Behind the Lines of Hell || Scary Stories to Tell in the Dark ( Horror Story) By Debopam Rai Chaudhuri

 

Behind the Lines of Hell

Short Story : Behind the Lines of Hell

Scary Stories to Tell in the Dark ( Horror Story)  

By Debopam Rai Chaudhuri . All Copyright Reserved 2018

Behind the Lines of Hell, Horror Story… I am Sergeant Alan Davis, an Army veteran whose experiences on the battlefield pale in comparison to what I faced on a mission that took us beyond enemy lines, to the very depths of the abyss.

 

This story begins on a mission whose objective is not relevant to this story. The warmth of the desert sun mixed with the dust raised by our steps. Our unit, well known in its time, so I will not give real names because some are still alive, was made up of men whose faces had been carved by war.

 

 

Each of us carried the weight of responsibility on our shoulders, knowing that our actions could change the course of history.

 

The mission lay before us like a labyrinth of dangers and adversities. Every step was imbued with uncertainty, and every glance conveyed the tension that had taken root in our souls.

 

On the first night in the desert, as the stars aligned in a vast dark sky, we set up our makeshift camp near an oasis. Despite the apparent tranquillity, the wind carried an eerie whisper that crept across the sand. The feeling of being watched, stalked by something beyond our understanding, stabbed at our minds like sharp thorns.

 

Our feeling was confirmed the first night, I can remember it perfectly, the soldier Simon, who was a brave and lively young man, began to act strangely during one of the night guards.

 

 

I was the first to notice his strange behaviour when he returned, as he did not respond to my request to give me his report. However, we all noticed when his eyes clouded over and his voice acquired a guttural tone as he pronounced words in an arcane language .

 

The camp was filled with tension as we tried to contain him, but his strength seemed supernatural. It was as if unknown forces were controlling him.

 

Simon eventually collapsed, unconscious, but the seed of fear had been planted in our hearts. The doctor examined his condition and found in him an inexplicable medical enigma. We decided to keep him isolated, safe from whatever had possessed him. Uncertainty turned to paranoia, and every corner of the night became a stage where the unknown lurked.

 

The days passed, and the shadow of a dark influence loomed ever closer over us. Every whispered conversation, every shadow that seemed to slip into the corner of our eyes, reminded us that we were not alone in that desolate corner of the world. But we were soldiers, trained to face adversity, and that kept us steadfast in our mission.

 

 

It was during a stormy night that we realized the inescapable truth. Simon woke up, having become very quiet since that night and refusing to tell us what had happened. His eyes were windows into the unknown. His voice echoed in the air like a poisonous snake as he spoke words in a language forgotten by mankind.

 

Horror gripped us as, one by one, several of our soldiers began to exhibit similar symptoms. Their eyes reddened, their voices murmured in a language we could not understand. We were trapped in a nightmare, prisoners of forces beyond our understanding.

 

Some of the soldiers, who were not under any kind of influence, began to pray, seeking comfort in the prayers they had learned as children. Since I had not been raised under any religion, I had no idea how to accompany them, so I just repeated the little I understood about them. However, as we did so, the words of the prayers faded from the minds of my companions, as if someone or something was preventing them from remembering them. It was as if they were disconnected from the faith they once had, and therefore, I could not continue either.

 

Soldiers who had not fallen victim to whatever was happening struggled to remember the prayers that had once been a central part of their lives. The inability to find solace in religion intensified our sense of despair and isolation. Yet we were determined not to give in to the unknown.

 

Finally, as if by divine gift or by strange coincidence, calm returned to the camp. The first rays of the sun began to peek over the horizon, dispelling the darkness that had been suffocating us. The change was almost instantaneous. The soldiers affected by demonic possession regained their voices and consciousness, while the evil influence seemed to recede before the light of day.

 

 

The sense of relief was palpable in the air, but it was also tinged with caution. As the sun rose in the sky, revealing the devastation spreading around us, we realized that something larger and more sinister was at play. The soldiers who had been affected had strange marks on their bodies, it was as if they had been branded with boiling iron, the symbols were strange but that was not the worst of it. On their feet were various wounds from which they were bleeding profusely, none of it made sense.

 

The soldiers who had been possessed by the evil recognized what they had done under its influence and struggled to come to terms with the horror of their own actions. Disbelief and confusion were in their eyes as they grappled with guilt and shame. I tried to get some to tell me what they had felt, however the few who could talk about it told me they had felt a pang and then it was all just cloudy memories.

 

That experience had been terrifying, a constant struggle between the human and the inhuman, the tangible and the spectral. Despite being a skeptic of the paranormal, I found myself facing the inexplicable, that which defied all logic and reason. The need to find a logical explanation led me to question what I had experienced.

 

Even after calm returned, I couldn’t help but consider other explanations. My mind searched for patterns, connections, and motives behind what we had faced. The theory that some kind of forbidden substance had been poured into our canteens began to take shape. The idea that someone might have wanted to discredit us and make us look incompetent took hold in my mind.

 

I took the initiative to make contact with the affected soldiers and their superiors. It was important that we find answers, even if those answers lay in the darkest depths of the conspiracy. I arranged for the soldiers to be sent back to their homes, as they needed rest and medical attention. The betrayal we had faced on the battlefield seemed to have spread to a darker, more sinister level.

 

In the days that followed, my mind continued to search for evidence and explanations. Despite my skepticism, paranoia began to creep into my psyche. I eyed the water in the canteens with suspicion, suspecting that some kind of substance had been poured into them. Toxicological tests yielded no answers, but my mind refused to give in to uncertainty.

 

 

The tranquility of those days collapsed on a sinister night, a night that sank into my memory like a poisoned dagger. We were in the camp, recovering from our traumatic experiences.

 

My mind was still caught in the whirlwind of the traumatic experiences we had faced. But even as my eyelids closed in search of respite, the horrors of the past found their way into my dreams. Intense fear enveloped me, a feeling that I was being watched by unseen eyes. I tried to fight off the monsters lurking in my nightmares, but their power seemed unbreakable.

 

Then, a noise shook me from my sleep, and my eyes flew open. The darkness of the night surrounded me, but what really woke me was a demonic voice that seemed to whisper in the shadows. The words were unintelligible, as if they belonged to a language that should never have existed. My heart pounded with uncontrolled violence as I struggled to understand what was happening.

 

As my eyes adjusted to the dim light, my gaze shifted to the corner of my eye, and what I saw filled me with a terror that took my breath away. A horribly thin, inhumanly tall figure slithered between the bunks in the camp. Each step echoed with a hollow, ominous sound, as if only bones were crashing against the floor. Fear gripped my throat, threatening to suffocate me as I watched in horror at the macabre dance unfolding before my eyes.

 

The figure was little more than a distorted shadow, its features dark and blurry, but its presence was impossible to ignore. Its steps were firm, as if nothing could stop it, and its movements were measured and deliberate. It was as if it were searching for something, or someone. Fear turned to immobilizing terror as the humanoid specter approached where we slept.

 

My muscles were tense, my mind screaming for flight, but I was caught in a state of paralysis that can only be understood by those who have faced the incomprehensible. I watched as it came to a stop just above the bunk of one of my companions, its long limbs seeming to stretch and twist into inhuman shapes.

My companion lay asleep, unaware of the danger that loomed over him. I wanted to scream, to warn him, but my voice was caught in my throat, another victim of the paralysis that held me back. The figure leaned down, its face barely visible in the darkness. My heart was beating so hard I felt like it could burst from my chest at any moment.

 

The creature came closer, its invisible breath seeming to envelop me in a nightmare cloud. As its features became more discernible, I saw its eyes, two glowing red points that seemed to burn with a malevolent intelligence. It was as if it were staring through flesh and bone, straight into my soul.

 

Terror held me immobilized, but what happened next was etched into my mind like a nightmare that would never fade. The figure moved away from me, back to my companion, its bony hand slowly reaching out towards him. And then, as if time itself had slowed, I saw its fingers pass through my companion’s body, as if it were passing through the air.

 

It was like a supernatural act, something that defied all laws of reality. My mind struggled to comprehend what was happening as I watched in horror as the figure seemed to begin to suck something invisible out of my companion. His chest sagged unnaturally, as if the very essence of his being was being ripped from his body.

 

I wanted to scream, to release the terror that imprisoned me, but my voice remained a distant echo in my throat. My muscles felt as if they were wrapped in invisible chains, unable to break free from the grip of fear. I watched as the figure retreated from my companion, its task seemingly complete.

 

It was only when the first rays of the sun began to peek over the horizon that I felt the spell of fear break. My limbs trembled as I was finally able to move, and I sat up in the bunk. I looked around, but the figure had disappeared, as if it had never been there.

 

My first reaction was to run to my companion, fearing the worst. My heart sank in my chest as I saw his limp form. He was cold as ice, and touching his skin, his stiffness was evident. My mind struggled to process what I was seeing: his dry, withered body, as if something had drained not only his life, but every drop of moisture and vitality from his being.

 

The vitality in my comrade's being had been drained, his body now lying as a vestige of what it had once been. Panic gripped us all as we saw his corpse, a gruesome reminder of the terrifying night we had shared. Without giving it much thought I thought to contact my superiors, for immediate relocation, however, upon attempting to do so I discovered that our radio, the only source of communication had been viciously broken.

 

The lack of communication left us at the mercy of our own thoughts and fears, and uncertainty surrounded us like a dark veil. We were trapped in an unknown place, with no way to communicate with the outside world. However, we knew that we just had to wait until they came to get us. There was one more night before the mission in that cursed place finally concluded, however, that wait seemed to be an eternity of anguish. To avoid further inconvenience, we decided to stand guard in case anything happened.

The decision to keep watch proved to be one of the worst we could have made. The tension in the air was palpable as we took turns keeping watch, our gazes fixed on the darkness, our ears alert for any sound out of the ordinary. Every whisper of the wind seemed like a malevolent murmur, every shadow a possible danger.

 

The night dragged on agonizingly, each second feeling like an eternity. My companions and I shared nervous glances, our expressions reflecting the fear that bound us together in a silent bond. The silence was oppressive, a constant reminder that we were at the mercy of the unknown.

 

Finally, the time came for me to be relieved of duty. Exhaustion weighed on my eyelids as I fought off the sleep that threatened to overtake me. I laid down on my bunk, my mind struggling to find calm amidst the storm of fears. I closed my eyes, seeking a momentary escape from the terrifying reality that surrounded us.

 

But rest was not meant to be mine. A piercing scream erupted through the air, a scream that reverberated through every corner of the place. I shot up, heart hammering in my chest as darkness enveloped me. The camp was in chaos, panicked voices echoing around me as everyone tried to make sense of what was happening.

 

Struggling to focus my vision in the confusion, I saw one of my companions being dragged out of the room by an unseen force. Terror gripped me as I realized that it was he who had been relieved of my guard just moments ago. My hands searched for my gun, and with it in hand, I ran into the darkness, pushing my fears aside for the urgency of the situation.

 

The scene outside the camp was in total chaos. Shadows seemed to come to life, moving in erratic patterns that defied logic. I saw my companion being dragged across the ground, his body twisted in an inhuman posture as he emitted desperate cries for help. The creature was a shadowy presence, barely discernible in the darkness, but its intent was clear.

 

With my heart in my throat and determination burning in my chest, I raised my gun and fired at the creature. The shots echoed through the night, but the creature was faster than I could have anticipated. It vanished into the darkness, as if it had merged with the shadows surrounding it. My bullets only hit empty air, a futile testament to my attempt to defend my companion.

 

The chaos continued around me as my companions tried to make sense of what they had witnessed. My words mixed with the screams of the others as we tried to understand what had happened. But as I looked around, I realized that the creature had completely disappeared. My companion had also disappeared, swept away into the night without a trace.

 

We stood in the darkness, bewilderment and despair growing in our hearts. The creature and the supernatural events seemed to have woven a web of terror and confusion around us. We had no answers, only a paralyzing fear that threatened to break our sanity.

 

We decided to mount a search to find our missing companion. Armed with flashlights and guns, we ventured out into the dark night, our footsteps echoing in the sand as we explored the surroundings. The atmosphere was charged with tension, every shadow seemed to take on a life of its own, and the wind whispered in our minds like an ominous warning.

 

As we advanced, we discovered traces of blood and signs of a struggle. The ground was marked by confused and deep footprints, which could only be the result of a fierce fight. We dared to follow the tracks, guided by the hope of finding our companion alive, but also by the fear of what we might discover.

 

The days that followed after that fateful night became an agony of unanswered questions. The superiors finally arrived, their presence bringing with it an air of relief, but also silence. They informed us that my comrade had deserted, that he had run away from his duty and his responsibility. We, who had faced the horrors of that night, looked at each other in silence, knowing the truth was beyond what we could say.

 

The official story was manipulated to hide the horrors we had faced. In the eyes of the world, my colleague had abandoned his post and his honour. The truth was buried under layers of lies and denials, and we were forced to accept that version in order to protect his loved ones from the terrifying truth.

 

The story would never be told, another victim of cover-up and fear. But for those of us who lived through it, the night of the inhuman creature would remain an indelible memory. My companion's face and his cries for help were etched in my mind, a constant warning that there are shadows in this world that can never be understood, nor forgotten. I don't know what that creature was, but I am certain of what I saw and I hope I never experience anything like it again.

Copyright © 2018 Debopam Rai Chaudhuri

All rights reserved. No part of this story may be reproduced, distributed, transmitted, or stored in any form or by any means, including electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or any other method, without the express written consent of the author. This includes, but is not limited to, publishing in any format (print or digital), translation into any language, adaptation, or any other form of distribution.

Unauthorized use, reproduction, or adaptation of this work will be pursued to the fullest extent permitted by law.