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From Dusk til Dawn | TS Forquer

** TOP 35 CLUB**

This story has made it to the TOP 35 of the #TNTHorrorContest. I appreciate all the votes I received to make this possible. You guys are amazing and I love all of you! Fingers Crossed for the next round of picking for the TOP 10 and a chance at $20,000! 

ENJOY! 

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The screams were steady for a moment. Our neighbor cried out for her youngest son, sobbing, her screams broken by the strain in her voice. It took all of my strength to hold her up before she fell to her knees, holding her face in her hands as tears streamed between her fingers. The window on the second floor was wide open, the dark brown curtains fluttered through them like the cape of a superhero.

That's what we need, a superhero. Someone who can answer the questions around here and save this wretched town from anyone else going missing.

One month. Three children gone. Not just missing. Gone. Without a trace and virtually no way to find them. Virtually.

The blinds from the Culburns' house, the new neighbors across the street, were bent down just enough, the eyes of one of those mysterious family members peering at us. Just as I noticed, they flipped back up, gently swaying side to side. Everything seemed to have started right after they'd moved in. But why? How? So many questions were flying around in my head. Bouncing around like pinballs in an old arcade. High pitched ringing pierced my head. The palms of my hands all but a solution to block out the sound as I clawed at my ears, screaming. STOP.

Visions of the night sky flashing across my brain, lightning, winged creatures rapidly shooting across the moonlit landscape, the faces of children crying, and suddenly, darkness. Heavy, inhuman breathing echoed through my mind.

"Grometh bel Chivke Nome," said the raspy, demonic voice.

What would normally mean nothing at all, suddenly meant everything to me. I understood what this creature said. The ringing in my head stopped, the ground stopped spinning and I opened my eyes, surrounded by the neighbors. I sat up,

"Follow the Gifted One," pours from my mouth like water from a river.

My sight fixed on the mysterious neighbor's house across the street. The young boy stood motionless in the top bedroom window as our eyes met. A slight shimmer in his eye was overtaken by the red glow of his pupil as a smirk broke the seal of the boy's mouth. He backed away steadily from the window as the neighbors helped me to my feet.

"What just happened?" I mumbled to myself as I tried to regain my balance.

The setting sun was too bright. The orange and pink rays breaking through the trees, burned as I shielded my eyes, staring at the ground for direction trying to find the way back to my house. The guiding hand of Mr. Nixon from three houses down as he helped me up the stairs and opened the front door. I barely made it to the couch before passing out again.

---

Awakened by the sound of water dripping into a large puddle, and distant hissing of unfamiliar animals, I opened my eyes and ran my hands to both sides of me. Surrounded by thick, soupy liquid and a gruesome scent. A swaying light dangling from the ceiling revealed the red tint of the blood covered floor I now lay in, lined with skulls and numerous, mangled body parts. I couldn't help but gag from the smell.

From the corner of my eye I saw a large, dark figure shoot across the narrow tunnel shaped room.

The sound alone was enough to scare even the toughest of kids. It was the creature's mass that truly petrified me. It flew across the room, emerging directly in front of me.

It's teeth, protruding over the bottom lip and dripping with thick saliva.

The skin was wrinkled, yet tough, like an exoskeleton as it ran its long talons up my forearm and leaned in closer, breathing in my face as my lips quivered in fear.

My eyes were closed, but it's face engraved in my mind. It's black eyes stared into my soul.

"Grometh bel Chivke Nome.... bel Chivke lo drompe bel Panta," said the demonic voice, and once again, I understood every word. What language is this? Why was I able to understand what this thing was saying?

I was slammed up against the stone-washed wall. The grip of the creature hindered me utterly motionless as I shut my eyes, preparing for the impending attack.

Opening my eyes, I was staring up at the ceiling of my living room.

Just a dream?

"Follow the Gifted One, the Gifted will free the Damned," I muttered under my breath.

What is going on?

The aroma of roasted chicken wafting from the kitchen was a pleasant change from the smell of rotting flesh in my dream. I smiled, realizing it was just a nightmare as I made my way upstairs and dove headfirst into some research on my laptop before dinner was finished.

Searching for what felt like hours, reading about all kinds of mythical creatures that kidnap children and where they like to hide. The only one I was able to find that matched the language and the look of the beast that I've been seeing was one called, "Klabuk"

I sat there, just staring at a picture of this creature that someone captured in the early nineteen-hundreds all the way in Poland. It was blurry, but you could definitely see the outline of the exact same thing I saw. But why was a creature from Poland, terrorizing a small town in Oregon?

I kept digging.

This thing doesn't travel. It passes its curse onto someone else, keeps it going and going for decades. Each one killing the previous before being able to take its final form. It feeds on the flesh of humans to stay strong, and sleeps in the mind of the next chosen Klabuk.

"Chosen?" I asked myself. "This is just some urban legend. It can't be real." I told myself that over and over again until I almost started believing it.

"Dinner is ready Clarence!" my mother yelled from the bottom of the stairs.

---

After dinner, I couldn't sleep. The effects from events earlier in the day impaired my ability to close my eyes for the night. The wind outside was starting to pick up from the fast moving thunderstorm, every noise made the hairs on the back of my neck stand up. I laid awake in bed, using the laptop as my distraction to keep myself from thinking about the visions.

Just as I went to stretch my arms, the glare cast across my laptop screen from the street light outside had disappeared. A cold chill had come over me, my lights flickered and suddenly, the execrable ringing returned as my eyes rolled into the back of my head and everything went black. This time was different.

I awoke moments later, covered in blood, half nude and my clothes torn, to the sound of police sirens outside. The taste of copper still fresh in my mouth. What happened?

Taking a look outside, it was clear I had passed out longer than I thought. The sun had risen, and The Culburn's home was taped off with yellow caution tape as the paramedics wheeled out a body draped in a red stained sheet.

"WHERE IS HE? I NEED TO FIND HIM!" screamed Mrs. Culburn from the front door of the house.

It took five police officers to hold her back and try to calm her down.

As I took a look down at my tattered clothing, and blood-stained skin, panic set in. What had I done? I crawled across my bedroom, trying not to be seen by anyone outside. After crawling across the floor, I stood up and made my way into the bathroom.

"It's just an urban legend. It can't be real."

The sound of the bath water running soothed me. I sat there on the edge of the toilet seat waiting for the water to warm up.

What happened?

Why couldn't I remember the night before? What did I do?

I stuck my hand in, testing the temperature and pulled the knob to turn the shower on. I stood there, back against the water for what felt like hours, running my hands through my hair. The blood flowing from my back and down the drain as flashes of the night before came rushing back.

Trees, lightning, rainfall, more lightning, and then blood. Lots and lots of blood. I heard the screams, his screams. I couldn't stop. I just kept going and going until the screaming was over. The brother tried to intervene, but I was too strong. I couldn't stop. I wasn't myself.

My eyes shot open, my heart beating faster than ever, I stepped backward from the stream of water from the shower and stared blankly at the wet tile wall.

"It's just an urban legend. It can't be real."

After the shower, I spent the next several hours, scrubbing the floor clean, scared to leave my room. My parents called for me occasionally, pondering and whispering about what happened across the street. I sat in my room, visibly shaken trying to piece together the events from last night.

This voice kept whispering to me, my name coming from the walls. First, they were quiet and spread out as I tried to ignore them. They eventually grew louder and closer together. What started off as a gentle, ominous whisper, soon became a growling scream. I found my way into the corner of the room, curled up in the fetal position, rocking from side to side and mumbling under my breath.

"Chivke Nom. Chivke Nom. Chivke Nom."

The blue and red lights bouncing off my walls eventually stopped right before the sun fell behind the treeline, and with it, the whispers stopped as well. The only audible thing at that point were the owls in the distance, and the rolling of thunder.

I sat up, and laid down in my bed, laying on my right side just staring at the wall. I wasn't tired, but this black haze kept washing over my vision. I blinked trying to regain sight of the beige wall, fixed for a moment but again taken over by that black fog. Every time I blinked, the haze worsened. Until all I saw was blackness.

I couldn't sleep. The constant roll of thunder shook my bedroom window. The power went out moments ago, but the frequent lightning strikes illuminated my entire room. A large gust of wind threw my window open, I jumped in fear just as my bedroom door slammed shut. As I cowered back into my bed, covering my face with the blanket, there was a quick blur of motion as something shot across the ceiling.

Under the growl of the thunder and strong hiss from the wind, there was another sound.

Something snarling, breathing slowly with a raspy exhale.

I could feel it getting closer.

The floor creaking as it approached the edge of my bed.

It was getting louder, I could feel every breath against my face.

My only shield was the blanket between us as I held my breath, trying not to make a single noise.

"Clarence.. Clarence. Clarence!" said a voice, rapidly approaching.

A cold chill consumed my body and my eyes rolled back into my head.

The bedroom door swings open as my parents continued calling my name. Still shaken, I laid there motionless on my bed. My father pulled the blanket away from my face, sweat beading down my forehead. I sat up, breathing like I just ran a marathon, and frantically scanned the room multiple times in search of the beast that loomed over me.

"What is it honey? What's wrong?" my mother asked concernedly.

"There was a thing, it was... it flew... I heard it... breathing and walking." I was struggling to find my words, still shaken.

"It was probably just a bad dream son. This damned storm has everyone freaking out," said my father, rubbing my back for comfort.

Suddenly, I felt a wave of calm wash over me.

"I'm okay," I told them.

They sat on the edge of my bed, watching me as I walked to the bathroom with my hands to my sides. I opened the door, stepped inside, and closed the door behind me as I stood there staring blankly in the mirror, a reflection of a different version of myself.

My skin, started stretching, wrinkling as it hardened.

Long, sharp talons cutting through the back of my hands as my fingers curled inward toward my palms and fell to the floor.

Screaming in pain as my parents beat on the door.

Thick, viscous saliva fell from my mouth and hit the floor.

I stared at the next string of saliva hanging from my jaw as it slowly falls to the light grey marbled floor.

I glanced up, looking what's left of myself in the mirror.

My eyes were no longer the light hazel color I knew growing up. The once innocent brown eyes were now as black as a starless night sky, dipped in the ink of Devil's blood.

"It's time Clarence," said the whispers.

The bathroom door was thrown across the room like paper in the wind.

Standing over my parents, a smile crawled across my face.

I couldn't stop. I wasn't myself. But it felt so good.   

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