Darkness Descending
Darkness Descending thriller stories
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dragonwillow
dragonwillow Proud Supporter of the Oxford Comma
Autoplay OFF   •   9 months ago
I wrote this randomly one night over a decade and a half ago. I finally pulled it out of my archive and gave it a quick refresh. Thinking it could be a prologue to a book someday.

Darkness Descending

The massive grey clouds crept over the moon causing the night to grow eerily sinister. A hot sticky dew lingered in the air. Silence. An unnerving calmness enveloped the night.

He stood fixated on the night sky. It was so dark, not even a star could carve its way through.

Coming out of his trance, he held his hands up in front of his face and felt the warm sticky substance slowly work its way over his wrist and arms. Breathing heavily, he looked around.

What now? He thought to himself in shear panic. Somewhere close by an owl flew out of a tree. The sudden sound of the crisp leaves being disturbed from their stillness startled him.

The monstrous clouds momentarily allowed the moon to peek through, casting a very pale light across the area. He gazed around and made out the silhouette of the aging tool shed.

Thunder rumbled in the far distance. A small yet swift breeze tangled its way through the old trees of the omnipresent woods behind him. He quickened his pace.

He struggled to open the door which groaned when he finally pulled it open. In the darkness, he searched blindly for what he needed.

He tried to keep the sound of clinging metal inside the thin worn and cracked walls. In what seemed like many endless minutes he found at last what he was searching for.

Somewhere far off, he heard thunder rumble low and angry again. The breeze picked up its speed and whistled louder. He ran back to the open door of the old house, shovel in hand.

His breath came in short gasps. Panic began to overcome him. Reaching the house, he went to the room where he left her. She was laying on the ground.

Dropping his shovel, he bent down beside her, gently lifted her head, and rested it in his lap. He tried to swallow the tears threatening to escape his eyes but to no avail.

They began to trail down his cheeks. Soon his body shook with sobs. He sat there and rocked her back and forth.

The loud howl of the wind as it blew against the old house broke through his grief. I have to do this now, he told himself. He laid her gently back down and grabbed the shovel next to him.

Running out into the darkness he felt the sudden chill that had seized the night. He ran through the woods until he found the perfect spot. He frantically began digging.

His muscles ached and tears would not stop pouring from his eyes. His vision was blurred but still he continued to dig.

I had no choice, he repeated to himself, desperate to believe his own words. All around him he heard the restless sounds of night. Crickets sang. Little animals rustled in the brush.

The wind continued to whistle and pick up speed. The leaves crackled as they got caught in the winds strengthening current.

He wasn't sure how long he spent digging as time seemed to stop. Throwing his shovel down he ran back to her. She was where he left her, laying lifeless in the middle of the sitting room.

He bent down beside her again and cradled her upper body, pressing her close to him as he continued to weep. I am so sorry, he whispered into her ear, over and over like a broken record.

He lightly kissed her pale forehead and brushed the bloodstained golden ringlets from her cheek. Then in one swift movement, he picked her up with his tired strained arms and stood.

He carried her cautiously out the back door and continued into the woods.

Walking through the twisted branches and twigs, he guided himself, careful not to rip the delicate cloth of her soft dress.

When he finally reached his destination, he ever so gently laid her in the shallow grave. Folding her hands across her torso, he stood and stared at her.

She is so beautiful, he thought to himself, like an angel.

Smiling softly at the thought of her laying so serene in her new resting place, he picked up the shovel and began to cover her with a thick blanket of dirt.

Sometime later he started to feel droplets of rain hitting the back of his neck. The icy breeze of the wind sent a chill down his spine.

After patting the last shovel load of dirt into place, he looked towards the sky and let the rain hit his face as if it was washing away everything he had just experienced.

Lightening flashed just off in the distance. Wow, he thought to himself with a chuckle, we're in for a quite a storm tonight.

With the shovel flung over his shoulder, he walked back to the house whistling as he went.

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