The first thing I notice is my heart pounding, forcing me to jolt awake. My eyes rip open with swiftness, and I can see objects floating in my vision, my head throbbing from waking so fast.
I know it's here.
I stay still for what seems like an eternity. My ears are open to every little sound, every single movement. But I cannot hear anything over the pounding of my heart beat, it’s going to explode at any moment.
Nothing but silence. But I know it's in. Why else would I be awake?
I knew it would happen. The thing had been stalking me for over a week, testing my limits with whispering outside my window, pounding on my walls. And now, it's in. A thud. A confirmation. Now I know for sure. It's in the kitchen. My hands shake, sweat dripping from my arm. I slowly reach down. But what am I reaching for? Something metal. A knife. Ah, I remember now. It was for protection. I tell my body to get up, but I’m glued to the bed. My breathing is shallow, and louder than I want it to be.
A low shuffle. It's in the living room.
No more worries. That is what I've heard over the constant whispers. Over a week, I've developed a theory for the thing, but it is nonsense. I have called the cops multiple of time, but to no avail. No clues to who it is. So I know it’s not human. At least, not anymore. I finally convince my legs to move, though they feel like led. Every movement I make is loud, yelling to all that listen, my location. I hold the knife tightly in my hand, my knuckles are turning white. But it's a butter knife. Small and dull. At least it's something.
A creaking. It's in the hallway.
I shuffle to the closed door of my room. I reach for my handle, but my hand does not want to touch it, like it's made of fire. I don't want to face it. Adrenaline is pumping through my veins, but fear is coursing through my entire body. I'm shaking, and tears drip from my eyes, but I don't bother to wipe them away. Why should I? The shuffling noise is getting closer, it doesn't sound like a human walking. It sounds like dragging. My through feels like I ate cement. I can badly breathe. I don't want to open the door. Maybe I should lock it, maybe I can climb out the window and escape. No. This has to end. I've tried running, but it always finds me. It Will always, find me. At the worst of time, it comes to rid you of your worries. I need to end this. Without listening again for the shuffling of feet, I take a large gulp of air, and swing the door open. It slams into my wall, and I stare intensely into the dark hall.
But there is nothing. No sign of the creature that has tormented me for so long. I know better to relax, so I keep the small metal knife in my hand and check each door, each room, and each closet. I check through the windows of each room I enter, seeing if the thing is just luring me into a false sense of safety. But I find nothing. I realize I had held my breath through the whole search, and blow air through my nose and out my mouth. I'm shaking uncontrollably, and start to laugh out of pure relief. Maybe it gave up? I head to the kitchen to get myself a drink, god knows I need it. I walk through the door frame, and a realization dread hits me in the chest, and slides down to the pit of my stomach.
I didn't check the kitchen.
I see it standing, in front of the broken window from which it entered from. The first thing I notice, is, once, long, long ago, this thing was human. The body was that of a young woman, perhaps. But that was long, long ago. Now the thing holds a disgusting, horrible frame, the skin held on tightly to the brittle bones. The arms and legs look like they had been dislocated plenty of times, in some cases, the thing never bothered to be put the back in place. The clothing hung from its body frame, a dark, old, worn out purple tank top and long dark blue shorts that came to the creatures’ knees. Its face was long and slender, and its head rolled over side to side on its thin neck, making a sickly crack sound that made me taste that morning's breakfast.
But the most noticeable feature, was the bandages. Long, worn in white cloth bandages covered the creature entirely. All over its' arms, legs, chest, even parts of its face and head.
We stood in our places, staring at each other, my eyes wide I'm fear, it's eyes inhumanly large, like doll eyes. After what seemed like an eternity, the creature, Bandages, if you will, began to move towards me. It walked in a painful looking manner, knees bent to face each other, and staggering to hold its place. I wanted to move, run, scream, shield my face, something! But, its eyes held me there. I don't know why, but, my body refuse to move. The mouth of the thing twisted in a grin. I wasn't a sick, demotic grin you see on monsters in movies. No, it was more of a....pleased smile. The one a child would hold, when showing their parent something they have created.
It is so close to me now. So close. I can see the dark, maroon blood stains on its clothing and bandages. It doesn't smell like a person, or animal. It smells, like, clothe. Maybe, some sort of fabric. Old fabric.
A whole week, it's been watching me. Learning about me. I didn't know why, back then, but I do now.
I know this is the end, so I will say this now; the creature, isn't human. It has long evolved past the need to eat human food, to sleep, to live. It feeds, but not on what we think. The creature has created a delusion of being a deity, to the point where it actually believes its own lies. But it is far, far from anything holy. During the worst of times, when you're anxious, when you're fearful, when you're worried, It senses it. And it comes. To take your worries away. .... Worry doll: noun Example: Jonny bought a worry doll for his little sister. Definition: Worry Dolls, or trouble dolls, are very small and colorful dolls for a person (usually a child) who cannot sleep due to worrying can express their worries to a doll and place it under their pillow before going to sleep. Legends says, that, during the night, the doll would come to life, and take the person's worries away. In any way possible.....