Psycho Screams Novels & Stories

Whoosh… Crack… Smack… Whoosh… Crack… Smack… Drip… Whoosh… Crack… Smack… Drip… Whoosh… Crack… Smack… SCREAM!… I tried to hold in that scream but as the iron-infused leather whip that’s now laced with a weak version of our Prides Deaths Door serum lashed at my sore, bloody and damaged back, cutting into more of my skin as Graves pulled it back this time, I just couldn’t.

Quenten Yilmaz: Blood. Violence. Gut-wrenching, paralyzing screams. They follow me everywhere, including in my sleep. It’s like a reel of snippets flashing before my very eyes. Splatters of blood paint the walls. Screams of terror intertwine and become a single, continuous harmony of devastation that rings in my ears. Flashing balls of light ignite in the dark as illuminated bullets slice through the air, hitting everything in their path. Men drop to the ground swiftly, followed by a hush of silence.

"Reflect it. Throw the noise back ." Understanding flickers in their detached eyes. A spark. They raise the jagged piece of Mirror. It catches the chaotic, pulsing light of the sanctuary, the warped colors bleeding in from outside. For a second, nothing. Then… a high-pitched screech , like feedback magnified a thousandfold, erupts from the shard. Not directed at me. Outwards. Into the psychic maelstrom.

I gave her a small smile. " I saw Mofe walking out, is all good?" I nod. "She went to the bathroom". "Okay, then, I'll be back soon". I nod and out my airpods on, my phone dinged. I clicked on the album by Joeboy that Tochi shared with me on Spotify. The beat flooded my ears making me a sudden saccharine rush. I felt a sudden relieve something i haven't felt in totality since that night after socials but that was soon gone when from the wall facing me emerged Lola's ghost. Everything around her was a blur, she was the only clear thing in sight. She had let her high bun out in a fro. Do ghosts change their looks?

Now get moving! The sheer determination in her voice makes me think she might have finally been on my side but of course she goes back to the demanding cold voice. I shake my head as I drown out the panicking voice of my subconscious, I need to focus without any distractions. I increase my pace as the screeching starts up again but now it sounds much closer than before, dammit how could I have let my guard down! Because you’re a god damn idiot now hurry up and move! I sprint as the shrieks go from one to multiple in seconds how many of them are there? How can I escape a pack of these things?

When the drawer rolled out, I saw the glint of steel. I launched myself at him and tackled him to the floor. He flipped into his back and punched at my head. "Get off me, you psycho!" he yelled. I grabbed my second knife from my back pocket and buried it in his thigh muscle up to the hilt. He screamed until I punched his jaw out of the socket. Then I jammed a sock from the floor in his mouth. He clawed and hit me. His fingers reached for the drawer over his head.

Not the kind of scream that comes from terror, but the kind that claws its way out of you when your mind decides to betray you, when it tortures you with a memory you want to bury but can't. The kind of scream that makes you feel small, helpless, and betrayed by your own body. People call it a nightmare, as if giving it a name somehow makes it poetic. But there's nothing poetic about it. Eventually, her screams quietened down, I didn't move, didn't dare acknowledge it. I pretended to sleep until I finally drifted off for real.

Ryan raised the chair in his hands, and with a swift motion, brought it down on me, his eyes cold as they met mine. I was paralyzed by the fear in my eyes, unable to move. "Ah!" The pain shot through me like a jolt of electricity, and I couldn't contain the blood-curdling scream that escaped my lips. My fingers were crushed instantly, mangled and bleeding, as I stared at them in disbelief. The physical pain, sharp and intense, barely compared to the crushing weight in my chest.

The calm guy said. I was still in my previous position. Didn’t move a muscle. I wonder what they are going to do next. The bars open, I could tell from the sound. My eyes were closed but I could still sense two shadows standing in front of me. “I can’t believe we caught him alive. I heard a lot about this guy before and he is a fucking psycho.” The calm guy said and the other one sounded even panic. “Hurry! I don’t want to end up like Eric! It could be that he was awake by now.”

The scream is even louder now and it sounds like it's coming from inside my head. Echoing off my bedroom walls, the sound scares me so much that when the covers come off, I just sit and stare at Charlie as he peers at me. This time, he climbs on the bed and his fangs are dripping wet. His smile fills me with so much dredd that I wish I had run out of the room when I first heard him tonight.