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By Rob Read All Rights Reserved ©

Drama / Horror


I may have opened my eyes, but I cannot be sure. There is only a nauseating blackness, a total absence of light; a void of nothingness. I have no comprehension now of that sense I once knew as ‘sight.’ No awareness of shape or color. I could as easily assume blindness struck me at some instant in my life, some distant moment that must have occurred during childhood, a loss of vision for which I have no memory.

The silence too is like a tangible entity, smothering me against reality in an insulated cocoon. Like a blanket or a rug wrapped tightly about my chest and face through which I am unable to breathe; drowning me in a tide of oozing fear while my thoughts cry out in their cacophony of chaos. I feel as though I have withdrawn deep inside my own body, a minute ray of consciousness inside an inanimate, lifeless corpse.

Even the beating of my heart seems now to be still. I can feel no sensation of blood and oxygen coursing through the arteries beneath my skin, no more the audible, delicate rasping of air being drawn into my lungs. The stillness is complete, as if my eardrums that once detected the faintest vibrations of music, bird call, the hum and chatter of insects, the rustle of the leaves on the trees in a summer breeze, have been removed. Or perhaps the air itself has been taken, leaving me in a vacuum. Who was it said, “In space, no one can hear you scream”?

Paralysis has seized my mind and muscle. I have no awareness of surroundings, impossible to move, impossible even to scream. Disorientation is such that I cannot discern if I lie on my back, my stomach, or even if perhaps I stand on my head. There is no sensation of heat or cold. For all I know, I may have been frozen in a block of ice, a. A waking awareness from nightmarish dreams, or even coma, could not be so mind-numbing as my present predicament.

Without the ticking of a clock or any way of measuring the passage of time, an eon may be passing as I search the depths of my mind to bring some logical recollection as to how I arrived in this situation. I seem to have no memory, no past, no expectancy of a future, only knowledge of this present moment. Is it seconds, minutes, hours merging into one continuous instant of existence I call now?

With such total absence of any sensory input, perhaps I should consider the possibility that this is death. But if I am dead, surely, I would have no self-awareness. This activity in my brain suggests I am not dead. “I think, therefore, I am.” So, could this be insanity? I have heard that certain drugs can induce a similar comatose state of mind.

And then, so softly at first they seem only to enhance the loneliness, I become aware of the faintest of sounds creeping into my perception. I hardly dare term the vibrations as sounds, rather that they invade my senses, coercing me into awareness, almost as if they emanate from within my head until, at last, they take physical form—a bump, a rattle, as of something falling. My entire universe begins now to pulse with the slow, rhythmic thud… thud… thud…

The noise drags from the obscure depths of my consciousness, the memory of something that has lain dormant, something I learned to dread throughout my entire life. At the now, slowly diminishing thumps, I realize the sounds for what they are; sounds that could only be sand and gravel falling onto a casket. Shovelled earth falling on the lid of a coffin; sounds that bring home to me the living horror of my interment. I find my voice and release a choking scream, knowing deep inside I am already too late.

Write a Review Did you enjoy my story? Please let me know what you think by leaving a review! Thanks, Rob Read
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Jessie: I wrote a review on fanfiction but I thought it would be fitting to write on on here too :) This story was honestly stunning. I am a budding writer myself and to read this- to FEEL this- reminded me of why I am honoured to have this passion and drive for a craft that is just so raw and beautiful.

Kastril Nomenclature: This is a very clever story in the style of 19th century (and turn of the century) Gothic writing, very reminiscent of Stevenson's The Body Snatchers or even of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde (less so of Frankenstein itself, since the author is more minimalist than Shelley's florid, Romantic rhetoric). ...

Jevron Macalino: You started the story after Chuck Vs. the Fake Name happened and I like your version more than I like the original one. The five or so episodes after the fake name should not have happened that is why I like your version better. I hope you will continue writing Chuck & Sarah's story from where y...

cicheah: Very well-knit story which sustains one's interest from beginning to end. Most enjoyable and a pleasure to read.

aeratheninja: Interestingly enough, this story touches on different psychological states and was very informing, on top of being a solid story. Although somewhat predictable, I thoroughly enjoyed reading this; I could feel the fear and the frustration of the characters, and was happy when they were happy.Even ...

skippybash12: This story has engaging characters that you care about and a plot that is unpredictable and exciting. It is well written with a believable voice. Great weekend escape and if there was a sequel available I would buy it today -

Melderise: This is just an amazing novel that teaches you how to break the bonds of reality. It shows how the most fascinating story can start from the most regular environment and then leading the reader to the dream destinations...

Ashley Stryker: So I'm writing this review, keeping in mind that this is a work in progress and it's part of National Novel Writing Month (NaNoWriMo), so my "deeper" critiques will be saved until it's all finished up.+ Chapter One: A stewardess would not talk to anyone quite like that, particularly a clear minor...

Noelle Anselmo: Jesus H Christ! When I saw this was a genderbent I though it was just gonna be the two main characters, but I was so wrong and I LOVED IT! I had no clue where you were going with it, and I was waiting for the make up, was dreading the possibility of not making up, and just how you had the story u...

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