Chapter 12: Nightmare

  “Ernst…”

  “...”

  “Ernst…”

  “...”

  “Ernst.”

  A woman’s voice peered into the man’s mind.

  Gasp

  A young man clenched his chest while sitting upright.

  Where am I…

  Ernst’s head was pounding as if his brain had been replaced with his heart.

  He looked around to find himself in the plaza that was somewhat near his home.

  The tents remained the same as usual, with the assortment of colours hovering over the tiled road. However, something was eerily wrong.

  Although the plaza itself had not changed, there was not a single soul who was present.

  Where is everybody…?

  Running around the maze of small tent-shaped stalls, he could not find a single person in the area. Although there was no one, everything seemed to remain in place.

  The meat stands steamed with fresh barbecue on the grill.

  Finejewelrys and second-hand clothing were out on display.

  Even the string instruments of musicians were left occupying where they would usually perform.

  A slight breeze lightly brushed their strings, letting out an out-of-tune sound.

  Too quiet…The once bustling plaza had its dust lying still on the ground. This sight severely bothered Ernst. Children who would cause trouble for shoppers and salesmen were nowhere to be seen. The suffocating presence of overcrowding was lacking where it usually should be.

  Suddenly, a lingering fog started to slowly pour into the plaza from the four main entrances.

  Slowly crawling and coveting the bright colored tents, it acted as if it wanted to consume the young man as well.

  Sensing danger, Ernst navigated his way to the center of the plaza that was marked by a stone fountain.

  Something’s wrong…I need to leave…

  His instincts screamed that he needed to get away from the fog.

  The white mist inched closer toward where the young man was standing, forcing him to step into the empty fountain.

  Black tar began to spew from the spouts where water was supposed to leave and enter.

  Drenching the cuffs of his pants, Ernst watched as it dyed his clothing a deep black.

  Although he was distracted by the sudden appearance of the mysterious substance, he noticed that the fog had stopped in its place in front of him.

  The tents were barely visible from where he was standing; however, he could still make out vague outlines of each stall.

  The tar-like liquid continued to fill the fountain that he was standing in.

  Driven by curiosity, Ernst stuck out his hand toward the lingering fog. The sentient-like mass of air seemed to gravitate toward him. It sluggishly drifted through the air toward his hand.

  However, just before his finger made contact, he caught the shape of a person to the right of his peripheral vision.

  Huh?

  Startled, he retracted his hand and looked to the figure whose features were hidden by the fog. It felt as if the air around him had subtly dispersed away from him as a result of his actions.

  Concerning the person standing not too far away, Ernst could not make out who had been watching him, nor could he tell how long he had been present. At most, he could see that the figure was most likely a man.

  Focusing his eyes, he leaned in to see if he could make out any more details.

  With a reserved voice, Ernst managed to croak out toward the ambiguous person.

  “Hello..?”

  “Where is everyone?"

  “Who are you?”

  The figure did not move.

  The off put Ernst began to tense up as he did not receive a response from the person.

  His legs and arms were trembling with fear and anticipation due to the mysterious man’s unknown intentions.

  Suddenly, he felt something hit his leg.

  Floating in the water was a brown, thin object. Although stained with the viscous black liquid, Ernst reached down while keeping his eyes on the man to ensure he did not escape his vision.

  He picked up the thin fabric that was not dripping with the tar-like substance. Slowly, it revealed its true colour—a dark brown.

  Upon closer inspection, he Ernst could tell it was made of fabric, indicating it might have been a piece of clothing.

  Some sort of jacket..?

  Although half of his focus was on the still man who had yet to move or say anything, something began to nag at the back of Ernst’s head. He felt a strange familiarity when looking at the stained piece of clothing.

  Droplets of the obscure liquid continued to slowly slide down the leathery object.

  A rectangular-shaped tag could be seen at its collar. Although it had been dirtied, Ernst could vaguely make out some of the writing.

  The young man rubbed his thumb across the text in hopes of seeing who it belonged to. The letters began to be clearer as whites began to reveal themselves.

  “Chri…”

  His heart began to pound.

  “...”

  Ernst began to find it difficult to breathe.

  Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.

  It felt as if he had been enlightened upon reading only a portion of the owner’s name.

  Looking back at the man who was standing in front of him, the fog began to clear. Crawling away from the figure’s skin, Ernst could finally make out the man’s facial features.

  Christopher…There stood his old friend whom he had seen only a few days ago. While he was not wearing his vest, his appearance looked as it should from head to toe. However, one characteristic was not present as Ernst stared at him in a befuddled manner. The mature man did not show any signs of his usual warmth.

  Staring blankly at Ernst, there were no signs of emotion plastered on old Christopher’s face.

  “Old man? Where have you been? Where is everyone?”

  His mouth twitched nervously as he choked on his words while speaking. He could not help but let out his most desired questions to be answered all at once.

  Eerily, the old man continued to stare at Ernst as if he were not there at all.

  Eventually, voices could be heard from the outer edges of the plaza.

  “Ha ha ha!"

  “Ha ha ha!"

  “Ha ha ha!”

  Laughing echoed throughout the area, surrounding the two at its center.

  Whose there?! … Ernst tensed up with his fingers turning cold. The laughter continued to increase in volume, seemingly getting closer. Despite the intensity in volume, no one else other than Christopher and himself was present.

  While he wanted to look around him, he felt that if he took his eyes off Christopher, he would suddenly disappear.

  Why are people here now?

  Ernst was left confused as to why everything he had experienced so far was happening at this moment.

  With no sign of warning, a woman’s voice whispered in his ear.

  “She knows.”

  A cold chill ran down his spine.

  Ernst jerked his head to his left to see who had spoken to him, but as one would expect, no one was there. The voice sounded familiar; however, Ernst could not determine who it belonged to.

  Who was that…?

  “She knows.”

  The same words that he had just heard had been said again, however, by a man’s voice.

  Looking back at Christopher, the old man’s body began to tremble.

  His mouth twitched again as he seemingly struggled to speak.

  “She knows.”

  His trembling grew in intensity. The old man’s arms and legs wriggled in the air. What started as light shaking was now a violent spasm.

  His eyes and mouth curled with a smile. However, it did not emanate his usual loving nature. Rather than revealing a sense of care and warmth, Ernst was left paralyzed at the sight of his friend. Christopher’s expression looked more sinister than affectionate.

  “Old man! Old man!” Ernst called out to him in hopes of trying to snap him out of the seizure-like daze he seemed to be in.

  Please…stop this…

  His friend seemed to be in so much pain, it was only natural that Ernst was fearful for not only his own safety, but the well-being of a person he had known for so long.

  “She knows, boy! She knows!

  “Ha ha ha ha ha!” Life seemed to possess the old Christopher, although he did not resemble the personality that Ernst had seen all his life.

  Madness had seemed to consume the old man to the point of him being unrecognizable. To Ernst, it was as if he were possessed by a demon.

  At some point, Ernst noticed that the texture of the black liquid he had been stepping in had grown less viscous.

  His eyes fall back down at his feet. Instead of the tar-like substance, was a pool of dark red.

  The young man nearly tripped as he stumbled back in shock. Feeling the architecture of the fountain on his back, he raised his legs out of the red substance.

  Blood..? One word appeared in his head.

  Ernst’s vision became dizzy.

  The vest he held in his hand did not feel as it should have.

  Then, something slipped through his fingers.

  A small pocket knife slowly dropped into the fountain of crimson.

  When did I… Ernst felt a wave of different emotions well up inside of him. He could not tell what was happening to him at this moment. Things were changing all too quickly for him to be able to process the horror he was facing.

  “Christopher!” Ernst yelled at his friend once more, without the use of his familiar nickname. “What is happening?! Please! Snap out of it!”

  The old man slowly walked toward the fountain, breaking away from the mist that had remained calm throughout the chaos.

  Only a few inches away from Ernst, the sinister grin that had formed earlier remained plastered on his face.

  Then, he bent down, digging his hand into the pond of blood.

  The terrified Ernst stumbled back as he watched him do this.

  Does he want the pocket knife back? Ernst remained perplexed by Christopher’s estranged actions.

  His armwhichat was now soaked in red, slowly resurfaced from the fountain.

  The pocket knife, now in his dirtied hands, was handed back to Ernst.

  “You want me to take it…?”

  Confused, Ernst hesitantly reached out to him.

  Suddenly, Christopher grabbed hold of his arm, unwilling to let go.

  “Old man, you’re scaring me.”

  Ernst’s instincts roared at him to break free from his friend’s grasp.

  With the hand that was holding the switchblade, Christopher shoved it into Ernst’s palm.

  The eerie smile continued to cause Ernst to feel weak.

  “She knows, boy.”

  Ernst mustering up as much of his composure as he could, swallowed his fear, asking what the crazed Christopher was talking about.

  “Who…who are you talking about…?”

  Ernst furrowed his brow while staring down what he would now consider an imposter.

  Wordlessly, the stranger unsheathed the blade of the pocket knife with his fingers.

  With great strength, he clutched onto Ernst’s arm with both of his hands.

  Then, something happened that the young man was not expecting.

  With a devilish grin, he walked forward, plunging his chest directly into the sharp tip.

  ?!... Ernst could not think of the sight of the Christopher imposter’s actions.

  “Stop!”

  The sight was too much to witness. His brain buzzed. Ernst could not help but let out a cry for the man to put a halt to his gruesome action.

  Despite being pierced in the stomach, he showed no signs of agony.

  Slowly retracting his body from Ernst’s arms, which were still tightly clutched, he suddenly jerked himself back into the knife.

  Ernst nagged at his arm with all his might in a bid to escape the man.

  “Let go! Let me go!”

  Laughter continued to seemingly mock tpathetic-lookinging young man from afar.

  “What’s so funny?!

  “Show yourself, you fools!”

  Fear had turned into rage. The young man did not find this particular set-up humorous whatsoever.

  Then, the man who resembled Christopher suddenly let go.

  Falling into the fountain, Ernst looked at him.

  He now had a deep flesh wound in his abdomen. Blood gushed and leaked through his clothing.

  His mouth wriggled as if he was struggling to say something to Ernst, who was now speechless on the ground.

  “You did this.”

  The tone the stranger used was much similar to the Christopher he had known. No longer grinning, blood streamed down the sides of his mouth.

  After coughing a few times, he fell backward, creating a resounding thud.

  Ernst raised his brow in surprise. Just like that, the individual was no longer a threat. However, the horrific and graphic sequence still left a lasting impression on him.

  With no answers, Ernst could simply act according to instinct.

  As if he were possessed, he thoughtlessly raised the hand that held the switchblade and observed it once more. The blade with droplets of blood sliding down its metal reflected Ernst’s tired eyes.

  Turning its edge to his throat, he drove it into his Adam's apple.

  Gasp

  Opening his eyes, he saw a familiar ceiling.

  Another nightmare…