FRESH AIR : Scary Stories – Short Horror Story

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The fresh chill of the night sky blows over me. Soft, but noticeable. In its journey it had touched the surface of the pool, dragging ripples across its otherwise mirror finish.

This was my ritual.

I felt calm in the embrace of the water, the gentle way in which it held me up, the soothing manner in which I float between the edges. Even the subtle smell of chlorine calmed my senses.

However, I felt most at ease completely submerged.

I calm myself, focusing on my body, lowering my heart rate.

I take a deep breath, and duck beneath the surface.

I open my eyes, the sting of chlorine wearing off almost instantly. I remain motionless, looking up towards the moon, its ivory surface moulding to the ripples in the water.

My chest begins to ache after a while, my body craving fresh oxygen. I knew I could push through it though, if only for a little longer.

The pain in my chest had grown considerably, the need for oxygen not a suggestion but a demand by my body. At this point I curled inwards, orientating my legs towards the bottom of the pool. In a swift motion I had pushed downwards, hoping to propel myself through the surface.

Only, to my horror, I didn’t.

The surface of the water had gone semi-solid, not a doorway to the night sky but a door. I push upwards, the water conforming around my fingers like a gelatinous glove.

I begin to grow frantic, attempting to rip the surface apart, but to no avail. It simply slides upon my hands. My anxiety continues to creep as my chest screams for fresh air.

I push off the floor again, with my hands pointing upwards. But this, too, was fruitless. The surface merely stretches to accompany my fleeting attempts. The pain in my chest has become unbearable, and I feel the energy in my limbs dissipating into the water.

Out of sheer desperation I push my mouth against the surface, my final screams silenced, smothered. What remains of my initial breath unifies and meanders slowly upon the underside of the surface, indifferent towards the situation it had been born of.

My vision fades away as I drift slowly to the bottom of the pool.

The moon, my final witness, shines now upon a completely motionless surface.

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