The Walls of Madness (A Horror Suspense Novella) by Saunders Craig

Author:Saunders, Craig
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Dark Fable Books
Published: 2015-11-03T05:00:00+00:00

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XV.

It wasn’t a dream. No dream was ever like this. Not even during his most acute episode had things ever been this bad.

Could they get any worse?

Was there any chance it could get better?

He couldn’t fool himself. The crazy man was eating him. All the things he was afraid of the bugs doing to him, and they were just crawling around. It was this man that was the threat. Wasn’t anything to do with the circle. He wasn’t having an episode. This hadn’t anything to do with stress.

The man’s phone rung. He picked up and moved back into the shadows in the corner and listened. Grunted.

He hung up and loomed over Bill.

‘I have to go out for a minute,’ he said, and for some stupid reason Bill’s heart leapt, because it was a chance, a half chance. But then hope could be a sneaky bastard.

‘You …well…doesn’t matter what you do, really. Do what you like. You aren’t going anywhere. Scream all you want. Nobody’s coming. Just me, coming back. Believe that?’

Bill nodded, careful not to let his hope show in his eyes. Defeat. Despair. That was all he wanted the man to see.

A Yik fell from the man’s face and landed on Bill’s chest. He barely flinched.

‘Well, be a good boy, then,’ said the man and turned to go.

Before he reached the stairs, he turned back.

‘Just one thing,’ he said. ‘One thing to think about while I’m gone.’

Bill felt terror then, because he imagined the wide man stepping across the room and eating more of him.

But he just asked a question, and that was somehow worse.

‘How deep, Bill? Think on that.’

‘What? I don’t...’ understand, he wanted to say, but the wide man was gone. No big fanfare, just heavy footfalls, receding down the narrow old stairs, and the front door slamming.

Bill waited.

He waited longer, wondering how long he’d have to wait to be sure. Wondering if he’d wait too long, and the man would come back, and he’d miss his chance.

Wondering if the man had really gone, or if this was just another sick game.

But the mantra, I don’t want to die. I want to live. I want to live.

It ran through his head. He couldn’t die. Not here.

And not because Eileen was still alive, but because he wanted life. He never knew how much until right then, bound, his toes eaten, his face bloodied.

He wanted to live, so he strained and wriggled and heaved as hard as he could. He cried because it hurt. He wanted to shout, to give himself one last push, one almighty effort, like a muscleman pushing a bar laden with weights toward the sky. The cry of a man who wouldn’t give up.

He bit down instead, so hard a tooth cracked, and then something gave in his shoulder with a horrible crunch, like he’d just managed to break his own bones.

Thing was, he had, but now he could get his arms out of the bonds.

He laughed, but slapped his hand over his mouth, because the man had only gone next door.

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