(LINK TO PART 1 IN COMMENTS)
“Be careful what you wish for…”
That…thing…had entered my home and forced those words shivering into my brain on a wave of putrid breath. It tittered maniacally, and my skin practically crawled off my body as I felt its moist, hot tongue caress my cheek. I whimpered, and prayed to a God I never believed in as I prepared myself for the worst. I waited for its teeth to sink into my neck, for its jagged, ragged, fingernails to rake the eyes from my skull. I waited.
And waited…and waited…
I sat waiting until the nascent vestiges of dawn broke across my tightly-closed eyelids. They fluttered open, and my breath caught as I prepared to once again come face to face with the entity I had named Peekaboo.
And…I was alone; blessedly alone. Even so, I sat there till almost midday, expecting it to spring out from behind the curtain in homage to its namesake with a banshee shriek as it rushed me in a final, horrible prank.
But it didn’t. Nothing happened. I sat, and pushed the limits of how long a person could hold their water before wetting themselves. I eventually decided to brave the bathroom, and…nothing happened. The release of relieving myself was nothing compared to the relief I felt from realising I might finally be rid of my demonic voyeur.
I pondered on how I had just….given in; I was at my wit’s end, and desperate, and just wanted to cease the endless invasion of my privacy. I thought the only way to end this nightmare was to just give in and give it what it wanted. I began to assume it only manifested itself to impart a lesson I should never forget, like a twisted version of the Ghosts of Christmas’ Past.
But, you know what they say about making assumptions, right?
Weak-kneed and stumbling, I eventually made my way to the kitchen to begin embracing what was once my safe, predictable morning routine: semi-sweet coffee and a slice of rye. I almost smiled as I leaned against the counter and followed the motions of familiarity. Lost in thought, eyes unseeing, I reached into the cupboard to grab the canister of earthy brown ground goodness.
Instead, my hand came down on something wet, and hot, and I recoiled with a shriek, remembering the feeling of Peekaboo’s tongue sliding across my jawline. I threw the cupboard doors wide and saw… my coffee. Hawaiian medium roast, sitting as I expected.
I’m fucking losing it; the irony wasn’t lost on me that that’s what I had thought when Peekaboo first began appearing. I desperately clung to the possibility that I was going mad, as that was more preferable to the alternative.
I mechanically prepared my morning repast, all pleasure lost.
***
I didn’t feel as if I could handle returning to work; I told them that I wasn’t in any fit state to return, but I was seeking assistance to ensure I get back on my feet. My boss understood. I have the best boss.
I spent the rest of the day trying to pull the pieces of my routine together; my morning go-to was spoiled by a fear-fueled delusion. I was hell-bent on getting my life back.
I tidied up the collective refuse I let stagnate during my moments of turmoil. I made myself dinner, a lovely roast chicken with garlic and lemon. I showered, and felt every drop cascade down my skin while the tension left my body; I had my life back. I had accepted the consequences of my entitled antics, and FINALLY felt close to my old self. I held my face up to the stream, eyes closed. I relished the tranquillity and reached to turn the tap and DUG THROUGH A MASS OF TANGLED GREASY HAIR!
I started back and lost my footing! I snatched at the towel bar and ripped half of it off the wall, BARELY saving myself from, at the LEAST, a broken coccyx. I didn’t see anything. Nothing made its nefarious appearance.
Once is happenstance, twice is coincidence…
I was shaken. I insisted on the possibility of some type of PTSD manifestation. I still tried to cling to the idea of freedom and stability. I was free, dammit! I was rid of that sadistic stalker!
I dried; I dressed; I brushed my teeth; for the first time in an eternity, I collapsed in my bed without fear. I was physically, emotionally, and spiritually exhausted. I felt as if I could hibernate till winter, shower again, then hibernate till spring.
I sighed with pleasure as I settled in. The incident in the shower had unsettled me, true, but at that moment I just didn’t care. For the first time in what I felt was forever, I didn’t have some perverted demon-creature staring at me as I tried to sleep.
I snuggled in, sighing. I was asleep before I finished exhaling.
***
I started awake, checking the alarm clock. 3:03AM.
I felt uncomfortable. I had awoken with such urgency. Why did I do that? I felt that something was wrong. I tried to shrug it off by pattering to the washroom to answer the call of nature. I sat half-asleep in the pale green LED glow of my wall-light. It is NOT a night light. I could barely keep my eyes open. Finishing up, I zombily returned to bed. Settling in, I tossed and turned. I flipped onto my opposite side, smacking my lips. I felt a rustling so soft it barely registered, but it was enough to open my eyes.
And there it was
So close to my face our noses were almost touching, Peekaboo’s wild, bloodshot eyes were staring into mine with such nihilistic glee. It was breathing heavily, its breath foul and damp; long, greasy, black hair splayed around its head and face; its tongue fanatically licking its lips in a wet, sloppy, fanaticism, yellow mucus covering and dripping and pooling on my pillow. It giggled, so softly, “tee!…hee!…hee!…”
It reached up, caressed my face, its skin rough and dry like a snake’s, and leaned in as if for a kiss. I snapped! I shrieked! I smacked the hand as if it were venomous, frantically scrambling and kicking and scrabbling away but it couldn’t! I was cocooned in my blankets, they held fast like a vice, following the will of this creature’s twisted desire. It pressed both hands to my cheeks, leaned in close.
“Oh, you are… just…so…beau-uuutiful…..” it croaked and crooned into my ear. “We are going to have…so…much…fun!…”
My heart was hammering so hard I felt it in my toes. I was hyperventilating. It wanted me. It wanted to invade more than my privacy. Its eyes wide as saucers, unblinking, tiny pupils quivering with anticipation, it moaned in my ear and I shrieked in response and squeezed my eyes so tight it felt they fused shut.
“LEAVE ME THE FUCK ALO-OOONE!!” I screeched, clenching my whole body.
And it was gone. Like a puff of smoke.
I would have believed it a night terror if not for the pool of yellow mucus on my pillow, and the tiny, intentionally slow, titter I heard come from the vent above my bed.
***
I’m guessing Peekaboo followed the same rules as a vampire. It never, ever got so intimate in invading my space before until I let it into my home. I thought the worst thing it could do to me was watching, observing, voyeuring. But I was so, so wrong. That was just the beginning.
I’ve resigned myself to my fate, even though I have no clue as to why this is happening to me. I realise now that I am just its plaything, its toy, its pet.
I’m writing this as a sort of farewell, for even now, as I type this, I can feel its breath in my ear as it presses itself against me, moaning in rapture.