‘The Blade Behind Souls’ by Yusra Nizam
As I stared at the knife that I had somehow been able to shove in my mother's flesh, half of its blade shone in the pale moonlight, making the remaining blade sticking out gleam in a way that made my stomach twist. I looked at my trembling, shaking hands covered in the dark residue that splurged and splattered out of her now lifeless body - her lungs had gurgled with the blood, which grew quieter and quieter until the pouring of the substance was completely silent. Too silent. Her face was as pale as a ghost's reflection and her eyes were frozen. Frozen like it seemed to hold the regret, the fear, and the immense, yet unexpected betrayal the heavy knife and my shivering hands seemed to carry.
The sky was filled with what looked like a vastly thick, inky shade of darkness that floated in the sky. It was as dark as a black hole that looked like it could swallow anything in its path. I could feel the ferocious howling of the wind as it twisted and turned its direction unpredictably. It caused the only few remaining leaves which were amber tinted to gently rustle and shuffle in a chorus.
However, the power of seizing control, the power of gaining power, lit something inside me that day. As Mr Ashcroft sat me down in his dark, intimidating office, shuffling and counting cash as he spoke.
' Power, shall be seized by getting rid of, child,' he said, slowly but with effect, ' It will take immense courage, ' he said while slamming down the heap of cash in front of me, on the old, wooden table. ' So are you going to do it?'
I hesitated, but as his words lingered and echoed over and over again, banging against my head, something within me lit up and my heart spoke before I could think.
Out of nowhere, I found myself nodding and then picked up the heavy knife I had been given.
Mr Ashcroft noticed me before my parents. I had to sleep in cold alleyways, was blamed for my sister's death which was only caused by their neglect, and left abandoned, forgotten and hopeless. I decided to pick up the knife, to end it, once and for all.
Thinking about it as I continued staring at her body, made my lips curl into smirk, a tight one, a real one. I could feel a wave of satisfaction as I smelt the metallic smell of blood which lingered around me, so strong that I could barely smell the remains of my cigarette in the inside pocket of my torn, ragged jacket. Without being fully aware of it at first, I let out the biggest laugh that continued for minutes, breaking the eerie silence that built up, silencing the wind, silencing the rustling. I hadn't laughed like that in ages. I had barely laughed at all in a long time - the sound if it felt like a glimpse of hope, that maybe the plan was actually working. I felt so energized, and
so… alive.
Out of nowhere, footsteps could be heard, thumping against the old creaking wooden floorboards. It seemed like they were getting closer, I was sure of it. The door burst open, and there my father stood, frozen with a mix of terror, anger and mostly fear. The sight of it felt so refreshing to see – I could feel the laughing and screaming inside of me. His eyes wondered around the room, still processing what might or might not have happened. Nothing, just nothing. His eyes shifted towards me, looking at my bloodied hands, the scattered splats of the red substance on my face and the limp, lump of dead flesh which lay next to the window, a pool of dark redness surrounding it.
I could see him, slowly but surely coming closer, too close. In a rush of panic, my feet moved abruptly, towards the body. Whipping out the knife out of her flesh, I charged towards my father as he stood dead in his tracks, frozen as if he couldn't move, even if he wanted to. While holding the knife which seemed confusingly heavier than before, I used all my might and plunged the blade through his neck.
He let out a deafening, groaning scream, satisfying my soul even more, as he collapsed on to the crisp, white sheets that lay near beside him, the blood darkening them quicker than I had expected it to be.
His gruelling scream echoed in me, again and again, the sound of it pleasing me again - until the pattering of the rain took place. The stench of blood was much stronger now, it was the only stench I loved, I loved so much, I could drink buckets and buckets of it, which reminded me I hadn't eaten anything in days. As the smell grew more powerful, so did my urge to pick up that knife and stab it into the flesh, through their now corrupt clothes, over and over again, sliding it in and out, in and out, for both mother and father, It felt like the most soul refreshing thing I had done in a while.
Now that the job was done, I still remained in the room, soaking up what had just happened, the overwhelmingly large amount of satisfaction took some time to settle in. I wiped the fresh blood that landed near my mouth, as I felt my mouth curl up into a much bigger smile, and I could feel my eyes light up. I had done it, now I am free, and best of all, now I can collect the heap of money, that waited for me, somewhere.
My arms were sore, I was tired yet inside I was content, the happiness still vibrant. I started taking steps to towards the door. Outside the door and I was in the hallway I seemed to remember walking in years ago. The brittle, decaying walls of the mansion covered in thick layers of moss that clung on to the falling structure, the windows that looked like hadn't been cleaned in years and the old, corrupt furniture stood inside weakly.
I lay my feet on the wooden floor boards; every time I did, the floorboard moaned louder and louder, until I reached the door at the end of the hallway that seemed like was waiting for my specific presence after so many years. Turning and twisting the stiff door knob again and again, it finally blasted open.
I instantly remembered everything. The bed I slept in was neatly tidied, looking as if it hadn't been touched in ages (it probably has never been touched ever since I no longer slept there). The table was clear of mess - it was so tidied that I had to question if I had actually left it in that state. The carpet on the floor was comfortably warm as my feet contacted it. As I looked through the window while still standing near the door frame the rain quietened, even the wind had stopped - it felt silent, too silent once again.
I could smell the smell I remember from years ago. It gave me a wave of nostalgia like the smell itself had unlocked deep memories that I had probably buried in the deep edge of my heart.
I wasn't sure of it. A silhouette covered in a draping pale cloth seemed to float around, inside, outside, somewhere. It suddenly made my heart beat louder and sweat started running down my face. This wasn't supposed to be happening and I didn't even know why. Now another one was found, this time taller and distorted and unclear but I knew it wasn't something normal. It was as if it was creeping around my room. It seemed like it kept coming towards me, coming closer and closer.
I turned around to see that the door had blended into the wall, the same white plaster, as if the door was never there in the first place.
My blood ran cold. I froze. I couldn't move. There was no escape now.
As I turned myself back around, the only thing I could focus my eyes on was the jet black figure standing in front of my eyes. It only had neon red eyes that stared into my soul so deeply it seemed like it could cut steel, but the shape of the body seemed questionably similar to my father's, now it was just the colour of nothingness, standing in front of me.
On the side, the distorted figure stood, possessing the body of my mother. I could tell it was my mother, it was just her body that was misrepresented. The small veiled creature floated around swiftly, and was inside the bedroom, until it stopped and came over to stare at me like the other ones. The more I stared into this one, the more it reminded me of my younger sister, even though it was covered and shielded.
The more they stared at me, the more I stared at them, like time was frozen. Their pupils seemed like they were piercing my insides – it looked sharper than the knife I held. I thought their laser like eyes could cut me into pieces.
A stinging chill jolted up my spine until it reached my shoulders, I could feel my face feel paler, even paler then my dead mother's face and the back of shirt clung on to my back harder than ever.
However, they weren't even doing anything, except being overwhelmingly intimidating.
Until, the floor started vibrating, vibrating intensely. Bits of the floor rose up and out of nowhere a storm broke out outside as the rain flooded down the clouds while the wind howled even louder and even more ferociously.
Dark red substance, bled out through the corners of the walls until it reached halfway and more down the white plaster hastily. Everything was so loud that I didn't even realise how heavy and fast my breathing was. My heart beat was now louder, a lot louder; it felt like it could jump out of my chest any second as I dripped in sweat.
In the end, I heard a booming crunch from behind me. Before my hopeless self could react, thorny, thick vines and cold, metal chains burst out of the wall that had now somehow turned into a wall, wrapping around my feeble body. The thorns on the vines, sharply scratched my skin while the chains prevented any movement, gripping against my limbs as tight as a lock on a coffin.
Thick, hot smoke poured in to the room from an unknown place filling up the room to a point where I could barely see anything. Coughing and suffocating in the smoke. I could hear the laughing that belonged to my sister repeating in my head again and again. My mother's singing and my father's laughter, all echoing and fading.
Now I was suffering. It was a feeling that I had never felt. As I felt my eyes get heavier, it felt like the three silhouettes in front of me were smiling, smiling without stopping as if they were enjoying seeing me suffer. I look to the window again.
Mr Ashcroft stood there with the endless amount of cash in his hand that I was supposed to collect, waving it as he laughed. The sound was muffled, but I could hear it.
My eyes were slowly closing. My head was spinning. Everything was confusing. All the sounds around me were all merging into one another. My vision grew more distorted, like all the colours were mixing as well in a way that made me even more dizzy.
My eyes were closing. Pitch blackness arrived. Silence.
Was this worth it?