Raging Hunger: challenge the dorment above | By: Brandon Music | | Category: Short Story - Horror Bookmark and Share

Raging Hunger: challenge the dorment above





Raging Hunger: Challenge the dorment Above

By Brandon Music


Hope had come from the past and never from the future as was in

david’s case. Holding the picture of his mother and two brothers he

started to sob. Why? Why did they have to die? His family had passed

away into death in a deadly drive-by shooting that took the live of 46

people.

He was in a deep depression ever since the day it happened.

Nightmares were his ally at the time when he went off into a slumber

where he would awake only minutes. the horror would never stop. HIs

dreams consisted of only two things: Watching his family die in horror

and his mother’s last words “Why have you done nothing to help us”.

Clenching the photograph in his hand he got up from the bed and

put his hands on his dresser drawer. He majestically pushed them to the

right side destroying the vases and glasses at one time his mother had

loved almost as much as he. He then raised his hands from what he

thought to be a ceremonious bow and gazed into the mirror. He could see

he almond shaped with the geometric nose. His brunette, wavy hair put

to one side symbolizing how part of him was dead ever since that day.

His was barely able to keep his vision from the tears that crowded it.

He raised his right hand ( again still clutching the photo ) pounced on

the glass shattering it to pieces.

“It still haunts me,” he said to himself while wiping his blood

off on the bed,”I have to move on.”

“Dont forget about us” a voice said in the distance.

“IT is I, your mother,” she said her voicing beginning to become

louder. “YOu must revenge us you have felt it coming ever since the

day of the shooting”. “We must no die in vain son , please we hunger to

have died in peace please, son please!”.

Then in a quick move her voice was out . Nothing but silence

filled the room with the man whose heart broken and empty. He wiped

away he tears and tried to contemplate what he should do. She he follow

his mothers words? He then decided to sleep on it.

Part 2

Nothing unusual occurred during his dreams except one thing. The

same horrible nighmare paraded in his mind like that grand finale of a

fireworks show. Then it came to pass and he came to be in his bed

(still dreaming). Blood covered his body, his muscles defined and vains

bulging as though he was just from a strenuous activity.

He pondered this the entire morning. What could he have done?

Was it a prediction from him going on his mother’s advice? IF so then

why was there a feeling of uneasiness inside him?

He got up from his bed and went to the kitchen to eat breakfast.

He cut around the corner to get to his kitchen. He quickly stopped and

stood in amazement of what he saw. There was blood everywhere, the ceiling, the walls. Cabinets were ripped from the walls; some even snapped in half. It was unrecognizable to luxury it had once been. His possessions were his life and they were gone. Not to mention the fact his heart began to race at the thought of how he would clean this up. Then suddenly a knock.

He froze in his place for the terror. Who was it? He slowly forced his limbs to walk to the door. As he made it the rest of the house was intact. He opened the door a screeching occurred making him slightly jump back.

As the door come to its end point two men in black uniforms showed. They gave Brandon a terrifying feeling. They were men that know when “something was up”. They shoulders bulged out of their long trenchcoats. They were like robots no expression appeared on their young faces.

“Whats the problem officer,” he said starting twitch; making it obvious he feared them. He opened the door and stood in the door jam like a king addressing his public. Shaking in his boots they were not impressed.

“There were reports of odd happenings and noises. You would not happening to know anything of this would you?” the “robot” on the left said while slowly moving towards Brandon.
He began to move back in his house. Before he could respond both of them had entered forcefully pushing him to the side. They pushed down his mother old vase. Why were they doing this he thought?

“Who are you,” Brandon shouted as they neared the kitchen. “Please don’t go in there
The Next One after Nichole

It was endless. The pain of his addiction fueled his fury toward his family and others. Finally Jarred decided to leave. To leave for good. He was addicted to excitement and danger. It controlled like a general his troops. Death was a personal friend. Like david he knew this powerful being all to well.

Still, he did not complain. Though his bills would be late foreclosures and past dues arrived at the door step like he would after coming from a night of partying. He made a new “best” friend every week and sooner then later they ended up nowhere. They vanished when he discovered something.
He wanted to discover something he knew was out there. What was it? He did not know. It was a force; a force that controlled all things. Similar to destiny, he thought, but above all the power to destroy. Which would happen to be its primary motivation.
Jarred woke up in a hotel he had just rented for the night. It dusty walls and smells of smoke and beer gave the feeling it was all too often for illegal and natty things. It gave him an odd sense of companionship and loyalty. A beautiful room , he thought sarcastically, admiring the cobwebs huddled about the corners of the ceiling, and the all to fresh stains of urine its opposite. He jumped out of bed supporting himself with the nightstand that lye beside it. He dragged himself to the bathroom while wiping his eyes to get a clear view of something besides fog and white clouds. He had an ugly night. O
ne of little memories and strong senses. He knew it had to involve drug use and alcohol consumption because he was hungover like he had never been accustomed to.
He finally made to the bathroom. It was in no better, just noticeably worse, condition then the rest of the motel room. The walls were stained red and yellow. Those who had a party need not know how to clean up in here he thought admiring , with a sense of respect, its no worse then what I would have done . He jumped back barely noticeable realizing that this was strangely familiar. Jarred then did what he came to do get ready to do, face the world where ever he was taken.
He quickly pissed oddly not taken much time or effort. It was odd ever since the surgery on his testes at a young age he had taken a long time to excrete his bodily fluids. What has happened to me? He thought now gazing in the mirror. He face was greatly intact. He cheeks were now firm and consumed his face like a predator on his prey the used to droop like an old man’s would do. He eyes were perfectly luminous and with a round, almond shape like that of an “normal” alien. His chin and teeth straightened and tightened. He looked like he was in his younger days. He was only twenty-seven but still he aged beyond his years.
He cleaned himself up and went out the door. He stooped by the manager’s office and paid what he owed. It subtracted from his savings with which he partied and saved at the same time. Like a clown juggling pins he could do to or more things at once, and do them well.


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