Deadly paranoia

There was an almost deathly silence in that austere cold room with blank white walls, illuminated solely by a few rays of sunlight that entered through the closed window. A lamp was hanging from the ceiling, but it had burnt out a few days ago and wasn't able to offer any more light. The only sounds and proofs that there was still at least one tiny shred of life left in that lonely bedroom, was the rhythmic ticking of the clock hanging on the wall and the labored breathing of the person who was sitting in a corner on the floor, wrapped into a blanket. That young man, whose name was Arthur and who was looking like a living corpse, was shaking like a leaf. The only visible part of his body was his pale, emaciated face with wide opened green eyes and dark circles under them, caused by insomnia. Eyes that were staring at said clock and telling stories of unspeakable horror they had seen, of endless, eternal nightmares. Of a life that was hell itself. Cold sweat was running down his unusually thick eyebrows, and his blond hair was sticking to his forehead, to the wound he had inflicted on himself a few hours ago. When he had been banging his head against the wall out of sheer desperation. Arthur had already reached a point where he almost couldn't remember who he even was anymore, but was still perfectly aware of the fact that what he was leading right now couldn't be called a life. He wasn't living, but merely existing, slowly burning down like a small candle. Almost for a week he hadn't been able to eat nor sleep, and now had nothing left anymore but an endless paranoia, a scary voice in his head that was whispering, laughing, singing, giving orders and SCREAMING. Sometimes so loud that he was afraid of going deaf. Even though that voice only appeared when it was dark, right after the sunset, Arthur felt that it was always there, never leaving him for good, not even for a second. And that feeling was literally driving him insane. But there was more: that voice belonged to a face, a horrible ugly monstrous face with an abnormal smile that was showing all its teeth and turquoise eyes, shining like flashlights in the darkness. The mere thought of it caused an icy shudder to run over Arthur's entire body. During the last few days, he understood that this creature wished to finish him off in order to take over his body. And as it seemed, it was about to reach its goal, since the poor victim had almost no strength to spare anymore, neither to fight, nor to bear it. But, despite everything, a tiny flame of life was still burning inside of him: he didn't want to die, didn't want to give up, didn't want to believe that all hope was gone and would never return. This is why he had been banging his head against the wall, it was a last desperate attempt to free himself from that monster. But it didn't work. The creature was still there and mocking him — he knew that perfectly, even without being able to see nor hear it yet. And he also knew and sensed that no one and nothing would save him anymore. The little flame was about to go out. Almost having lost his ability to think clearly, Arthur continued to follow the movements of the clock's hands with his eyes. They were steadily bringing him towards his end, a certain death, and time was mercilessly passing, giving a damn about all his suffering and the terrible fear of ceasing to exist. The hours, minutes, and seconds ran by like trains passing by platforms with full speed. There was almost no time left, the sun would set soon and steal the last remaining light from Arthur's room, abandoning him to his fate and the monster in his head. Yes, that cruel sun would betray him again, like it did every evening. Like the whole world, the whole universe... And now, the time had come. The sun was starting to leave, and the sky to change its colors. The bells of the church near Arthur's house were announcing the arrival of the night and the return of the creature. Arthur exhaled shakily and began waiting, letting out quiet whimpers filled with fear and clinging to the blanket with shaking fingers. It had gotten so dark, he couldn't see anything anymore. Not even the clock. But he still couldn't hear any sound except for its ticking. An hour passed. Two. Three. Still silence. Could it be that the monster had suddenly given up and disappeared, having decided to let him in peace? Could it be that he was free now, free to continue to live? To lead a normal life and sleep at night without that disgusting voice in his head? Tears started to flow down Arthur's cheeks, who had forgotten during all that time what real hope felt like. Hot tears of happiness, of relief... ...that turned in a matter of seconds into tears of pain and horror. Arthur couldn't breathe anymore. Someone had suddenly started to choke him with all their might. No, not someone. But he himself. His own hands were squeezing his throat shut against his will. Without any hesitation nor mercy. Arthur understood that it was the creature's doing, but couldn't do anything about it. Out of horror and desperation, he bit his lower lip with his last remaining strength, and blood and saliva ran down his trembling chin. His weak, exhausted body didn't have the slightest chance to put up any resistance against that supernatural, murderous force, and the struggle soon came to an end. Life left Arthur's body, including his wide opened eyes, where the last traces of fear still remained burned in. The monster had waited on purpose for the right moment to finish him off, since it wanted to see the highest amount of desperation and destroyed hope on his face while killing him. To receive the biggest enjoyment possible from its victory. And now, the victim's dead body was lying on the floor. The tears that had been shed during his last moments, were soaking through the blanket that had fallen from Arthur's shoulders during the fight.  But the body didn't stay there for long. Suddenly, it started moving again, showing signs of life. A monstrous smile appeared on his lips, and his eyes started to shine with an unearthly turquoise color in the dark, like the eyes of a predator during a nightly hunt. That body wasn't Arthur's anymore. "That's it, Artie... now you're finally mine!" And the church's bell struck midnight.