Book Synopsis
Book Tags
Donation Rankings
Comment
0 Comments
You May Also Like
墨書 Inktalez
Ethan felt a deep sense of helplessness surge from within, no matter how much he struggled or slapped himself, he could not escape this bizarre dream. Everything around him felt so real, unshakable. He finally gave up resisting, his legs buckled, and he slumped helplessly onto the wooden floor, breathing heavily, cold sweat beading on his forehead, his entire body trembling slightly.
He looked around, his gaze slowly sweeping over the surrounding furniture, and then he confirmed once again that this was indeed the wooden house from his childhood. Every detail matched perfectly with his memories from when he was seven. The cracks in the walls, the marks on the table, even the slightly slanted floor were just as they had been when he was a child. This place was not just a dream; it was a nightmare from his childhood.
His eyes inadvertently drifted to the corner of the room where an old rocking chair stood, facing away from him. He was all too familiar with that chair. Back then, he would always sit there, staring out into the darkness outside, and that chair always made him feel uneasy. It shouldn’t move, but at this moment, it swayed gently in a rhythmic motion, creaking softly as if someone invisible were sitting in it.
Ethan's heart raced again, a dull pain gripping his chest. He knew there shouldn't be anyone here; this was just a dream, but the rocking of the chair… it was too strange. Each time the chair tilted back, he could hear the muffled sound of old wood creaking as if someone were gently rocking in it.
He stared at the chair, unable to look away while feeling an overwhelming sense of resistance inside him. He didn’t dare approach it or even check it out. The chair's movements were so natural and rhythmic, as if someone unseen was sitting there, gently swaying. It filled him with an invisible pressure, like a pair of unseen eyes watching him intently from that rocking chair, coldly observing his every move.
"This isn’t real… this is just a dream…" Ethan kept telling himself in his mind, but those words felt incredibly hollow and couldn’t truly soothe his inner fear. His breathing grew more rapid; his hands gripped the floor tightly beneath him, yet the rocking chair continued its slow sway as if some eerie ritual were pulling him deeper into the dream.
He feared that if he looked any longer, that "person" in the rocking chair would suddenly turn around to face him. And at that moment, he would be unable to escape.
Just as Ethan felt he might suffocate from anxiety, a small figure suddenly emerged from the kitchen behind him. Ethan froze, his eyes widening; his heart nearly stopped—there stood a little boy wearing the blue and white pajamas he used to wear as a child, walking with a lively yet slightly sleepy gait.
Ethan's breath caught in his throat as a bone-deep fear surged within him because that boy… was himself. His younger self!
The boy rubbed his sleepy eyes and with an innocent pout broke the silence: "Grandma, I'm so hungry! Can I have some cookies?" His voice sounded particularly real and familiar in that eerie wooden house as if time had reversed and pulled Ethan back to that night when he was seven.
However, there was no response from the kitchen. Ethan stared in terror at this little boy—his own childhood—his memories standing before him in such an inexplicable way. His mind was a whirlwind; reason told him this was impossible, yet what lay before him felt so vivid as if dreams and reality had intertwined at this moment.
The little boy seemed unaware of Ethan’s presence and continued toward the slowly swaying rocking chair. His steps were light and natural as if searching for family at home, completely oblivious to the eerie atmosphere enveloping the room. The boy's gaze fixated on the rocking chair as if expecting to find his Grandma there.
"Grandma?" the boy called softly as he stepped toward the rocking chair.
At that moment, Ethan's heart nearly exploded. He knew there shouldn't be anyone in that chair, yet he couldn't predict what horrifying event would unfold next. Cold sweat trickled down his forehead, and his entire body felt frozen, but his fear wouldn't allow him to remain silent. Suddenly, he let out a terrified scream, "No! Don't go near there!"
Ethan's voice echoed through the cabin, shaking the entire room with extreme fear and helplessness. His voice was hoarse and desperate, almost tearing through the air.
However, the boy remained oblivious, his steps unwavering as he fixed his gaze on the rocking chair that swayed rhythmically, moving closer and closer to the unknown darkness.
Ethan's heart raced uncontrollably; he couldn't stop what was happening, couldn't change the fate of his childhood, nor could he pull back the boy who was about to plunge into unknown terror. He could only watch helplessly as the boy approached the chair, fear wrapping around him like an abyss, suffocating him.
The little boy moved closer to the rocking chair, continuously calling out, "Grandma, Grandma..." His voice grew nearer and lower, as if walking deeper into a dream's abyss. Ethan knew he couldn't prevent this; the ending of this nightmare had long been predetermined. It felt as if a heavy stone pressed against his chest, making every breath painful and filled with despair.
"No..." Ethan cried out in desperation within himself, but he knew there was no way to alter the course of this nightmare. Every detail felt so familiar; it was something he had already experienced—his younger self, that eerie rocking chair, and the "Grandma" he should never have seen again. Ethan painfully closed his eyes, trying to escape what was about to happen next, but he could clearly hear the boy's footsteps come to a halt, causing his heart to leap into his throat.
The boy stopped in front of the rocking chair, and Ethan's fear surged like a tidal wave. He took a deep breath, eyes tightly shut, body tense as if one more glance would allow that nightmarish memory to consume him entirely.
"Grandma?" The boy's voice became weaker now, tinged with unease and confusion.
Ethan could no longer hold back; he slowly opened his eyes to see the boy standing in front of the rocking chair, staring blankly and lost. The once lively face was now filled with bewilderment and terror. The boy's gaze was fixed on the chair but seemed unable to move another step, as if sensing something was terribly wrong.
Ethan felt a tearing pain in his heart as he cautiously approached the boy. Each step felt heavy as if traversing through his deepest fears. When he reached the boy's side, that inescapable nightmare materialized before him once more—sitting in the rocking chair was Grandma, familiar yet lifeless. Her body was stiff as wood, her complexion pale as wax with not a trace of vitality. Her eyes were half-opened and dull, expressionless as if she had long since passed away.
Ethan's heart sank suddenly; breathing became difficult. This was his deepest fear, his darkest memory. Grandma's cold corpse loomed like a shadow from a nightmare, mercilessly extending its dark claws toward him. This was an image from his childhood that he could never escape; now it appeared before him once again.
The little boy stood to the side, his eyes vacant and helpless, unsure of how to react. He did not know that Grandma had long since passed away, nor could he comprehend the bizarre situation unfolding before him. Ethan looked at the boy, seeing his own childhood ignorance and fear reflected in him— that feeling of isolation and helplessness exploded within his heart once more, as if he had been pushed back into the abyss of his childhood.
Comment 0 Comment Count