was just out performing my usual evening walk with my best friend,
Chester. Chester being an Airedale mix has an innate inquisitiveness
embedded deep within his character; he simply must explore all of
life's many intriguing smells. Particularly on our customary walk
along the creek; after all this is his territory isn't it? As we
were briskly walking and Chester gleefully feasted upon the abundant
scents, a curious apparition seemed to reach for my attention...
The sun had already departed an hour or so since, and the evening's
shadows seemed strangely somehow haunting.
stared cautiously into the darkness. Chester now obediently positioned
directly by my side, ears pricked, tail fully extended, in sentry
mode. Were my eyes playing tricks? Surely there was someone, or
perhaps even more unnerving something, gleaming back from the darkness?
The harder I tried to focus, the less sure I became. I decided that
I was going to take no chances, so I turned and began marching the
300 yards to the road and safety from the shadows. Chester obviously
slightly put out at his abbreviated walk, reluctantly yet unquestioningly
followed suit. He panted a little harder as the pace increased further
still. I wanted frantically to scrutinize once more what lay behind
me and confirm to my self that this was ludicrous, and all in my
own imagination. Yet, a growing, nagging, overwhelming fear was
intensifying deep in my gut. The larger it grew, even more fearful
I became to look, frightened beyond all fathomable reason at the
prospect of what might be lurking there.
I was about a hundred feet from my goal and quite sure that I was
going to make it. The lights from the baseball field on the far
right of the road seemed now to shine like beacons of unblinking,
cold, delicious reason. I could sense Chester still scared; perhaps,
in a simple reaction to my previous dread, or maybe he truly sensed,
in that uncanny way dogs so often do, that something was indeed
behind us, stalking us.
is when it happened; a gentle tap on my right shoulder. I simply
began running again, faster than I would have believed possible.
Chester seemed now to enjoy the sport and keenly raced by my side.
We quickly made it to the safety of the road. Yet, I did not stop
running, not even a moment of hesitation, I continued as swiftly
as I could go, and despite the almost intolerable, throbbing ache
in my side, and my desperate panting, I somehow managed to sustain
the intense pace for the half mile back to my home-fear I discovered
is a remarkable motivator. At long last I was there! I fumbled for
my keys, with trembling hands, and slammed the door tight shut behind
me bolting it. I promptly turned on all the lights and then collapsed
onto my couch, now feeling the pain of my unexpected and unusual
sudden exertion. Chester gleamed at me excitedly, this was a
fun game, he surely must have been thinking.
as I lay there feeling secure within my safe haven I almost chuckled
at my nervousness, my heartbeat began to decrease and my trembling
ceased. Now it was obvious to me that it simply had to have been
my imagination working overtime; an imagination that has been fascinated
by ghosts, demons and mayhem since I was a young child. That tap
upon my shoulder? It simply had to be a falling branch. Yes, that
surely must have been what happened
relax I decided to do what I always want to do, write.
here I am, in my study; surrounded by a massive array of reassuring
books; Poe, Bierce, King and so many others. All my treasured companions
are collected in this, my most special of places.
even now something is amiss. I can't reasonably place my finger
on it. Did you ever have the sensation that you are being watched?
Studied? Even mocked? Then you will know precisely how I am feeling
as I try to sit, focus my thoughts and type this account. I can
not concentrate on my writing, and I find myself increasingly compelled
to stare out of the window into the night. My house, you must understand,
backs onto to the very creek that I just escaped from. During the
day it is a glorious vista, welcoming and alive. Yet now I can not
help but to gape into it, I am strangely captivated, perhaps even
mesmerized. The hairs on the back of my neck are trying to desperately
warn me something is about to happen. Something bad
my god. Surely this can not be real. This is far worse than even
my most horrendous of nightmares.
are real, and they are here