This story isn’t mine to tell, it was told to me by my best friend. Derek probably wouldn’t even want me to tell this story, but I feel that it needs to be told. I got a call from Derek late one night from the hospital. “I have something I have to tell you.” He sounded desperate, frantic even.
“What’s going on man is everything ok?” I asked. His breathing quickened and he started to sob. “Bro, what hospital are you at? I’ll be there as quickly as possible.” I’ve never heard him so broken. I drove as fast as I could to get there, wondering the whole time what could have landed him in the hospital.
Derek hit an all-time low point in his life a while before this. That’s an understatement, his life was shattered by the death of his wife about six months prior. This is the kind of trauma that manifests itself in the form of self-destructive tendencies. Being plowed into by a drunk driver shortly after getting married can do that to a man. He lived, she didn’t. Needless to say, it drove him into a level of despair that can’t be described in words.
I should clarify this is not a dream post, rather it is an experience that my best friend had during the worst point of his life, and consequently his death, at least until he was resuscitated. And the things that he experienced, in some sense can be corroborated. It’s all a matter of opinion i guess.
When I arrived at his room he was staring off into space with a blank, distant expression. As he turned to me I realized just how bad he looked. His eyes were bloodshot with bags under them, and his skin was very pale. After a few moments his numb, emotionless demeanor changed into frantic sobs, his expression morphing into one of an utterly broken man. I hadn’t seen him in this sort of state since his wife’s funeral. Without saying a word I wrapped him in a hug and tried to console him. He eventually calmed down enough for me to sit and talk. “What happened man?” I asked, as delicately as possible.
He looked at me once again, a pained expression on his face. He was able to dry his eyes and gather himself, as he took a deep, shaky breath and let it out slowly. When he spoke his voice sounded shaky. This is the story he told me.
I guess you could say it all started when she died. I kind of lost motivation to continue the same routine I was used to. I started missing work, shut out my family, and started drinking heavily. After a month or so of the same routine, I subsequently lost my job.
I awoke in a bit of a stupor, the kind that makes you forget where you are momentarily. I gathered my thoughts and surveyed my surroundings. The room was cold, not uncommon for a seedy motel such as this one. But what may have woken me was the tv. I thought it was off when I went to sleep but couldn’t be sure. The tv was nothing but static, resembling hundreds of black crows dancing across the screen, accompanied by white noise.
I fumbled for the remote, and once I found it I turned off the tv. The screen went black. I stood perplexed for a moment, wondering just how the TV was turned on. I left the remote on the bedside table. Admittedly, it was a little creepy. I chuckled to myself as I thought of movie scenes in which the tv was turned on by some supernatural force.
Shaking my head, I stood and reached for the chain to turn the light on. The dull yellow bulb hanging from the ceiling did little to calm my angst, casting a glow that reminded me of an old sepia-type movie. The light gave the room uneasy atmosphere. I walked my way over the cold floor to the bathroom. I had a very strange feeling, like the room around me felt lifeless.
I flipped the switch on the wall, immediately I saw that the bathroom took on the same eerie tone, perhaps even more so. My reflection stared back at me, making me realize just how exhausted I looked. I took a moment to splash water on my face to clear my thoughts. Suddenly I thought I’d heard something. Turning the faucet off I stood stock still. I could’ve sworn I’d heard the shuffling of feet. The bathroom light suddenly turned off.
I was becoming Ill with fear. The light from under the door began to flicker with a strange buzzing sound. I cautiously peeked around the door, like a child whose imagination is concocting Images of creatures that wait in darkness to devour an unsuspecting victim.
I had barely peeked around the door when suddenly the light turned off, and now both lights were out, plunging the room into darkness. I was spooked to say the least, because just before the light went out I thought I saw a figure in the corner of the room. I was frozen for a moment, dreading whoever or whatever was in the room with me. Creeping slowly toward the light chain, I fumbled for it in the darkness. I pulled on it and to my unease, nothing happened. “Great.” I thought to myself.
My thoughts were interrupted and I jumped with a start when the white noise and grey glow of the TV came blaring on again. The thousands of white and black pixels of white noise danced across the screen once more. Then I thought I’d heard something else. Beneath the white noise was a different sound. I stopped and listened.
The sound was mostly drowned out but it was there. I was entranced with my eyes on the screen. Slowly I inched closer to the screen, holding my breath, and as I did so the sound became clearer. Fading in and out was… some sort of screaming, though I couldn’t isolate any one of them.
It seemed as though there were dozens of them wailing. I stood there, hand outstretched toward the power button, listening as the sound of agonizing screams rose and fell within the white noise. My breathing was quickening, as was my pulse.
Just as I was about to unplug the tv, it turned off on its own. I stood for several seconds after the screen went black, trying to calm my angst. It was quiet, too quiet. It seemed as though the silence was even more unnerving than the noise. Completely freaked out, I slowly inched back toward the light chain. I didn’t take my eyes off the TV even though it was pitch black. I was shaking but doing my best to convince myself it was just a faulty tv.
“Piece of shit.” I said aloud, the sounds of screaming were most likely a horror movie on a channel with a bad signal. I reached for the chain still shaking slightly, praying it would work this time. To my relief, the light came to life, and as I surveyed the room I let out a long breath. I’d decided to sleep with it on. Just as I turned towards the bed, I was met with the breath of something inches from my face. “Don’t worry, that happens all the time.”
Just then the tv came blaring with those awful screams. I can only describe the man in front of me as being a shell of a human, an unbelievably ancient-looking man whose grey hair was long and stringy.
His complexion was sickly pale, almost matching his gray hair. the face was sunken and emotionless. It was a brief first encounter but I’ll remember that face for eternity. At that moment I felt like I was staring death in the face.
I stood paralyzed as I looked into the black pit where his eyes should be. Suddenly I was aware of another sound, only this one wasn’t from inside the room. The heavy footsteps of something large could be heard somewhere beyond the door, accompanied by an inhuman wail. Just as soon as I was aware of it, I bolted upright in bed, almost falling off of it… I was at home…
My heart racing as well as my breathing. My jaw hurt as if I’d been grinding my teeth. It was clearly a nightmare, but you see, the dream of the “void” was a reoccurring one that id had once or twice a week, however, the one about the motel room was one that I had never experienced before that point. This time these two meshed together into one nightmare
The feeling, though, even now that I was awake in my own home, seemed to linger. I was no stranger to bad dreams, but as far as I can remember, before she died I had never had nightmares such as these.
I swallowed hard realizing my mouth was dry and went downstairs for a glass of water, still quite a bit shook from the strange nightmare. I racked my brain for any memory that involved the motel In the dream. It felt familiar in a way couldn’t grasp. I chalked it up to stress and headed back upstairs for bed, I was exhausted and drained.
I lay awake thinking about the nightmare, I couldn’t stop thinking about the eyes of the man, or the lack thereof. I could only hope that I wouldn’t fall back into the nightmare when I fell asleep again.
Other thoughts crept into my mind as they always do, an everpresent grief that existed behind every door. Eventually, my mind drifted toward abstract thoughts as sleep took over. All was quiet. Suddenly the sound of something invaded my eardrums, and for the second time, I found myself back in the motel room.
I was immediately aware of the fact that I could only move my eyes as I looked toward the direction of the sound, whatever it was seemed to be coming up the stairs. I could hear several thumps reverberating from the metal stairs cutting through the silence, only the sound was different than the stomping id heard before. I listened, paralyzed and terrified as I heard the sound growing in volume as it made its way up the stairs, sounding as if it were crawling, accompanied by what could only be described as the cracking and popping of bones.
As it got closer I could hear the sound of deep gurgling and wheezing, like that of a sickly and choking creature. It stopped just a few feet before the window as I still couldn’t see any shadow beyond the curtain, and the light outside my door started to flicker. I heard the sound of a door handle turning, I lay paralyzed in complete darkness and horror as I waited for the door to open, but as I heard a door creak open I realized that it was coming from the direction of the neighboring room. I struggled to move my paralyzed body to no avail. My eyes stared towards the window. The light in the breezeway still flickered.
My ears were met by the muffled sound of moaning and confused shouts from the voice of a man through the wall behind me. The shouts evolved into terrified shrieks. I could still hear the thing breathing, only seeming to get more excited. My heart pounded in my chest, I could do nothing but listen as the terrified cries suddenly turned to muffled screaming, and then a gurgled choking sound accompanied by cracking and wet crunching.
All sound went quiet aside from the heavy breathing of the thing, and once again I lay in silence still struggling to move, or better yet snap myself out of the nightmare as it seemed to be. Once again I heard the footsteps of the thing as it seemed to leave the room. “Please don’t come this way.” I thought, shutting my eyes. “Please don’t let the same happen to me.”
My eyes were shut tight for what seemed like an eternity, repeating in my head the same thing over and over until I realized that everything was silent. Opening my eyes I looked first toward the window, still unable to move my body, the light was no longer flickering beyond the curtain.
I looked to the edge of the bed, and to my horror, there stood the old man, illuminated only by the light from the breezeway, his eyeless sockets even darker. “Don’t worry, that happens all the time.” He was facing towards the window. That’s when I heard a tapping, slowly fixating my gaze in the same direction I saw a silhouette that was unlike anything I’d seen, humanoid in shape, yet it was anything but human, it looked as though it was standing, only with its back hunched over. It was standing at an angle where I could see an unnaturally long neck with it’s head seemingly facing toward me.
Without warning something smashed against the window with a crunch, leaving a dark splatter on the other side. I would have screamed if only I had the ability. With another sickening splat, I was able to make out the form of what was being slammed into the window. “Oh, God.” The shape of a human head was being held by the hair, getting repeatedly slammed into the window, “Make this stop.”
Almost as if the thing reacted to my thoughts, it immediately stopped. In a raspy, distorted voice, the thing spoke “you couldn’t imagine the things he will do to you.” Dropping the mangled head of its victim, it moved away from the window, and towards the door to my room. I could only lay in wait as the creature lurked outside the door.
I was awake almost immediately in a cold sweat. It took me a moment to realize that the sound of thunder is what woke me up. I reached over to turn on the bedside lamp, to realize that it wouldn’t turn on. “Of course” I’d said aloud. The storm had knocked out the power. Without the sound of the fan blowing the house was silent, all that could be heard was the heavy patter of rain on the roof, and random bursts of thunder. I looked at my phone to find that it was 3 a.m.
I felt very on edge from the nightmare, remembering what the voice had said, “don’t worry that happens all the time.” And the words the thing at the window said. What did that mean? My mind reeled. You know the feeling of having something so suddenly startle you in a way that makes your heart lurch, taking too long for it to slowly fade? That’s what I felt as if the panic-inducing sound of something faded in volume all too slowly. Again I was pondering why the room was so familiar
I rubbed my eyes trying to shake the residual sense of unease. Sitting in the darkness wasn’t helping at all, so I decided to go downstairs and to the front porch to see if the other houses had lost power.
Just as I’d expected, all houses were completely without electricity. Not wanting to go back inside I sat on the porch and watched the rain as it poured. What struck me as odd was that all of the houses seemed vacant, no cars in the driveways. And then I looked down the street towards the end of the block. At first I wasn’t sure, but I noticed the vague form of something in the road, though it was too dark to make out.
The sky was a dark grey, covered completely as far as I could see by dense storm clouds. The only illumination was that of the moon behind the thick clouds that scattered the dim light, casting an eerie glow upon them. A strike of lightning illuminated the sky, and through the heavy rain, I caught a glimpse of a figure standing at the end of the block in the middle of the road. I squinted to try and make out any details. But in the immense darkness and rain, I could see nothing. It looked to be the figure of a very tall man, I stood on guard, trying to decide whether or not to call out, not sure if this person would hear me over the heavy rain.
After a few moments of squinting into the dark wall of rain I began to turn back towards the door, but just as I did a flash once again illuminated the figure in the road, only much closer. It seemed like the only way for him to be that much closer was as if he was sprinting down the road toward me. Although I had no idea of what I should expect, I felt a sense of urgency, debating the old decision; fight or flight.
I took a few steps back, my hand finding the door knob, still staring in the direction of the figure. My eyes were trained on the spot I’d last seen the figure, and as another flash lit the sky I saw nothing. And after a few moments of surveying my immediate field of vision, I turned the knob and went inside, locking the door behind me for safe measure.
I wiped the rain from my face with a sigh, though. I stood for several minutes until I willed myself to turn around. I felt exhausted like I hadn’t slept in days. The dreams were depriving me of sleep and plaguing my mind. I sat on the couch and laid my head back, staring through the darkness at the ceiling. I thought of my wife, and the last time I’d seen her face. I didn’t like the darkness, nor the quiet. Not for fear of what may be in the darkness but for being left with my thoughts. As tired as I was, I felt like I had to keep moving, at least until the power came back. Maybe I was afraid of the nightmares to creep their way back in.