Kathleen Hazel Reardon24/08/07
Fear
My burst of energy had ended. I was getting frantic. I had been down this path before and still no luck. Everything was beginning to look different with the setting of the sun.
Now, I was lost, cold and absolutely starving. My rumbling stomach sounded deafening, fighting to be heard over the pounding of my heart. It disturbed the quiet of the forest. The trees closed in on me as dusk gave way to night. The loss of the sun prompted a chill breeze that the thin T-shirt I was wearing offered no protection against. I stumbled on in my confusion; my eyes were not accustomed to the complete all-encompassing darkness. The black of night in wilderness is nothing like night in a city, or a town. I missed civilisation. A few stray rays of moonlight managed to break through, illuminating stray objects. Most were merely plants that the wind rustled, but I couldn't see enough to confirm my rather practical hypothesis.
The once quiet forest seemed to come alive with the disappearance of the sun. Deprived of my sight, my other senses came alive: touch, taste but mainly smell, and hearing sharpened. These had been long forgotten, left unused in the modern world. The thrum of silence was deafening. The primeval fear of the dark gnawed at the very edge of my soul.
But fight it, I must. I would.
I stopped dead in my tracks, my ears strained to interpret the sounds that rippled though the woods: the last resonant echoes dying in the wind. Around me the woods reacted, preparing itself with age-old defences. The birds scattered from the treetops seeking safety as far from this place as possible. The woodland floor became alive with scurrying creatures of various shapes and sizes as they burrowed into their shelters.
Fear was a palpable force. You could smell it, taste it, feel it hanging in the air. It spilled out in one singular sound, the scream. This all happened in the blink of an eye as the brain struggled to process the information from the senses. Fight or Flight?
The oldest reflex, from before man, before evolution took hold and gave us thought. Rational thought ceased as again 'it' became louder, like the very bowels of hell have opened, reached out and given birth to it. Loud, high-pitch laughter pierced my soul.
It was there, ever present. It surrounded me, coming from all sides. Evil had a touch, a feel. It was an encompassing cold, filled with pain, endured and endless, yet more to come. It pricked my exposed flesh, sending thorns deep into my soul. I quickened my pace, faster and faster I go. I stumbled on branches, twigs and leaves. They hindered my progress, snagging, clawing at my bare arms. Someone, something, the unknown was crashing towards me. I ran, I ran. It chased. I felt the earth quake, being rocked with the force of this thing's power and presence. The embodiment of evil lumbered towards me with purposeful harm and deadly intentions. Its sole reason for existing was to steal my life from me. I knew what was hunting me even if I hadn't seen it.
I stumbled and fell hard. I gasped raggedly, each breath seared my lungs, my blood pounded in my ears. Paralysing fear stole through me as it approached. My power over my arms and legs drained into the ground, it fell away from me. The full alien moon shone from behind a cloud. It illuminated the forest clearing, casting an eerie glow.
The Wraiths were there, on the edge of the clearing. More than one. It wasn't cold enough for the air to manifest puffs of breath, but nonetheless I could see them. Leaving its putrid mouth in waves. Not condensation. The staggering smell reached me; it was the foulest odour I had ever smelled. It ripped the breath from my lungs. The Wraith approached me, promising the end. I tried to scream but my lungs ceased to function. I was immobilised by fear as it reached in and froze my soul.
The pain awakened the memory. I knew what this was. I forced my body to relax as I struggled to breathe. I could breathe. I would breathe. Forcing the paralysing pain away, my eyes sprung open and I sucked air into my lungs. The coldness dissipated, replaced by the warmth of my bed. I relaxed and breathed. I relished the deep gulps of air. Rational thought returned. Sleep Paralysis, a hypnogogic state, scientific fact.
As my breathing rate and pulse rate returned to normal, I reached over and turned my light on. I regretted it immediately, wincing as the light hit my eyes. I looked down at my lover who was sleeping soundly beside me. After a moment, I turned off the light. I didn't want to wake him and I snuggled close to him. It was only a dream as it was only the dark. It couldn't hurt me.
Could it?