Extract from something i'm working on. Would love some feedback on the flow and suspense.
I awoke with a jolt, to the sound on an abrasive thudding. It took me a few second to reorientate myself, my eyes steadily adjusting to my dark room. My back still throbbed with the serve injury it was healing from.
The thudding continued, and began to get even louder; I realised it was coming from the hall. The door, someone was knocking on the door. I rolled out of bed, groaning with the effort, and made my way to the door frame. Peering out, I craned my neck to look down the hall towards the front door. The door was shuddering with every thud and a thin beam of light shone around the perimeter, the lights from the porch seeping through, making the door glow. As stepped into the hall and slowly approached it, a feeling of dread rose in the pit of my stomach.
A quick glance at the clock confirmed it was far too early for visitors, 3am, but still the thudding continued. An erratic noise, like there was either panic of anger behind those thuds. The feeling of dread rose higher to my chest, tightening it so my breathing quickened. I got closer to the door but stopped dead in my tracks when I realised the porch light wasn't on. The glowing around the door was coming from the frame, I strained my eyes to stare at the only light in the dark night. There were little glowing symbols shinning with a golden light, etched around the door frame. They glowed brighter again when the thudding got heavier; making the wooden door shudder and groan in response.
“Hello?” I said, the word coming out as a whisper, so quiet that whoever was on the other side of that door certainly would not have been able to hear it. The thudding stopped. I could hear someone take a deep rasping, gurgled breath through the door.
“Kairah” a voice spoke beyond the door. A horrible voice, deep and grating. It dragged out the two syllables of my name then drew another shuddering breath. I felt a shiver run up my spine, and the the hairs on my arms raise with goose bumps.
“Let me in Kairah, it's me, Michael. I have something important to tell you”
The voice changed this time, as it spoke Michael's name it was his familiar voice that travelled through the door. I still didn't move, the feeling of dread had made its way to my throat and I couldn't have formed a reply even if I had dared. I did not move, did not speak, barely even breathed. “Kairah…” it cooed in Michael's voice. It was not Michael, that much I could grasp, but the rest of my mind was a fog or unyielding terror and panic. “Kairah.” Is said again, this time more forcefully and accompanied by a jarring thump on my door. Still I didn't move, didn't think. “Kairah. Kairah. Kairah. Kairah” my door shuddered with the thumps whatever was on the other side sent through it, with each repetition of my name. “Let.” Thump. “Me.” Thump. “In.” Thump. The lights around the door flashed an even brighter gold glow before sputtering and going out. My eyes widened and upon the last thump of the door, the wood splintered in two revealing the owner of the voice on the other side.
It was Michael, but at the same time, not Michael. It was taller than Michael, too tall, and it grinned at me through the door, it's mouth too wide to be human. The smile revealed what looked like everyone of it's too white teeth and a large portion of it's dark red gums. Its eyes were black rather than the deep blue of Michaels eyes, and its skin was too pink all over, not just in the cheeks where it would look normal. It stretched its arm through the crack in the door to the handle and I noticed how long it was, disproportionally long, arms that would have reached too it's knees. My heart was racing in my chest, and my skin felt hot and clammy at the same time.
“Kairah” it cooed again, soft and gentle. As if it meant no harm. I ran. Turning to the kitchen, aiming to get to the side door, but before I could even take 3 steps I felt pain shoot through my scalp as it grabbed my hair with those too long arms. Its grip tightened and I let out a yelp and it pulled me back and dropped me to the floor. I glanced up from where I was sprawled on my back to see it smiling down at me with that horrifying mouth. It released its grip in my hair to reach for me but I jumped to my feet. Darting as fast as I could to reach the few steps that would take me to the door frame of the kitchen. As I reached the frame I felt a large, bony hand grab the back of my neck. It picked me as if I was a kitten being picked up by its scruff and barely seemed to notice my weight as it threw me, face first, against my kitchen cabinets.
I felt a horrible crunch in my nose when my face smacked into the cabinet doors and pain throbbed through my face and body. I slid to the floor, unable to catch myself after the impact, but I managed to grab the first thing I could feel for on the bench as I sank down. I sat on the floor for a few seconds, staring at what I had taken from the counter, a whisk. What was I meant to do with a whisk? I felt a sob rising in my throat as panic left me and hopelessness clawed its way into my mind. I was not a fighter, I had no weapons, and whatever this creature was, it was going to kill me. At that last thought I looked up in time to see that bony hand reaching for my neck again.
It grabbed me, lifting me up and constricting my throat so that I could barely breathe with its tight, sharp grasp. With one hand I clenched the whisk, while the other claw a the hand on my throat, digging my nails into what felt like paper thin skin. The creature simply looked at me with those empty eyes, still grinning gleefully as it slammed me against the wall in the space between the range hood and stove top. I kicked out with my legs trying to push its body away, but it used its other wide hand and unrelenting strength to hold them down.
“Kairah” It said, in that mock of Michaels voice and I realised its mouth did not move from that grin even as it spoke, “How delicious you look, if your father didn’t want you returned alive I would have loved to gobble you up” It licked its thin chapped lips with an impossibly long pointed tongue, and sent a wave of it’s hot foul smelling breath onto my face. I gagged at the breath, unable to get the taste of it off of my tongue, and unable to tear my eyes away from the horrific charade of Michaels face. Worry sparked through me; where was Michael, how did this thing look like him, and talk like him?
“Perhaps when your father is done with whatever he wants; he will leave you for me.” The creature continued, sounding almost gleeful at the thought, “I’ll suck the life from you slowly, savouring that delicious soul of yours. Then I’ll shave off all of that pretty hair and skin you. Carefully of course, not like that human I used tonight, there wont be any sloppy edges on your pretty face.”
Edges? Skin me? No. My eyes widened at the thoughts racing through my mind then darted to the perimeter of Michael’s face. Sure enough, there were edges. Jagged cuts of that, too pink, skin lifted up slightly at the side of his face and a faint bloody line poked through his hairline. Movement caught my eye and I focused on what was underneath that skin, something was wriggling there. Maggots, I realized and recoiled in disgust and horror. Michael was dead, and this monster has killed him, skinned him and used him as a sick disguise that didn’t even work. I let out a sob as tears escaped my eyes and, though I hadn’t thought it possible, the creature grinned wider.
I stared back at the thing, back into those soulless eyes and my hopelessness disappeared. I want it gone, I want it to hurt like it had hurt me, I want it dead like it had killed Michael. I still had the whisk in my hand, I realised, and without a second thought I lifted it and rammed the bottom half of the handle into the monster’s eye.
It let go of me, screaming while it reached up to pull the whisk from it’s eye. Thick blood dribbled from the wound and the skin of Michaels face sagged around the eyes. I scrambled to the side, ducking under the over head cabinets to slide along the counter and grab for the knife block. The thing moved too, it lashed out with the hand that wasn’t holding its eye, and rammed it down on my legs, trapping me, and causing me to yelp in pain at the impact.
“You little bitch” It snarled, deep and rasping, no longer using Michaels voice. I didn’t pause, it had trapped my legs but my finger tips were barely and inch away from that knife block. I fought, and struggled, doing anything I could to wiggle my way that little bit closer. It dug its fingers into my right leg and push down on me with that impossible strength. I screamed at the unbearable pressure; There was no way, no fucking way, that I was letting this disgusting thing take me. I heard the crack of my femur and all I could do was sob before I went still, limp, and quiet.
It took it’s hand off of my broken leg and lumbered its, too tall, body towards my head. “Good” It murmured, running a sharp bony finger along my cheek. It put its hands around my waist and lifted me, twisting me to slump me over its shoulder leaving one hand on my broken thigh while my head dangled by it’s back. I gritted my teeth at the pain that shot through my leg with the movement, then at the feeling of the cold sticky skin that touched my thigh. It began to walk towards the side door, the one I had been trying to escape too, taking me away from the knife block and back towards the stove. I tried to act quickly, reaching blindly for the lighter in the space it always hung, silently praying it hadn’t been knocked off in the fray. My fingers closed around it, and I didn’t give myself even a second to celebrate my small victory before I raised my arm towards the creature’s head and pulled the trigger on the stove lighter.
Michaels hair caught fire easily, I could feel the heat on my legs as it grew. It took the thing a few seconds to realise, even as the smell of burning flesh hit me, as if it couldn’t feel through the skin of my friend. When it finally noticed it let out a snarl before tearing at the flesh on its head. Ripping off small flaming chunks of skin and hair, as if to peel the fire away. When the flame kept spreading, and started to sizzle at those maggots wriggling beneath the skin it screeched and snarled again, pulling at the skin faster and gripping my thigh so tightly I thought I might vomit from the pain. It’s still wouldn’t let go of me, even as it thrashed and swayed, scrapping at it’s burning scalp. I gritted my teeth and shoved my hand back up to that flaming head. I pushed the long nozzle of the barbeque lighter into the festering maggots and pulled the trigger again.
It let go this time, wailing a screaming louder that when I’d rammed the whisk into it’s eye. I didn’t hesitate when I hit the ground, not even though the pain that shot up my leg from the fall had me feeling dizzy and sick. I hobbled my way, as fast as I could, towards those knives, and I pulled out the biggest damned one. When I whirled around I saw the flaming head of that beast charging towards me, it’s long arms flailing, it’s grin still present even as I could see flames behind those teeth. I rammed my knife at it as hard as I could as its hands began to wrap around me, straight into it’s throat. It did not scream this time, it simply gurgled once then slumped to the ground, it’s head still flaming.