The Dream: a Micropasta


The following story contains graphic descriptions. Reader discretion is advised. 

        In the loudest silence I've ever heard, there came a tapping noise. The tap of water? The tap of shoes?… I started jogging, hoping they didn't hear me or know that I was there…tap, tap, tap, tap, until it got closer, and closer… That's when I felt the cold hand on my shoulder…I screamed bloody murder. Then, as I ran away, I felt something grab my wrist. It was cold, slimy, and boney… Like shredded skin, straight to the bone. I froze at the thought. 
        “HELP, SOMEONE, PLEASE HELP!” I yelled so hard my lungs burned. A hand covered my mouth, it wasn't my hand… It had flesh drooping off, creating fleshy puddles on the ground, the skin was decaying, its face- I saw the bone, and the cracks, the blood, and the patches of flesh. Dead, he's dead..! 
        “You–you did this to me–YOU DID!!!” the dead man yelled out and tried to tear away at my face.

        I yelled the loudest I’d ever have, just to find myself in my bed, panting and covered in sweat. “It was just a bad dream..” I tell myself, “It can't hurt can't..” I haven't ever been able to sleep since then, but when I do it’s the same felt so real…like a nightmare come true. I paced my room thinking about it, the creature…I have blocked out all contact with the world, trying not to hurt anyone…it stayed on my mind, day and night. The fleshiness drooped and made taps every time it hit the ground. Tap, tap, tap, tap…I glanced behind me, like most people do when the feel watched or like something’s in the closet. I turned and shuffled around, looking for a pair of eyes, or a tap on my shoulder, or flesh piles on the floor. Nothing. It sent chills down my spine. My eyes felt heavy. I decided to try sleep one more time. I thought of happy things, an island, a cruise, and stuff that would please many.

Tap, tap, tap, tap, tapity, tap. It was back… I studied my surroundings, searching, I knew what would happen next. Nothing happened. The tap’s slowly faded out like they were being muffled. By what? I shrieked as I felt the cold, crusty, decaying hand. I felt it… I didn’t have much time to do anything, but as I glanced down there was less and less skin on it… It lifted me up in the air by the throat, as I was choking and struggling to get free of its grasp. It shoved me against the wall and ceiling, prying at my face. I could feel the slashes at my face, and its hand as it tried to grab my eyeballs out of my socket. I don’t know what’s scarier, the fact I felt pain, or the fact I couldn’t wake up…