Can't Move On

By Hearm Jan All Rights Reserved ©

Horror / Other

Shaky Seedy Spicy Story-Spumy 4


Follow my rule. So read each word.

Warning! Ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha!

This story is very skanky in my personal perspective.

While you’re eating, don’t read this yet.

Hee, hee, hee, hee! Are you alone?

Stop! Don’t continue if you’re not,

It’ll only waste your spare time.

I were you? Come back later on.

Boohoo, boohoo, don’t be a spoiled.

Read this story from top again, when you are alone in your room; you should obey on my advice.

Just imagine you’re in bedroom.

Go, sit, near the edge of your bed.

Please, don’t concern. It is all yours.

Now, tune the lights to dim, dimmer…

While you’re waiting… could you hear it? Could, could, could —could you really hear it?

Now think this,

I didn’t kill her, (sob, sob, sob).

It was my failure, it was my all fault.

I killed her.

I failed to save her, (sob, sob, sob).

If only I could alter time.

I’ll correct every fault I’d done.

Cry. Just cry. Obey me. Feel this…

Ominous cold air is sizzing.

The alarming sound is hissing.

You can really hear flies’ buzzing.

Your doubtful mind is worrying.

So faintly, people are hailing.

You feel your blood, circulating.

Inhale, exhale, chest is racing.

You’re rubbing your elbows, shaking…

No! Please don’t kill me, please, I beg.

Voices are creeping on your spine.

It travels, crossing through your hands. It’s whooshing, flowing in your ears; stingingly deafen your hearing, chorally echoing to mind.

Arms are wrapping your body and they’re dragging you into despair.

Refresh your hearing, you gulp, grief.

Sitting in your bed, you’re shivering.

Your chest is begging you to run.

Frigidness is leaning your behind.

Eyes are staring at in that dark place, at those gleaming, stunning eyes.

Her clothes are white, her skin is pale.

Her overall body is lucent; though, some are fused in the shadow.

Her image prove — she has long hair. You couldn’t see her knees, you’re scared.

Standout to your eyes, is her grinning mischievous terrifying smile. You shut your eyes for the meantime, to refresh your thought from deceit.

Open your eyes; she’s in your front, nodding her head, amused, hungered.

Laugh echoes inside your room, as you jolt back, rising your skin’s hairs.

Your limbs are shaken, they’re stricken.

You have use your knees as for prop, as you lean your head in your wrists, wishing this will settle quickly.

Meanwhile… the abominable stench of rot is seizing your smell. Cold hand slowly creeps to your chest and the spare caresses your hair.

You feel her dried lips in your neck; gross, squashed, rough, and infested.

An icy, soft is now licking your neck; you’re freezing by fear of madness.

Please stop! Please stop! Your body begged.

The way she’s doing it, is tingling yet dreadful to your senses.

You turn to resist, however transfixed by gravitating fear as the frightful sight savagely crashes your overall volition.

You’ve descended, now lying in bed, whereas her rotten body is lively crawling above of you.

Eyes are wide open as her face is slowly zooming to vision. Her horrifying corneas are flusteredly scanning your face as you feel her coldly-and-wetly dirty abdomen is creeping upon your stomach, disgust.

You could even see some of those pests fallen from her hollowed cheek.

Her hand she poses near your ear. You can’t resist? You’re paralyzed.

A force radiates yet tiny, fueled to your eyes to shut hard; however, a gelid of something is now touching your lips… ugh…

Please no more! — In sensation of never-ending repetition.

You awake to where you’re lying. Hastily stood, searching into the drawer, you see a frame, you grasp it.

You go to the kitchen and clench two wineglasses and fetch some wine in the fridge.

On the table, you sit and pour to those twin glasses, leaning your head on the table, closed eyes.

Flies are buzzing. Slowly, you lift your lids to glimpse at the paled white warm lucent refracted onto the tabletop.

Your eyes shut close, still, thinking, this isn’t actually happening, while pushing the wineglass forward.

Cold overwhelms to your body, from someone’s hand gripping your wrist, and now it’s caressing your skin.

You could realize that the wineglass is moving away, screaking. Your thoughts are rolling, and rolling, to the deepest of your — despair…


You awake, lying in your bed. You rise, removing the ugly pearl on your eyes. You walk, opening the closet, to dress in new attire. You head on the kitchen and fetch some wine at the divider. You go outside the house, warming up your car. You fetch some new blossom roses.

As you drive, glancing at the picture above the radio — an image of man and woman embracing each other — you could see their smile, yet you feel someone is loaming behind.

You park in front of the cemetery, and headed in. Your tears pour much as you see a woman standing in front of a tablet.

You run suddenly, and hug her tightly. “Are you really alive?”

“See, act as a child. Don’t you recognize me? I’m her twin.”

“But how comes? No! You’re just an illusion?”

“She doesn’t love you, she only love me, and I want you. She’ll do anything for me, so that’s why you’re alive. It took me many years to imitate her hair. That is why, I’ll pretend to be her; but my warmest is only for you. So move on, accept me. I already begged many times.”

You kneel in front of the tablet, crying and yell, “No! Alisa! This is not true! Please! comeback to me!”

You punch the ground many times… Head suddenly felt heavy, eyes are blinded by darkish illuminated wiggling pigments. You could even hear a worried woman calling your name. You seem like falling, fallen.


[The End]

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