Ignoring spelling errors and the more obvious problems (which I'll fix myself when it comes to editting), I'm interessted in what you have to say. Are there horrible flow issues? Is it boring? Is it cliched in anyway? Is the main character (Leo) dull? Is there anything you're confused about? All help will be appreciated
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Chapter One
Leo knew from the moment that he opened his eyes that something was wrong. His room, half-hidden in the darkness, felt… odd. Physically, he couldn’t see anything wrong with it, but he could sense an unusual, almost surreal tinge to the atmosphere.
Grunting, thoughts scrambled by sudden consciousness, he clambered from his bed, and swayed uneasily on his feet. He hugged at himself, shifting over to the radiator, and embraced it for its warmth. Still, the sense that something was wrong hung over him, even as the sleep seeped from his body.
Leo peered over at his clock. The red, glowing figures spelled out the time, 8:00am. His hand roved over the squat desk by his bed, searching for the lampshade. With a flick, his room was thrown into illumination. Leo cursed some more, his eyes screwed shut as a barrier against the invading light. After a few moments, he eased them open.
Even with the banishment of darkness, there was still something tugging at him. Like he was missing something obvious.
He stumbled across his room and pulled the door open. The hallway was shady, the morning sun only just able to escape past the various blinds that smothered the windows. He slipped into the bathroom, tugged at the cord that switched on the light, and eased the door shut.
He glanced into the small mirror placed on the wall, and a frown touched his features. There was a thin cut on his head, and a considerable amount of dried blood traced a thick line down the side of his face. ‘What the hell?’ He hadn’t cut his head before going to bed, so he must have somehow injured himself during sleep. That was hard to believe - what was there to cut him? Unless he sleepwalked, and didn’t know it.
He scratched at the dark blood, and a small amount crumbled off. With a sigh, he reached across the sink to retrieve a flannel, and wetted it under the tap. He dabbed gently at the dried blood, cleaning it off.
A strangled shriek snapped Leo from his task. He paused, unsure of what to do. Seconds trickled by. Perhaps a family member had just screamed in their sleep, like some form of sleep-talking? The silence that enveloped the scene seemed louder and more ominous than the scream.
He placed the flannel, now smudged pink, upon the sink, and slipped back out into the landing. Still silence. Treading softly, Leo strained his ears, listening for another sound.
With some surprise, Leo realised that a light had been lit on the floor below. The glow oozed up the stairway. He hesitated a second, and then walked down the stairs. Almost every step creaked, and the silence seemed to amplify the noise.
The hallway seemed horribly still. There was not a single person in sight, nor was there a sound. Someone must have left the light on before turning in last night. Leo began to turn, to go back up to the bathroom, when there was a sudden thud. Leo jumped, taken unaware.
The bang had come from the closed door that led into the lounge. The wooden sound of the knock echoed in his ears, and his heart sped up, knocking rapidly against his chest.
‘Hello?’ Leo queried. He received no reply. His arms trembled slightly as he reached for the door handle. As he turned it, he noted that no light shone through the crack under the door.
He threw the door open. It hit the springy stopper attached to the wall and rebounded, almost closing again. Leo stepped in, his hand played over the wall, found the switch and flicked it. The light snapped on.
Empty.
Once again, Leo felt as though he was missing something obvious, and the feeling was getting to him. He felt light headed, and unconsciously licked his dry lips. He turned to retreat to the perceived safety of the first floor, and cried out in alarm when he found his way blocked by a person. Stumbling backwards, back into the lounge, barely in control of his limbs, Leo struggled to find his voice.
It was a man. Dressed almost entirely in black, his pale skin looking as though it were stretched thin. Pale, silvery blond hair fell down over his rough features. His face was emotionless, and his dark eyes stared down at Leo.
‘Who- who are you?’ Leo said, his voice almost inaudible.
The man said nothing. He strode forwards, one of his arms reaching out for Leo, who frantically backed away. His back up against the wall, Leo’s thoughts were flying about hysterically. The man made a grab for Leo.
Leo darted under the arm, feeling incredibly numb all over. Everything was a rush - all he saw was a blur of colours and movement, and was almost surprised to find himself passed the man, rushing up the stairs.
‘Wake up, wake up!’ he yelled, wishing to alert his family to the intruder.
Silence met his calls. Heart hammering, eyes searching, limbs trembling, breath fast and shallow, Leo waited. He waited for someone in his family to respond. He waited for the man to come. He waited.
Nothing happened. Glancing horridly over the banister, Leo could not see the man. Impatient for his family - his mother, father and sister - to react, and for them all to deal with the problem together.
Silence.
Irked, Leo charged over to his parent’s bedroom, threw the door open wide and rushed in. The door banged shut behind him.
He stopped in the centre of the room, disorientated. A handful of seconds beat past, and Leo could only stand there.
His parents weren’t in the room. It wasn’t even his parents’ room. He had no idea where he was, or what the room was a part of. It was a plain enough room, white walls, simple black patterns repeating around them. A wardrobe set up against one of the four walls. A large mirror next to the door. There was a relatively large window set across the far side of the room. Outside, Leo could see it was day time, a blue sky painted across most of the view, with a clump of trees visible. He could tell they were high up - at least the third or fourth floor.
And then, like sunlight piercing a thick barrier of clouds, Leo suddenly realised what was irking him earlier. All those times he had felt as though he were missing something obvious...
He had never actually woke up. He had been, and continued too, inhabit a dreamscape, rather than the real world.
Quiet whimpering broke him from his musing. Turning his gaze from the window, Leo noticed a person on the bed, lying still. They were crying quietly.
His mind now bright and lucid by the revelation of the experience being a dream, he approached with a sort of detached curiosity, rather than the fear he had been plagued with for the past five or so minutes.
It was a girl, the same age as he, lying sprawled on the bed. She was bleeding terribly from her stomach, and her stained hands were grasping weakly at the wound. Her brown hair lay scrawled out around her head, almost like a halo.
Armed with knowledge that the experience was a dream, rather than cold, hard reality, Leo observed the girl with interest. It wasn’t anyone he had ever known - at least, as far as he could remember.
By the side of the bed was a sword, plastered crimson. It looked to Leo as though the wound had been inflicted by the weapon.
‘What’s your name?’ Leo said. He hoped that if he talked with her than perhaps - by some strange dream-logic - she would recover and be well. Even though he was aware that she wasn’t a real person, the very sight of her lying there so badly injured still affected him emotionally.
She looked up at him. Tears ran freely down her face. ‘Lucy Freeman,’ she whispered. Her voice was weak, and a small amount of blood dribbled over her lips as she spoke. ‘Help me, Leo.’
The door swung open. Leo spun, and found himself face to face with the man he had seen earlier. Leo sneered at him.
For the first time, the man spoke. ‘Tonight, I come for you.’
Leo opened his mouth to respond, to answer back to the strange creature standing in front of him, but the entire world seem to wobble around him. A second later, everything faded to black.
And Leo woke.
Sat eating breakfast in the kitchen, Leo stared blankly at the television. Like almost all teens - and Leo was nearing the end of that stage of life, at the age of eighteen - he disliked mornings. He considered being able to lie in late as one of life’s greatest luxuries. It was quarter past eight, and although many earlier risers considered such an hour to be late, Leo felt it was as touch earlier than he’d like. But he was meeting up with some mates, and he had to rise early to catch the bus in time.
As odd as the dream had been, now he had awoken it already felt like a distance memory, banished by the force of reality.
He ate his cereal without thinking, as though on automatic. The news flashed on. Leo watched, letting the words roll in one ear and out the other. Although the volume wasn’t particularly high, it echoed around the hard surfaces of the room, increasing the sound. He wondered what time his family would be getting up? His parents would probably be up soon, but Tess would lie in as long as she could.
He was jolted back to his surroundings by the news reader.
‘… Lucy Freeman was the latest victim in a string of murders,’ she said in an emotionless voice. ‘Each victim has been killed by a large bladed weapon, but apart from that, the only connection between each of them has been their age: all were in their late teens. The police are baffled by the killings as there doesn't appear to be any evidence to be found at the crime scenes.’
Leo stared in shock at his tele. His dream about the girl - it had come true! Or had already happened by the time he had dreamt... one of the two.
Slowly, he lowered the spoon that had been hovering just outside his mouth since he heard Lucy Freeman’s name. Should he tell anyone? Could he? Would anyone believe him? Would that make him a suspect?
It had been the man in his dream. Leo was sure - it had been that man who murdered Lucy. And all those other teenagers.
And he had said he was coming for Leo…
Leo phoned up his friends to tell them he wasn’t coming. ‘I feel like crap,’ he said. Only partly true - although he did physically feel slightly sick, mostly he was just as nervous as hell.
He spent the day locked inside his bedroom. He searched the internet, looking on news sites and forums for any information he cold gather on the killings. There had been five teens murdered so far. Would Leo be the sixth?
How could he have dreamt about the killer? Leo wasn’t one to believe in such things, but the incident had quickly changed his mind on the matter. It couldn’t just be a coincidence - it all fitted together to well. But then, it was a one off. He never jumped around in excitement and fear when a dream didn’t come true. But as much as Leo would have liked to have thought there was nothing to his dream, it just wasn’t possible.
Some time after two, Tess entered his room. ‘Mum’s getting annoyed that you haven’t eaten anything.’
‘I’m not well. I don’t feel hungry,’ Leo said. He was lying on his bed, staring blankly up at the ceiling.
‘You don’t sound ill. You just sound hungry, and I think some food will do you good.’
Leo turned his head on his pillow to look at her. She was only just twelve years old, and like so many girls at that age, was stubborn on any opinion she held. ‘Fine, I’ll have some toast. You just better hope I don’t puke it up afterwards, cos I’ll be aiming at you.’
‘I’ll make you the toast,’ Tess said. ‘Stay here and I’ll bring it up.’
Leo smiled weakly. ‘Thanks.’
At night, sleep just wasn’t going to happen. Leo lay awake, the lamp beside his bed left on. Under his covers he clutched an old baseball bat he had found. He jumped at every creak of the house, every car driving past, every noise he heard.
Eventually, however, tiredness began to overcome fear. Perhaps the man wasn’t coming. Maybe it was just a dream, and he didn’t really exist. After all, the girl in his dream might not have called herself Lucy Freeman... perhaps he just remembered the name wrong.
None the less, he fought as hard as he could to keep his eyelids propped open, and yet, the tiny little things seemed to be too much for him. Feeling incredibly weak and disorientated, sleep finally won the battle, and his head slipped back, his eyes closed, and his conscious mind switched off.
After what felt like mere seconds, Leo woke. Staring groggily straight ahead, it took him a couple of seconds to realise that the killer was standing hunched over his bed. He suddenly felt very awake.
He let out a terrified yell as he clambered in confusion out of bed, whacking uncontrollably with his baseball bat. The man stumbled back, a look of shock on his face. In his hand he held a sword.
Turning, Leo dashed for the door, pulled it open and stumbled outside into the hallway. He had to get away from this madman! But how? His head swivelled, looking from place to place. Maybe he could jump out a window and make a dash for it? Leo could probably lose him if he did that, and then go to the police.
The door next to his bedroom opened, and out stepped little Tess. ‘Leo, what’re you doing?’
Damn, he hadn’t thought about his family! Would the killer attack them too, or would he leave them in peace?
Where was the killer? Seconds were ticking by and the man had still not emerged from Leo’s bedroom.
‘Get back into your room and hide,’ Leo hissed.
A confused look crossed her face.
‘Now!’ Leo said.
Leo’s door opened, and the killer stepped out. After a second’s silence, Tess let out a shrill scream, her eyes widening as she stared at the man grasping the sword.
‘RUN!’ Leo roared, taking a desperate swing at the man. Tess remained like a statue, seemingly unable to move.
With a grunt, the murderer thrusted his sword forward, moving incredibly fast. No time to react in anyway! There was a sudden, sharp pain in Leo’s stomach. Slowly, feeling sick, he lowered his gaze, and stared down at the sword growing out of him.
The man let go of the hilt, leaving it stuck through Leo, and took a step back to examine his work.
Large quantities of blood gushed from the wound. Trembling and unable to speak, Leo slipped to his knees. His visions was failing, clouding up, became almost like the static on a TV. Unable to see, his other senses numbed also, he heard Tess sobbing, shouting his name. As though from a distance, he heard a door creak open and horrified screams. All dim.
Sound disappeared.
Feeling vanished.
Leo died.
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