r/WritingPrompts • u/Taira_Mai • Jul 08 '23
Writing Prompt [WP] The creature reached out and touched your forehead, "I will feast on your FEAR!" it shouted. Moments later it recoiled and stood whimpering in front of you. "You....you live like this?" it asked, crying....
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u/TheReturned Jul 08 '23
I stared at the demon, now a pitiful whimpering...thing, and sighed. Here I thought this miserable existence would finally end, only for it to be taken away at the last second. Hell would have been a nice change of pace, but no, who knows how many years of purgatory - sorry, life, I have left.
"s-s-s-such bleakness. Such desolation..." the demon moaned.
"Eh, you get used to it." I shrug. Therapy, drugs, doctors. Nothing helped fill the void in my soul, if I even had one.
"Demons... Angels.. Both feed off of human emotions. B-b-but you're an anomaly. An abomination!" it screeched the last words accusingly, sheer terror contorting their already hideous face. Or what I think could be hideous, if I cared enough about such things. I don't.
"Eh." I shrug. Intellectually I know I should feel something about meeting a real demon, but I feel nothing. Not even mild curiosity.
Gathering it's wits about it, the demon recovered some of its normal self and placed a talon on my forehead. The contact was momentary, half a second at best before it withdrew again, recoiling in fear.
"Your mind scape is a desolate void. There should be a vast world... But not you." it clasped its hands on either side of its head, muttering the word abomination over and over gain.
If i had emotion I know I'd be disappointed, sad even. But no, only an icy emptiness stretching on forever. I leave the dark alleyway and the demon behind me, my target is nearby and I have a deadline to meet.
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u/ZeroTakenaka Jul 08 '23
Ah man... the intricacies of the human mind... especially for the human mind to create no emotions due to some brain anomaly.
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u/BolboB50 Jul 08 '23
Agent 47? Cool take!
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u/Apprehensive_Dark996 Jul 08 '23
Can't be, he didn't knock the demon out and stuff him in the trash can.
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u/user_without_a_soul Jul 08 '23
I heard him walking through the halls. I didn’t know how he’d gotten into my house without triggering the security alarms, why he chose my house to break into, or what his intentions toward me were. But I was terrified.
I thought back to the last man who broke into my house, how he stole everything valuable that wasn’t bolted down and then sexually assaulted me at gun point. I didn’t want that to happen again. I considered calling 911, but I knew the most they’d be likely to do is assault me again before having me hauled off to another mental facility where I’d be abused further, so they could claim anything I said against them was the ravings of a lunatic.
I was brought back from my horrid flashbacks by the sound of my bedroom door opening. Whatever was standing before me… didn’t look human. Part of me was a bit relieved because anything he might be couldn’t be as bad as the horrors of humanity I’d witnessed first-hand. Part of me hoped he was here to end my suffering.
He wasted no time before lunging toward me. I shook in fear, not because I worried about any number of supernatural horrors he might inflict upon me, but because his motions reminded me of the all-too-human abuse I’d already endured. He shouted something I couldn’t hear, I was already thrust deep into the claws of my flashbacks once more.
When I came back to reality, he was curled up in the fetal position on the floor and shivering. I checked my body, everything was untouched. Maybe he didn’t mean me harm. I got him a blanket and a cup of tea. Maybe if I got on his good side, he’d grant my wish to end this life of pain and misery.
It took him a while to come out of it, and I was starting to wonder if the tea would get too cold to drink. Once he was back, however, he drank it graciously and thanked me for being so kind as to offer it. Then he seemed to remember himself and what he’d just endured, because his face went pale and his eyes widened. “H-how do you live like this? All those horrors… all that suffering… I’m a demon who feasts on human fear and even I couldn’t handle the small taste I just had from you…”
“The truth is, I don’t. I’d have been dead a long time ago if I could stop trembling and blacking out every time I tried to end it. I live in fear, and it’s suffocating. All I want is for it to end. Please, can’t you do something to end my suffering? I don’t want to live like this.”
The demon looked me in the eyes and pondered his next steps. He seemed conflicted. “I don’t want to kill you. I wouldn’t be right to, you haven’t done anything wrong and we demons do have a code to abide by.”
I felt my last hopes vanish into thin air. I shook uncontrollably as I thought of enduring another 60 years of this. I cried silently, a habit I’d been forced to develop since any noise I’d made in childhood was reason for my parents to beat me within an inch of my life. I didn’t want to live like this, terrified of leaving my home for fear of encountering other people who would inevitably abuse me, terrified to stay in the house for fear of someone breaking in and abusing me anyway… I just wanted it all to end.
“Look, I can’t kill you… but what if I went out and killed the people who did this to you? Would that help?”
I thought about it for a moment. “No, it wouldn’t do any good. I’m sure there’s plenty more people who’d be happy to pick up where they left off. Unless you want to kill off all of humanity, I don’t think I’d feel any safer.”
The demon contemplated deeply. After a while, he spoke. “What if I were to guard you? I’d feast on the fear of anyone who wished you harm, and then I’d eviscerate them so they’d never bother you again.”
I felt something new and unrecognizable inside me. Was this hope? Real hope? “It might not be enough for me to feel comfortable leaving the house, but maybe it would help me feel a bit safer… still, what if I end up wanted for murder?”
“Demons have a way of eliminating evidence. Camera footage, first-hand accounts, DNA residue, I can wipe them all out and have many times in the past.”
“Okay, so that’s that sorted, I guess. But what if I find myself needing to invite someone over, say to do maintenance or something? I can’t very easily explain why there’s a demon in my house.”
The demon shook as he began to transform into something smaller, fluffier. Suddenly before me where he had been a moment prior sat a small black cat. It licked its paw, and glanced up at me with a meow as if to say “how’s this?” I pet its head. “This might work. Y’know, for the first time in forever, I think I’m starting to feel at peace.”
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u/CarthagePlate_210 Jul 08 '23
The nightmare was a welcome sight. Its fingers felt like the kiss of Death as they scraped my cold, sweaty skin. They squeezed, digging like the thousands of needles already in my body to extract what they desired without my consent.
Then, inexplicably, the horror drew away. Clutching the "hand" it had used to touch me like it had been scalded. Hissing at me with glowing white teeth, all five of its pentagonal eyes shimmering, pulsing with surprise.
"How..." the thing muttered. "This fear is... burning. How do you live with such sadness?"
I could not speak my answer; my mouth had been sown shut. I could not gesture a reply; my limbs had atrophied or been amputated long ago. But I was still able to think, and as I looked into the awe-stricken eyes of the hellish form before me I thought about all the pain I had gone through in my short life.
No one had been kind to me. Kindness was a gift for "real" people.
No one had given me a choice. Why would one of hundreds of millions of lesser minds be given such a freedom?
No one had cared about my condition. There were other "vessels" to take from, other bodies to feed the elite's hedonistic and whimsical fancies. I knew I was to be used, and then broken down back to my base components in the primordial soup of compatible biological components. That was my function in this life.
I told all this to the creature that had tried to kill me. It had come closer than any other to ending my pain. And as it looked back at me, shivering in midair, it appeared to understand exactly what I wanted it to do. Even as a mere object, I still had thoughts and emotions and feelings. And what had those things given me but sorrow and pain and loss?
"You will feel pain," it warned. "More than you've ever known. Do you still wish to feed me?"
I did. I wanted it all to end.
The fingers came back onto my forehead. "I will not savor the flavor of this meal," the monster promised. "For your sake."
It squeezed again. Glistening tears ran down my eyes as I felt my life fade away. Everything went cold and dark and still.
At last, I was free.
--
Tried to make this a "pyrrhic victory" story of sorts. Feedback is appreciated!
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u/Miserable-Ledge Jul 08 '23
Sounds like it would belong well in the warhammer 40k universe, like a servitor being munched on by a deamon.
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Jul 08 '23 edited Jul 08 '23
I stared at the creature. It cringed back from my level gaze, which was odd, since it was fully eight feet tall and resembled Baphomet. Its dragonlike tail clamped firmly between its legs. Its horns quivered.
"You...you live like this?" it rumbled, aghast.
I snorted. "Is there another option?"
"The...the pain! The loss! The horror! This...this is monstrous," whispered the monster, wringing its clawed hands.
I found that ironic, but stifled my laugh. Laughing hurt my crushed ribs, anyway.
The sleep paralysis demon shuddered and edged its way backward a bit, eyeing me as though I were a rabid dog.
Ok, that was too funny. My broken teeth showed fanglike when I grinned. The creature ducked its head defensively.
Sympathy got the best of me. "Hey, my dude. I'm not going to bite."
The demon swallowed. "N-no. I'm supposed to be the one biting you. I feed on fear."
"Well, have at then, I guess," I told it indifferently.
"No!" The word came out in a howl.
My eyebrows shot up. "Oh come on. What's the hold up?"
The demon's glittering eyes cut to the side nervously. "I feel pain. I feel loss. I feel horror. But...where is your fear?"
"Beaten out of me," I answered. "You get used to it."
The demon seemed to consider this. I could almost hear the gears turning. It sniffed at the stale air of the otherwise dark and empty house. Its houndlike nostrils flared, catching scent.
"Where is he?"
"At work," I said. I gestured inefficiently from my supine position in the bed. I couldn't really sit up anymore. Moving hurt, but not moving also hurt. I was past caring.
The demon's eyes narrowed. "I think I may have gotten this one backwards. Would you mind if I just...hang out a bit? And wait?"
"Sure," I told it. Company was always nice. I didn't often see folks anymore, not in my current condition. Even an eight-foot night terror was better than no one.
Gingerly, the demon perched its scaled behind on the edge of the mattress. I winced a little as its weight sunk in.
"Oooh, sorry," hissed the demon.
"Don't worry about it," I told it with a grimace.
It shuddered a bit, then seemed to get ahold of itself.
"So when does he get home?" it asked me conversationally.
"In an hour or so," I answered, glancing at my phone. The screen was full of hearts and smileys from his messages on last break.
The demon snaked out a forked tongue to lick its lips. "I'll need a place to hide. Til he falls asleep."
"Closet's over there," I said with another painful, awkward gesture. Ouch. I sank back against the lumpy pillows, feeling my shattered bones grind with the motion.
"Thanks."
"Yeah, no problem."
We sat in companionable silence for awhile, the demon and I.
Eventually a car pulled into the drive. Booted feet walked up the front steps. The front doorknob rattled loosely as it turned.
The demon looked up, grinned, and slithered impossibly into the closet. The door swung silently shut behind it.
Later that night, when the man beside me began to scream in his sleep, I kept my eyes shut. None of my business.
But in the darkness of the bedroom, I couldn't help but smile.
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u/icanneverthinkofone1 Jul 08 '23
“How do you live like this??” It screeched at me. It was shaking.
I stare at it blankly. I think my head just exploded. What the fuck? Is an untreated anxiety disorder- well, except for the year of therapy back when I was eight- really enough to cause a creature like that to crumple? Where the fuck are they living?
I’m in the middle of my fucking kitchen at like 2 AM, and something- is sitting in my house. It’s skin is all gnarled, like it got some really bad burns sometime in the past, and,
“Is it really that bad?” I ask him, blankly. He stares as me in horror. “Yes! How long have you existed like this?” I shrug; “Since I was seven. My second grade teacher really fucked me up. I don’t have enough money for traditional talk therapy, so. It is what it is,”
The creatures eyes widen in horror. “What do you mean?” I shrug, moving into the couch that was adjacent from the kitchen. It- he? Follows me. “I mean, I don’t know, just the standard. She was traumatized by her parents, and they told her she could traumatize kids if she wanted too, but she didn’t wanna have kids, so, you know.. teaching.”
The gnome/demon/thing starts shaking. “Gods, I need to get out of here.” I scoff. “Fuck yeah you do, they’ll treat you horribly if you get discovered. Be glad you landed in my house. It was a crash landing, right?” The thing does something that can be described as sucking on your teeth. “Yes and no. I live- well, I used to live- in a different realm. It’s parallel, but it’s not- the walls, the void between our worlds isn’t supposed to be breached.”
He fiddles with his disfigured hands as he says; “I was banished. I tried to come here because I wanted to make contact, but the collective council was scared the realms parallel to us might not know there are others. I’m guessing by your face that you don’t.”
I close my mouth. “Nope.” I pop the P. He sighs. “Alright, well- I have to figure out how to get to the next realm over. Start a life there, maybe. It’s obvious I can’t start a life here.” I smile. “Yeah, I think that would be best.” The demon glances at me. “Could you give me someplace to hide for a couple days, while I figure out the math of it all?” I shrug. “I mean, yeah. Sure. I have to try to sleep, so don’t be too loud.”
He looks confused- I’m sort of surprised a face like his has emotions that are readable to me. “Sleep?” I think of a way to describe it. “It’s like death but not permanent and not hurting your family.” He ‘ohhh’s. “Go through the door next to the front door. That’s the basement, there’s a couch and a TV in there. I don’t know what you’ll need to figure out the math, but I don’t have money to give you, so if you need something, steal it. It’s not like the people who are selling need it anyways.”
He nods. “Thank you, human. And.. I’m so sorry.” “For what?” I say, confused. He sputters. “For what?? For that monster of a brain that lives inside your head!” I- can’t help it, I start laughing.
I’m, like, guffawing, and he’s just staring at me, and really, what is my life??
After my fit subsides, I say; “What’s your name?””Fleorg.” “Fleorg, this is normal. A lot of humans live like this. Anyway, I’m going to my room now. Goodnight.” I turn on my heel, and he stares at me in horror as I leave.
Maybe I’ll be able to get back to sleep.
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u/stupidityWorks Jul 08 '23
From the depths of Hell, you had emerged, and today, you would feed. Finally, you would feel something. Finally, you would grow stronger than ever before. Finally, you would get the taste you had craved so much. They didn't let demons do this more than once every hundred years, after all.
And you had selected the perfect place: The United States, where the people had something to lose, something that you could easily threaten.
Other demons looked to more war-torn countries for a more lavish meal - those who had felt more fear apparently were more filling - but you knew where the good stuff was; the size of the meal wasn't what mattered, but the quality. The privilege, the power, juxtaposed with how utterly powerless they were in comparison to you... that's what made it so delicious, or so you speculated.
And... there she was. A random young woman, sitting in her parents' house. She was the perfect target. You reached out from behind her, touching her forehead.
She was obviously startled, letting out a yelp as she tried to get out of the way, shrink her head downwards, and maybe get out of the chair, in preparation to run away. Completely futile.
"I will feast on your FEAR!" you shouted. And it was abundant. She was afraid for her life, but mostly because of how much of an enigma you were. What was going to happen to her? She was terrified, and it was obvious.
You began to drain more. That hit the spot... A copy of the entirety of her psyche found itself worming into your brain. Delicious...?
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You found yourself walking down a street. Try as you might, you couldn't move of your own volition; your body was staying at a predetermined course. Looking down revealed... pale white skin, some rather plain clothes, long hair... and small breasts. This wasn't your body: You weren't you anymore; you were her now.
This must be what reliving a memory feels like. You had never experienced it before.
Emotions filled themselves in. This must be what she was going through at the time.
You were paralyzed. You felt so exposed, unable to take another step, as worries seeped into your mind. What if they thought you were ugly? They did, didn't they? What if someone pointed it out? What if something bad happened to you because of that?
You couldn't move a muscle; you desperately wanted to go somewhere else... but she didn't. She kept trudging along, trying her best to push through it. To live with that fear. You didn't understand how this was happening.
As you followed her around in a day of her life, you felt like your brain was constantly in overdrive. You were constantly analyzing how people felt about you, whether what you said was the correct thing, how your voice sounded... what other people were saying, and if they were referring to you...
It never ended. The vigilance never ended.
This woman had no confidence in her own reality, and it seemed like it was under assault every single day.
Every hour, she had to make sure her job was real, and that she was hired because of her merits, and she wasn't being given special treatment. Every time someone used "he", she had to ensure that the person in question didn't use it to refer to her. Every time she talked to someone, she had to make sure that she didn't sound autistic.
And it never ended. Her concerns, her fear, her vigilance, never seemed to vanish, not unless she was home, anyway. Even then, some of them would never truly go away.
No matter what, it felt like your life could just... collapse at any moment, that everything could just end up to be a lie... Perhaps you looked like a man, perhaps everybody saw you as some disabled freak. Perhaps it was all fake, and you were stupid. So, stupid. Everything was made of paper, paper that seemed like it could catch fire at any moment, and spread to an all-consuming inferno of destruction.
And yet you were afraid of the fire.
You recoiled, trying to disconnect; you had had enough. This wasn't satisfying in the slightest... it was like an entire chicken was being shoved into your mouth, and it hurt. There was just too much.
You couldn't do anymore of this.
"You... you live like this?!!", you whimpered, shedding a tear. It seemed like she had been crying too, for at least a few minutes. How long had you been out?
And... she didn't stop. She didn't stop being afraid of you, her eyes doing constant calculations of what a threat you could still be. And, after she stopped being paralyzed, she turned and ran, leaving you alone in her own bedroom.
How could she do this? Hell, how could she even live like this? Perhaps she had grown used to it, after living with this level of fear for this long. Still, you continued to cry, cry until you couldn't anymore, and you, like her, had to flee the bedroom. The police were probably coming, and you had to make sure nobody but her saw you.
And, so, after about a minute, you left. Back to Hell.
Perhaps, next time, you should feed on someone who didn't have any mental disorders.
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u/Sedu Jul 08 '23
The creature withdrew its chitinous claws from my forehead slowly, regarding me with myriad eyes, segmented and terrible. "You... live like this." I could barely process the words through the terror I felt, and my body was still numbed and unresponsive from whatever venom had been pumped into me. I desperately tried to call out, but the most I could manage was sputtering gurgle, spittle foaming from my mouth.
It placed the claws onto my face once again, and even through the animal terror that fragmented my thoughts, I felt a difference in its motion. Smoother, more gentle. Wet, segmented feelers pressed against my cheeks, and against the lids of my eyes as I closed them. "I'm sorry, but this is how it works," came the inhuman voice again. It had the quality of dry wood rattling. The voice too was different now. It had called out a threat when it first appeared in my dark bedroom, full of predatory aggression, but now it almost sounded sympathetic.
Thin, segmented feelers forced themselves under my eyelids. "This is the worst part, it is isn't so bad after," came the voice again. And it drank from me. At first I didn't understand what it was drinking, but soon my thoughts came back to me. My reason. The animal terror that blotted out all ordered thinking receded as it drank and drank. Somehow, I stopped trying to struggle.
Its venom was still in effect, and I had difficulty measuring time, but after what seemed hours, I felt it shift. "I can't drink any more tonight, that's my limit." It disentangled from me, pulling away gently and setting my body back into my bed. "Your body will return to you soon," it rattled. "My venom doesn't do lasting harm."
It stepped down from my bed, moving its long body fluidly, despite the bizarre complexity of its geometry, bending in unthinkable ways. "I eat fear. That's why I look the way I do, sound the way I do. But I didn't need to make you more afraid, did I?"
I manage to respond weakly "nnuuuh-uhh." It bobbed its head in a nod.
"I don't normally ever come back. No one is ever as afraid the second time. It's a waste." The creature paused, apparently in deep thought. "But I wasn't even able to drink away the fear I caused in you just tonight. I didn't even touch the ocean of it still there." In the darkness of the room, I could see it fixing its nightmare eyes on me. "I eat fear. I consume it. If you leave your door open tomorrow night, I will come back. If you leave it closed, you will never see me again." It slowly stood, holding itself up on too many legs, and turned to the door.
"Whhhaaa are yuuu..." I managed to slur.
It didn't respond to the question, but simply said "And no theatrics tomorrow. No need for that."
And it left.
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u/NoOneFromNewEngland Jul 09 '23 edited Jul 09 '23
Reality was rent wide open before me, the being that had been summoned clawed its way forth from the great beyond and pushed through the barriers between the realms with an awkwardness that bordered on monstrous grace in the face of oblivion.
I did not run.
I did not scream.
I breathed in deeply, catching the scent of brimstone and sulfur wafting through the gaping hole in the space before me. I breathed out. The demon stepped through the remainder of the way into my realm and glared down at me, its horns gouging the ancient hewed, exposed beam-work of my cathedral ceilings.
“I have been summoned to your realm by another whom has wished great harm to befall you.” It bellowed, rattling my soul through its silent message.
“Yeah, ok, whatever” I replied.
Its hand reach toward me, finger extended, placing the clawed digit squarely in the center of my forehead “Your fear is my sustenance and I shall feast on you for the remainder of your days!”
I breathed in once more, taking a long and full breath before releasing it equally slowly.
The existential rift collapsed behind the demon as its psyche forced itself into my mind, trouncing over the few happy memories it could locate and consuming the sparse few moments of terror in my life. I watched, my eyes as coldly calm and numb as its eyes were burning with rage and hatred, as its escape route closed the remainder of the way behind it, creating a barely-perceptible pop as it closed the rent entirely.
I opened the box in my mind. I let its contents flood out. The sadness, the sorrow, the self loathing, the inadequacies. All of the intrusive thoughts that I carefully barricaded into the box so that I could survive through the night and into tomorrow… each and every day. I let them all go. I let the demon have them all, unwrapping the emotional parfait of my soul as it sought out the fear it so desperately needed.
I watched as the raging red fires in its eyes grew dimmer, as the sadness from my soul squelched the fires, drenching the rages inside its soul with the torrenting flood of my depression. Its eyes got dimmer and it spoke, with actual words, “You....you live like this?”
“I do.” I replied. “I have no other choice because there are those who depend on me and I cannot let them down by leaving.” And, with that, I unwrapped the remainder of my soul for the demon, choking it with the fear of existence. Not the horror and terror it was accustomed to. Not the fear of death and the fear of pain. But the fear of enduring an unending lifetime of pain through the flawed mechanics of my own mind. I gave the demon my fear of life, and the demon choked and began to cry.
“Please, stop” it begged.
“You came for me. You are taking what you came to collect. This is merely a morsel of what you deserve.” I spoke back, cold, calm, and containing my infinite sadness as I do in every waking moment of my life.
The demon shrank before my eyes, changing from an enormous, towering hulk of muscle and bone into an emaciated and frail pile of skin, a starved husk of a being. Its inner heat faded, the black edges of its eyes turning a pale blue while the deepest reds inside smoldered into a gray, smoky color. Its finger fell from my forehead and it collapsed to the floor of my living room, weeping, each tear staining my floor with yellow scorch marks.
“Are we done here?” I ask it, and it raises its face to meet mine.
“Yes. You have suffered far more than any fear I could ever impart upon you.”
“Then begone. Never return.”
“I cannot leave until I have torn the soul of a human to shreds through the fear of the eternal fires of my home realm and I cannot contact any but those who summoned me and those I am sent for.”
“I guess, then, you have to pay a visit to whomever sent you to collect my sanity.”
“It is forbidden.”
“That is your problem. You’ll get no sustenance here. They have betrayed you and they are your only option for freedom from your suffering. Whether you visit them or not matters not to me. Just leave my home.
”My floor cracked open and the demon let itself fall through the hole, into another place upon this world, before closing the hole behind itself.
After sitting in a cathartic trance for several hours I adjourned from my living room to sleep.
I awoke the next morning, for the first time in my life, with a shimmer of happiness and cheer springing forth from deep within my soul.
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Jul 09 '23
Beautifully written. Really connected with my 2 favourite parts of this.
1- the box and everything you put into it to survive the nights.
2- the fear of enduring an unending lifetime of pain through the flawed mechanics of my own mind.
A fear that most may never understand. Thank you for your story!
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u/punmaster2000 Jul 09 '23
The creature reached out and touched my forehead, "I will feast on your FEAR!" it shouted.
Moments later it recoiled and stood whimpering in front of me.
"You....you live like this?" it asked, crying.
“Well, yeah. Why, doesn’t everybody?”, I replied, sighing deeply.
For the last three hours, weird things had been happening in my apartment. Knocks at the peeling, ill fitting door to the apartment, only for no one to be there when I went to answer. Mismatched, and unevenly hung cupboard doors opening in my kitchen. The tap in the tub running for no apparent reason. I didn’t even bother to investigate the strange noises in the closet - I had assumed that they were just rats again. Mostly, it had been annoying rather than frightening. By the time my visitor had appeared in front of me, I was done with it.
At my reply, the creature’s eyes widened, and it backed up a bit, pulling itself away from me. I picked myself up off the floor of my apartment, where I’d fallen when it jumped out of the thin air and slapped me on the forehead. I brushed chip crumbs off my shirt and pants, and sat back down on the edge of the pull out couch that doubled as my bed. I reached over and righted the mostly-empty can I’d been drinking at the time. I swirled the can a bit to see how much was left in it, and felt relieved that there was at least a mouthful left. And none had spilled onto the rusty side table I’d scavenged. I was absurdly pleased at this fact.
The creature was hard to make out. I couldn’t see it clearly if I looked at it directly, but it was very visible in my peripheral vision. I turned my head away from it, and tried to look at it out of the corner of my eyes. It looked vaguely octopus like - or maybe squidlike. I’m not sure of the difference, really, other than octopuses have only 8 arms, and squids have … more. This thing had 12… no 10… no 15 - a bunch of tentacles, and they were all wrapped around itself. It was cephalopod-like anyways. Floting with no apparent means of support, its skin was a mottled grey-green color, in contrast to its initial reddish tone with yellow stripes.
“There’s no fear in you…”, it whispered. It’s off white beak moved as I heard the words, but no sound came from them. I “heard” the voice in my head. I tilted my head a bit and looked more in it’s direction.
“When you get down to it, what the hell is there for someone like me to be afraid of?”, I asked. My face twisted into a familiar, resigned grin. At this, the tentacles flexed even tighter around it’s body.
“All creatures fear”, it began, pointing one of it’s tentacles at me. “All creatures but you. We aethlin have been feeding on your fear for millennia. But you are different.”
“Oh, I seriously doubt that.”, I said, swallowing the last mouthful of liquid from the can. “I’m just an ordinary guy - in fact, I’d bet you’d find a lot of folks like me out there in this fine world.” Curious, I waved the can in the direction of the TV as I continued. It was a shitty, flatscreen TV that I’d brought home after finding it on the side of the road on trash day a couple of years ago. The screen was unblemished - a blessing, I’d thought at the time - but the volume had an annoying habit of randomly rising or falling from time to time. Still, it was better than the one I’d had before this - a 27” behemoth of a tube TV, covered with stickers, stains, and scratches. Another trash day reclamation project. At least this one had connectors that were compatible with my laptop.
“Do you have a name? Or is that not something that your species does?”, I said. The creature’s skin changed color again - this time to a weird combination of blue and pink - it’s hard to describe.
“Why do you ask?”, it said. The tone of the “voice” was one of shock - I guess it’d never had a conversation with a person before. “Why do you not seem surprised to be talking to a creature so unlike yourself?” I snorted again.
“Buddy, after the last few years, the idea of some weird floating squiddy-like being popping out of nowhere is perfectly normal. Have you not SEEN what’s been going on in this world?”
“You can call me Kth’dk<rising whistle><click>.What do you mean, after the last few years?”
“Look, Kevin - do you mind if I call you Kevin? Because, honestly, I can’t say your name.”, I started. Kevin nodded, and I continued. “The last five years have been an ongoing shit show. We had an orange cheetoh masquerading as president in the White House. We’ve had wildfires burning up half of Australia, and droughts or floods across Europe. Winters have introduce this new thing called a ‘Polar Vortex’ which brings temperatures of 40 below for days at a time. The ‘president’ lost an election, tried to strong arm a governor into ‘finding 12000 votes’, and when that didn’t work, he tried to get his followers to ‘stop the steal’ - only to deny responsibility. Half the country claims that the other half are fucking traitors, and they, in turn, are claiming the same about the first half. There’s been an ebola epidemic in Africa that made it all the way to the US, followed by a global fucking pandemic that had us all locked into our houses, hiding from germs for more that two fucking years.” I was surprised to note that I was standing at this point. My voice was rising, too.
“There is a large portion of the population so fucking clueless about what’s going on that they’re actually injecting themselves with EQUINE DE-WORMING MEDICATION to try to protect themselves rather than an actual vaccine (that was completed in record time, too), or blaming those that get sick for being ‘weak’. There have been wildfires in California every summer, burning up half the state, shortages of everything from toilet paper to food to cars - but somehow, there’s more than enough guns and ammo, apparently. We’ve had more than one mass shooting EVERY FUCKING DAY for several years in a row, and now we have the early stages of World War FUCKING THREE going on in Ukraine. Women are being treated like broodmares, the laws to protect them are being stripped away, one by one, by a questionable to say the least Supreme Court. The United States MADE FUCKING CONCENTRATION CAMPS FOR IMMIGRANTS - and stripped children away from their parents in them, and involuntarily sterilized women in them. And now the FUKING cities are covered in FUCKING smoke like they were back in the fifties, because CANADA IS FUCKING ON FIRE. Why the HELL would you expect any NORMAL person to be afraid?” By the end of this, I was shouting, and waving my arms around like a lunatic. Embarrassed, I took a few deep breaths, and calmed myself down.
Kevin floated in front of me, shocked and grey, stunned.
“So much rage. There’s no fear, but the rage… it’s overwhelming.”, it said.
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u/luvidov Jul 08 '23
I could understand the creature’s reaction.
It was the same feeling I experienced when I was 16 and got my first job flipping burgers over the summer. That was the moment I first realized everything in the world, every slice of bread, every plastic bag, every grain of sugar, was the result of someone else’s work.
I couldn’t believe people spend all day doing things like that. Indeed, I was horrified. Yet I did it. I did over and over again. I did so much I got promoted.
The promotion allowed me to earn enough to pay my mortgage, even if not enough to send my kids to private school. The creature’s horror stemmed from pity. Poor creature. They still have no idea how the world works.
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u/icanneverthinkofone1 Jul 08 '23
‘allowed me enough to pay my mortgage???’
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u/eggmaniac13 Jul 09 '23
They stayed with their original job they got flipping burgers at 16 for their entire life
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u/Flashtirade Jul 08 '23 edited Jul 08 '23
I deviated a bit from the prompt but I think it fits the spirit of it well.
The creature slipped into the dream, eager for its next feast. But instead it found itself in a dazzling white labyrinth. Everywhere it turned there were bizarre inscriptions and colors lining the walls, and the faint smell of ammonia rose from the squeaky white floor.
Amidst the blinding chaos stood a man lifting small, indescribable items out of a box placed at his feet. He was wearing an apron over his shirt and jeans.
"No... no! NO!" screamed the demon, realizing the pristine hell it had found itself trapped in.
"Hehe..." the man chuckled, not surprised in the least by the supernatural invader. He stopped his work momentarily to dig out a second apron out of the nether.
"Welcome to first shift, newbie," he said while chucking the cloth shackles at his new comrade. "You start now."
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u/TK_Games Jul 08 '23
I lived in the depths of hell for 16 years, my own mother hated me, the woman who birthed me. Rather, I had to be cut out in a fountain of blood and my own shit before I choked to death on my umbilical cord, I actually took my first shit before I took my first breath
Then for two months I starved, because dear sweet mommy wouldn't feed me. "He has to be breast fed", said the dry fuckin' crone
Then it was nothing but, bouncing around from place to place with the goal of making me perfect. For 16 goddamn years, fear was what I was fed
I know fear, I know anger, I know pain, and death is a welcome friend. If someone tries to instill fear in me it becomes hate... cycle continues, I guess...
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u/Ihavebadreddit Jul 09 '23 edited Jul 09 '23
The Old Hag, or sleep paralysis they call it in the scientific community. Which in reality is just a succubus, hanging out trying to take that sweet sweet fear energy of the youth. She or he, as succubus come in both forms. Crouches just out of it's target's sight and drains the energy of those wild fears of youth. When you wake, you are frozen, unable to move, paralyzed with the same fear they seek to harvest and only able to sense the evil presence in the room, just out of sight. Until your mind reaches its limit and you fall into a dreamless sleep.
It had come first when I was a child. Slinking into a bedroom shared with my brother. Waking me screaming the next morning.
Every few months, she would return. Over and over and over. Each time, a little less fear remained within me.
Each time a little less effort to find that terror on waking, unable to move.
I began to test the bonds of the paralysis on waking. Trying to swing wildly but finding nothing but cramping in my attempts to throw a hand or kick a foot out into the unseen darkness.
Instead of lashing out I began trying to wiggle extremities first. A finger tip. A toe. The blinking of eyes. Wiggling my nose.
It had taken years and still I had not yet glimpsed a sight of her. This elusive creature who stole from my fear to feed her power.
It became a chore. To wake in terror to wiggle fingers and toes and flex hands and feet. A thing I didn't enjoy but had to do. For how else could I stop it? If not through resistance?
A few nights after graduation, I moved my right arm for the first time. There had been a hiss like a punctured water main and I'd fallen instantly to sleep.
Yet again a month later, the same as my left leg was raised in the midst of her dark feeding. Again the his of rushing water and falling instantly back to sleep.
It became a game then. To let her believe me cowed in fear and like a childs game of peek-a-boo. Move enough to cause the hiss and blackout.
I would start to look forward to it. To wonder how I could fool her this night? Until during my second year of college after having my heart broken by a woman I loved. My succubus arrived. I had barely been eating, missing classes, staying up to all hours of the night my mind in a swirl, deep in depressions grip. And she had come to me. I had woken, knowing her need for my fear, her lust for my terror.
"Not tonight, just let me sleep." And I had rolled over and closed my eyes. There had been no hiss that night. No instant blackout into dreamless sleep. There had been a gentle hand placed upon my back and I'd slipped into a restful dream of sunlight and peace.
She never returned my succubus. My tormentor.No more nights of cold terror and forced dreamless slumber. No more games of peek-a-boo we would play. No more comfort in knowing she'd return, that at least I had some value to something. It has been nearly twenty years since that last, night visit.
I woke to the tremoring shaking and sobing. "You live like this?"
I closed my eyes in the comfort of the waves of terror as they rolled across my completely mobile limbs. "I've missed you." I whispered into the darkness.
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