Turn the lights off and experience the horror...
Prologue for Trapped Within Darkness
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Trapped Within Darkness
Prologue
Lying wide awake in the old bed, my mind flicked back and forth to different distractions in an effort to relieve the building anxiety. The television downstairs was inconsiderately loud, but I don't mind. What was mom watching? Sounded like one of those old sitcoms, you know, the ones that had all that fake laughter and applause after nearly every smart remark any of the actors would say. Not something I would ever watch myself, but at this moment in time Teletubbies could be playing and I would still be listening in mindfully -- a welcome distraction to my tortured mind.
The light in the hallway was on outside my room, providing a perfectly rectangular glowing outline shining through the frame of the door. Just barely enough luminance to dimly light my semi-messy bedroom. I say "semi-messy" because there is an order to my madness, as there is to the mess in my room.
Posters of all kinds hang from nearly every inch of my walls, some looking eerie in the dark glow of the hall light. Everything from bands, to tv shows, games and books. Anything to hide the ugly stained and ripped wallpaper that probably predates even my parents. A large tube television sits across from me in the corner of my room, beckoning to be turned on so it can hypnotize me into being a couch potato. Luckily for me though it only gets a few channels of news, weather and an old western channel that always has some old cowboy flick on. None of which interest me in the slightest, so my future of being a lonely little spud seems unlikely. The desk in the other corner of my room, among the neat mound of trash piled to one side, holds my few valuables. "Valuables" is a term I use loosely, since they consist of; my old beat up wallet, a single fixed blade knife in a sheath, my cellphone, an ashtray that holds all my guitar picks, an incense burner with a vase next to it that holds all my incense, and a half eaten cheese stick. Well maybe not that last thing, as much as I value cheese that probably belongs in the leaning pile of trash.
When my eyes flick away from the messy room to stare at my poster covered ceiling, my eyes catch a look at David Gilmour, the most legendary guitarist to ever live. The shadows being cast in my room paired with the low light twist how he looks in the picture making his eyes seem black, as well as his mouth, contorting it into a wicked smile. The eyes seem to pierce my soul and stare straight into me.
"Yeesh Davy, you've had better days." I mutter in a sleepy voice as I shuffle over on my bed so I can put him out of sight. "I'm gonna have to turn around for the night, don't want the light to Shine On You anymore." Internally cringing while I chuckle to myself for the horrible pun, feeling relaxed for the first time in a few hours.
The feeling is cut short when I hear the downstairs television turn off and mom starts to slowly stomp upstairs. Every step she takes on the stairs creaks under her weight and can be heard throughout the house. I'm surprised that the stairs haven't claimed a victim of one of us yet by collapsing underneath us. When she reaches the top of the stairs the hallway light is flicked off shrouding my room in darkness. I can physically feel my chest tighten and heartbeat flutter faster. A feeling of unease crept over me, close to the feeling you get when you feel like you're being watched. I scooted back over to the other side of my bed, up against the wall. For some reason having my back to the wall relieves a bit of the uneasiness, maybe because I know that nothing could be behind me now.
My eyes shoot open as the clock strikes midnight, sending twelve thundering chimes down the now dark halls of my house. The reverberation made the old wooden house creak at every weak point. My eyes, almost painfully wide, try to blink the dark atmosphere into focus. Almost as if the clock had a heartbeat, the chimes came in perfect unison with each other, not a second off. Little noises engulf the old house. Just as bones clanking together, creaks and cracks would arise from the rafters up above, and an unnerving scraping down below from overgrown bushes and trees scratching our windows
Bong...Bong...Bong...Bong.
I clenched my thin, white sheets tighter as the clock sent shivers up my spine and eventually throughout my entire body. Goosebumps rose across my skin simultaneously as the clock chimed away -- a slow, monotonous tone that I wish would stop but also never end.
Bong...Bong...Bong...Bong.
My breath started to quicken; I could feel it on the back of my hands that had the sheets clenched and pulled up to my face. My heart started to race, faster and faster as sweat broke out on my brow, dripping closely to my eyes.
Bong...Bong.
The sound was almost deafening, echoing off the walls of the nearly empty house. Usually the farther you are from a sound the softer and farther away it sounds. Not this old grandfather clock. It could be 2 inches or 20 yards from my ears and I wouldn't be able to tell the difference. I could no longer focus on anything but the clock and my ever-rising fear of what was to come once the chimes stopped.
Bong....Bong.
It went quiet as fast as it began.
I do not fear the clock, or even the horribly loud chimes it creates. The clock is what keeps me awake, the last thing that makes any noise in the house after my mom heads to bed. The last distraction from the terrifying sounds, bad thoughts and most importantly away from the darkness of my dreams. Once the clock reaches the last of it's chimes, the truly terrifying part of the night begins. It starts with the one thing that haunts me more than the clocks deep, melodic bells...Silence.
Choices from the author for Part 1
A flashback days prior to the prologue for background of the characters life, situation and surrounding characters as well as a focus on the setting.
Jump right into what happens the night the prologue takes place.
Jump to the perspective of one of the dark entities in the dreams to foreshadow events.
The main character wakes up in the morning after the prologue.
Ready for the next part? Chapter 1
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Wonderful start!
I think you should continue with same night. Build it up to a point but leave it hanging, mystery. Build tension over and over.