Creative Writing: Restless Shifting Of Blood Cells

I woke up in a cold sweat, screaming and struggling to move my restrained arms. The night guards ripped open the heavy steel door to see what was wrong. The creature was standing in the corner looking right at me. I was pulling my arms against the leather restrains trying to point the naive guards to the cause of my appalling state. The

The Psychology Behind the Serial Killer Creeping around the shadowy house, the predator found its prey waking to strange sounds. The victim lay facedown, with a sweating forehead pressed fearfully into the pillow, silently praying the noises would just go away. Suddenly the victim found himself straddled and pinned to the bed. He was unable to scream for help due to the pressure of the handle of a pick-axe against his throat, preventing any breath from escaping, much less any sound. The victim struggled beneath the weight of the assailant. The scant light from the sodium-arc street light outside cast a peculiar silhouette on the walls of the darkened room, projecting an image that looked oddly like that of a cowboy saddled upon

The gray, bland walls still hold my drawings from years ago. Blood scattered around the room adds some color the dull, grey walls and floor. The only source of light comes from a small, prison-like window. There’s no bed or anything. Just emptiness. In the far corner, a chain with blood dripping off it hangs.

“Hello?” I yelled in her face. “Hello?” I said in a panic now. “AHHH!” I screeched. My voice echoed and I crumpled to the floor. As I lay on the ground, a smell seemed to enter and toxicate the air. I didn’t run, I didn’t fight the urge to fall asleep, I didn’t care if I died right there and then. In my mind I had already died, and my spirit was still back in bed dreaming of nothing important. I was just a body, a body waiting to meet the horror of this white prison. As I lay crying and beginning to holsinate another wave of white washed over me.

“You think you know everything you,well you don’t. Do you know how hard it is to be trapped here,your the last one of your kin that can free this poor soul. Oh so pretty,oh so beautiful,you can free me,I know you can.” The eyes at the end of the hallway squinted at me,the voice laughed,and these white circles at the end of the dark hallway were no longer in my sight.

I was in a dark, moss-ridden dungeon where the air vigorously hung with the scent of death and suffering. Chains lay on the cobblestone walls, with hammered metal shackles on the cracked stone floor. My lab coat collected dust like a dead old skeleton six feet under. The gun felt gelid on my temple, my scrawny legs were shaking extremely fast, I thought they would run away but I knew I could escape.

Slowly, I made my way out of the bed. The halls were dim and quiet. My foot steps could be heard a mile away. While making my way to the living room, the sounds of pots and pans startled me. I felt a cold breeze blow in front of me. Nothing was visible. My heart stopped beating for a couple of seconds. Papers started to fly around. Blood stained the walls, my prized china shattered as high-pitched screams filled the room. The blood slowly formed words... her dying words.. her words of hell. “CRISTO!” I cried out. Papers covered the living room. The blood disappeared. I felt light-headed. It felt like it was happening in life. Luckily it was a dream. The dream was so vivid as if I was experiencing it. I hurriedly stood up looking around in my

My slumber, for however long it was, was awoken with intense feelings of panic, which resulted in my body feeling fatigued. My tongue slivered along my parched lips and was met with the coppery taste of blood. As I gently crawled out of the tomb on to the concrete ground, I noticed three candles which dimly lit the medieval room. They were waving at me as they emitted a bitter lavender smell, an attempt to eliminate the

Warm crimson ran down her arm leaving a metallic smell that filled the room to the brim. The silver slit of metal she used slipped out of her hand as her vision became blurred and her breathing became faint. She slowly came in and out of consciousness while her

I stared in horror – that wall was stained with gruesome blood stains. What the smell was became all too obvious and I felt the need to vomit… that motion put away and forgotten in an instant when the shuffling of feet rustled behind me. Panic. I turned around in a blur, my eyes huge and watering. My stomach stirred in the slightest. A lamp? Indeed, a tall standing lamp radiated a warm light only a few metres in front of me. Was it real or a figment of my abused mind? Curiosity would get the best of me, lending me a tiny spurt of energy to boost me on my feet. Teetering footsteps led me forward cautiously, random tremors reminding me of my weakness. The lamp was close enough to touch, its friendly warmth the only hope in the world to me. Basking in it for some slow seconds, I wondered, maybe there were more things in the room that hadn’t been revealed to the naked eye? Turning sharp on my heel, I let out a blood curdling screech as I came face to face with the most horrific thing I had ever seen. Huge fly-like eyes took in my paling complexion, and a lopsided smile of stinking razor sharp teeth mocked me. Rancid skin that looked like the algae layer that sat upon a swamp bubbled and oozed, trickling down a sharply shaped ‘face’. Flight or fight reaction chose the obvious option and I turned back again to run. Where, I did not

As he thumbed off the safety, he allowed himself one last, stolen glance at the sculptured head, arching up to grasp an apple. Jamie swallowed and pulled the trigger with his twitching finger. The deer took a tremendous hop while Jaime's heart is pounding like a hammer hammering a nail. He stood there quietly with a stare looking back into the bush where the deer had ran. Jamie stood up shaking like it was 20 below out he bolted back to the house and told his mom and his dad the good news. After telling him Jaime and his dad headed for the woods. Jaime showed his dad where the deer had been when he shot it so it would be easy to find the blood trail. The woods was quit then Jamie's dad found the blood trail. Jaime and his dad followed the

“You scout the area?” She asked. They looked like an old, faded, black and white picture, that only she could see.

“I can only speak regarding your soul. I can do nothing about your sentence. Your husband is waiting and wants to see you. Would that be all right?” He asked.

There was an itch on my forearm. I reached over and dug my nails into a thick fabric. Confused, I opened my eyes and noticed that I was wearing an orange jumpsuit. The air was cold and smelled rotten. There were black metal bars covering three of the four walls that surrounded me. My head was pressed against a cream colored pillow that I assumed was once white. The hard cot left knots in my muscles.

I awoke with a throbbing headache which soon heightened my senses towards the outside world, it was cold and dark, with a sense of death in the air. After I climbed out of my cot a spine tingling scream filled the air which was usual, but this one sounded familiar in a way that made me cringe. It was an old friend whom I had not seen in years. As I ran out of my bunker, I stood watching as a woman was dragged by her hair into the alley by the Hungry and the woman cried for help only to get hit repeatedly until she