Paige's Club

Chapter 4. Encountering The Ghastly Demon.

The night was cold and the rustlings of leaves grew louder as the near gale blasted, and trees were swaying continuously.

While Clayton was standing by the mirror at Paige's Club, In a rush, the washroom door opened with a rattling creak, and whispers boomed into his ears at once. Wondering what was going on, curiosity gleamed in his eyes as he turned toward the washroom whose door was slightly open.

His heart thumped brutally against his chest at every step he took toward the washroom such that he was choking. Gazing bewilderedly at the door, he noticed something like a gigantic shadow rising to its feet.

What!

Clayton exclaimed in his head, pausing his movement. His head was spinning and he was overwhelmed mostly by the whispers which sounded louder, filling the air and echoing in his ears all along. 

Was there anyone in here for real? Or was his imagination playing pranks on him?!

Despite the coldness of the place, he felt the heat of the profuse sweat sliding down his back into his pants. He exhaled and began to move slowly again. Breathing shakily, he stood a few extents away from the washroom. Initially, he thought the whispers were coming from there until he got closer and the whispers seized instantly. The passage then became so quiet that he could have heard the sound of a pin if it had dropped.

Standing still he wondered if he had truly seen a shadow, because right now, even though he had not opened the door wide, he wasn't sure there was anyone there. Or maybe he never wanted to admit that. 

 Before he could decide on his next action, the door suddenly opened wider on its own, and very briefly, a bloodstained hand with extremely long raven and angled fingers encircled his right ankle tightly and yanked him violently such that he fell at once. To Clayton, these actions were happening too fast and he could hardly see the monster that had just attacked him. His head was void and the ability to think had left him as it was spinning.

Once he gained consciousness, the first thing he realized was that a damp hand was dragging him down into a bottomless pit. Once his eyes opened, he barely saw but heard whispers and moaning coming from somewhere.

Wait. What the f*ck is going on?

It was gloomy here and a strong hand had been pulling his right leg, still, he'd not landed anywhere. "Where am I? Who the f*ck are you?" He let out a terrific cry, but there was no response. He could only hear his voice echoing and it sounded horrible. Upon hearing a scream echoing from beneath, he looked down, still falling into the dark hole.

It wasn't dark beneath. He saw that it was flickering red there but he wasn't sure where the light flickered from. Peering into the dark, he saw a closed casket. Although he didn't see anyone, the whispers seemed to be coming from there and his heart romped violently, feeling like it would swoop out of his mouth. He was so afraid, he didn't know what to think.

As soon as the casket opened, a damp hand pulled him faster and his heart raced harder to a violent bang against his chest.

  Was he going to fall in there? 

He thought to himself, while profuse smoke was puffing out of the casket. Now, he was almost approaching the rough ground on which the casket was. 

Clayton's body landed with a loud thud against the bloody floor, close to the casket, and groaned in pain. 

As he lay unconscious, close to the casket with smoke puffing out of it, a bloodstained thin hand with dirty long nails erupted from the casket. The hand wriggled its fingers briefly and roosted on the edge of the casket, close to Clayton's head. Another erupted too. 

Then Clayton's eyes swung open at once while coughing dryly with one hand on his chest as smoke filled his respiratory organs.

Bewildered by being in a strange place, his wide flickering eyes rolled to the casket where he flinched upon seeing…the monster. He sat up immediately and shifted away, wondering and feeling like he was in a different world altogether. Then he looked around briefly before settling his gaze on the mysterious spectacle.

There it was, looking like an ill monkey with no eyes in its sockets. Both thin and bloodstained legs were on the casket. It was squatting as though it was about to attack him. He couldn't see any further because of the smoke flaming out of the casket. And Clayton wondered how it squatted on the thin edge of the casket and didn't fall back in. 

He began to hear moaning from within.

"Clay…Clay…" A soft voice moaned his name.

Clayton flinched at his feet instantly upon hearing that. Not minding the monster with him, he flipped with fear and curiosity glowing in his eyes. He thought that voice came from behind. 

Now hearing his name from the casket, he veered around instantly again and was astounded by the disappearance of that demon.

"Clay…come closer"

This whisper echoed in his ears, and It was coming from the casket. Terrified and curious altogether, he took a few steps forward. As he got close, the smoke disappeared so that he saw how deep the casket was.

Gazing into the deep casket in terror, he saw someone…or a monster lying in there– he guessed it was a she. Her body was straight and her wrists were crossed over her belly. Though he was terrified and about to urinate into his pants, he observed the weirdo's features. She had black, long, and thick hair that almost made her face obscure. But he could see the empty eye sockets and the fresh blood that was still sliding down her pale cheeks.

"Gosh! Was she alive?"

The wind began to blast within, whistling, throwing him off balance. He almost couldn't withstand it as he twirled along.

Wind still blowing violently, the assumed monster inside the casket floated out and remained in the air. Its hair swung back and forth while the wind blew. It was in a sleeveless short gown that had been stained with blood all over.

Struggling to gain stamina, Clayton turned, his heart almost leaped out of his mouth upon seeing the gory demon in the air, confronting him. In a blink of an eye, the ghastly creature fastened Its dreary hand to his neck and pierced its black long nails in. 

He whimpered and wanted to scream but couldn't find his voice as he felt the nails striking his bones while blood was gushing out of his nostrils and mouth. 

Still having its nails in his neck, it yanked him brutally toward the casket. Then it opened its mouth and raised one hand over him, it wanted to attack him. It wriggled its black nails briefly, then brought it down swiftly…toward him.

Struggling on the bed, Clayton's eyes opened with a start. Wiping cold sweat off his face with his damp bedsheet, he looked around and was amazed that he was in his room. Not Paige's Club.

What! He's been dreaming all the while.

He quickly pressed a button on the bed lamp and the room was illuminated. Then he picked up his wristwatch which was ticking softly on a small table beside the bed—It was a few minutes past 1 AM.

Still afraid, curious, and perplexed by that horrifying dream, he felt pain around his neck and a sliding sensation. Then he placed his trembling thumb there and when he looked back at it, there was blood on it. 

He hurried off from his room for the washroom and stood, gazing at the miracle happening on his neck, through the mirror on the wall. He turned on the tap and water sprouted out immediately, then he cleaned the blood, groaning in pain. 

After he had finished wiping the blood, he rinsed his hands and looked in the mirror to see how deep the injuries were. He turned off the tap, picked up a small towel, and dried his hand.

Clayton was examining his hurt swollen neck when he heard a thud at the door. He paused to listen but didn't hear anything else, so he faced the mirror again. But this time, that same ghastly creature he saw in his dream was standing right behind him, with blood sliding down her eye sockets.

His heart banged gingerly in his chest while his lips dropped. Terror glimmered in his eyes as he could recognize that face.

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