I was 18 years old, living in a remote village nestled at the base of a looming mountain. I hadn’t even smoked a cigarette, or had a drink back then, I was definitely Ill-prepared for the darkness that lurked beyond the safety of our tight-knit community. Our village, veiled in an air of mystique, with a secretive religion of it’s own called Druze, seemed shielded from the outside world by the towering peaks that surrounded us, and protection rituals that the Sages would do.
Little did I know, that sense of isolation would soon become a breeding ground for the inexplicable horrors that awaited me. It was midnight, and the silence of the night enveloped us as my friend drove his 2008 Mazda 3, a shitbox you wouldn’t want to be in when shit goes down. Navigating the winding roads that went through the fields of cherry and apple trees. Everything was going well, just another drive around the fields, and we were in the middle of our usual chats. Suddenly, something shot across the road with alarming speed, a blur of movement that left us both frozen in disbelief.I turned to my friend, seeking confirmation in his wide-eyed expression. Without a word, he nodded, his grip on the wheel tightening. As he focused on the road ahead, I dared to glance to our right, where the trees cast long, twisted shadows in the moonlight.That’s when I saw it—a figure unlike anything I had ever encountered. Tall and Lanky, it moved with an unnatural grace, weaving between the trees as though they were mere playthings. Its skin, a sickly shade of white, stretched out over skeletal limbs, and its face was a grotesque mask of emptiness, save for a twisted smirk that sent a shiver down my spine.In a haze of fear and disbelief, I found myself behind the wheel, driving faster than I ever thought possible, desperate to escape the nightmare unfolding before me.But even as we raced towards the safety of the village, the creature seemed to taunt us, darting effortlessly between the trees on our right, a chilling reminder that its unnatural speed could easily catch up to us, even when we were going 100 KM/H, through twists and turns, It somehow managed to keep up. The horrors of that night stay with me even now, etched into the very fabric of my being.
Days turned into weeks, and weeks into months, but the memory of that encounter refused to fade. It haunted me, lurking in the shadows of my mind, waiting for the opportunity to strike again. And strike it did, one fateful evening as I stood with my friends in what used to be a cherry field,now turned park, Having a fun night out with the boys.As I finished eating, I asked where I could wash my hands, and they pointed me towards a portable sink placed between the rows of trees. I felt a bit of serenity as my friends’ chatter faded, and my mind calmed down.offered a brief respite from the weight of my thoughts, but as I glanced out into the darkness, my heart skipped a beat. There it was again—the White Nightcrawler, its form barely discernible as it lurked behind the trunk of a nearby tree.I pretended not to see it at all, played dumb and walked back to my friends as if nothing had happened. What else could I do? I felt that it’s best to just let things settle down naturally, because confronting such a malevolent force seemed futile, and fleeing only played into its hands.
So, I chose to carry on, to live each day with the knowledge that the darkness still lingered, waiting to strike once more. It sends shivers down my spine, I live now because that creature had mercy on me.Years passed, yet the memory of that encounter refused to fade. I found myself drawn to the whispers of the Sages, their tales of otherworldly beings and ancient rituals offering a semblance of understanding in the face of the unknown.
And though I may never fully comprehend the depths of the horrors that lurked beyond our realm, I vowed to remain vigilant, to stand guard against the encroaching darkness that threatened to engulf us all.