I used to love the rain. I could sit outside for hours in a rain jacket in the middle of the woods. Listening, watching, taking in the smell of it. It wouldn’t matter if I was cold, and I almost never got sick. The sound of a light rain on my jacket as it pattered, or the thunderous downpour of heavy rain. Either way it set me in a trance the more I listened. My wife Olivia was always sad on these days, she just never understood how I appreciated such a thing. She would watch me from the window sometimes and there I’d be, sitting and not moving in the middle of a storm. It was peaceful to me, it was very important to me. The rain would help me disassociate from my depressing life. I had no reason to be depressed, I just always seemed to be so. I had everything I could ever want. A house, a decent paying job, a loving wife & a healthy baby boy; but I just could never shake the sadness. But the rain helped me, it helped me forget, even just for a bit.
One day I was watching the weather channel and saw it was calling for heavy rain. I instantly became excited. As the rain approached my wife just sighed as I eagerly put on my rain jacket and boots. She held my son, watching me from the window as I ran outside to go to my favorite rain listening spot, which was only about a 20 minute hike from my house. It was deeper in the woods than my other spots. It was a spot in the woods where trees just didn’t seem to grow and formed an almost perfect circle of grass. There were trees all around sure, but in this particular spot, only grass was present. It was a spot that felt too good to be true. I would sit in the center, listen to the wind lush through the trees as the approaching storm rolled in.
I don’t know if you’ve ever heard rain starting when it first begins to fall. If it rains heavily, you hear it pouring in the distance loud and approaching fast. The water rushing down and closer and closer each passing second until finally it’s upon you. Then it turns into a soundtrack of rushing water for minutes to up to hours. I love the rain storms that last several hours if you couldn’t guess already.
So there I was, sitting cross legged in the middle of heavy rain. Breathing in and exhaling slowly. I could see my breath when I opened my eyes, but I mostly kept them shut to take in all the sounds. It’s almost as if all the wildlife was put on pause. No birds chirping, no squirrels rustling in the sticks, nothing. I was in a trance for what felt like forever, but in reality was probably only 15 minutes.
That’s when I heard it. It was quiet and distant. A howling like I’ve never heard before from any other animal deep in the woods. It was starting to get dark, but it was still raining and I knew my way back fairly well so I decided to stay and continue to listen. 5 minutes later I heard the howl again, this time much closer. Whatever it was, it was moving fast. Although it didn’t sound like wolves or a coyote I still chose to ignore it. Another 5 minutes passed. It howled again. This time it was very loud. A chill went up my spine and my eyes shot wide open. Before I could comprehend what was happening I realized it was getting dark, real dark. The howling became more frequent now. I could sense something was approaching and for some reason I felt it knew exactly where I was.
A flash silhouette ran across a few trees in my peripheral vision. I whipped my head the right and squinted my eyes, thinking that would make a difference as I started into the cold, wet dark woods. It looked to be a large, hairy beast running upright from what I could tell. That’s all I saw, that’s all I heard from there on out. I decided it was time to head home, whether it was still raining or not. I wanted to see my family.
As I hurried on the trail back home I heard it again. Distant howling, but just once, this time it seemed to be in front of me. Towards my home. I started to sprint home, going mad with the thought that my family may be in danger. I must’ve made the 20 minute hike in 5 minutes. I was running so fast.
I finally make it home and see the door wide open. “Honey?” I yell in pure panic. No response. “Olivia!?, Where are you two?” I followed a trail of wet, soaking foot prints to the bedroom. There I collapse to my knees in pure distraught as I look upon my mangled wife, staring back at me barely alive. “Where’s Nick, where’s our son?” I managed to spit up. She replied, “It.. It came with the rain”. Those were my wife’s last words before she passed. Now every time it rains, I go looking into the woods for that thing. I listen for the howling, I search for my son.