The Fear (Short Story)

Hello, humans. Before the story starts, I would like to announce that after this post is published, you will only have 6 hours remaining to ask me questions for the second Q&A session through the comment section or by sending me a DM on twitter.


Note: This is a fictional work

The more I thought about it, the more I started to regret my decision not to surrender myself to the police after accidentally killing the man who was bothering me for half an hour or so. It wasn’t my fault as I had no control over myself especially when I’m panicking. It started when he came close to me and “Good evening,” in a somewhat whispery tone, which sent goosebumps all over my body. “Hi,” I replied, trying not to sound irritated or scared. I had always hated it when I have to start a conversation, especially when it’s with strangers.

“Waiting for the bus?” he asked as if me waiting at the bus stop didn’t paint a clear image of what I was doing. “Yeah,” I said. “I’m too drunk to drive,” I replied, pointing at my car which I regretted immediately. “Where’s your house,” the person asked. “Some 10 kilometres from here,” I lied. “Do you know when’s the next bus coming?” he asked, as his hand reached for his pocket.

Questions flooded my mind, as I wondered what he was about to take out from his pocket. “It’s a gun! It’s a gun!” my mind screamed at me, telling me to run. “He will kill you and take your car, run now you stupid idiot,” my inner voice told me, begging me to just leave already. “Well, you know the public transport in this country is not reliable at all,” the man said, taking out a card from his pocket and say, “Here, take my card,” he told me.

“Thanks,” I said, not knowing how else to react. “Why don’t you come to my office, tomorrow?” he asked me. “It’s a public holiday right?” he asked to which I replied, “Yes, I’m free tomorrow,” which was the third mistake that I did that night. “So, what do you say?” he asked me again, trying to push me to answer his question. My heart started to race as fear of him killing me tomorrow races in my mind.

Since I couldn’t say no, I stood there as sweat ran down my scalp as if I was showering. Then, he came closer, as he reached for something under his jacket. “Run!” my inner voice told me and so I did. I ran into the woods as he followed, urging me not to run away. “I’m not gonna hurt you,” he said but I didn’t bother to listen. I was sure that I outran him, in fact, I was starting to feel confident that I would survive the night. That was when I tripped on something and fell.

“Let me help you get up,” the person said. Panicking, I took a large rock and smacked it towards his temple. I could hear his skull breaking as he fell to the ground, dead. And that was why I am now burying a dead body deep in the woods. I couldn’t go to the police because they would take me to prison where I would probably die of suffocation due to my claustrophobia. I am sure that sooner or later, the man’s spirit would soon come to haunt me but I could live with that because his spirit isn’t only that is haunting me. After all, this is not the first time I murdered someone.


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