I like to night walk, especially on rainy nights. There’s a melancholic beauty to it. It’s as addictive as crack, and as pleasurable as sex. Fortunately, last night was that exact occasion. So like usual, I went on a stroll to the nearest park.
This was an ugly fucken park. But it’s all I got. Essentially a river with a few bike paths. All but completely devoid of trees and with grass as long and unkempt as a castaway’s hair. The river was a thick shit colour. Even when it’s frozen in the winter.
I was probably an hour in at this time, and I felt a tingle, all the way down my spine. It felt like cold fingers walking down every one of my vertabrates. So I turned back, acknowledging my bodies’ want to get the fuck out of here, but the feeling didn’t stop.
At this point, the feeling had conquered the whole of the back of my body. My head felt like I drank a few too many, and my shins felt the freezing grasp the fingers tightening around it. Almost pulling them down into the ground. Being the paranoid turd that I am, I turn my head behind me, and see a dark figure, perfectly matching my pace. This startled me at first, but then logic kicked in, telling me it was just another night walker.
By now I left my park, and was about to make the turn to my neighborhoods alley. But the chill, the fucking chill, along with the paranoia forced my head over my shoulder. And it was the guy, now illuminated over the street lamp. His face, or lack of face caught my attention first. In its stead was a sickening moosu black void. Whatever it had for eyes were digging into me, its skin, was as white as paper.
What kept me from taking off running could’ve been crippling fear, maybe it was some insidious power it had over me. Then it took a step. The chilled fingers took hold of my body once again, further cementing myself into the ground. The rain felt like rocks. The ground was as if it were eating my legs. Slowly, and painlessly. Lowering me into the ground. Every step it took amplified this feeling.
It’s legs kept growing. Like a fucking Trevor Henderson creation, growing in speed. By the time I could run through sheer adrenaline. It was maybe 20 feet from me. I didn’t dare look behind me. The only hint of him chasing me was the guttural, low, roar that took over my senses. It had a sick clicking sound to it, like it was trying to lure me over there. Or it was angry.
By some miracle, I reached my house. I didn’t care how hot it got, not a single.fucking.window. would be open. I check my windows. All clear, I’m finally safe. Suddenly, my doorbell gets rung, I hear a little girl say “girl scout cookies” I’m thinking “at 11 at night? What the hell?” Then another voice shouts “trick or treat!” At this point I’m in tears, confused and terrified. The chill begins to crawl up my back again. So I turn on my porch light and look through my peephole. Pure.fucking.darkness. it’s trying to lure me out. My doorbell rings again. And again, and again. It got progressively lower and lower pitched. A sickening harmony of thunder, trick or treaters, and girl scouts formed outside my door. I don’t know what happened next, but I think I passed out from shock of what was happening.
I like to night walk, but whatever the fuck was out there that night, has kept me indoors since.