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Nightly Horror

His heart hammered inside his chest like it belonged to a rabbit running for its skin. The room spun around in a vortex of colours, shapes and sizes and Josh grasped his sheets tight, pulling at the fabric almost to it's breaking point. He was sweating now, his breaths fast and short. He could see it in front of him, a corpse devoid of skin and pitted by burrowing maggots. Josh couldn't turn away as he lay there in bed while his stomach heaved, ready to expel what little dinner was left in there. Without eyelids the milky blue orbs of the corpse stared directly into Josh's eyes while the lip-less mouth hung open. It sat there at the foot of his bed, staring at him, laughing as it soaked the sheets with it's blood. And poof, the lower abdomen burst open and putrid intestines spewed onto the bed in pinkish brown coils.

Suddenly Josh began talking. His words were crowded together and some were missing entirely. His sentences fragmented, missing some. He tried so hard to answer the corpse's questions, to try and tell her that he didn't want any of this, that he wasn't entirely to blame.

He could hear so much noise, his mind filling with accusations thrown at him from all directions. A cascade of tears fell down from his eyes as he piece by piece began loosing himself.

And then. Poof, the corpse was gone and the voices had been silenced. He sat there, soaked in sweat and tears, shaking like a leaf and crying, crying for help, for solace, for anyone at all to come and hold him. He checked his phone to see what time it is. His fingers shook as he took hold of his phone and swiped right, unlocking it.

It was 03:34 and he had one message. From Sam.

He smiled.

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