Wrong House …. [DON’T SLEEP]

She was shivering next to me.

Her brown eyes were wide, her pale skin chalky from fear. She didn’t know what to do in this situation.

But I did.

It was just the three of us at home. My father, my girlfriend and I. Only a week ago, some guy had laid hands on her, and didn’t take her rejection well at a festival. The creep did his research well. He knew who I was, he knew who she was. Only hours earlier, he had sent me a text.


She was petrified but not to the extent it would freeze her. There was a toughness behind her eyes that belied the fear. My father and I readied ourselves the best we could. He was wearing my plate carrier, with the home’s only firearm, a loud shotgun. I wanted him to be as protected as possible. He was older, not as mobile and I loved my father just as much as my girlfriend.

He chose to cover the front door and living room. I was crouched next to him, ready to move into the adjoining kitchen and rear door. We both ignored the other end of the house where there was a long corridor with bedrooms that lined it, left, right and centre.

They turned up at the witching hour. 0100 HRS

It was pitch black, but their use of shitty phone lights gave them away. They had fake Federation Square uniforms, that they had somehow pilfered somewhere. It featured the old logo and bought a shiver down my spine. The creep, Michael, had truly done his research. He knew where I worked. He knew where I lived. He was ready to kill me for her.

He knew a lot about me. He had prepared extensively for this moment. Michael was ready to play. But there was one thing he didn’t know.

He didn’t know my capacity for savagery.

I counted 15 of his cronies entering the front yard, through the living room window. They split up into two groups, with Michael staying with the bigger group that crept slowly up the stairs to my front door.

The other group circled back to the rear, all 7 of them, holding pistols, bats and knives. I grabbed my girlfriend and placed her at the base of the kitchen, where she couldn’t been seen or hit by gunfire. Whispering to her that if I told her to move, she was to hang onto my belt, I waited for her to nod and squeeze my arm before letting go.

I had two weapons on hand. A large tactical axe that I was going to use to carve a hole in the wall that would let me escort my girlfriend away, into the neighbours if things went truly south. This axe, I left beside my girlfriend. The other was in my hand.

The large knife in my palm was my favourite. An all black CRKT M16-14LEK with a tanto blade. It was the only fighting knife in my arsenal and gripping it, I felt cold, hard and sharp like the blade.

I counted two men and winced when I saw one of them jam his crowbar into the door and wrench it open.

The first man came through the door, as quietly as he could, pistol first.

His breathing was loud. Mine, crouched at the connecting door to the kitchen was shallow and silent.

He took another half step. I stepped towards him, my masked face right up to his, my eyes burning with anger, as my hand grabbed the barrel of the pistol and turned it towards him, whilst the knife blurred with speed and went straight under his jaw.

He gagged.

I twisted the knife twice.

Blood rushed out.

The guy behind him went to scream, but I kicked the dying pointman into him and grabbed the pistol simultaneously.

Thud. Thud.


Thud. Thud.

I executed both of them without hesitation. One shot to the pointman’s head, another quickly into the chest of the guy behind him, who tumbled down the tiny flight of stairs of the back door, gasping for air. As he looked up in horror, my last two shots entered his eyes. The rest of the 5 men stared at their dead buddy before looking up at the kitchen.

They bought their guns to bear.

Just as my father’s shotgun roared to life and I heard the windows of our living room shatter to hell, as 3 men went down at the front door and the rest ducked for cover and began firing up at the house in earnest.

This froze the rear door men just long enough for me to scatter back and disappear into the darkness of the house.

Two of the men ran past the rear door, deciding to make entry at the end of the corridor. The last three paused, unsure of what to do, when one of them motioned at the window that could see into the living room, through the kitchen. One of them nodded and got out his bat, hitting the window in earnest.

The other two went for the rear door, but just as they climbed the tiny flight of stairs and paused, I stood up from behind the cover of the kitchen and pulled the trigger as fast as I could.

The two heads disappeared in a cloud of blood and brains.

Spinning around, I kicked myself back just as the guy with the bat came through the window with a loud bang. He swung his weapon lustily at me, knocking the pistol away. I scrambled back, dodging his swings, before my girlfriend came up from behind him and grabbed his bat arm.

Before he could grab her, my knife entered his brain the same way the point man died.

Pushing his dying body to the ground, I looked over at her and pushed her down again, before grabbing the pistol and reloading it with spares from the dead men. Grabbing another pistol, I tossed it to my dad in the living room, who nodded seriously at me.

I gave him an open palm, my fingers splayed out and then creating an X with my arms.

5 dead.

My father returned the signal. 4 on his side.

He motioned for me to check the rest of the house, before standing up tall and firing off 3 rounds from the shotgun in quick succession before ducking down again.

I wanted to convey my gratitude to my father for protecting us, but he already knew how I felt and the best thing I could do for him and my girlfriend was to keep killing.

Moving through the kitchen, and towards the rear of the house, I looked down the dark corridor and saw shadows move.

My pistol barked again, defensive and angry. Two more men went down, this time their screams of pain was enough to silence the gunfight outside, which allowed my father to send 3 more to hell, but at a cost, as he took a round to the vest and went down hard.

Michael lowered his pistol with a savage smile and rushed the door to press his advantage. Every single member of his team was now dead, except him. But he didn’t care. He also didn’t know that the men at the back had died. All he wanted his prize. He craved the girl. He demanded subjugation and blood.

I wasn’t going to let him have anything.

Michael pre-fired through the front door before charging into the living room, eager to finish the mysterious man with a shotgun. But he didn’t check his corners. I was waiting for him, my tactical axe in hand.

I wanted this man to pay. He couldn’t take rejection. He wouldn’t keep his hands to himself. He had raised arms against me.

I was going to take them as repayment.

Michael walked through the door, pistol leveled at my father.

I swung the axe.

Hand and gun fell to the ground.

Michael looked down in shock. He couldn’t believe it.

One moment, his hand was there, the next …. it was on the floor, and now a bloody stump was all that was left at the end of his arm.

I allowed him to stare. Then he looked up at me.

Our eyes met.

Then his went wide, as the axe’s blade buried itself between them.

It was then, I woke up.

Author’s Note:

Another DON’T SLEEP. But this time, the nightmare was a direct result of a very jealous subconscious.

This was a very dark, power fantasy that I genuinely dislike. The violence is too graphic and disturbing for me to fully condone and I thought it was so twisted that I had such a dark nightmare just because I got jealous of a situation where a random guy I’ve never met or heard of, got handsy once with a girl.

I honestly dislike this side of me so much. I should be so much more mature and learn to let things go better, but I suppose in a way this is my maturity coming out. I can’t help these feelings, but I can help how I deal with them and make sure they don’t poison things in the future.

In a lot of ways, it’s been a very long time since something this dark happened and I guess I should be grateful about this reminder, because I know there is something twisted inside me and it pays to be cautious and vigilant against that part of me.

I’m not happy that I had this dream but it was necessary to have it. But, at least I know that I won’t let it poison things inside of me, because it is out, it is explored and it is now dealt with properly, through writing and self analysis.

The darkness is always within, but these writing exercises and honesty with those I care about, is what keeps it in check.

~ Damocles.

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