"The Nightmare" by Arushi Kashyap is a spooky tale of a dream gone wrong. It is told in eight parts, with each part whisking the reader into a new dreamscape. This is Chapter One.
*Content Warning: Blood, death, rot, some violence.
"The Nightmare" by Arushi Kashyap
Chapter One: The Barking Shadows
Mornings were always the same—grey, slow, and cold. I dressed like usual, heavy-eyed, already late for college. The air outside carried the kind of silence that makes you hold your breath without knowing why. The shortcut was a familiar route through the neighborhood garden. It
wasn't beautiful—just overgrown grass, broken benches, and winding paths lined with rustling trees. I had walked this way countless times. Today felt different. The silence didn’t feel empty—it felt full, like something watching. I walked faster, my shoes crunching on gravel. And
then... I heard it.
Barking.
Faint. Distant.
Then again, louder. Closer.
Image Description: An angry hyena growls with its teeth bared. Its fur is a mottled brown and black.
Credit: Rodrigo Hanna / Pexels
My spine stiffened. The kind of bark that wasn’t friendly. It echoed. Multiplied. Panic bubbled in my chest. I broke into a jog. The shadows under the trees grew longer, like they were reaching out to pull me in. The barking turned into snarling. I looked back—and froze.
They weren’t dogs. They were bigger. Their eyes glowed like dying embers. Their bodies hunched low to the ground, ribcages visible beneath thin, torn skin. Their laughter wasn’t barking—it was cackling. Hyenas.
But wrong. Their limbs were twisted, as if they had once been human. Their mouths—too wide, teeth too many.
I ran.
The garden was gone.
Trees rose like iron bars. Darkness settled without warning, as if the sun had dropped from the sky. Branches clawed at my sleeves. Roots tangled beneath my feet. I could hear them behind me. Closer. Louder. Hungrier.I didn’t scream. I couldn’t. My breath was caught somewhere deep in my throat. I just ran. Then—I stumbled. My foot slammed into a jagged rock, and I collapsed. Pain bloomed in my ankle like fire. And then I felt it—hot breath against my leg. Teeth. Sharp. Inhuman. It bit into me. I screamed—raw, animalistic. My hands scrambled across the earth.
Blood soaked my jeans. Another bite. Another. My body seized with pain. I reached for a stone. My fingers curled around it, and I struck—once, twice. One of them yelped. I pulled myself up and ran, limping, crying. The path ended. My foot skidded on the dirt. I was at a cliff.
Fog swirled beneath, revealing a bottomless drop. The hyenas cornered me, saliva dripping, lips pulled into wicked grins.
One lunged.
I swung my leg. It connected. The creature shrieked, flew over the edge, and vanished into the mist. I turned to climb—scraped hands, torn nails. I was halfway up when— Pressure.
Fingers. On my ankle.
I looked down, ready to strike--
But it wasn't a hyena.
It was a hand.
Human.
And then--
a face.
Mine.
Eyes like glass. No expression. No sound. She stared at me—like I was something she didn’t recognize. And then she smiled. Not cruel. Not kind. Just... tired. She pulled. I slipped. My fingernails carved into the cliffside. I begged, but no sound came. She didn’t let go. She didn’t help. She just held on—
And jumped with me.
To Be Continued...
About the Author
Arushi Kashyap is a fiction writer from India who loves exploring different genres—from haunting thrillers to tender tales of love and loss. She finds inspiration in the blurred lines between dream and reality, often weaving emotion and imagination into every story she writes.
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