The Demon’s Plaything

This story was written in answer to The Word of the Day Challenge –

Also includes the Ragtag Daily Prompt – Again

Here’s what I came up with … Don’t be scared!

The Demon’s Plaything

I hate this house! It’s turning me into a nervous wreck. It’ll kill me I know it will. Nobody will believe me but something sinister lurks here.

With the falling of darkness, the temperature descends to freezing point. Doing so even on nights where it’s warm outside. The curtains rustle and all the doors creak open. It begins again as it does every single damned night.

I lay curled in a blanket in the lounge with the television on loud, drowning out the noises. I still hear the pantry door groan open, the broom crash out to the floor and my dinner plates shattering on the work surface.

“Go away!” I yell as icy claws run down my spine. The comedy on the television does little to lighten the mood especially when interference makes it shudder on the screen.

Silence falls

The mantle-clock chimes eleven PM

One … Two … Three … Four —


Every night after eleven, I hear those heavy footfalls and the demonic laughter. My psychologist says I’m remembering being laughed at and bullied at school.

Even cowering under my blanket, I feel his eyes boring into my brain. My body tingles with fear and his dark energy.  “Go away!” I scream.


He’s on the stairs


He’s coming down toward me


Something crashes to the floor. My animal pictures smashing in their frames.

“Leave my things alone!” I beg from beneath my blanket.


The laughter is right inside the lounge with me now. It fills me with gooseflesh and leaves my hair erect with adrenaline.

The room fills with white light.

I peer out from beneath my blanket and realise the TV show is gone, replaced by a pure white screen.

“It’s time! HAHAHAHA!”

“No!” I whimper as I force the blanket tight around me. Squeeze into a trembling ball on the couch. “Leave me —”

My blanket is torn from me. It shoots across the room, smashing a lamp before slapping and against the wall and falling limply to the floor.

I’m exposed now. I can barely breathe, my chest is vice tight. I see nothing. I feel icy fingernails rasping at my body and try to swat them away. “No! – enough!”

The entity laughs again.

A black figure appears in the white light effusing from the TV. The demon’s hand reaches out toward me.

I scream with heart thundering terror. Every fibre of my being wants to run but I’m paralysed on the sofa.

 “HAHAHAHA! Time to go!” the being’s hand reaches right through me. Or so I thought.

Pain erupts in my chest like nothing I’ve ever felt before. It’s like something has grabbed my heart and is tearing it from my chest. There’s nothing I can do but kick and scream as it drags its hand back and pulls me through the white veil.

I wake up bathed in sweat and full of panic. Warm morning sunlight is streaming through my bedroom window. I hear the residual laughter from the demon in my head

His words. “Time to go.” Echo along with three more and another laugh. “See you tonight HAHAHAHA!”

Am I going mad?

The End

Thanks for reading my friends. As always there are more stories and poems to be enjoyed (I hope) in the Short Stories and Short Stories 2 and Poetry Corner tabs.

Have a great day!

7 thoughts on “The Demon’s Plaything

Add yours

  1. This was great, Mason. I, too, enjoy imagining the realm between what’s “real” and what others consider to be “madness.” You write about this kind of thing so well!! This was a very entertaining story. Way to go 🙂

    Liked by 1 person

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