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caineisbeyonddepressed submitted:

I’ve always HATED corridors. 

I remember it vaguely due to the fact that I just really wanted to forget it, but maybe sharing it will get it off my chest. Just, I really don’t know if it was just me being too imaginative or something was actually going to rip my heart out. Just, never have I in the state of drowsiness have imagined or dreamed something so real. 

Anyways, I was out with my family somewhere in BC, probably Victoria, on a little road trip vacation thing. Anyways we were staying in this lovely hotel. It was nice, free wifi, amazing view of the woods, and the room was simply magnificent. The only thing that unnerved me, was the corridor were terribly slim and our room was deep within it. So it was a horrifically long trip from the elevator to our room. 

On our second night there, I was a bit short on clothes because we were on the trip a little longer than intended. So, my mother had this brilliant idea of doing the laundry! There was a laundry room just on the opposite of the wretched corridor. You know what made it just so much better? It was about 10 PM. With severe reluctance, I agreed. I really didn’t want to wear the same old sweaty clothes twice. So we organized and piled up all the laundry we had and started washing. Unfortunately by the time it was our last batch, it was late and my mother was terribly sleepy. 

“Do the last batch.” She drawled, already slipping into her nice comforting bed beside my father. “Make sure you fold them, and just place them on the table and I’ll put them away in the morning.“ 

Her very words made my heart sink, it was just before midnight and I really didn’t want to. Luckily everything went normally, I stuffed the clothes into the laundry machine, then into the drier. Went back in my room for a bit to chill, and play some Skryim to pass the time. About half an hour later I figured it was done, and all I had to do was get them, get back, fold them, and get my ass into bed. So I did, I got up, trudged towards the laundry room scooped it all up into my arms and made my journey back to our room. Fortunately nothing tried to terrorize me, yet.

After looking through the clothes and folding them I noticed one of the socks were missing its partner. With a heavy heart, I made a mad dash back to the laundry room. Found the sock, exited casually too fatigued to sprint again. Trying to occupy my mind, and distract my mind from the growing anxiety and the seemingly slimming corridor I hummed. It was futile, I could hear a different sort of shuffling between the quick silence in mine. Testing out my theory that my imagination is just fucking with me, I stopped. It was too solid to be an echo. Once I stopped, there was an obvious shuffling behind me. It knew I stopped, and I could hear it whatever the fuck it was so it stopped too. My breath hitched in my throat and the ticking anxiety blowing up in my face because whatever it was behind me flicked the switch. Panic geared my legs into overdrive, my calves kicking into a clumsy start. The shuffling following and accelerating with my speed.

My heart raced, it thrashed itself against my rib cage desperate to escape whatever it was preying on me. Running past the elevator didn’t do me any justice. Once I was right by the device, the metal was suddenly being punished. Like a thousand fists slammed their knuckles against the thing repeatedly. It made me jump, slamming myself against the wall. Luckily my legs continued to kick, and sprint towards my door. It was all a blur from there, all I could hear was the ferocious fists colliding with metal and the shuffling. Luckily I left the door to my room held open by one of the locks. I dove in, slamming the door shut behind me and locking it with every available lock there.

The shuffling stopped in front of my door, I didn’t dare peek at whatever it was outside and rushed off to my bed. Shoving my sister off my side of the bed, and burying myself deep within the white sheets. After a couple moments of suspenseful silence, it began. The loud shuffling behind my door, the continuous knocking and bangs against the door and walls. It tormented me. It refused me sleep, I swear every time my eyelids began to droop the banging and shuffling would grow louder reeling me out of it. It was torturous, agonizing even. The worse part? Nobody else heard.

Fuck Yeah Nightmares Mod James: 8/10 Hooo boy, this was really spooky. You’re a good storyteller.  Thanks for sharing the scares! 




by cnkguy

Posted in Nightmares and tagged by with no comments yet.

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