Hallway Alternate Ending

The night drew closer around the individuals who, some in dreams, some in panic, seemed to react to impending danger and turned, some to nightmares, some to an eerie calm, as those on death row that accepted their demise for what it was, an abrupt shattering of their existence. Be that as it may, however, some did not wish to go so simply. While some wished for a calm ending, but embraced nevertheless a less subtle end, that of fire and mutilation, others feared it for what it was, or what it could be. Some feared being lost, trapped in a dungeon of previously sound architecture, to watch the edges of their vision turn to the blackness of

“But a deeper terror immediately gripped me: I couldn’t remember where I was. A warm bed, darkness, the sound of traffic. What country is this? What is this house, and who am I with. I reached out a hand; there was no one else in the bed. Was I alone because I had no partner, or because my partner was far away? I floated in the dark, anonymous to myself, lost in the sensation that the world existed but I was no longer a part of it” (130).

My clammy palms clasped the wooden arm of a plush, pink chair. The crisp air of the empty hall sent chills up my spine. Beaming lights engulfed the room. My heart felt dense. I could see my chest compress and decompress with every erratic beat and arrhythmic dance. Nerves jolted through my body. My mother squeezed my skeletal hand as she sat

We begin on a dark night with wind whistling and crows cawing. It was fall of 2003, Mike and Erin were biking together. Suddenly they see a shadow in the distance and turned their bikes into a scare. Their Spines chilled and faces froze with fright. They fell down the hill that no one ever dares even lay eyes on. Stories told that there was a woman who died from wood chopping a tree that fell on her. Some people say you could even see her ghost. “Mmmm-ike? Are you ok?” Erin mumbled. Mike groaned in much pain. As Erin weakly stood up, He saw something hovering above Mike. “Mike I need you to listen to me” Erin exclaimed. “Don't move” Mike turned around and gasped! Above him was a stick tied to a tree. “Erin, are you messing with me?” Mike complained.

I began to panic, as more and more of the black dots climbed into me, wriggling up my arms like worms in the rain, hurting me more and more. I dug my nails into my body, trying to stratch them out, to no avail. I couldn’t take the pain, the persistent feeling of being stabbed by a thousand tiny needles, pricking harder and harder each time, the uttermost betrayal from my only friends, the only ones who ever knew me. The fishbowl began to crack, like icy roads in the Monday morning rush. I grabbed a knife from the kitchen drawer and began to scoop out the bugs, slowly at first, but then as more began to form, I picked up the pace. Every time I managed to flick one body to the tiled floor, another would begin to crawl up from my toes, coating me in a layer of darkness. My body was numb as lines of ruby appeared on my arms, but my heart raced uncontrollably. Trickles of water slithered down the glass. Slowly, the dots began to fade, almost reducing into mist and floating away, how the trees return to stillness after a storm, as a sea of garnet rushed over me. But this state of relief did not last long- a dark shadow formed in the doorway, blocking all light entering the room. It looked like a shadow; as dark as hell, it spoke words of sin and hate, with a voice low enough to shatter glass. I staggered backwards, and held myself up using the counter behind me. It launched forward, grabbing towards my arms, wrapping around me, choking me in smoke. A waterfall gushed over my face, drowning me. I couldn’t

With that said, as this fear of the community was a physical horror, being “visible”, it unfolded an avenue for the individuals to be able to kill this so pronounced “creature”, differentiating between a spiritual fear. For further explanation, Wilbur had unfortunately melted away when a guard dog had bit him because of his odd odor, leaving him “half-bent on [his] side in a fetid pool of greenish-yellow ichor and tarry stickiness, [where he] twitched silently and spasmodically,” and was later found to have “no skull or bony skeleton; at least in a true or stable sense”. (Lovecraft, 251 & 253) Therefore, this evidently exemplifies the characteristic of physical fears being not merely visible, yet able to be destroyed, to allow the hearts of the “victims” of this fear, to be calm and satisfied. Nonetheless, it is quite disappointing as Wilbur was going through all this pain, for stealing a book, “Necronomicon”, and yet the community did not shed a tear even though, he was a man who was simply trying to live independently, without having any family member at the age of

Smiling, she enjoyed the ride from the grocery store. Excitement building at the thought of the camp-out. They headed toward the church for a 'Royal Scouts' camp-out, when Elisabeth felt the car slow to a stop. Looking to her mother she asked; 'What's wrong mommy? Why are we stopping?' 'Someone's car broken down, honey. So we're just slowing down so people can go around them.' She looked out her window at the little white car stopped on the two-lane bridge. With just barely passing the room, she watched as people moved their cars to the right side of the lane.  From somewhere behind their car, the sound of a freight train came squealing to a halt. With a burning smell of rubber, piercing her nostrils, a logging truck whizzed past her window. It happened so fast. When the truck came barreling down the road, it fish-tailed into the back end of Elizabeth's little white car. Shattering her window, Elisabeth as pieces of glass floated through the air and the car turned toward the ledge of the tiny bridge. The ringing sound of her mother's screams rang deep within her ears, as the water on her right slowly came into view. Jerking the steering wheel with all her might, her mother screamed as she desperately attempted to turn it away from the ledge. No matter how hard she tried, the wheel would not move in any direction. It was locked. Her mother threw her hands in the air while

"Maybe we should wait until tomorrow when it's lighter outside," said Jacob nervously wiping his palms on his pants, then firmly taking hold of the steering wheel. The car lurched backward, halting as if something solid lay behind them. Suddenly, the headlights dimmed, flickering light against tall grass and without reason, shut off. Panic opened the door to his fears, forcing adrenaline to shoot and expand throughout his

I saw from the corner of my eyes a rich red covering my body and the cream carpet beneath me. I tried lifting myself up from where I lay but it proved to be impossible. As the seconds past, my limp body inches closer towards death. I could only just see from where I lay the man creeping through the night, not stopping for anyone. He inched forward towards me slowly like a cat waiting to pounce on his prey. He looked over me with an unpredictable look in his eyes as he analysed mine. My blurred vision and the dim room prevented me from seeing him in great detail. All that was visible was the brown eyes of a beast staring into my still grey ones. I lay there as silent as I could in hopes I appeared to be dead to the beast. He poked one of his gloved fingers at my face but I did not dare flinch. He

I looked up at the black sky. I hadn't intended to be out this late. The sun had set, and the empty road ahead had no streetlights. I knew I was in for a dark journey home. I had decided that by traveling through the forest would be the quickest way home. Minutes passed, yet it seemed like hours and days. The farther I traveled into the forest, the darker it seemed to get. I was very had to even take a breath due to the stifling air. The only sound familiar to me was the quickening beat of my own heart, which felt as though it was about to come through my chest. I began to whistled to take my mind off the eerie noises I was hearing. In this kind of darkness I was in, it was hard for me to believe that I could be

The neighborhood came to an end at a crossroad. Rowan ran across the street, heart beating in her ears. She didn't stop until she was well down the sidewalk, then slowed back into a jog. Blue Pine Drive, read the green street sign at the corner. A feeling of hope fluttered inside her chest. Just a few more blocks, and then she would be safe. Slowly, her heart beat stopped racing and slipped into the same rhythm as her feet slapping the concrete. She concentrated on keeping each breath

As the light turned green, I sat for a moment, not moving, and asked myself what I was going to do. Then I accelerated slowly, waiting for the car on my left to pass as I changed over to the left lane. I made four left turns at four consecutive stoplights until I approached the library again. Pulling into the library's parking lot, I turned off my lights, radio, and heat. As I opened the car door, the cold air stung me like a quick slap to my face. Slowly and uncertainly, I walked toward Mike.

It was a grey and calm night. Desidério Eaton was sitting on his couch with his mother reading his favorite story: The Phantom Tollbooth, when tragedy struck. The wind began to howl and the windows shattered. The young man was scared out of his mind and did not know what to do. His mother grabbed him and held him in her warm embrace shielding him from the falling broken glass. Rain was pouring and lightning repeatedly struck the same place twice. His father rushed in the room with his Tommy gun and prepared to fend off the intruders, but there was only a storm. Desidério watched as his mother and father were swept away by the black winds and repeatedly shocked by the grey lightning. He raced after them as quickly as his eleven year old legs

Droplets of cold sweat trickled down the boy’s forehead, his legs felt as if thousands of pounds were shackled to them. He staggered away rapidly and relentlessly in utter desperation like one trying to elude a swarm of furious hornets. Trembling, muscles tense, pulse throbbing, red and fiery tension was in the air as if a raging volcano had just erupted. Insidious shrieks of horror wailed from back behind the corridor, followed by the sounds of muffled shouting and other unorthodox noises too distorted to make out. Hissing sirens cried from outside the walls, and the sound of helicopter blades thundered noisily above. Ominous, grey, sickening puffs of suffocating smoke poured through the halls,

Ahead of him was nothing but eerie darkness. Encountering a knife like rock jab into him in the neck was coming up in his timeline...or was that just an extremely realistic shadow, he wondered. Jerry’s vision got fuzzy. At eighty-two seconds he could no longer see, his legs and arms were numb, and his heart brutally pounded in panic. Was he in a trance? Or was he just not thinking? All he could do was recognize shapes and an approximate darkness. According to his approximate darkness calculator, there was a slight illumination blur crossing his sight. Was that the light of heaven or the end of the tunnel? Jerry knew he could not be dead because he heard,