Bloody Nose: A short story
Its warm and poring rather quickly from my nose. Fingers go to my eyes and its there too, seeping steadily out. Out from where it's supposed to be, in my cage pumping, hidden far away and safe from all to see.
I hit my head……. its pulsing, counting the seconds for me, one, two, and three. The stairs are slick, this I notice as I try to stand. Under me a warm oiled slide with jutted corners for each step, I keep falling back to it. There should be a shock when I fall but it’s not there, just a cloud to compress right into, a puff of smoke my mind can’t warp around.
No no. This is all wrong….. I almost forgot, but my head reminded me, each beat getting louder and louder bringing me back to the surface. My hands are wet and covered scarlet too, I see that now. I want to scream, but I settle on using my hands to feel the details of my face, streaking from one side to the other until it starts to hurt.
I try to think back, but the past won’t come, my memories a no show, leaving me in the present at these stairs. Oh yes! The stairs! I have to reach the top, I hit my head and it's all wrong, at the top I can make a call on my…. on my…. I’ll make a call at the top for help.
But the stairs, fuck the stairs! They’re too slick to go up, they were always dry before, dry each day, each night, until I fell asleep after I opened the door. Next time I opened my eyes it was in the middle of this trick, a real dirty trick too, a filthy horrible joke even! Don’t they know I'll have to clean it all up, the Uber had been gone for ages now or I would shout, yell as loud as I could to get him to help, plead, throw anything at him to make this all stop.
Throughout this fit I slipped further down, there is nothing to grab onto. That’s not right, there is something, there should be. My arms are flailing around, feeling about until Its there, a familiar wooden rod nailed to the wall, guiding my way, all the way to the top. My arms weak before grew tense with resolve, they wrap around the wood and pull, one step than another, time passes and I’m closer. The pulse began to ring now, a shrill bell placed inside my head, but the blood and the bell are just hurdles, trying to keep me from the top. It’s trying to make friends with me, the blood. Warm and burning across my chest, tightly caked over my eyes, and dirtying my hands. Leave me be! Leave me be! I’m almost done, almost safe from your embrace.
I do get to the top, eventually. Against the wall I slump down and rest. I’m being tickled begged for attention, so I give in and watch it, watch it crawl down my legs, down down it goes, back to those steps while I take a break at home base. I’ve finally calmed down, no reason to rush, I’m here.
Lowering myself on my back I choke to catch my breath, once I do I can laugh, a garbled wheeze rushing out, it’s funny, funny that this time I’m thankful for the blood. Its keeping me warm, away from the chill of the top of the stairs, I shiver still sure, but its so warm I can see it, a blanket being pulled over me, up my legs, around my arms, over my chest. A pitch black caccoon, a tight web for me to get my rest.
Thank you for reading ! This little horror story stemmed from a dream I had of me bleeding out on the staircase of my childhood home.
Anyway appreciate the read, another piece close to horror below!
