Your Worst Nightmare
A former Ficleteer...
He squirmed and screamed but he wasn't going anywhere. My left arm was securely locked around his upper body. The claws of my left hand had perforated his upper abdomen and were interlocked with his lower ribs. With my right hand, I slowly shredded his skin and flesh.
"Who are you?" he managed between screams.
"I'm literally your worst nightmare," I laughed.
"Why..."
"It's the job. It's not personal."
The scenery around us flickered and shifted but I waited. He continued to scream. He kept trying to escape my death grip, but it wasn't going to happen.
"C'mon," I muttered, lengthening my claws just a bit and digging them in deeper. I jammed my fangs into his neck.
The scenery began to fade. When the tunnel of light appeared, I threw him into it. The tunnel closed to a pinpoint and then winked out of existence and I faded as well.
Shortly after awaking, I called my client.
"It's done. He died gently in his sleep. Wire the fee to my account."
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Comments (1 so far!)
Average reader rating 5.00/5
Story prompt:
Write a story where a character gets paid to sleep.
- Published 6 years ago and featured 6 years ago.
- Story viewed 15 times and rated 1 times.
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Robert Quick
I don't remember you writing horror all that much back in the day so this was a real, well I was going to say treat but that seems inappropriate given the torture. Like some many good works here, it raises questions that can only be answered by sequels and prequels and such: Is he the only one that can do this? What defense is there? What is his personal cost? Always good to see more work from you.