[ WP ] A horror novelist finds out that his/her story is becoming real

Jack set his pen down to the left of his notepad. He dragged his eyes listlessly across the half finished page. `` Another slow night.'' He thought. Defeated, he stood up and walked himself over to the fridge. The soft yellow light drifted through the sparse setting of his kitchen. As the darkness ebbed and succumbed to the encroaching light Jack let himself bathe in the shadows. `` I should really hang a poster or something. Anything to take away from the flatness.'' His thoughts rang dully in his head. He reached for the orange juice hidden behind the assortment of beer and condiments. `` If I ever bring a girl home she might think I'm boring.'' Jack closed the fridge and sat himself at his table, opposite an empty chair. He thought back to the last time he had even brought a woman back to his apartment. It seemed so long ago, Jack could still remember the way her eyes went dark when he showed her in. As if he had anything to impress her. `` Why would she come home with me if she was just going to complain the whole time?'' He thought. Jack could still remember the way she insulted him. `` Its so dim in here, do n't you have any decorations?'' She had said. `` It almost looks like a murderer sleeps here.'' Jack had been insulted at that jape but the vague promise of sex had suppressed his anger. Thump Thump Thump. The noise had come from the ceiling. Jack sighed, `` The Cliftons are awake.'' He said aloud. Jack stood up and returned to his notepad. The page stood in front of him, half finished. Its ink stained pulp only served to mock him at this point. It had been three weeks since he'd finished more than one line in a night. He often found himself hunched over the parchment, toiling over every pen stroke. Though for all his suffering he quite rarely met his own standards. Jack picked up his pen and attempted to forge ahead. The pen began to move when he heard it again. Thump Thump Thump. The Cliftons resumed their ceaseless racket. Frustrated, Jack breathed deeply and started again. His composure came seeping out when he heard the noise once more. Thump Thump Thump. `` I cant stand this shit!'' Jack yelled. He threw himself from the desk and headed towards the door. Jack raced up the stairs preparing himself for a confrontation. `` Every fucking night.'' He muttered. Jack stared at the brass embroidering on the door before him. `` 804.'' The metal read. Jack threw his fist against the door. Striking as hard as he could. `` Open up!'' He called. Jack waited. Then he heard it again. Thump Thump Thump. This time the noise came from below him. Puzzled, Jack turned to the stair case and peered over the railing. Thump Thump Thump. It did n't make sense, he could have sworn the noise had come from the Clifton's apartment. Jack begun to walk down the stairs. Thump Thump Thump. This time even louder. Jack squinted at the ceiling, trying to peer out the noise. `` Just... concrete.'' He mused. Gently, he sulked back down to his hovel. Shutting the door behind him Jack drifted through the apartment. `` If not the Clifton's, then where?'' He thought numbly. Thump Thump Thump. Jack's eyes snapped upwards. The pale ceiling met his gaze. `` A rat?'' He thought, `` Or... what if.'' Jack crossed into his bedroom. Shadows were strewn about the modest space, falling in thin strips across the pale green carpet. He lifted his eyes to the desk where his notebook sat. His lone desk lamp flooding the table with a flaxen luminescence. Gingerly he approached the notepad and soaked in his creation. Between the chicken scratch hand writing and incessant corrections Jack had made, there were times the writing seemed illegible. Still, he stared. Writers block had plagued him for far too long, but the story ached to be completed. As a child Jack had never been afraid of the monsters under his bed, or in his closet. Where most children quivered under their bed sheets, Jack had lingered. Hoping to meet the monster's gaze, see its teeth, or better yet to capture it. As Jack grew old and those fantasies were shed, but he discovered a new way to capture those monsters. The only cage he found suitable was between the pages of his notebook. Though Jack had been unable to contribute to his story for a few months now, he never had any trouble designing his villain. Creating the monster was always his favorite. When he had first started Jack would stay up into the late hours of the night enraptured in the folds of his text. Adding a second set of teeth or changing the eyes from red to yellow. It took months for Jack to finally decide on a creature for his book but the time slid by so quickly it had felt as if it were only a few days. Jack felt his face curl into a reluctant grin. He could still see the ghoulish thing. Black skinned, so it could blend with shadows. Crystal blue eyes that seemed to drink all of the light, Jack's favorite part. He loved the way his monster would walk, almost like a man but one born with backwards knees. `` Maybe, it could stick to the ceiling.'' Jack thought. `` Or maybe the monster could slide through the floorboards. Or even...'' Jack stopped himself. `` If I start now I'll never get to bed.'' Jack turned the light off and let the shadows claim the room. As he lay in bed Jack's head danced with nightmares as sweet as honey. Rows of razor sharp teeth and eyes as dark as night frolicked in his lucid state, when suddenly he woke. Thump Thump Thump. 
 Drunk on sleep, Jack sat up. Grasping for answers, he looked around the room. Nothing. Thump Thump Thump. This time a bit louder. Still inebriated Jack's eyes searched for any clue to the sound. Thump Thump Thump. Now directly above him. Thin tendrils of fear shot through Jack's spine, raising the hairs on his neck. His heart attacked his chest trying to break free. All the sound seemed to drain from Jack's bedroom aside from his heartbeat. Thump Thump Thump. Even louder. `` Leave me alone!'' Jack prayed. Then silence washed over his room. His heartbeat faded to a distant metronome, and even the air outside his window seemed to fall into a gentle lull. Above him, two crystalline moons hung from the ceiling. Jack stared deep into the azure pits, waiting. He felt his heartbeat rise once more. The sapphires twitched once, then seemed to grow larger. Jack felt the cut of forty razors as they kissed his throat. Even as the room grew darker, Jack never lost sight of the blue eyes that met his. `` They're beautiful.'' Jack thought. `` And so is he.''
