word count: 1,614 words
time taken: 4 hours
genre: horror, psychological horror
~enjoy
![silence and noise-word count: 1,614 words
time taken: 4 hours
genre: horror, psychological horror
[I]~enjoy
[IMG=A3Y]
•](https://image.staticox.com/?url=http%3A%2F%2Fpm1.aminoapps.vertvonline.info%2F7457%2F0bd23b47ca0e347c0cda453fcb3554ea67d87287r1-750-375v2_hq.jpg)
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my fingers slid down the frets of the guitar, gliding against the cobalt strings which made rough, yet light indents into my soft fingertips that felt sharp and acidic on my skin. the sounds that resonated from the guitar in waves could not through my ears, but i strung the strings to drown out the silence.
silence, was the loudest sound. it was the only sound that was capable of seeping through my eardrums, only to play back a series of “nothing,” that i could still somehow hear. the sound of nothing is like sitting in a white room full of blank white canvases, sitting in front of a tv that only knew static, looking around you at walls that didn’t resemble any material. it was not tile, wood, dry wall, nor siding. it was simply nothing. the color “white” itself, the color of nothing. the color to start all colors.
i often see strange people in my home, typically in my living room where i play my instruments. on good days they just stand there. on not so good days they pop my bubble, and stand or sit directly next to me. on worse days they whisper things to me, which i cannot hear, and i thank god that i can’t hear. on bad days they run around screaming or making distressful noises, doing disturbing actions which include vile things that horrify me too much to think out loud. and, on terrible days they attempt to interact with me, physically.
i noticed his shadow in the dark, right corner of my living room. he lurched over his shoulders, breathing heavily as if in distress. i couldn’t see his face in the dark, however i avoided eye . i continued to play my guitar, focusing on my fingers and the way the strings bounced back, vibrating on the palm of my hand. i tried not to imagine what the sound of him might sound like, and tried to imagine the sounds coming from my guitar instead.
i dropped my eyelids shut like curtains, and thought of me backstage, hiding under a table, behind my guitar in hopes that they wouldn’t come and find me, and force me to be on stage. i didn’t want to experience the things behind the curtains, i didn’t want to see the violent and R rated imagery before me.
but i did. i opened my eyes. my eyes rested on the dark corner of the room, almost magnetizing to it. but, he wasn’t there. after the realization hit me, i felt short puffs of air on my left cheek. my heart dropped like the tower of terror, 130 feet down. i suddenly felt it pounding, pulsing in my chest dramatically and strikingly like the vibrations of a bass drum pounding from a large distance in the middle of a dark and quiet alley.
i stared straight ahead of me, not turning to look at him. i didn’t blink, the only thing that i was focusing on was my ability to not look to the left of me, in his direction. my fingers were still pressed down on the strings, they did not move at all since the moment i opened the curtains. my heart rate did not increase, nor did my body or hands shake in any way. it was almost as if the moment petrified me so much, that the natural human instincts for showing fear was delayed, and i was currently in a state of shock.
my head snapped to my left on an impulse, and my eyes met his. he, no, “it” was smiling at me, but not in the pleasant way that you think. it smiled at me eerily, in such a way that sent chills from my shoulders, down to the waist. it was almost as if it was mocking me, aware of the paralyzed state i was in, and used it against my will. it’s eyes, it didn’t blink. it’s eyelids weren’t there, it was just the eyes. it’s eyes were the color of dirt, the color of nothing but everything that made up the earth. the corners of its mouth rose up almost halfway up its face, level with its nostrils. its smile made almost the perfect “U” shape, however it wasn’t humanly possible for it to smile the way. its smile was far too large, and that’s what was the most unsettling part of it all.
it didn’t move. it didn’t even flinch. it was like a wax figure, except it was alive and breathing on my face. its eyes were staring into mine, almost as if it was dissecting me piece by piece, and reading my thoughts. i eventually was able to move, breathe, and blink again, as i was immobile for almost seven minutes. i slowly turned my head the other direction, my facial expression not changing at all. my eyes were widened to the maximum, and my mouth was partly open from attempting to scream, which never came to me. after i turned away, i blinked a few times, moisturizing my dry eyes. i closed my mouth shut, and breathed deeply, exhaling the air that i held. i continued to stare in front of me, and used my fingers to find the strings i was playing. i played the chords i knew, but i played them louder, and more aggressively. i strained to feel the vibrations of the guitar on my lap, desperately needing at least some form of sound to play to distract me from the creature beside me.
it’s gone, though. it’s gone. away. somewhere else. where is it? is it to the right of me this time? behind me? most likely, but i did not bother to check, i kept my eyes forward. i felt like a robot, playing this instrument without moving anything but my fingers and my arm. the strumming pattern was inconsistent, but the vibrations were significant.
i dropped my eyelids again. why? why did i do that? everything will change. while i’m backstage, the stage will set up differently. the entire scene will be different now. how idiotic, how stu-
my eyes opened almost involuntarily. there were now at least 20 of them. they all stood around me, whispering. whispering things. some were next to me, whispering in my ear. some were in the corners, whispering things. some where standing in front of me, whispering things. what were they whispering? what the hell were they whispering? i don’t know, and i hope to god that i never know what they were whispering. are they whispering the meaning of life? the ways of God? the ways of Satan? unknown miracles? life wonders? or maybe even disturbing secrets? the harder i thought about it, the worse it got. my deaf mind could not fathom or comprehend what they were saying, i couldn’t even read the lips of these beings. they were incomprehensible, and they were no longer humans. they were strange beings that didn’t belong on this planet, yet alone in this universe.
now, they were no longer whispering. they just stared at me, angry looking. their eyes were menacing, and their lips were pressed tightly together. their eyebrows furrowed slightly, and their heads were tilted down. i slowly looked around, and started to feel the panic arise in my chest. what was this? what was happening? this has never happened before. i whipped my head around frantically, searching for a sign, a sign that can trigger my mind to make it all stop. my chest heaves, and my eyes water. they all started screaming, i couldn’t hear them, but i could feel it. they all scattered, running into walls, knocking over trinkets, slamming their heads against the floor. i scanned the room in terror, and as my hands clenched to fists, and my eyes teared up, i pushed out all of the vocalisation that was build up in my stomach. i screamed as hard as i could, squeezing my eyes shut until it felt like my blood vessels would burst. the frustration, confusion, and terror rained down on me like a thunderstorm, pouring into my eardrums, my nostrils, eye sockets, and my mouth. the silence almost made my head implode, and the sound of the rain clogging my eardrums was so incredibly nonexistent that it was almost the realest thing happening to me.
it all stopped just as suddenly as i heard... a noise. i wasn’t sure if it was something inside of me making that noise, if it was a hallucination, or if it was real. but, it couldn’t be a hallucination, because it would still be real. i couldn’t hear things, so what is this?
i slowly opened my eyelids, gazing at my guitar. the noise, again. it was from the guitar. no, it can’t be. why? how? i plucked the e string again. it sounded. how miraculous, i could hear sound! the guitar, i could hear it. but straight after i realized this miracle, it quickly turned into a curse. i stopped plucking, and realized that my worst nightmares now came true. the people, the strange people. i could now hear them. just as i realized this, i looked in front of me, and just like before, they were all standing in front of me. my heart stopped, and my breathing paused. i was now more petrified than i was previously, and then i did something i thought i’d never do. i slapped my hands on my ears, covering them before they even started to make their disturbing noises that i always hoped to never be able to hear. i sat there, and waited. i waited, and waited.
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![silence and noise-word count: 1,614 words
time taken: 4 hours
genre: horror, psychological horror
[I]~enjoy
[IMG=A3Y]
•](https://image.staticox.com/?url=http%3A%2F%2Fpm1.aminoapps.vertvonline.info%2F7457%2F5ae5415518a96da62d8c975d5032be56435c63d4r1-750-750v2_hq.jpg)
-art credits-
cover image: “schizophrenia” by johnny lemonade
title image: “the creation of adam” by michelangelo
Comments (2)
That was terrifying! So well written.
thank you! i’m glad that it was terrifying to you, and that you enjoyed it :sparkling_heart: :sparkling_heart: