The Screaming (standard:horror, 1775 words)
Author: the_walls	Added: Feb 10 2010	Views/Reads: 3317/2278	Story vote: 0.00 (0 votes)
What would you do if the screaming never ended?

Click here to read the first 75 lines of the story


“Stop!” I scream at her. Her mouth moves then. But the movement of her
mouth does not match the sound I hear. I'm no lip reader, but it sure 
looks like this woman is trying to speak in words now. How can that be? 
The screaming hasn't stopped. 

“Stop screaming! You're killing me with all this screaming!” 

She just sits there looking up at me with eyes full of tears and her
hands clasped before her as if she were praying to her god. But the 
screaming continues and continues. 

Her mouth still does not move, though she still screams the incoherent
babblings of a crazy person. I can't take this anymore. 

I step towards her and she immediately cringes. “Stop fucking
screaming!” I howl at her to no avail. She just looks up at me, thrusts 
her hands at me and shrinks further into the wall behind her. 

“All you have to do is stop screaming and I'll leave. I haven't slept
all night because you won't...stop...fucking...SCREAMING!” I yell at 
the top of my lungs at her. 

My head is pounding and the sweat continues to run down my face stinging
my eyes and running into the corners of my mouth. I can taste the salty 
flavor of myself. My eyes hurt from the lights flashing now different 
colored circles and bolts of lightning flashing across my vision. 

What I can see of her through this haze of pain shows a woman seemingly
begging. Sitting before me, arms out mouth slightly open, pouting. 
Drool running down the sides of her chin. But why won't she stop 
screaming? 

“Fuck,” I scream back at her. “Fucking Stop screaming, please. I beg
you.” The pain is now unbearable and I see there is only one way to end 
this. I pick my foot up off the carpet and slam the heel into her jaw. 
Her head smashes against the wall and she slumps to the floor, eyes 
shut. Her body unmoving. But the screams continue. 

“God damn you.” I stomp my bare foot on her face again. Still the
screams. Again my foot slams into her face. Her cheek bursts open and 
globs of blood and teeth run out of her mouth onto the floor. 

I jump back. Searing pain as I realize there are teeth and bone
fragments in my foot. But overriding that pain is the incessant 
screaming. Forgetting the pain in my foot – but not my head - I step to 
her prone form again. Stomping viciously into her skull. If I turn her 
head into mush maybe she'll stop screaming. My foot alms into her head 
again and again and again. “Stop, please, stop screaming! Fuck!” Blood 
is flying, landing on the walls, the floor, the window and my leg. My 
foot keeps coming down on her, quickly disassembling skull. Her head 
has become a smear on the carpet. 

The screaming stops, finally. Maybe my head will stop hurting and I can
get some sleep. My vision begins to return to its usual clarity and the 
searing pain in my brain subsides. 

“It's time I get back to bed and get some sleep.” I say to myself as I
turn and exit her bedroom. I walk through the living room to the entry 
door and step out. On the bottom step are three police officers. 
“Freeze.” I hear one of them shout. 

“No thanks, I'm tired. Going back to bed, but thank you for showing up.
I never thought she would stop screaming. 

“Who called you guys, anyway? I thought I was the only one who heard her
for some odd reason. “She's quiet now. I took care of it. Maybe in the 
morning I'll come by the precinct and file a formal complaint, but 
right now, like I said I am tired and going to bed.” 

I turned toward my door and heard stomping and felt the shaking of heavy
feet running up the stairs. I turned around just as two of the cops 
rammed into me. Throwing me against the wall. My head cracking the 
glass of the window that leads to my bedroom and I slide down the wall 
with my back taking splinters through the shirt. 

The two officers land on me and I feel all the air in my lungs blast out
through my lips in one loud burst. 

“Roll on you stomach, motherfucker!” One of them yells at me. I try but
with the weight of these two behemoths on me I can't move. There's 
blood running down my back as I sit against the wall below my broken 
window. 

The one on my right grabs my arm and forcibly pulls me forward slightly
as the one on my left grabs my other arm and my shoulder. Violently I 
am rolled onto my stomach. My hands pushed up my back beyond the point 
that I thought they could go. My shoulder hurts, but I figure these 
gentleman have no remorse for my pain as they place cuffs on my wrists 
and pull me to my feet. 

“What were you doing in there?” the third officer asks me as he makes
his way up the stairs. “We received a call about a noise complaint. A 
lot of screaming and such. What is going on man?” 

“Officer that's what I was trying to tell you. That woman wouldn't shut
up. So I went next door there,” I nodded my head towards her door, “and 
was going to ask her to keep it down.” 

Officer number three looked at the kicked in door. “Did you think to
knock?” He said, sarcastically, as he stepped into her apartment. The 
two holding me jostled me a little, trying to intimidate me I guess. 

Thirty seconds or so later officer number three stepped through my
neighbors doorway. He was pale, sickly looking. I think he may have 
vomited. Atleast that's what I think I look like every time I vomit. He 
looks at me with his hands outstretched, leaning against the door 
frame. “get this piece of shit in the squad car.” 

“But officer, sir. I was only trying to quiet her down. I just want to
get some sleep.” I cried to him, as the tears began running. They 
hauled me down the stairs. My head slumps forward, chin touching my 
chest. 

“I just want to get some sleep.” 


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