Hungry?

Here's a great little short story perfect for the Halloween season.
I wrote this a while back and although it's a throwback Thursday pick, it's still timeless in its horror.
Hope you enjoy it, Creepsters. 💀


Breakfast - Nightmare #117
I awoke, not knowing the hour.
All I could smell was bacon.

I sensed something too ~ the fact that I wasn't alone.
I bolted upright in bed; my heart racing; my nerves uneasy.
Struggling with my surroundings in the prominent darkness, my mind ached as it came out of some sort of dream that had dissolved with my sudden movement.
I tried to focus, unsure where I was and unable to determine anything familiar in the room.
And although I couldn't fully envision anything for certain, my other senses were working perfectly.

I could hear something breathing.

It was a low, interrupted wheezing sound, like that of an elderly man with emphysema.

I dared not speak.  Figured the sound was just in my head - a leftover morsel of a bad dream.
But I heard the breathing again.
It sounded closer this time.
My mind raced with ideas and scenarios and questions and ways to escape.
I doubted that I could make it to the light switch; questioned if I could even find it.
I decided to sink down, slowly, with the least possible movement or noise.
I slipped back under the blankets, using them as a sort of protective shield.

If I'm covered up, nothing can possibly get in.  
Right?!
Oh, the false teachings we're given as children.

I pulled the warm covers over top my head, allowing only the slightest slit for my nose.
I tried to calm my breathing; thought happy thoughts of vacation and lovers; told myself this was all just an overactive imagination; a late-night snack fighting me back.

I listened intently, the silence cutting through my ears like a locomotive's horn.
Nothing.
I no longer heard the wheezing.

Definitely just my mind playing tricks on me.

And then, I heard a tussle of my blankets.
I felt the warmth of a breath on my face.

No.  
No. 
No.

It's breath smelled, at first, like bacon sizzling in a frying pan on a Sunday morning.
Then, it turned.  It turned sour and bitter, like milk left on the counter overnight.  I tried not to vomit.  Tried desperately not to breath it in; not to acknowledge it at all.

Don't open your eyes.  
Do not open your eyes. 

I squeezed them tighter.  Clenched my jaw and prayed silently, hoping God really could hear my thoughts.

A horrific scream stung my ears.  A wail so loud, it was like a knife jabbing me in the chest. I caught my breath.  My eyes could only react and they jolted open.

I couldn't take it back.  It had seen me.  Worse yet, It had seen me seeing It.

And I knew at that very moment I was going to die.  Maybe worse than that, suffer and then die.
I knew it just as sure as you know a cop's siren is meant for you and not the guy in front of you.  I knew it like you know you're going to puke ~ that awful churning feeling, coupled with a rancid taste and a dizzy head.  And I did.  I threw up.  I threw up all over this thing.

This thing could only be described as a creature; some sort of specimen that those cryptozoologists would love to have in their labs.  It was all twisted and taut, it's body resembling a tree more so than a human or animal.  It's eyes were red and glossy with a milky substance that oozed from its corners.
My God did it stink ~ a terrible smell that emulated the laundry room of a hospital.
It had no mouth, and for a moment I was relieved knowing I wouldn't be it's next meal.  But then its neck opened up.

Yep, it's goddamn neck opened up like the trunk of a car.  It let go another scream, just as horrendous as the first one.  It's neck vibrated, releasing a spray of what could only be described as motor oil.

I screamed back.  Just as loud and just as long.

The creature stopped.
It stood up, revealing to me its enormous size.
Tilting its head, and towering by, at least 12 feet, it studied me for a moment.
Then, it leaned in.  We were face to mangled face.

I covered my mouth with my hands forcing the scream to a muffle.
I started to cry.
Again, the creature opened its neck and spat the oil at me.
I closed my eyes from the sting.  Suddenly, I felt tired.
Very, very tired...

I awoke, not knowing the hour.
All I could smell was bacon.
                     
         ~Deevious~