They Come Every Night
WARNING- this one is fairly... graphic. I wrote it as a way to scare my friends.
Things to know:
-Lily is an OC that will never return. She was Sam's friend back when they were young.
-That is all.
Sam's silk pyjamas swished against each other with every move. With a glass of warm milk in hand, already she could feel its calming effects working wonders on her. As she opened her bedroom door, a yawn stretched her mouth wide. She paused, then continued on.
The bed was a welcome relief. Sam was exhausted, tired beyond what she had thought possible. After hours and hours of being forced to shop with her mother, she deserved a rest.
With a groan, she fell into the cool sheets, placing her mug onto the bedside table. She watched the steam curl from its surface, making its way to the high ceiling. It never made it there, instead disappearing just inches above the milk. The slow, lazy patterns it created were mesmerising, absolutely captivating to watch.
The room grew dimmer, darker, as Sam's eyes drifted shut. Thoughts of steam rising off of her milk turned to dreams of fires. Of people running for their lives from the merciless flames.
Sam smiled.
DPDPDPDP
It was the fire that woke her. She could hear its quiet crackling through her dreams, piercing her mind with one thought:
Run.
Sam sat up straight in her bed, blanket falling away over the sides in her panic. The flames flickered, but then grew thin.
She was left looking at nothing more than the three blood red candles she kept burning through the night.
But the sounds were still there. Harsh whispers, quiet and hushed, muffled to her ears. Someone was there. Someone was lurking beneath her bed, hiding in her cupboards, floating outside her window. They were waiting, she knew, waiting for her to leap out of bed. They wanted her to fly down the hallway, screaming and terrified. They wanted to chase her, knocking pictures off of walls, breaking glass, and shattering precious family heirlooms. They wanted her to be more than scared. They wanted her to be petrified.
Sam lay back down, too afraid to pull up the blankets and cover herself from their predatory gaze.
"There's nothing there," she muttered, closing her eyes. The whispers died down, as if by a certain demand. "There's nothing there."
There was silence. Sam shivered, not quite daring to reach down and grasp the blankets. As with most- if not all- fictional monsters, this one lived beneath her bed.
"Sam," came the whisper. It was quiet, but it managed to freeze her in place. That wasn't from under her bed, it was…
"Sam," it called, sounding as if it came from a long distance. "Why won't you play with me, Sam? Sam?"
"No," the living girl breathed as the apparition shimmered into existence.
It floated at the far end of her room, a few inches above the ground. The candle flames were still visible through the limp silver dress she wore.
"You promised me, Sam," the little girl pouted. Her blonde hair danced around her in an imaginary wind, but this was no figment of the imagination. This was real. "You promised that you would come and play."
"B-but that w-was before you-"
"Died?" the girl floated closer. "And why would that make a difference?"
Sam didn't reply. Tears were flowing freely down her pale face, leaving damning marks on her skin.
Rolling her luminous gold eyes, the ghost spun around and drifted back to the candles.
Sam's breath caught in her throat, guilt overwhelming her. The girl's back was a crimson mess, the blood as red and wet as the second it had been spilt.
"You said you would meet me there," the girl said, sounding distracted. She passed her transparent hands through the flames, watching as they danced. "At the park," her neck twisted, body remaining stationary. Those golden eyes, which should be filled with innocence, were now filled with anger and pain. "But you didn't come, did you, Sam? Not until it was too late."
"No!" Sam cried, crawling backwards until she hit the wall. "I told you! I couldn't come that night, Lily!"
"They came, though," Lily hissed. "The men with guns."
Sam sobbed and covered her face with her hands. "Stop it… p-please…"
"They come every night, Sam," the ghost wept, all anger gone. "They hunt me… Sam, please don't leave me alone again."
Sam sniffled, then looked up. Lily was seated at the foot of her bed. The young seven-year-old's expression was lost.
"Can you help me?"
Sam stammered uselessly, unable to form thoughts, let alone words.
"Sam, please!" Lily sobbed. "Sam…"
Her small hands reached up to her pretty face, clawing at her cheeks. Her nails left red marks behind them.
"They come every night…"
One nail punctured her skin, digging in deep.
"Sam…"
She dragged it down, leaving a large wound it its place. Blood flowed from it, dripping down her face and spattering onto the pristine blankets.
"They hunt me…"
The remaining nine fingers also cut into her cheeks. Wasting no time, Lily stared right into Sam's eyes and tugged downwards. The bottom half of her face was a shredded mess. Tears ran through the raw crevices as she whispered the final words.
"Sam…
"Please don't leave me alone again."
Then, just as suddenly as she had come, Lily disappeared.
Sam stared at the end of her bed. The blood had gone, but it still felt dirty, contaminated. He breath was coming in heaving gasps, shaking from the force of the tears that were causing her throat to shrink.
Finally, the room started to heat up. Sam hadn't even noticed how cold it had been, but now that the warmth was back, she found herself feeling slightly more relaxed. Maybe there was a chance that she might be able to sleep again, though it was unlikely.
With a trembling hand, Sam reached for the sheets that she had abandoned earlier. Her mug of milk sat on the bedside table, untouched. Though now the contents were cold and unappealing.
Feeling as if something warm to drink might help even more, Sam swung her legs down to touch the floor. As soon as her toes met the carpet, the candles were extinguished.
Now in darkness, Sam's fear returned, almost as strong as before. There was a loud clatter, then a sickening slapping sound.
The lights turned on, illuminating the far corner of the room. Three blood red candles were rolling on the ground, wax spilt all over the carpet. But that wasn't what Sam's terrified eyes were fixed on.
A bloody handprint marred the clean surface of the wall, dripping slightly.
It's just the candle wax, Sam tried to convince herself. She's not here anymore.
But it was no use.
She started to scream.
AN:
Hey! pale-blue11 here!
My friends challenged me. We all had to write a story, and the creepiest one won. You can tell me what you think happened :)
I chose the name 'Lily' because of that episode Life Lessons, when Sam named the flour sack Lilith. I don't know, really :/
I've actually got a similar version of this story on my computer somewhere, and I'm thinking about putting that up too...
Thank you for all the reviews! And I didn't know you had a profile Ghostfudge160 :O I'll check it out! (But not too soon- my ipod's not letting me onto FanFiction and now I have to use the laptop -_-)
Thanks for reading, guys! I'll probably be putting stuff like this one up quite a lot. My friends are planning a new competition soon! :D
Have a nice day!
pale-blue11
