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Sleesh

Have you ever detected movement out of the corner of your eye, and looked around, but didn’t see anything? It may have been a Sleesh. This particular apparition can only move by periphery. When viewed directly, it defensively becomes invisible and intangible. As such, direct observation is impossible, so few details exist regarding their physical characteristics. When they can move, they are typically quite fast and are usually only seen as a formless, blurry, and translucent distortion, if they’re noticed at all. Although sometimes they move incredibly slowly, slower than the human eye can detect. Their population size is unknown, but consistent reports are common worldwide, even in extreme climates. It is unknown if they can die or be killed. Their origins are unknown.

Sleeshes are classified as parasites that may be indirectly harmful to humans. The most common objective of a Sleesh is to actively absorb the energy from idle batteries. The electrical output is small enough such that the Sleesh is unharmed, but large enough for them to survive for a reasonable amount of time. In rare cases, this can be very dangerous. For example, during a power outage, a backup battery may have been fully drained by a Sleesh. This absorptive trait has been responsible for multiple deaths, typically among those requiring life support devices. Similarly, emergency supplies have also occasionally been drained, such as radios or other communicative devices, hindering emergency assistance. Some Sleeshes have lingered in parking lots in order to siphon energy from car batteries, which can be potentially hazardous in colder climates.

If a Sleesh is running out of energy it may become more active in order to find a new location. They have been known to cause enough disturbances to incite inhabitants to leave. If the Sleesh is truly desperate, it may absorb power from larger batteries or even live outlets in extreme cases. This is very rare, as it causes a great deal of pain for the Sleesh.

Prior to commonplace electrical storage, Sleeshes were forced to subsist entirely on static electricity. Since the late modern period, some intrepid Sleeshes would slowly seek out lightning rods in order to absorb the large quantities of energy so they could move much more rapidly, in exchange for great personal injury.

In recent times, a Sleesh typically operates by gaining access to a building, often by quickly following alongside an unsuspecting entrant. From there, their physical actions are typically harmless tricks: knocking small things over; moving papers around; hiding keys. This is often to redirect someone's vision to the object or to other areas of the building so that they can continue to move around in the person's periphery.

Some individuals have found unconfirmed ways to deter Sleeshes, such as the use of strong magnetic fields. Others have devised a method for capturing ornery Sleeshes by putting monitored batteries in a Faraday cage and closing it when the charge drops. This could theoretically force the Sleesh into a hibernation state, as they would be deprived of any electricity, which could eventually render them permanently intangible, effectively “killing” them.

@DoraDoraBoBora

Can I submit a story I wrote once in the past? It was posted for viewing, but never used for a contest.

@SirLegendary I think, it would be unfair.

Might as well write something new! Though I would have wanted to enter in my "Church" story.

Where is My Mind

James, the lost mind, woke up. He couldn't find himself to get up out of bed unless he would take his daily walk. Everyday he would stay in his room locked away, waiting for his world to end. He was alone. His head hurt, and he did not know why. It was slightly bleeding. He saw bandages on the floor, he got up and wrapped them around his head.

His room was a box, with a bed on the east side, and a couch on the other side. A curtained windowed was on the north side while the entrance to the room was on the south. His fridge was next to the door, and it was the only thing keeping him alive. The living space was so small, that they couldn't fit a bathroom, just a toilet next to the window.

Everyday. Wake up. Eat. Sleep. Repeat. He couldn't remember anything else that happened during the day besides the repetitive process.

Every day he would wait for his wife to come back. Except today, was going to be a lot different. His wife would return, but not in the manner he expected.

He stepped out of his quarters, and started walking around the familiar place. The building was enclosed, and almost made him feel trapped, but the outside world wasn't for him, so taking a walk around the building was good enough.

Everyone was dressed in the same color. He did not know why. Everyone did the same thing he did (the repetitive process of waking up every day to doing the same thing over and over again), again, he did not know why.

A bell rang, which signaled something, James just couldn't put his finger on it. People were rushing back to their rooms. Again, he did not know why.

"JAMES! Back to your cell!" A man in blue shouted.
"What?" He replied, confused.

The man in blue was quite big, but was torn between muscle and fat. He grabbed James by the collar and started dragging him towards his room.

"Wait! Wait! I have to find my wife" He desperately yelled as he resisted the big man's strength.

They finally arrived at the room. James was confused. After entering the room, he heard a lock from the other side of the door.

"LET ME OUT!" he repeatedly shouted. Over and over again. He started banging his head on the door.

Then something came to him. He realized why he was where he was. He realized everything. He rushed over to the window, opened the curtains, and saw steel bars stopping James from leaving the room. The cell, he realized.

"Oh my god." He said in agony. "I've killed her."

He ran towards the door, banging his fists on the steel door. He started shouting again.

"LET ME OUT!" he yelled repeatedly.

As he got angrier and angrier, he started banging his head on the door again. He did so until he bled. His bandages came off. the door suddenly swung open with men in blue. James was hit by the door and the men started to beat him. After he fell unconscious from a giant hit to the head, the men dragged him to his bed and left him there.

The next day he woke up, not knowing what had happened. He did not remember anything. The beating and the banging of his head was so severe, that he had forgotten everything he had realized.

James, the lost mind, woke up. He couldn't find himself to get up out of bed unless he would take his daily walk. Everyday he would stay in his room locked away, waiting for his world to end. He was alone. His head hurt, and he did not know why. It was slightly bleeding. He saw bandages on the floor, he got up and wrapped them around his head.

Oh well...Might as well use the one I wrote about a year ago or so. I've been meaning to find some use for that one. Obviously not satisfied with the result at all, but it's worth a try:

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There was a young man, who lived a quiet and happy life in the city. His apartment was new and spacious, his job was interesting and important and his girlfriend was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. he always contemplated on how lucky he was being with her. His true love. This was the case even now.

He hadn't been with her for long but he already felt like the luckiest man on the planet. So understanding, so kind and polite with everyone.

As the man was lost in his thoughts, a text message from his friend interrupted him. It reminded him of their meeting, to catch up, as they haven't seen each other for quite some time. So he started getting ready to go out.

"Jane" he said, hearing a reply from the next room.

"Yes"
"I am going out with Mark. I will return in a couple of hours. Would you like to wait for me, or to give you a ride home?"

"No it is ok, I will wait!. Have fun"

"Great. I will see you soon! Love you!" said the man, and left.

The night was better than he expected. Aside from Mark, the man also met some more old friends, whom he has not seen in a life time. Idly chatting and drinking, the man didn't realize how soon the time passed. Luckily, his friends knew him for a long time, and would not mind if he told them he had to leave.

"Sorry guys, it's been fun but I have to go. Jane is probably waiting for me. But it's been really great. Thanks a lot!"

"No problem mate! See you soon. Well, as soon as we can at least! Bye bye>"

Arriving home however, the man received a phone call. From an unidentified number.

"Who is this?"

"Oh you know who I am" said a deep voice from the other end. "What you don't know is what I want"
"What are you talking about?" The man started worrying.
"I want to watch you burn. I want to watch your house burn. I want to watch Jane burn. Speaking of which, is she still there?"

As the man was talking he drew closer to his home. But he didn't have to be very close to see it lit in an orange light and lots of smoke coming out of the windows.

"Oh no...God NO!"

Rushing up to the first floor, he found his door wide open. Smoke had alreay flooded the entire floor and was moving up. The man covered his face took a deep breath and jumped in, but the smoke wouldn't let him see absolutely anything, not even where the fire was.

He tried to make way for his bedroom. He was successful, Jane was there, terrified at the grim scenery.

"Oh my God Jane. I am glad you are ok." The man had never felt more relieved in his life. But he couldn't say everything he wanted to say right there, they had to go.

The fire had already blocked their way out, but the man's apartment was on the first floor. So they had to jump from the balcony.

As they made their way there, the man explained what they had to do:

"Look how big the fire became. Listen darling, we have to jump. Are you ready?"

"I am ready" said Jane.

And, revealing a voice distortion device, she said "But you are not"

Can I submit a story I wrote once in the past? It was posted for viewing, but never used for a contest.

I think, it would be unfair.

Might as well use the one I wrote about a year ago or so.

With the difference being that it was not posted anywhere on the site @EmperorPalpatine Besides, trigon just said he thinks it would be unfair. No confirmation. The rules say it must be 100% original, it is. It is a creepypasta (well, more or less) too.

I don't know if it's long enough or suitable. Its the prologue to my book "Two Dead Men"

A perfect Autumn evening, crisp, cloudless and still. The fallen leaves lay ankle deep, brown turned to silver in the clear frosty moonlit night.
Alone, the creature lay. All night it had been there, still as death.
It was November and frost had formed upon it's coat, an icy white layer of extra fur, giving it an appearance of a stone statue in the full moonlight.
Soon, out of the deeper darkness of the wood, a shape entered the clearing.
A small shape compared to the creature, sniffing around for carrion. A fox. An opportunist for an easy meal. A lonely corpse, no danger, but still it was wary. Circling around, it made its way, sensing for danger, finally settling into the feed.
"Throat" the fox thought, "make sure its dead." And as it closed in for the initial bite, it was sure all was safe.
Lightning was slower, the creature struck. Before the fox could think, it was dead. The hunter became the hunted, its own throat was ripped from it with accurate precision.
The creature fed, blood pouring down its chin, dripping onto the cold earth.
"Soon" it thought "soon, bigger prey. Soon I will be strong enough."
And as it fed the creature changed, tissue reformed, blood and skin replaced itself and as the last drops of blood were consumed from its kill, the creature started to feel something it had not felt in a long, long time!
Finally, back it crawled to the hollow under the trees that it had made its temporary home. Hunger temporarily sated.
The moon set. Darkness claimed the wood entirely but the creature was still aware, waiting! Sleep it would not consider, it had done enough of that.
Thoughts of revenge passed through its mind, something new, something more than just the basic thought processes of eternal hunger. Its mind redeveloping, trying to shape itself into a more intelligent mode.
"Yes remember now. I remember who and what I am. I also remember why.

Five Nights at Franky's
Johnny was an average 12 year old, he liked to play video games, play basketball, you know. His favorite video game of all time was Five Night's at Freddy's. He would sit for hours playing Fnaf. It didn't matter which one he had played them all. He was playing Fnaf 2 for the 13th time when the phone rang. He looked at the caller id. It was Franky, Johnny's best friend. Franky announced that he was having a 5-night sleepover and was wondering if Johnny could come. Johnny was available. It was the first night of their sleepover and Franky asked if he wanted to play Fnaf. Of course Johnny did. They played and played for a while. It was 11:59 pm and they were still playing. The clock struck 12:00 am. The game starting doing weird stuff. An image got stuck on the screen. It was Freddy crying tears of blood. "SHUT IT OFF," cried Franky. "I'm trying! It won't close!" Franky decided to kick the computer. "WHY? WHY, FRANKY?" the freddy on the screen said. The boys both slowly backed away from the computer. The computer screen sparked and went black. The boys decided to go to sleep. Franky woke up at 4:00 am needing some water. When he got up the screen flashed back on. "FRANKY, YOU WILL PAY FOR THIS" A hand came out of the computer screen and grabbed Franky. It sucked him into the computer. At about 8:30 Johnny woke up. He saw Franky on the computer screen, he was crying blood like Freddy. "Look what you did Johnny!" Franky yelled from the computer. Johnny didn't know what to do. He started running out of the house. When he made it out of the house he realized. He realized that... the sun, which was now Franky's head was coming straight for planet Earth. The sun collided with the Earth and that was the end of this sad tale.

Hell's Messengers

74 years ago, on March 4th 1942, government officials agreed to sign a document that would allow 18 German prisoners to be experimented on in the hopes to turn them against their own people. Psychologists used forms of brainwashing to penetrate their deepest thoughts in order to turn them into mindless mercenaries. They would rip through the mental barriers of the men, stripping away their humanity. It was brutal torture, and the screams of the prisoners echoed for hours on end.
The director of the experiment, Professor George Walker reported after a few days of treatment, the subjects’ thought processes were equal to that of a child. Due to this, it was easy to manipulate the soldiers into believing that their own people were the root of all evil. The scientists used two main words to describe the targets: Unclean and Unnecessary. They would repeat recordings of the phrase “Snuff out the Unclean. Snuff out the Unnecessary,” until it was burned into their minds. The subjects were taught to be ruthless and utterly without mercy. Anything associated with the words were to be eliminated immediately.
The Army deemed the subjects a success and they were ordered to return to Germany to fulfil their purpose. They were dropped off at a secret landing point on the northern border of Germany with orders to do whatever was necessary in order to achieve their goal. The men, who now obeyed every order without question, vanished into the wilderness, with the words “Snuff out the Unclean. Snuff out the Unnecessary,” drifting behind them, long after they had disappeared from sight.
The government lost all contact with the mercenaries when the war eventually ended, three years after the experiment had taken place. All records of it were believed to be abolished. Those involved with the experiment were threatened with dire consequences should they ever reveal the truth about what had taken place in the secret laboratories of the American government.
However, they were convinced that these soldiers had helped the allies win the war. Reports from the British and American spies within the German command system showed that the German army and espionage section were terrified of the soldiers, deeming them “Hell’s Messengers.” Several were known to have been killed in action, after doing severe damage and spreading a path of destruction throughout the country.
Once the war ended, the experiment was concealed, buried so deeply that no-one would ever discover the lengths the Allies had gone to win. The subjects were forgotten. All were believed dead, as they were given orders to commit suicide once their purpose had been served.
Sometime after the war Professor Walker retired, the German experiment being his most successful accomplishment. However, he could never quite forget the screams of the prisoners as they lay, chained to infirmary beds, as their innermost thoughts were ripped out of them, exposed for all to see.
On the 10th anniversary of the beginning of the experiment, the Professor couldn’t sleep. Images and thoughts swirled through his mind and he saw the faces of those whose lives he had destroyed, their expressions contorted into howls of pain. Just as he was settled, trying his best to ignore these recurring flashbacks, he thought he heard a sound. Brushing it off, the Professor shut his eyes and turned over. It was then he heard it, an insidious whisper:
“Snuff out the Unclean. Snuff out the Unnecessary.”

HUngry Ghost Festival

The following is merely a collection of anecdotes and traditions passed down through the generations. At least, I hope they are just that; I’ve grown so used to the annual custom that I don’t bat an eyelid at it anymore.

Every seventh month in the Chinese calendar is one filled with superstition and festivities, for it is the Hungry Ghost Festival. Around August or so, superstitions borne out of the past surface and curl their insidious tendrils around our modern island.

The older generation used to whisper to us why they pulled us home early, why we were not to touch brightly coloured food offerings placed intermittently along roads, why there was a constant burning of paper money into the early morning. They solemnly swore that the gates of hell were opened, and the ghosts of our ancestors had one precious month to haunt the earth. They sought food, entertainment and offerings. But above all, they hungered for the presence of the living. For these vengeful spirits were of family members who were wronged in life and death. Ancestors who were forgotten and never honoured at family altars. People who suffered hideous deaths yet could not resolve their grudges before passing on. Or most terrible of all, black-souled sinners who in life sought nothing more than wickedness, and continued to do so in death.

As my parents were workaholics, old grandma took care of me, insofar as it could be called caring. The family matriarch, she was strict with me. She wielded her thin cane with zeal. She rubbed potent chillies on my lips whenever she felt I was noisy. Folk back then were generally less hesitant with punishment than they are today.

Most of all, she seemed to take delight in telling me ghost stories, especially during the festival. She used to point out the empty, red taped front seats at the cinema – those were for the spirits. She told me to walk carefully on pavements, to step on any food offerings would incur supernatural consequences. I was forbidden from wearing red, that otherwise auspicious Chinese colour was an immense pull for spirits. She gleefully recounted to me stories of distant relations who were tormented during that dark month, they had the third eye and could see things no one wanted to. One particular pale faced cousin shunned the roads, many accident victims with their horrible mortal wounds gathered there begging for help he said.

Grandma used to take me to the loud brightly lit night concerts that sprang up during the festival. These getai concerts were always boisterous, rowdy and filled with bawdy jokes, a stark and rather forced contrast with the otherwise solemn festival. Stepping out from these brightly lit tents into the eerily quiet dark though, no one forgot the reason behind the concerts. They were not for the living, these performances were for the dead, and grandma made sure I remembered. Needless to say, the front row seats were empty.

I hated my miserable years with grandma. I yearned to grow up and escape her control. The beatings were bad and the superstitions no doubt filled a young boy with fright and prevented him from sleeping soundly at night. But as the years rolled by and I stepped into teenage-hood, they bothered me less. My grandmother passed away around the same time, and I was glad to move out of her flat. And after her death, I thought even less of the stories, as a college education overseas and relationships snared my attention.

A while ago I moved back to Singapore for a summer stint. Rented a small flat, nothing much but still my own place. My immediate neighbours were friendly folk, and they often let me babysit their young daughter. I didn’t mind since as a college student I was always scrapping for cash, and besides Alice was a delight. She was a bright little child, full of seemingly boundless energy and naïve inquisitiveness. We grew to be fast friends.

One day as usual, her parents took off for a couple of days, no doubt for some much needed marital respite. We went to the playground together, watched her favourite television shows, and had arguments over her ice cream quota! All in all, a typical five year old.

It was while walking home that I caught the sharp scent of burning mixed with a jasmine aroma. I had not smelled it for many years, but as I looked around, the familiar sight of people tossing flaming, crumbling pieces of paper into a huge metal barrel greeted my eyes. A few more were lighting large bundles of incense sticks, muttering prayers under their breath. Quiet prayers rose steadily into a droning chant. So it already was the seventh month...

"I’m hungry, can we go?"

Alice whimpered and sniffed as the smoke made her sneeze. I snapped out of my memories.

"Sure, let’s go..."

As we strolled back, ice cream in hand, I noticed Alice's kept looking over her shoulder as though on the lookout for someone. She was unusually quiet and sullen, not her normal self at all. When I pressed her, she just shook her head, and looked down. In any case, I dismissed it out of hand. Perhaps she was simply tired after a long day.

The chanting only grew louder.

I usually left the door unlocked, as there were also sturdy metal grates that barred any entry. Alice peeked timidly past them, and gave a startled squeal. She begged me to shut the door and lock it as well. She wouldn't budge until I finally did, yet she refused to tell me why.

She didn't protest at her bath time, or even at her bed time. In fact, she couldn’t wait to jump into bed. Not even a bed time story. Curious.

I wasn’t tired, and anyway, the day’s events started making me reminisce about my childhood. I took out my family photobook and flipped through the yellowed pages. It was a long time since I looked at it. There was me wearing my school uniform for the first time, me at the beach, me with the family dog...zzzz...

"Morning!"

The harsh sunlight spilled from the window, waking me from my deep slumber. Alice had crept into my room.

"Oh hey, are you alright?"

"Yeah, she's gone now."

"Who?"

"That old lady!"

And to my surprise and horror, Alice in all her child-like innocence pointed at the book in my lap.

A fading picture of grandma smiled back at me.

"Morning!"

The harsh sunlight spilled from the window, waking me from my deep slumber. Alice had crept into my room.

I like pasta in lunch but many times we make pasta for dinner too

Six Revelations:

They say he killed his previous three wives. He truly was the talk of the town - going through three beautiful women in the space of 18 months.

His first wife died slowly in front of his eyes. I saw her regularly at the inn, looking weaker and paler every day. She had a look of pure fear in her eyes, and was never more than four feet away from her husband. Her perfect black tresses had been slowly turning white and then falling out, her skin turning paler than apparitions. The village priest said she had been possessed by dark forces - the mortician said otherwise. On the slab, the mortician was sure it was poisoning - but he had no way to prove it. No policeman would touch the case, no-one wanted to risk the ire of this man, a man who had never been short of power.

Over the last eighteen months, two more women have come and gone. He would always be pleased to meet people at the inn, but would show people his new wife as if it was a new pet he obtained. A sociable man, he would be willing to spend time with you - but he never let anyone into his estate.

A fool I must be for falling for him then. His charm was irresistible, a tall dark mystical man whose every word felt like a hypnotic charm. He took me into his large estate - where I was treated like a princess. The man was very rich, inherited mainly from his father who passed away two years ago. Every part of his estate oozed style and grace, a mixture of opulent pieces of local production and mysterious items from far-away countries.

I had been inside his luxury for at least three weeks, when I got up one night from an awful dream. Going downstairs with just a candle, I went to the kitchen to get a cool drink. Accidentally tripping on the last stair, I dropped the candle - leaving me in pitch darkness. I fumbled around looking for it, tugging at everything on the floor. I eventually felt something entangled in the rope on the floor that opens the cellar. I pulled the candle and rope up, untangling light from darkness. With the rope opening the cellar still in my hand, I relit the candle.

As I did that, two feelings of dread washed over me. The first was that I had disobeyed my husband. He had made it clear to me since the first day that no-one was to go into his cellar - and I had only seen him go down there once, to fetch a vintage wine.

This fear was superseded though by an even bigger feeling of dread. Staring back down at me from the corner of the cellar was the pained face of Cassida, his second wife. Horror turned to shock when I noticed it was only a face - the body was not there. I knew I was in grave trouble, so I quickly shut the cellar, got my drink and returned to my room.

Breakfast the next day had an unnerving feel. Was what I saw real? I questioned everything about him. Horrifying thoughts raced through my head in every room. Had he used the swords in his trophy room to butcher Cassida? Had the letter opener opened her up? I knew if I ran, I would only be in more trouble - a man that powerful could turn a whole city against me. I had to wait for my chance. I had to find out exactly what was in that cellar.

I waited until nighttime to creep downstairs again. I did not need to wake up, the fear of death kept sweet sleep miles away from me. At three in the morning, when I was sure he was asleep, I crept down and entered the cellar. What I saw earlier was not my imagination. In the corner of the room was Cassida's head. Sharp savage cut marks marked the end of her neck. This was no accident, this was a butchering. I could imagine her struggling for her life, as the brutal slices came raining down on top of her.

Just as I was caught in my darkest imaginations, I heard a rumbling from upstairs. Oh no, was he awake? If he caught me in here - I would probably end up next to her. I needed a reason to be here - so my brain worked at a million thoughts per second to try and weave a believable story or line to escape his blood-stained hands.

"I was, just er, getting you a beautiful vintage to celebrate the coronation" - that line might work, that line might be believable. So I searched around for the finest celebratory wine. They were neatly put in rows upon rows, above each set an inscription in Roman Numerals of the year. As I went further into the cellar, the years went further back - until eventually I saw the oldest years written on a wooden door. I opened the door, looking for a wine, but more importantly looking for an alibi.

There was wine behind that door. Oh, plenty of wine. A large amphora was full of it. But that wasn't what took my attention. I was feet away from another dead woman. My fear made it impossible to tell - but in my heart, I knew it must have been his third wife. Her arms were chained to the wall behind her, her feet manacled to the floor. She had no cuts or blood coming from her body, the chains on her arms were slack, she could clearly move her upper-body around, but her feet were stuck to the floor. The dread in my stomach made me stuck to the floor without any manacles - how could someone do this? It was then I saw the evilest thing I had ever seen in my life. On a table, six feet away from the corpse, was a table filled with the finest meats, cheeses and breads. This man had not killed her, he just left her to starve, with food inches out of reach. This man was a sadistic monster - and I was in his clutches.

I sighed in relief when the clatter from above had stopped, he must have went back to bed. I carefully left everything as I found it and returned to my bed. Fear had me in her grip, and I stood no chance of restful slumber.

The next day, when I went down to breakfast, he took me to the guest bedroom, where I saw that the monster had a gift for me. From any other person, this would have been the nicest thing to have ever happened to me, a sign of love and appreciation. But from a monster as dark on the inside as him, a white wedding dress brought nothing but greater fear. Thoughts rushed through my head, did he know what I did last night? Was I to be his next victim? I had no choice but to play along.

The preparations for the wedding took place in just three days. I kept my mind occupied and fear of death away every day by spending time in the library. It was only on the morning before the wedding did I discover something horrible. A page was earmarked in his Bible - I turned to it, Chapter 6 of Revelation. It was there when I realised the evil this monster was nothing in comparison to his true diabolical nature.

The well-thumbed page mentioned the four horsemen - Pestilence, War, Famine and Death. This infernal creature had killed these women in a designed order - in pre-meditated cold-blooded planning, and Death was the fate awaiting for me.

I put the book back, and prepared for my wedding. This was my only chance to save myself. Thankfully, I had one trick up my sleeve that he had not counted for. Live or Die, this wedding would seal my fate.

Don't turn back !

I am running , I am running like mad , I am running like I am being chased by a pack of wild dogs. I am running towards the sun , trying to blend in , trying to use nature as disguise. I really can't hold breath anymore , my legs are so heavy , like they were attached with some kind of weights. I keep pressing on , sun is my guide , it leads me to a cornfield. It looks so colorful , yellow corn leaves few sunflowers here and there , everything looks so pleasant! But why do I still keep running ? I want to stop , I think I am safe , I want to hold my breath , but my body isn't listening to me , it keeps moving on , like someone else has control over it!

What a shock , out of nowhere , I think I have seen someone in cornfield . I am speeding up , perhaps I can get help and finally stop this madness! I am speeding up even more , I almost don't feel my legs anymore , but I am not giving up! As I move closer , my vision becomes cloudy! It must be from the sun ! Wait! This is not a person , it's only a scarecrow! It wasn't a relief , since I am still running , but at least scarecrow made me smile. I am holding my view , thinking in myself how actually funny this scarecrow is! It so funny that I don't think it can scare anyone! Turning the last time to see the scarecrow , as it was getting out of my sight, that funny scarecrow turned into some kind of nightmare , evil looking creature!

Wait! What? Am I going mad ? What is this ? It must be only my imagination ! There are no such things as witches or ghosts , right ? I am turning my head in disbelief again , my heart rate has doubled , not only the scarecrow has turned into evil , the whole corn field is evil now! What a horrible scene! I am looking for a way out, I am chilled to death! I must escape from a corn field !

I keep running , trying to find a way out! Ouch! I think I hit something ! It is only a rock , I must be more careful! Where is the **** exit ? Ouch! Rock again ? I can swear it's the same rock I had slammed few minutes ago ! Am I running into circle ? Apparently not , I think I saw river through leaves ! The picture isn't clear but I am going towards it!

Finally I am out , what a relief , now I only need to pass river and whole this thing will be over! But wait , there is no bridge , I will have to swim to get to the other side! Let me take a breath please! I am going for it , I am not such a good swimmer , but the river doesn't seem to be deep, as I can literally see the bottom since the water is so clean! I am doing well, advancing , just a few meters more and I will be on the other side of the coast. This was easy ,I can safely turn and swim on my backs! Nooooooooooooo !

Why did I had to turn? The water is blurry and worst of all it's full of snakes . SNAKES !!! I am paralyzed , I can't move , I am chilled to death ! It's over ! Ouch ! Something is pulling my T-shirt , it must be a snake , I will keep my eyes closed and pretend this was only a bad dream! It's pulling me even more! Please be gone , please!
BITE ! (Mother tingling)

Mother : Wake up .... wake up ..... !
Opening my eyes !
Mother : You only had a bad dream !

What a relief , what a nightmare , I was so scared , I am so glad to see my mother! I started hugging her , finally it's all over!

Mother: I made you a breakfast , come, you can eat it the living room and we can watch TV!
Oh great it's a wonderful idea , I will join in a minute! My favorite meal , I am so happy. Let's see what's on TV!

I am changing channels , Breaking news , i keep switching !

Mother : Wait , turn back , let's see what's on the news!

……. Last night was terrible, the whole farm burnout , it was hell, fire has spread to nearby corn fields! Everything burnout. It was unstoppable wild rage fire! Even the snakes have come out from underground dens , crawling towards nearby river ! Let's talk with someone from fire department ! .......