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Evil Within - Final
Evil Within - Final

Evil Within - Final

FabioLanzoniAaron Sebastians

Willis wakes up on the floor. The same room Father locked him in. He listens while laying down, but there is no sound. Becoming worried, he looks at his camera not wanting to see the possibility of dead-man’s blood displayed all over and body parts cut off, to see if anything just so happens to be on there when he blacked out. Opening the screen and playing through the recording, Willis sees himself in the room. A malformed figure is in there with him also, but the figure moves towards the door and vanishes through. Screams are heard, but not in the footage. Willis shot straight up and looked out the door window as the footage kept playing. Dr. Livingstone is on the ground with his neck bruised purple and black with burn marks on his petrified face with his one real eye torn out. Father is on the ground shuttering and covering his head as he is curled into a ball. Willis bangs on the door trying to grab Father’s attention. Father releases from his defensive position and moves his hands revealing a massive, deep cut along his head from the blood-ridden scissors that lays beside him. Father stands up wearily and stumbles around as his blood runs along his face and body soaking into his clothes. He opens the door as Willis starts to back up from the horrific sight at seeing Father streaked with blood trails and one enlarged deep cut on his face.

“Are you okay,” Father asks as blood is dripping from his face.
“Yeah,” Willis says immediately, wanting to ask Father the same thing, but with a statement, “you don’t look so good, Father.”
Father holds the back of head covering the cut as blood seeps and spills between his fingers, “God has made his choice on me, and I am grateful that he did something with my life.”

Father goes on a rant, but it sounds calm from the tone of his voice, “You are Shelah!,” He paces back and forth like he did the first time seeing me, “you didn’t show Shelah the light, you didn’t teach Shelah to be domesticated in the presence of God. You murdered people who just needed guidance because of your thirst for blood,” Father starts to hold himself back and takes a few breaths, “I’m not mad at you,...” turning around, “just disappointed”.
After Father spoke about how Shelah was inside him, Willis stared at Father almost mad, “why didn’t you tell me it was inside of me?”
“It wasn’t in you,” Father leashed out with spit flying, “you let it control your life!”
“What?”
“Shelah used your soul. Shelah tested it out. Shelah rules you whenever it wants to now.”
“I think you’re going crazy Father. You are inside a ment-”
“Look at your hands,” Father interrupted, “look”.
Willis does as he says and looks at his hands. Turning them over and examining them, there is nothing odd to be seen.
In a frustrated and confused voice, “What am I looking at? What am I looking for?”
“Your hands have other’s blood.”
Willis looks at them again, “No they don’t.”
“Look with YOUR eyes.”
Willis is still looking at them, “I see not a drop.”
Father backs away slowly holding the bible close to his chest still facing Willis and asks, “Do you have your journal on you?”
Willis pulls his blooded journal and shows Father.
“Look inside,” said Father, backing further and further away, “look at the words.”
Willis proceeds to flip through the blood soaked pages and see black ink scrawled throughout the book. The whole book. “Father,” he comments, “I can’t read anything.”
“Read with your eyes,” Father says, “YOUR eyes won’t lie.”
Willis stares at the pages and focuses really hard hoping something can come out of it. Some of the words are becoming clear to Willis, ‘Hate’, ‘Persecute’, ‘I’, ‘Manifest’, ‘Shelah’.
Willis drops the journal and his tone changes in his eyes and voice as if becoming a different person.

“Why?...Why did you let me?” Willis' face becomes angry and he starts to take strong steps towards Father in fluent motion.
“Son,” Father said, “fight it. Beat Shelah. Believe in God,” Father begins to back away even faster muttering prayers to Saint Michael.
“You son of a bitch,” Willis heads straight for Father.
Father stumbles over his feet and falls to the ground making his bloody head make a splatter on the ground screaming, “No chosen one.”
Willis gets on his knees on top of Father and wraps his hands around Father’s neck and presses his fingers through his throat.
Father’s voice is short of breath, “You need the Lord,” now coughing up words, “you can control it.”
Willis’ hands tense up as he grips tighter, showing the bones pop through his skin with a grimace in his face with full effort making Father’s head turn a dark red, “you don’t know me. You could’ve helped me.”
Father opens his mouth and eyes fighting for the breath of life with one last comment, “God help your purged soul,” as his face begins to relax and his warm breath gives one last push out from his lungs making his body lifeless.

Willis releases his hands furiously and looks at Father’s neck. It is bruised black and purple with an outlining of a hand making a burn mark. Something no human could ever do with their own power. Willis looks at his hands to see they are covered in blood, then realizes that he is haunted by Shelah.That moment his mind sparked that reality check, he breaks down inside knowing he killed an innocent man. More than innocent people. Just everyone he has crossed paths with. His mind is fighting back and forth, becoming frustrated and angry, but in moments comes back to a reasonable manner. He is tossing and turning, whipping his around in a flurry of emotions screaming out trying to get Shelah out as he can feel emotions riding high like a hurricane. Willis is doing everything he can to get it out, calling to God, screaming, praying, but his emotions are like a leaf in the wind where it can go anywhere at any time. Willis then tosses around towards the stairs and climbs up along the railing. A severe headache is coming on. Willis’ eyesight is going blurry as lights and darkness start to blend together making odd shapes. Making his way up the steps and to the closed iron door, Willis rips it off the hinges in frustration, not caring that he was able to do so. Going along the halls, dead bodies litter the floor as he walks by pools of fresh blood that mix together on the floor making it look like a lake leaving a bloody tail of footprints. Bodies are hung to the ceiling and staked against the walls. Willis didn’t take time to think as he trembled down the halls.

Making his way to the main lobby of the building with big lights at the top with the balcony he fell from, Willis has encountered multiple insane people who survived the massacre there who try to get away and hide from him. His blurry vision makes out a ghost-like figure chasing the people. Willis falters to the ground and starts to bash his head against the tile floor with screams of pain, hatred and agony, but the headache is far more hurting and couldn’t stand it anymore trying to take his own life under his own power. The malformed figure from what Willis can see barely as he crushes his face, is tossing the people around in the air having them crash into walls. It comes after every single person. With their screams, bodies flung, some hit the lights and sparks flew everywhere as glass rained to make ringing sounds falling against the tile. Some were torn limb by limb as others were exploded into the wall only leaving a bloody spot against the stone with no sign of their bodies present as if vaporized. Willis is still bashing his head against the floor and his nose, mouth and forehead become broken, mangled and mashed with blood pouring out and making strings from his face to the floor like saliva in the mouth as bits of his skin is being plastered onto the tile, leaving what looks to be half of his face still a part of him.

Becoming tired from the self-abuse, Willis drops to the glittering-glass covered floor and lays on his back looking at the lights that are still sparking. When looking at them, a fire broke out from the electrical circuits. Erupting in flames, it scorches the surrounding area and the impaled body that is pressed into the light fixture starts to burn and fall. Willis right underneath that falling body and is slamed by the impact of the torched corpse. The face of the psycho on top of Willis’ face, with their warm blood mixing together and it’s dead weight on top is too much for Willis to push off. Not even bothered by the dead person, Willis just moves his head away from the person’s dead-stare and looks at the electrical fire. The fire is growing as the heat begins to build up. The flames stretch from the light, to the ceiling and along the walls. The whole perimeter of the room becomes engulfed in flames and smoke blankets the ceiling. Willis drags himself away from the body and yanks his legs out from underneath with little energy he has left.

The entrance door is near. Willis is crawling slowly, but surely towards the door. Parts of the building start to collapse as lights shatter against the ground and walls begin to crumble, ceiling begins to crack and give in to its own weight, the walls become scorched and turn to a metalic gray and black color. Smoke is intensifying as the heat is summer-sunned blacktop and Willis can feel his face cauterize by the flames that near closer. The burning sensation he feels inside, but gives no emotion on the outside. The balcony now burns and breaks apart. Sections are falling down around Willis as he is still crawling to the door with short bursts. Willis is pulled back some distance from the door. He is flipped over to see in his blurry red vision a darkened figure.
“You can’t get away,” Dr. Livingstone’s voice calls out.
In Willis’ vision, he can see his outlining holding something.

Doctor Livingstone is laughing as he comes above Willis’ broken bloody head. Dr. Livingstone’s hand presses down on Willis’ raw face to completely blind him and takes the sharp object and puts pressure against his neck with it making Willis swallow in terror.
Dr. Livingstone presses even harder with the sharp object into Willis’ neck and begins to laugh, “you thought I was dead, didn’t you?” saying that as the building is collapsing and the balcony breaks apart and walls begin to crack and crumble at the base.
Willis only responded back with groaning.
“Yeah, you thought I was dead,” Dr. Livingstone whispered into Willis’ ear.
The Doctor pulls the object away from Wilis’ neck and stabs it through Willis’ chest. Willis lets out a loud groan. The cold metal is felt inside his body as his warm blood surrounding it is divided in two paths. Dr. Livingstone stands up and lifts his leg and places his foot onto the object and puts little force on it. Pressing down, the sharp pain begins to go into Willis. The Doctor is laughing in joy at Willis’ pain. Willis could see the ghost-like figure Shelah behind Doctor Livingstone. The Doctor’s laughter stops instantly as the pressure on Willis stops and releases. The Doctor is heard screaming as Willis watches Livingstone’s body being whipped around through his bloody vision.

The Doctor is thrown around the building by the spirit and is tossed against the entrance breaking through the cage and door revealing the outside light. Willis in the heat of the flames begins to crawl full force to the opening. The balcony completely falls apart and embers light up the room like glitter cannons. The walls crumble and burn under the fire as bodies are charred black in bones. Willis is so close to the outside. He can feel the cool air sucking out the heat. Crackling wood sounds as it finishes burning turning to ash. Willis’ breath is heavy and slow as his chest is bleeding. Willis takes his hand and pulls the object out and an agonizing screech comes from him as the sharp object is thrown away from him. Willis is so close, just a few more lunges forward and he’ll be at the door. Pulling his weight through the opening, his arm reaches into the cool, misty mountain night air. He begins to smile inside seeing a very dead Dr. Livingstone on the ground outside. Crawling out the door, he is again dragged back into the burning lobby.

The progress he made is lost. He looks back to see Shelah’s dark shadow pull him closer to the flames. The doorway that was freedom to the night air is falling dim as walls begin to crash down blocking the path. Willis let out a tired cry, “No!...God...help me!” as he starts to burn from the heat on his raw tender flesh. The doorway was blocked with stone and burning red wood. The hazy hot air and the continuous battle for freedom is too much for Willis and he slowly stops fighting and his breath becomes short, letting the flames come closer and closer to consume his war-torn body.

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About The Author
FabioLanzoni
Aaron Sebastians
About This Story
Audience
15+
Posted
26 Mar, 2021
Words
2,285
Read Time
11 mins
Rating
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Views
696

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