A/N: Yes I know I haven't uploaded anything in forever, and this is EXTREMELY short, but this is just something I decided I wanted to write. I've been busy with a lot of stuff on my mind so writing hasn't come as easily as it usually does. And then the longer I don't write the harder writing becomes and it's just a mess of stuff.
Anyway I hope you guys like this little sample of what's the come. I'm trying to get better at writing horror since honestly... I really want to do this work justice.
Arkham's Final Horror
Chapter 4
They dimmed the lights.
The guards didn't think he would notice, but he had. Perhaps they hadn't even noticed… but he had.
He had noticed the moment they dimmed.
The second it happened, the lights had faltered. They flickered once and then shown dimmer than before. He knew, because the shadows were darker now. Now they could hide things. No longer did they merely drain the color out of stripes on the floors and walls… they hid things. He could see them. The Joker could see the things that hid themselves in the shadows. Squiggling, squirming, writhing in the darkness.
The guard might not have known this, but behind him –inside his shadow –something was trying to strangle him. Something taunting him for his ignorance, laughing at his inability to save himself from the shadows that were oh so slowly creeping up his spine and wrapping around his neck.
He simply watched as the shadows slithered down his throat.
One morning the guard stopped coming.
And no one had come to replace him.
How many of them had the shadows already swallowed?
How many toys did he have left?
What sort of game was going to start within the old stone walls?
After being stuck in the time out box for eight years… the Joker would make sure they were fun ones. Fun games to make up for all the dreams of blood and murder they had kept him from.
The world had lacked his expertise for almost a decade. A debut was in order.