I initially refused to acknowledge it. It wasn’t there. The whispers were the TV though I knew I turned it off. The chills …show more content…
Watching and feeling this parasite maneuver its way around my floor. My body started to tremble as an unknown hatred began to grow. A hatred that could only be formed by absorbing a lifetime of pure torture and fear. As my body shook, so did the floor. I was truly impassioned by my own trepidation. I unflinchingly grasped my rusted iron cane which stood stiffly beside me like a robust yet decrepit praetorian and heedlessly stuck the alien lump under the rug.The rubber tip of the cane slammed into the figure and I fell to the ground with titanic force as a blinding pain pierced my left shoulder. Reaching back with a free hand, I felt along an open and macabre gash and my fingers became stained and wet with quickly gushing blood. I struck again. And again. And again. Beating the body with all of my receding energy. My shirt had become soaked and stiff with my own blood and sweat. I leaned back and rocking forward, I slammed the heel of my boot into the center of the figure, but my foot came plummeting down and hit nothing but the ground. It had disappeared. A smile spread across my face as an undeniable feeling of relief planted itself inside of me. But that feeling soon died as I realized that this smile was not mine. It had a wicked undertone. My body froze and a growling laughter began to rise from my throat filling the room with an evil aura. The lights cut out and I was standing there, paralyzed and vulnerable. My lips were forced apart and a deep, rough voice poured from my mouth. “Rug! Rug!” A disheartened feeling swept across me as I lost control of my own body. It was absolute. It was