An unsettling feeling gnawed at me, flashes of death and screams haunting my thoughts despite their absence in the room. My hands trembled uncontrollably, as an icy chill crept over me as visions of murder danced through my mind. With each heartbeat, my anxiety intensified, driving me to seek solace on my bed, yet finding only discomfort amidst the lingering terrors.

Moonlight streamed through the window, casting an eerie glow upon the barren tree outside. Its colorless branches, skeletal and twisted, stood as a silent witness to my inner turmoil. Tears welled in my eyes, blurring my vision, as I gazed upon the haunting silhouette. The night's stillness felt oppressive, the silence amplifying the relentless storm of fear that raged within me.I closed my eyes slowly, desperate for a moment of peace. My mind, however, was a battlefield, each thought a weapon against my fragile composure.

The memory of the man's wicked smile, the sickening sound of the axe, and the woman's lifeless face all replayed in my mind, each image more vivid and terrifying than the last.My heart pounded in my chest, the sound echoing in my ears like a relentless drum. I tried to steady my breathing, but each gasp felt shallow, my lungs constricted by an invisible vice. The shadows in the room seemed to shift and dance, taking on menacing forms that sent shivers down my spine.

Suddenly, a faint rustling sound outside the window snapped my eyes open. I strained to listen, my entire body tensed with anticipation. The branches of the tree swayed gently in the breeze, their skeletal fingers tapping against the glass as if trying to communicate some unspeakable horror.

A cold sweat broke out on my forehead, each droplet a testament to the uncontrollable terror gripping me. I felt utterly alone, trapped in a nightmare that refused to release its hold. Every creak of the house, every whisper of the wind outside, seemed to carry a threat, feeding the fear that gnawed at my sanity.

Summoning what little strength I had left, I drew the curtains tightly shut, blocking out the moonlight and the tree's eerie silhouette. But the darkness brought little comfort. I could still hear the faint echoes of those ominous claps, their memory sending fresh waves of dread through me.

Collapsing back onto my bed, I clutched the blanket tightly, as if it could shield me from the horrors outside. My mind raced with questions and fears, each one more paralyzing than the last. Was he out there? Had he seen me? Would he find me?

As the night wore on, sleep eluded me, my eyes wide open in the dark. The relentless storm of fear continued to rage within, a tempest that left me trembling and helpless, yearning for the dawn that seemed so impossibly far away.

I

Awakening with a jolt of fear, I found myself on a bed as hard as stone. The room lay in darkness, the colors muted and swallowed by an oppressive sense of malevolence. Silence hung heavy in the air, as if nature itself had retreated.

No sunlight filtered through the clouds, no trees swayed in the nonexistent breeze, and the darkened sky seemed to mock any hope of brightness. Even the streetlights outside only served to cast harsh glares on the grimy windows. It was a desolate scene, devoid of life; not a single car horn broke the silence.

As I attempted to rise from the bed, I encountered an obstacle: my legs were bound by a rough, crusty rope. Every movement caused the bed's tarnished edges to groan in protest."Help!" I screamed, but my voice seemed to wither into a mere whisper, drowned out by the overwhelming sense of dread. It felt as though an invisible force constricted my muscles, squeezing the life out of me with each passing moment.

In the ensuing battle between life and death, my thoughts swirled in a tempest of fear. With trembling hands, I struggled to free myself from the constraints, the sound of the rope rubbing against my skin grating on my ears. Yet, despite my efforts, a sense of futility crept in, draining my dwindling energy.

Time dragged on, the stench of decay permeating the air as moments stretched into eternity.

Smell of blood, endured the room... I could hear, slow dripping sound of liquid and soft footsteps entering the room, the picture of the person wasn't clear, I rubbed my eyes trying to capture a shadow of him in the dark room.

I crouched tight back to the bed and prayed with my deepest heart. Each second was a war of dying, total silence prevailed........ I caught hold my head...The clap was ringing in my mind constantly, each second it banged my head. Making every second of my life miserable.

The lights turned on...with a bright smack on my eyes. a blurry black dressed man stood with a freshly killed head, the blood dripped as he swayed it across to my face.... His heels made a ticking sound... a sound which irked the anger and fear in me, I turned around trying not to see him, as I turned....he stood before me with a wicked smile. A smile filled his cheeks. His eyes were lit with pleasure of killing, blood smell enudered my heart raging my ringing terrors, my head thumped with pain, firing shocks made my hands shiver...

He wore a black leather coat and black leather gloves..."he is the killer" I muttered ...his laughs were outrageous, just as his looks. Made my blood heat up with fear of dying, lost hope in life as he came closer...

He dropped the head on the floor, it fell with a smack, blood throttled everywhere, staining the walls and my face, "A fresh start for an owl" He said taking of his gloves. He came closer moving me to side, the smell of blood made me baffled, fear turned into sweat, slithering from my cheeks.....

He started to glaze my face with a soft touch removing the sweat, pinching my cheeking with his blood throtted hands....the blood rippled along my cheek, each drop falling on my hand stinging like poison...

His smile widened as he inhaled the scent of my skin, sending a shiver down my spine. With each step closer, a sense of dread enveloped me.

A chilling fear swept through my body, paralyzing me. Despite my efforts, my muscles refused to obey, immobilized by terror.

Yet, I understood the urgency to scream before it was too late. Summoning every ounce of courage within me, I prepared to shout. His eyes bore into mine, a mix of betrayal and anger flashing within them, momentarily weakening my resolve before fear surged back in.

Nevertheless, I knew it was now or never. Summoning all my bravery, I mustered the strength to push him away with a determined effort...

"Helpppppppppppppppppppppppp!" I shouted, as soon as I shouted his smile vanished into thin air, he now wore an immortal smile on his face...The sounds of clap ringed again, getting louder each second...fighting its way into my braveness. He held my hand tight with his left...

His right hand brushed against my lips, a chuckle escaping him without apparent cause. His gaze locked onto mine, unmoving, his fingers trailing from my lips to my neck. I instinctively recoiled, but the invisible strings of fate seemed to tug me back. Before I could react, his grip tightened around my neck, squeezing the life out of me. "Help!" I screamed with all the strength I could muster, my voice dwindling to a mere squeak.

A voice pierced through the veil of my dreams, calling out urgently, "Laila! Laila, wake up!" Startled, I blinked my eyes open to the sight of a stout figure clad in a nightdress, with hair tied back.

My heart pounded as I jolted upright, relief flooding me as I realized it was just a nightmare. "What's the matter?" my mother inquired, concern etched in her features. Choosing not to disclose the truth, I replied, "Just a bad dream," concealing the true nature of my unease.

"Laila, darling, I've noticed you've been off lately. Is everything alright, dear? You know you can always talk to me," my mother reassured me, her voice gentle and caring. Silently, I scoffed at the notion that she would believe the reality of my nightmares.

"There's nothing to worry about, Mum. I'll join you for breakfast soon," I assured her with a forced smile. "It's a bright day! Let's make the most of it before the snow traps us indoors again," she chirped before closing my bedroom door.

The bed beneath me felt unforgiving as I rose and made my way to the bathroom, seeking solace in the reflection staring back at me from the mirror. A sharp cry escaped my lips as the water stung my bruised wrist. Examining it closely, I couldn't recall any recent injuries, sending a chill of apprehension down my spine.I couldn't connect the dots. It was dark and reddish blue. Just like if a rope was tied too long making my blood to clot...

Suddenly, I pushed the unsettling thoughts aside and proceeded to get ready. Opting for a loose-fitting dress with oversized sleeves, I hoped it would deflect my mother's prying eyes. Yet, a persistent nagging sensation continued to gnaw at the corners of my mind, refusing to be ignored.

II

As I descended the stairs, I spotted my sister waiting at the bottom, her eyes locked onto my oversized, loose-sleeved blue top. "Ugh, Laila, what happened to your sense of style?" she remarked, grabbing hold of my bruised hand. A surge of pain shot through me, and anger flared up inside me. "Get off, Sara!" I snapped, my cheeks burning with frustration.

"Hey there, everything alright?" my dad called out from the couch, engrossed in his morning newspaper while sipping on a steaming cup of coffee. "Fine," I grumbled with a rasp in my voice, the morning already taking a sour turn.

My phone chimed, signaling a message from my friend Sindy: "Let's meet at Crook's. Sharp 11." Despite the invitation, I wasn't in the mood for socializing. My mind was a whirlwind of unanswered questions and disjointed thoughts, the increasing pain adding to my distress. Each passing moment felt like an eternity as the pain reverberated through my head.

weighed down by the burden of my thoughts, I struggled to focus. "Stop fidgeting and eat," my mother's voice echoed from the kitchen. Although I usually enjoyed breakfast, today I couldn't bring myself to touch a thing.

I hurriedly grabbed my coat and slipped on my socks, feeling the weight of each passing second burdened by thoughts of the assailant. Desperate to shake off the haunting memories, I knew the only solution was to see my therapist.

"Mum, I've got an urgent class! I'm off. Love you, bye!" I called out from the doorstep, already dressed in leather boots and a puffy hooded jacket. With my hands tucked into my pockets, I set off on foot.

The snowy streets glistened in the sunlight, the air crisp and clear. Despite the bright day, a sense of foreboding lingered, as if darkness loomed on the horizon, ready to engulf everything in its path.