higgins
The darkness was illuminating. At least, it was to her right then as she glanced at the frightening clown’s costume in the Halloween shop. The darkness was shedding too much light on the costume. Its face was morphed into a sickening grin; its red lips pulled up until its ears, and painted blood dribbled along its maniacal face. Its visage was as pale as her crisp bed sheets with visible, caked make up. Its eyes, oh, its eyes were the worst part. They were a glowing orange that seemed to gnaw at your soul and spit you back out. The girl shuddered as she looked again at the devil’s face. Oh, but she knew there was a whole separate costume for the devil. But to her, as the clown’s eyes bore into her, she decided that this was, in fact, the true devil.
The teen glanced back down at her phone to look again at the text, “I swear my mother is cruel. You can go to the shop without me though. We need the costumes by tomorrow! Get me the angel one will ya? ;)” The girl released a loud sigh as she had for the last half hour after reading the text. Her friend had bailed yet again, and she knew almost certainly that the mother wasn’t the problem.
It was almost nine o’clock at night, and yet it seemed that the sun had taken a plunge into the deep end. She hesitantly creaked open the Halloween store, and descended into the dark. The soft, orange glow gave off a warm but haunted atmosphere. Two tall, dark rows filled with costumes aligned across the wood grounds. The teen took a deep breath inwards and chanted lowly under her breath, “Angel, angel, angel, angel,” Knowing her, she would probably forget their costumes in a heartbeat.
“Hello?” a low, grumbled voice asked. The teen jumped, startled, and quickly put a calming hand to her heart. A silhouette stepped out in between the two rows. The soft orange glow outlined the humpback shape of the creature, as much as the twiggy legs that shook beneath it. The winged demon advanced closer, forcing a scream out of the girl’s mouth.
“Miss, hello?” the demon crept forward like the Satan, its sword clenched between its knuckles. Hysteria bubbled in the girl’s chest. The stuffy room gave off the odor of death, and the air thickened as a grunt filled the room. The girl could see, even through the darkness, a sickening grin plastered across rotting flesh. She could even see the yellow, sharpened teeth jutting out yearning for her ripened flesh and sweet blood.
Suddenly as if Heaven’s gated had opened, light flooded into the room. In front of the girl stood not Satan nor winged demon, but an old man struggling to hold his cane because his hand was over the light switch. His eyes were pale, and widened as he gazed over to the trembling teen who stood quaking with her frail hand grasping at her chest. The scream still rang through his almost deaf ears.
“H-hello? I-I need- costume- angel?” the words left her lips violently and quickly, almost like ripping off a bandage. The old man nodded slowly, and set his lips into a firm line. He had heard that scream previously.
Before he could show her anything, a gunshot tore the air like claws to flesh. After that, all was silent. Though with silence, came a buzz. This was a buzz of fear, uncertainty, and horror. The girl wanted nothing more to destroy the silence. She tiptoed into a row full of costumes, and pushed inwards.
Silent footfalls crept down the staircase, and soon they descended as well into the clutches of the store. The buzz stilled as the gun clicked. Was that the safety?
“Good evening,” spoke the old man in a distanced voice. Finally understanding the future events, the girl preferred the screaming buzz rather than this reality. She held her breath in vain to get it back.
“We want the money,” deadpanned a gruff voice. The girl could now see in her head a black cloth around the burglar’s mouth. It was a long moment of wrestles and shouts until the money was piled into a bag, and the old man taken, too. She dared not release her breath.
“Turn off the lights,” ordered one of them. No! She internally screamed. Fear crawled back into her heart, as she envisioned the demons. After that, there was a follow of shoves. She could hear the warm air streaming out of one of the devil’s nostrils. She could also listen to the uneven breath from the old man. Thinking it sufficiently loud, the girl turned around, and instead faced the display window. Death was gruesome. The last thing she ever saw before the dark swept them again was the flash of the double faced clown.
“Lock the door,” breathed one of the men, as he ascended back into the higher world. There was another rustle of noises up the staircase. The man was struggling; she did not need sight to know as much. Suddenly, the door was slammed shut, and the last breath from the other world was sucked in. The lock clicked. Immediately, she fell forward out of the racks. The room seemed to eat and gnaw at any light until there was no more. Though, as much as she wanted to, she couldn’t curl up and close her eyes. This was due to the fact that whenever she did, bloodthirsty eyes and a painted, red smile would fill her vision. She whimpered. Fear chilled her bones, and terror seized her heart. She slowly crawled on all fours to the tall and high light switch. As she neared it, a small smile curved her lips. Light could save her. Her hand, quick as a cobra’s tail, flinched up and flicked the switch.
Except, no light was gifted. The horror of darkness stayed. Before a single sound let her lips, a soft thud killed the silence. It laughed.
Thud. Thud. Thud.
The sound wasn’t of her heart beating loudly, but rather, through the blanket of darkness and evil, the sound of the thing moving along the aisle.
Thud. Thud. Thud.
The sound was getting louder. The sound stomped harshly against the floor, and the wood under the girl’s paws were creaking with its proximity. A maniacal laugh filled the air, and the owner continued to walk towards her. Like spiders, a chill crawled up her back , and into her neck. The girl chose not to interrupt the buzz of silence, and instead slid sideways. Who could come help her?
Thud. Thud.
Tears slid down her cheeks.
Thump.
What was it?
A cold breath frostily breathed onto her neck making a presence known behind her. Without thinking, the girl screamed and shot up. She slithered quickly through the aisles in fear. Her body squirmed from the chill of the floor? Why was it so cold? The chilling atmosphere reminded her of her grandfather’s funeral.
Slowly, it trudged forward aiming to catch up with its prey. It could almost smell the victim now. It felt the warm liquid sliding down its jaw. Blood. The red juicy fluid slimed itself down its neck and into the hollow of its pasty throat.
Screams tore out from the girl’s chest, as the monster appeared in front of her. There, in front of her, was the same sick grin that the display window had shown.
“No!” Madness swirled in her eyes, and she darted away. She ran.
Its glossy red shoes thudded against the floor. It had seen her stop into the corner. It swiftly popped out of the corner, to catch her.
Except, she wasn’t there. She had disappeared into the air, as so many others had.
The only thing that was left of her was her brightly lit phone.
It licked its lips in satisfaction.
The darkness was indeed illuminating.
