Incubus
By: RDV
It has been four weeks since Carrie slept in her room. Ever since college started she had had very little time to spend in their provincial home. She secured herself in a dormitory around the university belt. The protocol was to go home on weekends, but due to the academic demands of a college student, she found herself rarely at home anymore.
Now she lay supine in her bedroom in the dead of night. It was never as comfortable as it seemed to be when she was in high school. College had rubbed off that homeliness and replaced it with a stranger’s aura. She stared at the ceiling in an attempt to familiarize herself with the sensation. Nothing really changed save for herself and her perspective of the room. She couldn’t tell if it was gloomy or something else altogether. For all she knew it was different.
As the stardust settled around her, a presence made itself known. Something ancient, something she’d never encountered before in her lifetime. Maybe it was a dream; being half-asleep, it didn’t seem at all that farfetched. But it seemed so palpable, the darkness it exuded. It was like a cloud, voluminous and urgent. It went on top of her, rocking her, pinning her against the bed as if to prevent any movement. It was like the rape scenes she’d seen in the movies.
Then, all at once, it was made apparent to her. She heard of tales like this before, about sexually abusing spirits. Evil spirits. Outlandish, vicious forces that inhabit what they thought was abandoned permanently. Like her room, in which she hadn’t entered in a month and counting now. She struggled with all her might. She could feel its hands roaming on top of her; she could feel them as if it were hers. If you think you can imagine it, you’re wrong. Nothing could’ve defined what was happening to her then, half-plunged in slumber but handcuffed in her nightmare. She opened her eyes. Yes, she was wide awake. A scream died in her throat as she saw not a face, but a fog of dark hue plodding down in front of her.
The next thing she knew was that she was loosened up. Her energy faded. She dared not venture to speak of it. But upon boarding on the bus for the city, she asked her mom to have her room blessed. Huddled in her thoughts, she didn’t know if she’d ever sleep there again, or come back.
It has been four weeks since Carrie slept in her room. Ever since college started she had had very little time to spend in their provincial home. She secured herself in a dormitory around the university belt. The protocol was to go home on weekends, but due to the academic demands of a college student, she found herself rarely at home anymore.
Now she lay supine in her bedroom in the dead of night. It was never as comfortable as it seemed to be when she was in high school. College had rubbed off that homeliness and replaced it with a stranger’s aura. She stared at the ceiling in an attempt to familiarize herself with the sensation. Nothing really changed save for herself and her perspective of the room. She couldn’t tell if it was gloomy or something else altogether. For all she knew it was different.
As the stardust settled around her, a presence made itself known. Something ancient, something she’d never encountered before in her lifetime. Maybe it was a dream; being half-asleep, it didn’t seem at all that farfetched. But it seemed so palpable, the darkness it exuded. It was like a cloud, voluminous and urgent. It went on top of her, rocking her, pinning her against the bed as if to prevent any movement. It was like the rape scenes she’d seen in the movies.
Then, all at once, it was made apparent to her. She heard of tales like this before, about sexually abusing spirits. Evil spirits. Outlandish, vicious forces that inhabit what they thought was abandoned permanently. Like her room, in which she hadn’t entered in a month and counting now. She struggled with all her might. She could feel its hands roaming on top of her; she could feel them as if it were hers. If you think you can imagine it, you’re wrong. Nothing could’ve defined what was happening to her then, half-plunged in slumber but handcuffed in her nightmare. She opened her eyes. Yes, she was wide awake. A scream died in her throat as she saw not a face, but a fog of dark hue plodding down in front of her.
The next thing she knew was that she was loosened up. Her energy faded. She dared not venture to speak of it. But upon boarding on the bus for the city, she asked her mom to have her room blessed. Huddled in her thoughts, she didn’t know if she’d ever sleep there again, or come back.
posted by Ria D. at
3:54 AM
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