HUNGRY FOR NEW HORROR?

Enjoy this sneak peek from our latest book, BLOODSHOT EYES

That ‘scritching’ sound. Very light. Barely audible. Like someone lightly picking their nails over silk. That’s what woke me up, believe it or not.

 

In the pitch blackness of my tent, I pull the sleeping bag closer around me, not quite ready to move until I know what the hell that thing is making that ‘scritching’’ sound.

 

I decided to spend my summer vacation hiking in Brazil. I’ve only been out here in its glorious wilderness for a few days, and it is quite breathtaking. But, my trip so far hasn’t been without some annoyance. The first night I made camp, I thought I was going to go crazy at the constant screeching of some damned owl that had perched itself high above my tent. All fucking night long: SCREEEECH!!! SCREEEECH!!!

 

Fuck you, bird!

 

I was hoping tonight would be different. I pitched camp under a rock overhang. Earlier this afternoon, I hiked for about five hours and stopped in a rocky area. I decided to camp out here where no damned birds would keep me up half the night. Plus, there was a strong possibility for rain, so the rock overhang would be a perfect cover.

 

By the time I bedded down, there was a full moon in a sky that was clear for as far as the eye could see. I went ahead and pitched my tent out under the beautifully moonlit, wide open, night sky.

So, now I’m awake because of a little ‘scritching’. Actually, now it’s a lot of ‘scritching’. And it’s becoming more and more constant. When I first heard it, it was faint, but the more awake I’ve become, the more I realize that it’s all around me.

 

It sounds like the wind is blowing small pebbles or loose sand against my tent.

 

Through sleepy eyes, I think I can see the skin of the tent moving.

 

I peek at my watch. It’s one o’clock in the morning.

 

I’ve only been asleep for just over an hour. The moon should be high and bright enough for me to see through my tent, but it’s nearly pitch black in here.

 

And what the hell is that ‘scritching’?!

 

Wait, something is moving along the outside of my tent. Whatever it is has covered the entire outer skin. That’s where the ‘scritching’ is coming from. It’s everywhere.

 

As I scan the pitch blackness of my tent, I can make out the glow of the moon every few seconds. But, then, it disappears once again for a moment, obscured by the moving veil of whatever the hell is ‘scritching’ all over the outside of my tent.

 

It’s really creeping me out. In fact, it’s making my skin crawl. I can feel my legs tingling as the feeling moves up my calves and right up to my knees. Now, the feeling is creeping up my thighs. Such a distinct feeling. It’s giving me goosebumps. I never knew fear could produce such a sensation. It’s as if something is actually crawling up my legs.

 

As I stare through the darkness at the thin walls of my tent, I feel the involuntary creeping sensation make its way up my neck and over my scalp. Something has truly gotten a hold of me. I have to get my fear under control.

 

I reach outside of my sleeping bag, and my fingers find the power button of my electric lantern. Maybe the light from within my tent will scare the ‘scritching’ away.

 

I turn it on in an effort to drown my fear once and for all.

 

In the near blackness of the tent, the light isn’t a very welcome guest, at first.

 

My eyes adjust.

 

I immediately know that the ‘scritching’ on the skin of my tent isn’t a thing. It’s dozens of things. Hundreds of things! Some of them as big as my hand!

 

Oh God! They’ve swarmed and covered my tent! So many of them that they’ve actually blocked out the moonlight! What the fuck?!

 

It hasn’t been fear making my skin crawl! It’s them!

 

They’re crawling up my legs.

 

They’re creeping up my neck and covering my scalp!

 

Shit! I must have pitched my tent right on top of their nest, and now, they’ve covered it, and me, in a giant web!

 

I need to get the fuck out of here!

 

But, I can’t move. Jesus Christ, why can’t I move? More fear?

 

No, it’s not fear. I just felt another one.

 

OW! Fuck! They’re biting me!

 

I can’t move my hand! I can’t wiggle my toes!

 

They’re all over my face!

 

I know I can scream, but I don’t dare open my mouth.

 

One of them is trying to crawl up my nose. Shit! Shit! I can’t stop it.

 

I can’t breathe, you eight-legged fuck!

 

I open my mouth to take a breath.

 

I just sucked one of them in!

 

Another one follows!

 

And another!

 

Their legs tickle the roof of my mouth.

 

One of them is trying to crawl down my throat!

 

Shit! I think one just bit my tongue.

 

I can’t breathe!

 

I CAN’T BREATHE!!!

 

I CAN’T...

"SCRITCHING"

© 2019 Blood Type H. 

RSS Feed
  • Twitter Basic Square
  • Google+ Social Icon
  • LinkedIn Social Icon
  • Facebook Basic Square
This site was designed with the
.com
website builder. Create your website today.
Start Now