Arm Wrestling
Flash Fiction Horror Story
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Tom was exhausted.
Eight hours of work, four hours of commuting, and an hour of dishes: he needed to sleep.
He sat on the toilet scrolling when the low battery notification popped up. Sigh.
He rose, brushed his teeth and walked into the bedroom.
His phone was old and didn’t charge through the USB-C anymore.
Tom circumvented this by using a charging pad that lay on the floor where a bedside table should be. He bent over to put the phone on it, waiting for the charging light to come on, but to no avail.
He often had to adjust the mobile’s position until it was lined up just right.
He moved it slightly up, then down, his will to sleep growing with each minor adjustment.
Still nada.
He groaned loudly, picked it up, and placed it back down. The green light came on.
Charging.
Something reached out from under the bed and grabbed his wrist.
Tom squealed.
A long thick leathery hand had clamped down on his arm.
It suddenly pulled out of sight.
Tom was yanked to the floor. His chin bounced off of the wood and he bit his tongue, the taste of blood flooding his mouth. The thing pulled him until his shoulder was right up to the base of the bed.
Tom shrieked. He hoped his neighbor would hear and call the police.
He felt another hard jerk on his arm. He tensed his body so he wouldn’t fit under the bed.
Tom was 6”2 and weighed 260lbs so he had leverage to hold out, but whatever had his wrist had the strength of a gorilla. His arm was burning with pain.
He tried to pull back but there was no give.
It was too powerful. His adrenaline wasn’t helping.
Tears began to burn his eyes as he desperately tried rolling away on the floor. He did anything he could to pull his arm from under the bed.
His elbow ached and his bicep was strained beyond belief.
Pain started rippling through his shoulder. He’d never experienced anything like it. He felt like he was being torn apart.
He screamed again, shouting at the top of his lungs until he voice cracked.
He called for Trudy, for anybody. He’d call for God if it would help.
There was a sickening snap and his shoulder twisted unnaturally out of its socket.
Tom’s screams died with a whimper, his hollers for help forsaken in favor of weeping sobs of pain as his whole body ached from the strain of his fight.
He could see the joint in his arm swiveling around as whatever held it explored different ideas of how to free it from his possession.
“PLEASE!” Tom cried.
Maybe it spoke English. Maybe it would let him go.
“PLEASE STOP!”
The nerves in his detached limb kept sending jolts of electricity through his inflamed shoulder whenever it twisted. He kicked his legs helplessly.
Suddenly he felt a hard jerk. Then another.
He screamed in pain, but with a final persistent tug the skin around his shoulder started to tear and spray blood.
Tom choked as the liquid splashed in his face. The monster gave a final heave and ripped his arm off.
Waves of nausea were washing through his head as the shock prevented him from grasping reality.
He tried to stand, but without his right arm his glenoid cavity knocked the floor and he slipped in his blood, collapsing in a heap.
There was a smash as the front door to his apartment was broken in.
The police were here. Trudy had heard his cries for help.
They rushed through the house calling for Tom, following the slowly growing puddle of blood that was oozing across the threshold of the bedroom.
Tom lay on the ground sobbing, a mutilated mess, nursing his empty socket.
“What happened?” the first policemen shouted.
Shaking, Tom could only wail and limply point at the bed.
The three officers approached in unison, grabbing the bed frame and heaving the piece of furniture out of the way in one fluid motion.
There was nothing there except dusty, unpacked boxes, lost socks and a long glistening smear of Tom’s blood.
Hey there! Seb here! I just wanted to thank you for choosing to spend your time reading my work. I’m so grateful that you chose to come on this journey with me and I hope it has prompted some fun questions for you to enjoy thinking about in the future.
My questions for you: What would you do if something grabbed you from under the bed?
Do you think you could win in that situation?
Feel free to leave a comment about any of your thoughts on this story or any of the ideas it inspired! Your support means a lot and I am honored that you’re here.
Thank you.
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I loved that. Just the right amount of spooky.
Love it! This would be a fun one to tell around a campfire. Spooky.
If something grabbed me and tried to pull me underneath my bed, I might let it happen. 😁