R. Ngamreipou Rongmei

Crime Horror Thriller

5.0  

R. Ngamreipou Rongmei

Crime Horror Thriller

A Nightmare in a Prison Cell

A Nightmare in a Prison Cell

6 mins
432


Many were here before me, I believe, there were strange things written on the walls, horrifying messages and symbols , these were written with blood… some so old that the redness of the blood has faded and is pale, and some so fresh that I could still smell the stench of blood. The ceiling was falling apart; it made believe that it will crumble down any moment crushing me. I was trapped in a cage, the three concrete walls surrounded me, and it was upon these walls that the strange things were written.


One of the walls, the one between the opposite parallel ones, had an opening from whence the moonlight entered the little cell, in the darkness this beam of light illuminated the cell, no so much but enough for me to see. The opening was too far for a man to reach, and too small for a man to crawl through, barely four inches high and seven inches wide. The other side, facing this wall had metal bars that ran parallel to each other vertically, I could see the other side of it but I could not make it to the other side. This place stank, the foul stench of the blood mixed with a smell similar to rotting flesh. I wouldn’t be surprised if I saw a demon sitting in the darkness in one of the corners of the room. This prison cell is hell, only the filthiest man, such as me, finds themselves locked here.


Unable to find sleep in the dreadful place, I sat upright on the edge of the steel bed, the ones you find in poorly maintained hospitals, wishing myself dead than to endure this miserable hell. Before me there was a red inverted pentagram drawn on the wall. I heard strange things. Outside I heard the howling of a wolf in the wood beyond the prison wall, how in the dead of night it roams under the full moonlit sky. From the cell next to mine I heard a man weeping, suddenly then laughing only to start weeping again. I also heard the sound of nails scratching on the concrete walls as if a man with bleeding fingertips was desperately trying to dig a hole through the wall and make an escape. Then there were the sounds of the footsteps of the prison guards on their patrol. The clanging sound of their nightstick hitting the metal bars was driving me insane. How could a man possibly find himself a peaceful under these circumstances? Only fears find him.


A cloud has covered the moon and banished even the faint moonlight and I sat there in complete darkness. My sense grew stronger; I could smell the stench sharper and the sounds clearer. It seemed as though the darkness had taken away my sight but had given me stronger senses to smell and hear and feel the darkness so as to compensate for the loss of my sight.


It began to rain, at last, the haunting sounds were no more audible and were replaced by the sound of the raindrops and thunders, I felt better, the only thing that troubled me was the smell of the blood because of which, it made me think the sky was bleeding and raining blood.


The darkness, however, grew stronger, I raised my hand before my face in an attempt to see it but all I could see was darkness. Such darkness should only exist in the deepest depth of the earth where the Demons lurk, but it only fits because I and the other inmates were criminals, convicted for inhuman behavior. I had been brought here because I murdered my brother. From what I heard from the guards, one of the prisoners ripped the heart out of his wife and ate it. Yes, we’re demons without horns.


Then I laid down on the steel bed hoping to fall asleep and wishing I wake up only when this nightmare is over, only wake up when the morning’s light calls for me.

Suddenly, a thunder that shook the entire prison woke me and once more I opened my eyes before the nightmare was over.


I got up and sat on the edge of the bed again shaking my head and pitying myself. Then lightning flashed which for an instance lit the prison cell like a flare shot in the battlefield during a night raid. For that split second, I could see that cell clearer than I did in the daylight. And that divine flash revealed to me a figure of a man that stood before me. He wore a black cloak and had a scar on his face that ran across his left cheek…

wait… that scar…

that scar, that cut is the cut I delivered on my brother’s face before I killed him. Why? He should be dead. And is his death not the reason why I am in this terrifying haunting hell?


I sprang to my feet alarmed, scared and confused. Then another lightning flashed and it was then that I saw the deadman lifting his right hand in which he held a dagger as though to stab me. I quickly got hold of his right hand with my left, and then struck his throat with my right fist. While he grasped for breathe, I seized the moment and took the dagger from his hand and stabbed him in the left eye and upon withdrawing the dagger, his eyeball left its socket and got stuck onto the dagger. Lo! He fell to the ground, dead like a deadman should be. I do not know why or how my sight was restored, even in the darkness and without the lightning flashing, I could see clearly.


I sat on his chest and began slicing his face, removing patches of skin and eating them, it tasted good, it tasted better than anything I had eaten, it was ten times better than the hard bread they gave us. Using his blood, I started writing on the floor. When I was done, the corpse had no more skin left on his face, an eyeball missing and his tongue split into two equal pieces. I got back on my feel and looked down on the floor beside the dead body and read what I had written, it said, “The dead should be dead. DO NOT RETURN”.


After inspecting my art, I was quite satisfied and began to express my satisfaction in demonic laughter.

Suddenly, the ceiling opened and a gallon of blood fell upon me –

I awoke wet and cold, shivering and there were two guards look at me through the metal bars which separated us. One of them shone a torch on my face and the other held an empty bucket from which the water had been poured upon me.


One of them said, “Do you know where you are?”

“Yes, sir. I am in a prison” I answered calmly.

“of course you are, at least you’re not insane. Now tell me, why you laughed like a madman in the middle of the night?”

I chuckled and replied, “Nothing, sir. Just good dream”.

They muttered some words to themselves and left, and I went back my slumber.


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