In modern storytelling, we have begun to focus on the sentient beings that may exist. Whether fantastical or realistic, the mystical antagonists in all of our stories have some semblance of consciousness and/or even morals. However, folk storytelling throughout the ages focused less on the humanoid and more so on the feral and bestial. When farms were razed and livestock killed the people looked for answers. To them, there could only be some malicious beast operating solely off of instinct. The thought that something would stain fields with blood and trail carcasses across fields was beyond imagination.
One of these creatures is only what I can assume we saw last night. It was not a creature from indigenous people’s stories that should not be spoken of or named. Nor was it a creature from a video game that, once the game is released, has a sudden spike in sightings. In all honesty, I don’t know what I saw, I wish I could say I did. I guess this story is not only that, but also an invitation for answers. Any speculation or advice is welcome, because it - whatever it is - is still there, and we can’t afford to leave before possibly encountering this thing again.
For context, my boyfriend and I typically have a date night once a week. WE both work quite a lot and like to set apart time to have a home-cooked meal together. We will also usually watch a movie, play a game, or something else to just spend quality time together. Last night was our weekly date night, and after a nice dinner of fondant potatoes and seared chicken we decided to go for a walk.
Walking at night is not really a huge issue; our apartment is by a busy main road and mostly well lit, so it feels safe a night. It at least used to feel safe at night. I slipped on my Crocs and a thick hoodie because it had been raining; my boyfriend, his Vans and a hoodie. We set out, leaving the door unlocked because we don’t expect to be too far.
I don’t want to bore with the mundane details of each turn and block of the apartment complex, but some detail is necessary. Towards the farthest end of the complex from the main entrance gate is a larger pond completely surrounded by tall chain link fencing. Since it’s blocked off, it’s mostly full of natural debris blown in by the wind and a huge herd of ducks.
As we approach, I step off the sidewalk and into the grass to get closer to the ducks, all of which are asleep peacefully. Southern Texan nights are full of sound, if you’re not from the area. Frogs, toads, cicadas, crickets, and other fauna all scream throughout the night. Last night, though, another sound was added to the orchestra of life forms. A deep groaning. Something that sounded like it resided on the other side of the pond, yet I could feel the noise rattling within my chest.
“Do you hear that?” my boyfriend whispered, attempting to not disturb whatever was making that noise.
“Yeah, what is it?”
“A frog, probably.”
“A frog?” I grilled, “Must be a huge fucking frog for it to be that loud!”
“No, it could be a frog or toad or something.”
“There’s no way it’s a frog!”
We bickered quietly for a few seconds before stepping further along the path, our attention attached to the noise with every stifled step. Once we were beginning to turn back towards the apartments, the noise of this creature…shifted. One call would echo from the far side of the pond, and then another would ring out on the near side. There was more than one! There had to be.
“It’s definitely some kind of animal, there’s a few,” my boyfriend tacked on to the list of theories.
“Are they over on the other side?”
“Wanna go exploring?”
“Exploring?
” “Sure! Why not?” my boyfriend offered, excitement slowly building.
“I’m down but we need to go lock the door first, we left it unlocked. Also I need to grab my phone just in case.”
I had left my phone in the apartment for no particular reason, but the other side of this pond was darker and I wanted my flashlight to light the muddy path. This was going to turn into a small hike rather than a light stroll around the complex, and I wanted to take precautions.
We take the short trip back to our door and run in. After a quick drink of water, grabbing of phones, and locking of the door, we were on our way out towards the main gate. To get to the other side of the pond, we needed to go out to the main road, walk about a block down, and through the parking lot of a Mexican restaurant and notary.
We get behind the notary, following the smallest stone path, until reaching the opposite side of the pond. It was quiet. The frogs had stopped croaking, and the small residual quacks of the ducks had died completely out. This is where the hairs on the back of my neck began to stand up. Something wasn’t right, it was like when you sleep with a fan every night and one night the power goes out. Even in that unconscious state you know something is off in the perfect silence that engulfs you. We quietly took a precursory glance around, unsure of really what we were looking for. Eventually the sound we heard before bellowed out. Just as far away as when we first heard it.
It was in the water. This was the silent conclusion the both of us came to, blankly absorbing any information we could get from this mysterious creature. As I stared into this body of water, I unintentionally held my breath, afraid to disturb the stillness. I could no longer hear my boyfriend’s breath, either. He, presumably, felt the same; didn’t want to be the drop that caused the ripple throughout the surface of the water.
Then the ripple came.
Our minds can process information quicker than we can consciously interpret that information and draw conclusions in the blink of an eye. During traumatizing moments, victims sometimes describe the image of their environment in perfect detail. In the same instance, our minds will black out unnecessary details after that initial “screenshot” in our mind. This is exactly what I experienced last night.
A small trough began to form on the surface of the water, as gentle ripples began to spread in either direction. These ripples pushed the debris, pine needles, and even ducks closer to the edges. The ducks remained unnaturally still, as if nothing was disturbing the water at all. The ripples grew in size, the trough grew deeper, and the image became instantly seared into my brain.
This is when the black out came. I remember very little of the next few moments. I remember breathing heavy and hearing heavy breaths from my boyfriend. I heard the slapping of shoes on concrete. I heard the rattling of chain link fencing followed by a sickening slap of wet on concrete. I smelled musty, wet air filling my lungs. I saw flashes of trees, parking lot, gate. I felt the sharp sting of overworked muscles traveling up my shins as I used every ounce of energy I could muster. The foggy cacophony crescendoing to the point of reaching our front porch.
Instinctively, I grab the doorknob to only be met with the deadbolt keeping it shut. Heart drumming in my ear, I fumble in my hoodie pocket for the keys, and manage somehow to shove them in the hole. As the door boomeranged open then closed again, the horrific wet slapping grew louder. No intention of keeping ourselves open to what had kept pace with us, we both shut the door, locking all three locks. Having felt both fight and flight, freeze took hold of my body. I stood, back to the door, frozen in place as my boyfriend slowly took station at the peephole.
Had his face not been flushed red from our sprinting, he would have been white as a sheet. His breath held, jaw slack, and eyes wide. I exhaled, having not done it in a while, and shook off my paralysis. He silently moved out the way to allow me a look. What layed outside should not have been able to happen in the few seconds between closing the door and looking through the peephole. The sidewalk leading to our door was soaked far more than the hours old rain had left. Debris from the lake littered the entire courtyard, like a flood had washed in and out in the blink of an eye. A stray duck was slowly making its way down the sidewalk, presumably walking back to its home. Our plants had been tossed around and spilled from their pots, soaked and muddy. Whatever destroyed our patio had disappeared.
We spent the night with the lights on as we slept, once we got to sleep, that is. The adrenaline that had been coursing through our veins took a while to settle, and once it had, the fear and anxiety began to set in. We eventually felt safe enough to get some restless sleep.
This morning I cleaned up our ruined plants, salvaging what I could. My boyfriend had to work so I was left alone, trying to piece together what could have possibly happened. I decided to post this here, in hopes of receiving answers. Or at the very least, get it off my chest. I truly have no idea what happened to us both last night, all I know is we were already looking to move. Last night just made us want to expedite that process as quick as we can.