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Snippet of Knifepoint Horror: Mother

From Audio: mother

Duration: 06:47
A man visits his mother at her retirement home, but a monstrous bird killed everyone.
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A man visits his mother at her retirement home, but the lights were off and things seemed weary. The building appears empty as he rushed to find his mother, except for a single person watching TV. When the man realized the person in front of the TV was dead, he began to run but was greeted by some horrifying creatures.
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I left that room and kept moving. None of the other doors were open, and none of the last names were mine. I turned the corner and I was in a short connecting hallway, twice as wide, with big picture one days and a pleasant cut out where a large TV was mounted to the wall. Six easy chairs were arranged so the residents could sit together and watch. Someone was sitting in one of but a blanket been draped over them all the way up to the top of their head. I whispered Hello. As I moved closer, I touched the person's shoulder through the blanket, causing it to drop just a inch, revealing their forehead. I pulled the blanket away slowly. It was not a resident of Waverly Muse. It was a bald man of about 40 dressed in nurses clothing. His eyes were open, but he saw nothing. There was a messy splotch of blood on the center of his chest, where his garment was severely tourney. So much blood. I screamed for the first time since I was a child, really screamed into silence. I raised my shaking hands in front of me as if they had been burned by touching the blanket, I imagined I must have looked like a character in a bad horror movie, urged by a director to make motions no one would really make in real life. But that is just what I did. They're all dead. They're all dead. They're all dead, I thought as I moved, swiftly, passed the TV area and turned the corner, another residents hole. I saw something else all the way at the end, a moving shadow on the light blue carpet emerging into the intersection. Coming around the corner, the shadow grew but withdrew again. And then I heard an odd sound, a rustling, a shadow stretched across the wall. Now and right after I saw a thin, small head ahead, attached to a long, undulating neck. The thing that belonged to stepped into the intersection. It was about 5 ft high, a great bird until tall, spindly legs through the dark. It looked at me, lowering its head, tilting it in curiosity. It took two clumsy, awkward steps forward. It beat its wings, once, creating an echo. An ostrich. Yeah, the thing was visibly old, filthy, as if it had crawled from some tar pit. There was no real light, but still I saw its eyes specked with the glitter of pupils, its mouth open slowly and hung open, as if we're hungry, beckoning to me to bring something, bring myself. It made no sound standing there with room on 18. On one side of it, room 1 21 on the other side doors closed, its inhabitants unaware. I felt hypnotized, compelled to meet its vacuous gays. It took another step forward on those ugly legs. I could hear it breathing from so far away, raspy and sick. It was challenging me to come. I think I broke my hypnosis with another scream I turned to began to run. I ran past the dead man, staring eyes back toward the common area. I think I was hollering my head off. Nonsensical words hyperventilating. The dining room had changed. There were no tables anymore, sitting there in the dark, though the walls with same the sink area in the fish tank. Still there in the background, the calendar of events scrawled on a white board beside the refrigerator. The carpeted floor had been split by a great fisher, a crack 30 ft long, but only a few feet wide, as if there had been an earthquake. I sank to my knees, helpless. Nothing but a spectator toe. Whatever was going to happen to me, I heard moaning sounds. Several human beings moaning. Then, from that crack, something emerged. A human arm grouping for something to clutch onto. Another one appeared a few feet away. The head and torso of a human being popped up. An elderly woman. She was covered in that black tar like substance, her mouth open and close, as if she were gasping air for the first time after living beneath the earth. Someone came out from the crack beside her, actually striking her with his left arm as he emerged as well. Skinny man in a robe also caked in black, his bald head turning this way and that to take in his new surroundings. The moaning grew is more people came out of the crack, confused by where they were and why they were cursed. Toe live 9 10, 12 of them, dressed in the night clothes they've gone to bed, the residents of Waverly Muse, grasping and clutching the pull. Their broken body is out of the crack in the floor. One old man had made it all the way out and begin to crawl forward. Faced crawled towards me. I got to my feet and rand ran back toward the side entrance I'd come from. I pulled something in my back, aggravating my injury from the fall. But I kept moving, limping, having regained a glimmer of logical thought when the pain struck, A door appeared at the end of the corridor, not the one eyed coming through, but I had already lost my bearings. As I ran toward it, I was sure the door would disappear somehow or be inexplicably locked. But I pushed down on the bar and it released me to the night. I was at the rear of the building side. Facing toward the woods. Right in front of me was a small flat field beyond, which lay the entrance to the walking trail that led into those woods. A sign advised residents not to enter it alone, and not after dusk it felt safer to run towards it, so that is what I do
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