The Black Realm

[LT.Diablo]

As I lay there, tranquilly at peace with myself for the first time in months, I felt content. The curtains billowing gracefully in the wind, something felt amiss. Something in the air, something about this night was different, something sinister was out there and it was hunting me. As I slowly got out of bed, i checked under the bed, realizing my child hood fears of monsters under the bed, only I knew this was much worse than a childish fear. This was primal. This was ancient.

 

Making my way to my closet, and my small arsenal of weapons. Tonight was the night that I was going to finish this, or die trying. As I reach the closet I hear that same satanic screech, the one that I heard that god-forsaken night. I quickly spin on my heels, and pull out my trustworthy hunting knife, yet there is nothing there. Am I going insane or is he just playing with me? I turn back towards the closet and start preparing myself for what I was about to do.

 

Let me take you back, and explain my story to you. 4 Months ago I was your average Joe office drone. I spent my days surfing the net in search of anything to distract myself from the mind numbing reality that was my life. I'd give anything to go back to that now. It's amazing just how blissful ignorance is. Anyway, I found a site into "spirit summoning of the darkest order", which instantly stood out to me. After all, we've all dabbled in the occult, whether it be a simple séance or Ouija board we've all done it but most don't dare to take it further. Some of us, the "elite few" as they used to say, were above the rest.

 

After visiting the site for a few weeks, I got to become pretty good friends with one of their more dark members. He called himself " Ascha The Cleanser". We started talking through IM's and got to know each other more and more, it turns out we had more in common than we first thought. Not just simple tastes in music or hobbies, but the same out look on life. We both had a similar youth, mundane, white picket fence suburbia. You know the deal, Christian, church every Sunday, barbaque's in the summer where my parents friends would come round. I hated it. I hated everything suburbia stood for.

 

After a few months of talking to "Ascha" he decided we should meet. I, being a pretty trusting guy agreed and gave him my address and contact details, he left me with his contact details and told me he would be in contact within a day or so. He also told me his name, "Alex Smith". How ironically normal.

 

That night I was going about my usual routine of arranging my clothes out for the following day and going to bed. The last thing I remember that night, was laying down on my bed and feeling much sleepier than usual, I practically passed out. At around 4am I regained consciousness. A roughly visibly figure was standing in front of me, breathing heavily.

 

"Who the f*ck are you and what the f*ck are you doing in my house!?"

 

I yelled at the intruder, amazed at how seemingly calm he was. He just stood there, staring back at me in total ignorance, as if I were speaking a foreign language. I repeated my question this time in a far more assertive tone;

 

"WHO THE f*ck ARE YOU AND WHAT DO YOU WANT"

 

This time, he moved, backwards across the room away from me. I saw him leaving my bedroom so I decided to follow as to make sure he left without causing damage. As I got to my kitchen I almost passed out. There, on my marble worktop was a freshly slaughtered carcass, weakly resembling a calf. The smell of it's mutilated corpse was over-powering, and the sight of it made me physically gag. When I turned to look at the intruder he was sat on the floor slowly cutting into his upper thigh while laughing sadistically. With a large, bloody hunting knife, he cut deep into his flesh as if butchering livestock.

 

I stood there, sickened, but at the same time sickly interested. I calmly walked into my bedroom, opening to bedside drawer and taking my loaded .57 Revolver, and slowly making my way back to the kitchen. What I saw then would haunt me for many weeks to come. Nothing. No blood, no rotting mutilated corpse, no insane self-harming "hobo". My kitchen was as clean and crisp as when I thoroughly cleaned it that evening. I slowly made my way back to my bedroom, opening my bedside drawer to replace the .57 only to find it was already there and not in my hand. Mentally drained, I climbed lethargically into my bed. I got least sleep that night I can remember. I layed there for hours, contemplating the possibilities of what I had "visualized" that night.

 

This would be normality to me now, but this was the first of my encounters with the "black realm".

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Ok so that was my first story on this site, C & C please I know it's not the best, but I had a strong urge to write something tonight. Might post more if anyone wants! . Hope you liked it!