skeleton

My wife and I had recently decided we wanted a change of pace, and moved to live in the woods. Our house was big enough and was completely removed from the rest of society, secluded and peaceful. As far as we knew, we lived alone out there. A few weeks after moving, I had started to hear a tapping noise coming from outside. I assumed this was from trees outside banging into our walls, as it often got windy out there. Over the course of 2 or so months, the tapping got louder and louder.

We wake up one morning before the sun had risen and I say goodbye to her as she heads off to work. I sit in our room as I listen to her car pull out of our gravel driveway and drive off. A few minutes later, I hear knocking at the door. I'm thinking maybe she had forgotten something, so I answer it. But no one's there. I try to see through the darkness and fog of the early morning out to our driveway, but I don't see anything parked. I look to my left and spot our black dog laying on the veranda playing with his toy, so I assume it was him who had just been scratching on the door. As a soft rain starts to fall, I go back inside.

I close the door. Inside the living room, I hear that familiar tapping on the window, now the loudest I had ever heard it. Like a knock. These taps were too evenly spaced together to have been from any kind of tree being blown about by the wind. The rain is picking up now, coming down hard on my tin roof. Suddenly, from the other wall of the living room I hear that same knock. Outside I see the dark silhouettes of trees surrounding my house thrashing and waving back and forth in the storm's howling wind, and paranoia starts to fill my gut. I try to calm my nerves, reminding myself that I am the only thing out here. As waves of hail and rain come down on my house, I walk back to my bedroom.

I look under the bed, the space between the frame and the floor too small for anything to fit underneath. The closet, full of clothes. Under the desk, nothing but lint and dirt. I go to check behind the curtains. As I start towards the window, I hear footsteps coming from the front porch and my heart starts racing. I pull the curtains back, and peer ever so slightly outside. The sun had started to rise, light creeping across the forest floor. I squint to see who is out there.

A warm wave of relief washes over me as I see my wife and I's dog, toy in mouth, bowing at the front door, his dark coat drenched in mud and rain. He notices me watching him from the window and runs over excitedly, whining at me. His puppy dog eyes put a smile on my face, as I'm reminded that everything is as the way it had always been. I walk back to the front door, but hesitate for a moment. I recall my wife telling me not to let the dog in the house after it had been raining, as he'd get our carpet dirty. But hearing his whines, I tell myself she'd let it go just this once, and I open the door to let him in, quickly shutting it to keep the rain out. I sit down on our doormat and hug his muddy fur as he jumps about in my embrace. He shakes himself clean, now safe inside the warm house. But still his whining quickens, coming out in loud gasps as he drops his toy. The dog turns and takes my hand in his mouth, shaking it urgently. His whines are so loud, it sounds like a faint scream. I pull back from him and look into his beady eyes. As he stares back at me with a fearful expression I try and ask him what's wrong, but he continues to scream. Then his black eyes look somewhere behind me, and his gaze turns wide and white. In the reflection of the door's wood, I see two large, yellow eyes, staring right back at me.
And then I woke up.

----

I'm not the best writer but I tried to capture the absolute terror I felt last night after being awoken by the first real nightmare I've had in years. Couldn't go back to sleep after this one.

My wife and I had recently decided we wanted a change of pace, and moved to live in the woods. Our house was big enough and was completely removed from the rest of society, secluded and peaceful. As far as we knew, we lived alone out there. A few weeks after moving, I had started to hear a tapping noise coming from outside. I assumed this was from trees outside banging into our walls, as it often got windy out there. Over the course of 2 or so months, the tapping got louder and louder.

We wake up one morning before the sun had risen and I say goodbye to her as she heads off to work. I sit in our room as I listen to her car pull out of our gravel driveway and drive off. A few minutes later, I hear knocking at the door. I'm thinking maybe she had forgotten something, so I answer it. But no one's there. I try to see through the darkness and fog of the early morning out to our driveway, but I don't see anything parked. I look to my left and spot our black dog laying on the veranda playing with his toy, so I assume it was him who had just been scratching on the door. As a soft rain starts to fall, I go back inside.

I close the door. Inside the living room, I hear that familiar tapping on the window, now the loudest I had ever heard it. Like a knock. These taps were too evenly spaced together to have been from any kind of tree being blown about by the wind. The rain is picking up now, coming down hard on my tin roof. Suddenly, from the other wall of the living room I hear that same knock. Outside I see the dark silhouettes of trees surrounding my house thrashing and waving back and forth in the storm's howling wind, and paranoia starts to fill my gut. I try to calm my nerves, reminding myself that I am the only thing out here. As waves of hail and rain come down on my house, I walk back to my bedroom.

I look under the bed, the space between the frame and the floor too small for anything to fit underneath. The closet, full of clothes. Under the desk, nothing but lint and dirt. I go to check behind the curtains. As I start towards the window, I hear footsteps coming from the front porch and my heart starts racing. I pull the curtains back, and peer ever so slightly outside. The sun had started to rise, light creeping across the forest floor. I squint to see who is out there.

A warm wave of relief washes over me as I see my wife and I's dog, toy in mouth, bowing at the front door, his dark coat drenched in mud and rain. He notices me watching him from the window and runs over excitedly, whining at me. His puppy dog eyes put a smile on my face, as I'm reminded that everything is as the way it had always been. I walk back to the front door, but hesitate for a moment. I recall my wife telling me not to let the dog in the house after it had been raining, as he'd get our carpet dirty. But hearing his whines, I tell myself she'd let it go just this once, and I open the door to let him in, quickly shutting it to keep the rain out. I sit down on our doormat and hug his muddy fur as he jumps about in my embrace. He shakes himself clean, now safe inside the warm house. But still his whining quickens, coming out in loud gasps as he drops his toy. The dog turns and takes my hand in his mouth, shaking it urgently. His whines are so loud, it sounds like a faint scream. I pull back from him and look into his beady eyes. As he stares back at me with a fearful expression I try and ask him what's wrong, but he continues to scream. Then his black eyes look somewhere behind me, and his gaze turns wide and white. In the reflection of the door's wood, I see two large, yellow eyes, staring right back at me.
And then I woke up.

----

I'm not the best writer but I tried to capture the absolute terror I felt last night after being awoken by the first real nightmare I've had in years. Couldn't go back to sleep after this one.

I'm sitting on a couch in my grandmother's old house. Next to me is a boy I feel a faint familiarity towards, and at least a dozen cats. There are cats everywhere, and they can talk. The boy is talking at me and I acknowledge what he's saying with nods and gestures, but I don't engage in conversation, I'm more focused on this house full of talking cats. Their ability to harness the English language is normal to me. There is one cat in particular im talking to, and she's telling me that my grandmother had left all of them here and that they were starving. It's been years since my grandmother had lived there, so I feel incredibly guilty. I ask the cat why they didn't just leave, but I forget what she said in response.

I start walking to the cats' food bowl and a mastiff-looking dog appears from behind me, who can also talk. I fill up both the dogs and the cats food bowls and sit back on the couch with the boy. As I look out the window into the backyard, I see the shadow of a man walking along the hedges. Everyone in the house quietens. The cats seem to know what this is, but I don't. Then, a small jack russell appears from around the corner of the house where the man seems to be standing, and starts sniffing along the hedgeline. Strapped to the jack russell is a backpack seemingly loaded with gadgets, similar to a crude bomb in appearance.

Seeing this, a deep primal fear is now seated within me. I shakily ask the cat who the two are, and then I woke up.

I'm standing in the reception of a large building with my older sister. The building's some sort of mix between a hotel, a mall, an apartment complex and a few other kinds of establishments. Every other inhabitant of this building resembles some kind of humanoid creature. The reception area is a huge hall with gold plated red walls, lined with extremely intricate decorative pillars and skirtings, and the floor has some kind of shiny marble pattern.
After she speaks with the lady at the counter, we make our way to the elevator. Inside the elevator is a person in a grey trench coat and a large black dog, standing in front of a full-wall mirror. I select floor 15, and the dog jumps up and starts pressing all of the buttons to which the trench coat person starts apologising profusely for. After we assure him it's nothing to worry about, we get off at our floor.

Floor 15 is reminiscent of the second floor of a large shopping mall, except every shop is closed and a heavy mist coats the air as moonlight shines in through a fake skylight. I look over a railing into a dark, bottomless pit, and a sense of dread washes over me. My sister and I make our way to the furthest corner of the shopping mall, where I can see bright lights flashing in contrast with the eerie dead mall. The only shop that's open is a casino, alive with loud noises and blinking signs, although I can't see a single person inside. My sister goes in and I wait outside, sitting on a small square couch in the middle of the mall near a few other "people" doing the same. I look at them, some with their heads replaced with eyestalks, some tentacles, as they all stare down at their phones or books. An inactive crane game catches my eye, and I notice there's a dead arcade just across from the casino. I feel completely empty, hopeless, and hungry. And then I woke up.