Category : Stories

Sub Category : Horror

I was dreaming in the bed my father had crafted for me when I was awoken by my mother's peircing screams. They washed over me the same way ice cold water would have, leaving my body frozen where it lie. I wondered if it was fear keeping me or if something unknown had me bound me to this bed. Mother had told me that things such as monsters were only real in storybooks, but my childish brain didn't completely trust that as fact. I knew my  father didn't believe that either due to all of the strange literature he had collected in the left top corner of our family book shelf. All these books seemed to solely revolve around odd creatures, demons, and other things I was told were only fiction.
I managed a hard swallow as I heard heavy, unfamiliar footsteps coming near my dark attic bedroom. 
The steps grew louder as they came closer, and even the full moons light seemed to vanish.
Although I was blind to whatever or whoever had made way into my room. I could feel an overwhelming cold and heavy pressure weighing down on me.
Still unable to move, I tried to breathe as the weight pressing on my small body quickly began to increase.
It became incredibly painful, so much, so I eventually lost consciousness. When I woke up, I was not in my bed. In fact, I wasn't sure where I was, but it looked and smelt familiar in a way I couldn't quite put my finger on. In front of me were large polished pieces of wood, and as I turned around, I saw what looked like ginormous books..
 
Then it hit me, and the icey feeling in my veins returned. The smell was the sent of our family bookshelf. I loved the smell of an old book. It comforted me, and I knew it was a smell I would never mistake. Especially these old books. I knew them well.

I squeezed my eyes shut and quickly spun around, confused and drowning in my own panic. When I finally stood still again, I reopened my eyes to see a dimly lit kitchen and dining room. It looked like my home, but everything was so large I didn't understand how it could be. 
Until the morning was able to fully illuminate the home, I just sat there trying to find out what was happening and why, but the sunlight flooding the dining room left more on the floor to be discovered.
My mother and father both lied dead only feet away from the book shelf where I stood. There was no blood, and their eyes had been stolen from the sockets. I gasped and grabbed at my own eyes as they flooded with tears. I ran to the back wall of the book shelf and hid myself in the shadows.
Everything hit me at once. My family was dead, I was completely alone, and most confusing of all was my house, had not become giant, nor my now lifeless family like  I had first thought... 
I had just become unbelievably tiny.