He looked at the door he had gone through many times before. But this time it was different, some were trying to get inside. He didn't see it, but he could feel it. As soon as he could feel the hair on his forehead, his skin became dull. As if a winter air has dried up on a warm day.
But it was not a warm day. It was dark, it was damp, it was blooming and he was alone. The darkness of the passage lay behind, the chipped white paint of the wooden door. Disgusting as the entrance to the door like huge bleached bones standing in the dark. Wrinkling every fiber of his body, urging him to move, let it be, ignorance is happy. Nevertheless, his feet were firmly planted. His nerves are not willing to play the last parts and have sent a running message. Not even for his own survival.
The vaulted ceiling kept high overhead, too far to touch the walls and yet they crushed him in the narrow march in his mind. The childhood space turned into a surrealistic dream. A crooked and distorted set of acquaintances, detached from the real, to become impossible in reality. It would have been nice if the evil hadn't been there to swallow and swallow. Perhaps it was still beautiful. An initial cry that can only be made from pure fear.
The door shook like a strong fist, which was kind of peeling and the dust slowly fell to the floor and no sound could cause them to be free from the perch. The second and the third, until the fourth sprinkled that wood, kept the darkness until he was the guard.
He always knew that something was waiting to enter this world. All you can do is hold on and pull it back wherever the house is called. Home comfort and security speed, a place where you can live yourself. But what happens when there is a core of horror and where there is hell?
He stood in front and looked at the scene. The silence was astonished at the very vibration of the wall in his ears, and from the sleeve of the place where the autumn of the wood fell freely. A student glows from the darkness. The white of the eye, on the other hand, burns in the fire with the help of a thin line of fire just like the iris.
The fingernails of the nail are tangled over the crevice and it begins to tear. Makes it wider with each attempt. Unless the eye is focused, steadfast, and waiting to forgive the victim, the child has already claimed it as his own. A deal was made and a promise was made and it was time to claim its reward.
He knew he had to act. Something has to be done or his life will end before he even gets a chance. He opened his mouth to scream, but nothing came out. He tried again and saw a whisper pass through his lips as he reached for the restless hand through the locked door and broke the chain that had held the whole world for so long. It was set up intermittently.
As the door flew to one side and the beast was flooding into the corridor, his voice made its way inside with its last flow. And a light spread through his mouth to illuminate the place without any shadow, except the face of death.
You can't come!
And the mischief in the light still lingered on his tracks, an inch from the boy's face, in front of one eye, as if a smile had crossed his face and whispered it.
Yes i can
Darkness returned.
