The Twelfth Drummer: Christmas Flash Fiction

The short story below was inspired by the twelve drummers drumming in the Twelve Days of Christmas song. I hope you enjoy it 🙂

The Twelfth Drummer

I awaken, sitting bolt upright, sweating, a scream on my lips. I swallow. My breath comes in ragged pants.

The dream feels so real, that for a moment I question whether that was reality and this is the dream.

I can hear it. The pounding sound of the drummers.

My mind takes me back into the dream.

***

The drummers, eleven of them, marching to their beat. Their uniforms ragged, hanging off their bodies in shreds. And their faces. Oh my God, their faces.

Where there should have been eyes and a mouth, there’s nothing. Just a blank canvas.

I stand in the centre of my road, alone, as they come towards me. I can’t move, can’t call out. As they come closer, I feel a sense of inevitability that I can’t describe.

***

I wake up before they reached me. I always do.

But each night, after I awaken, I hear it. The sound of their drums outside.

I have spent weeks enduring this torture. I have been torn between wanting to know their purpose and never wanting to find out what they want from me.

I won’t have to wait much longer to know why they are here. Every night, the sound gets a little bit closer. Tonight, it’s finally close enough that I know I will see them.

My feet move of their own accord. I go to the window and peer out. I see them. They march in perfect formation down the centre of my road, their drumsticks bouncing out their rhythm.

As I watch, they stop as one and each faceless head turns in my direction. They are waiting for me to go out there. They are waiting for me to learn my fate.

I don’t want to go down there, but I know it’s inevitable. I have to face my fate.

I can feel my stomach turning to ice inside of me, and my pulse is so fast I can see white spots floating in front of my vision. But still I move towards the bedroom door.

Somehow, I know instinctively that if I don’t face them, they will return every night until I do, and that is more than I can bear.

“Where are you going?” Joshua asks.

I forgot he was there. It’s a bad time for a one-night stand, but I felt drawn to him and now I’ve dragged him into my mess.

“Bathroom,” I respond.

“Liar,” he says, his voice filled with venom.

Startled, I turn back. I feel like my mind is going to explode when I see him. Where his face should be there’s a tight mask of featureless skin.

“How are you talking?”

How is that the question I utter? I guess I feel like I’ll be able to handle that answer.

“I’m not talking in the literal sense. You are reading my thoughts. Your brain is wired differently to that of most people. It’s how my army were able to penetrate your dreams, and its why we need to take you.”

“Take me? Take me where?” I ask.

Fear and confusion swirl through me.

“To Hell,” he responds simply. Like it should make sense to me.

I can’t breathe. I want to scream but I can’t.

“You should be pleased. You are one of us now.”

It’s too much to take in. I feel my knees buckle and everything goes black.

***

I can hear the pounding rhythm of the drums. It’s loud. Louder than it’s ever been. I try to block it out, but I can’t. It’s a part of me now and I’m a part of it.

I glance to my left. A soldier marches in time with the rhythm we play. I glance to my right and see the same. I don’t need to look down to confirm what I already know. I am one of them. I am the twelfth drummer of Hell and I am on my way to deliver the next unsuspecting soul.

This story was taken from my collection, Twisted Tales 3. If you enjoyed it, I’m sure you’ll enjoy the other stories in the collection and in Twisted Tales and Twisted Tales 2 as well. They’re all just 99p, so there’s no reason why you shouldn’t treat yourself – go on, it’s Christmas!

Did you enjoy the story? Let me know in the comments 🙂

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