(I originally wrote this for a scary story contest on Chilling Tales for Dark Nights. It didn’t win, but I still like it anyway ^_^)
I don’t believe. It’s not real. I don’t believe.
I repeat this over and over in my head, like a mantra, but still the memories, the dreams persist unabated. She comes to me in my dreams. The Gray Woman. Faceless, spine bent into unnatural curves and conformations, drab skirt hanging like a bell around tall, emaciated legs. Reaching, always reaching towards me from the dark, a basket of oozing fungi hanging from her groping arm. I run as if through molasses between the shadowy silhouettes of the trees, bending and shifting as if racked by a gale, though the air is stiflingly thick and still. Every night, the same dream, haunting me, causing me to awaken tense and unrested.
I wouldn’t complain, though, if it were just the dreams. I could deal with the dreams. What bothers me most is when they bleed into reality. When I see the silhouette of the Gray Woman pass across a window, or disappear around a corner in front of me. When I see her out of the corner of my eye in broad daylight, drifting through the city crowd, or standing in an alley, hunched over, faceless visage leering at me from the shadows. (more…)