Hi guys, this is my first attempt at the horror genre, based loosely on a reddit thread on R/nosleep. As always I greatly appreciate any thoughts or feedback you might have on the piece.
Cheers,
Jevan Thompson
It was night on the surface, as it always was.
There was a slight shine from the distant moon, which was a rare gift in itself, but the darkness still enveloped everything, like a blanket over a cage. All was quiet save from the repeated, ceaseless chirp of crickets and a soft whistle of the chill wind blowing through the trees. Winter had left it’s signature kiss on the landscape of the woods, with frost covering the foliage and hard ground.
Alec’s calm breaths came out in a wisp of vapour, hanging around in the air briefly before being snatched away by the winds cold fingers. He was crouched by a large tree, hidden in the tall shadow it provided. He wriggled his fingers slowly, trying to get some feeling back into his bones. His body had just started to betray him, shaking softly with shivers from the icy temperature.
He had been waiting for about an hour, hunched in the same spot, not moving more than an inch. In Alec’s experience, patience was key to surviving the surface, that and a keen set of instincts. A gut feeling is something that humanity had cultivated over the many years of its existence, an unexplainable sixth sense that some people had left dormant, refusing to listen to it’s advice.
Alec was not one of them people.
He had thought about moving many times over the last hour, but that small niggling feeling deep in the back of his head had stayed his hand. He raised his right arm slightly, carefully tilting his head down to look at his watch.
03:17
He returned back to his waiting, with his left hand gripping the handle of his long blade on his belt. The grip of the worn wood reassured him, despite the fact he knew it would not help. Just a few more minutes. He told himself. Then after what seemed an eternity, a sound echoed through the forest, cutting through the silence like a knife.
A piercing whistle, only three notes long, but resounding through the forest with an eerie ease. Alec held his breath as the sounds of the wilderness instantly grew quiet at the noise, the crickets stopped chirping and even the wind seemed to stop dead in its tracks.
He waited a few moments, not daring to exhale.
Nothing.
More time passed.
Nothing.
Just as he was about to give in, another whistle sounded in the exact same song.
They’ve found prey.
Another whistle joined the symphony, then another and another and another. Now there was a chorus of intertwining notes, all of the same song, but the notes all clashing, forming a jaring choir of jumbled tones. The song set Alec on edge, making the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end, sending unnatural shivers up his spine. He had heard the song many times, but the sinister whistling never failed to upset his thoughts and make his blood run cold.
There was a faint rumbling, getting closer and closer, faster and faster, nearer and nearer. Just when Alec thought the noise couldn’t get any louder, dozens of shapes flitted past in front of him, passing by in the blink of an eye. A silhouette stopped suddenly, letting the rest of them pass by. It paused, looking in the direction of Alec and his tree.
He was still holding his breath and his lungs were beginning to burn, aching for air. The shadow was still there, silent and unmoving.
Come on you bastard, move.
The shape lingered, almost as if it was toying with him.
Move.
His chest was burning now, crying out for a breath.
MOVE.
A deafening whistle blasted from seemingly right next to him, making him flinch and involuntarily let his trapped air escape his mouth.
He froze in panic.
Days could have past for all Alec knew, but in reality it was only a few seconds. The shadow was still there. Watching. Then another whistle rang out, making the shape quiver slightly. Blind fear had seized Alec, the little voice in his head wouldn’t stop nagging him that he was about to be the next victim of the Whistlers.
But then, as quickly as the thing had appeared, it vanished, seemingly summoned by the call of it’s own kind. Alec watched it vanish across his vision, disappearing into the woodland. He waited a few more painstaking moments, then sagged into a shaking, hysteric heap of terrified gasps of air and quiet moans. He had to bite down on his gloved hand to quiet himself.
He quickly composed himself after a short time, wiping the tears of relief and anxiety from his eyes. He took deep, controlled breaths, trying to calm himself down, trying to forget just how close he had come to a horrific death.
Once he had regained his calm, his looked at his watch again eagerly.
03:19
His stomach had settled, his gut was no longer telling him to stay still and hide. It was time for him to move. He creeped to his feet, but stayed low, moving in a catlike crouch. His muscles groaned at the sudden movement, but reluctantly allowed him to start. The sounds of nature had returned to the area, the crickets loudly announcing their presence once again.
He padded through the undergrowth, making sure to avoid any branches or loose rocks that might give him away. Frost crunched softly underneath his boots. He could hear the whistlers in the distance, singing their unnatural song, but it was far away, far enough that Alec was not worried about moving. He had turned to face the source of the whistling, but moved like a crab to his right.
After a few hundred meters, he looked again to his right and saw his objective, his end, which came in the form of a hunk of metal that had no earthly business being there in the otherwise natural environment of the woods. He knelt down, keeping his head firmly up, watching for any movement, any sign of the whistlers.
Is it a trap?
Do they know?
He felt for the wheel to open the tunnel grate with his hands, but he never took his eyes off the woods. After a few seconds, his fingers found the wheel, tracing all around it in a practiced motion. Inhaling a big breath, then immediately exhaling, he ripped his eyes from the trees and frantically set to work opening the grate. Speed was his security now, he knew he couldn’t be quiet twisting open the wet, rusted door, so he poured all of his effort and concentration into the task, furiously cranking the wheel. It noisily groaned with a shrill shriek, as if was angry at being disturbed from its slumber.
He could hear the whistles again, they had obviously heard the wheel’s cries. He didn’t have much time. It seemed like every muscle in his arms was desperately burning, trying to get the lock open. The squeaking of the metal was horribly loud amongst the quiet of the woodland, it was almost painful for Alec to hear.
The whistles were getting louder and were growing in numbers, creating that loud, gut-wrenching melody that he had heard just minutes before. Panic was threatening to grip him, creeping into his bones and festering in his mind. The long tendrils of terror wrapping around his chest, making his breathing tight and stopping him from him from thinking rational thoughts.
He only had one clear, focused goal.
OPEN THE GRATE.
At last, after what seemed like years of hurried twists, the lock finally opened with a final groan.
Without a moment’s thought, he swung the heavy metal door open with a burst of adrenaline and fear and practically dived in with reckless abandon for his own safety. Luckily, there was metal mesh about half a meter down that broke his fall, the impact driving the air out of him in a sudden rush.
Ignoring his screaming muscles, he scrambled up and brought the solid door down with a shout of desperation. It slammed shut with a deafening clang, making him yell again in fright at the sudden noise. He immediately started twisting the wheel again, screwing it shut from the monstrosities that lay on the other side.
The whistles were loud, even through the thick metal. He could hear scraping and banging from the other side, making him shout with terror as he tightened the wheel. It was like hundreds of knives were being dragged across the other side, the jagged squeaking and thumping adding to the terrible mix of whistling.
At last, it was finally tight. Screwed shut. Locked.
He sagged down and once again allowed his emotions to overtake his body, fear racking him with silent sobs and endless shaking.
I am alive.
Teller of Some Tales 