5:00 am. Time to go. Clouds loom overhead, the only excitement in a day as uneventful as any. The same sights, and the same cars, the same people. Do they feel this way too? Do they feel the depressing sameness that wears on me? I don’t know, I don’t talk to people much.
A light drizzle falls from the sky as I turn into my driveway. The wind is subtle and quiet. I’m greeted with the familiar, dull monotony of home. A quick shower washes the filth of boredom from my skin, replacing it with a film of sweat from the hot steam.
I get off work at the same time everyday. I’ll go to bed at the same time tonight, so I can wake up at the same time tomorrow. I eat the same small rotation of foods for breakfast, lunch, and dinner. I flick on the same TV shows with the old remote, scrolling through a list of uninteresting programs and shows I’ve seen before.
As mundane as life in The Valley could be, everyone tensed up when it rained. A mixture of local legend and conspiracy theories will do that. People tend to go missing in their homes. That’s not particularly interesting on its own, but the homes would always end up on the market suspiciously fast as. Unmarked vans would arrive, men with odd cleaning supplies go inside, and then they leave. Police refuse to comment on any disappearances. This gave birth to a bevy of myths and legends. Alien abductions, some kind of government eugenics program, human trafficking, etc.
While I don’t believe the outlandish theories, I can admit I get nervous when a storm passes through. People don’t disappear every time, but just often enough that people notice. When it rains it pours, I guess.
The evening sky, hidden above the overcast cloud, makes it feel like the night has fallen early. Giving into my anxiety, I check the news. A large map on screen under siege by a variety of colors, moving in a systematic path.
“It’s gonna be a rough one tonight folks. Expect heavy winds and low visibility. We expect flash floods throughout the night. Stay inside and stay safe everyone!” the weatherman says.
I guess it’s better to be prepared, I think to myself. I open the basement door and flick the switch, going downstairs to find a lamp and some kerosene. I toss a lighter into my pocket, gather up some matches and candles and make my way back upstairs. Nothing crazy, but I’d rather not stub my toe in the dark. A low groan from my abdomen lets me know I should probably get dinner made while the lights are still on. Every day it’s either frozen pizza, some type of pasta, or a poorly rolled burrito, if not take-out. I decide to throw a pizza in the oven and sit down to watch something.
I scroll through every streaming service but nothing catches my eye. The pizza is finished, at least. I run upstairs to my bedroom and open a window just a crack, just enough to let the smell in but keep the water out. I’ve always loved the smell of rain, and by this point, the lovely little tap-tap-tap was starting to make its rounds. A cool bedroom with the smell of rain would help me sleep like a baby tonight.
After eating my dinner and doing the dishes, the lights finally began to flicker. I light the lamp and a few candles and decide to do some reading on the couch, the pitter-patter of rain on the windows a relaxing backing track to the evening.
A bright flash fills the house with light, the power finally giving out as the wind picks up, the rain a sharp blade against the roof, stabbing relentlessly as it pelts down. Thunder bellowed soon after. For a breath, the storm calms. Things were about to get a lot worse, I think, I’d better go close the upstairs window.
In the calm before the storm, the tap tap tap comes back. Relaxing wind and the rain a gentle weeping from the sky. I’m about to make my way upstairs when I hear the tap tap tap again, this time more…deliberate. Less the sound of rain hitting the walls and more like someone knocking on the door. It came from the kitchen window. I grab the lamp and make my way to the window, peering outside. Nothing but the gray and green and black of night in the wooded suburb. Then I hear it again, this time at the front window, an urgent TAP TAP TAP, my heart leaping from my chest. It sounded like nails hitting glass. Once again, though, nothing is there. Was hail part of the forecast?
BANG. BANG. BANG. A loud knocking comes from overhead, like something is on the roof now. I clutch the lamp and now the anxiety is back. The storm began to pick up again, the sky screaming as the maelstrom rages. The blinding flashes of light, the deafening crack of thunder, and the loud howling of the wind devours the night around me.
Despite everything, I hear a distinct drip drip drip coming from upstairs. Remembering the window, I ran to my bedroom to close the window, noticing a trail of dark, thick liquid flowing at the base of the window. Great, I thought. I studied the window for a moment, noticing the large gap, a gaping maw allowing rain to infiltrate the house. I’d left it cracked, just enough for a breeze and the scent to come in. Had I left it open like this? Ignoring my anxiety, I close the window. The room is shrouded in black, like the light from outside had completely disappeared. The squelch of water below my feet snaps me out of my bewilderment and I run to grab a mop, noticing the trail of water becoming sporadic at points, but it had a distinct spacing, like footsteps.
I forget the mop and follow the footsteps, leading into a spare room, the door ajar. The door squeals as it opens, the creaking adding an unnecessary tension as the room was pitch black already. Inside the room smells something foul, like mold and rot. I raise the lamp into the room and see a shadow in the corner, tall and twisting. Then a bright flash of lighting paints the walls with light and I can see it fully.
It’s tall, thin, and twisted; almost swirling. Long sharp teeth fill out a horrific smile, twisting downwards on one side, upwards on another. Spindly fingers ending in long, chipped nails. Uneven limbs marked by compounding joints, bones breaking through its green flesh, a slow oozing fluid slipping between the cracks. It stared at me with eyes that were nothing close to level. Looking at it made my brain hurt, a splitting headache as my mind tried to comprehend how its joints could possibly function, how it could exist when the air around it seemed to bend. An electricity in the air, coming with that stench of mold and death. Filling up my nostrils and my mouth; coating my taste buds with a horrific sensation, numbing and foul. I breath in the air around me unwillingly, as death itself coated my throat and lungs, dense and heavy, like I am standing on the bottom of the sea.
I try to scream, to will any sound to escape from me, to remind me that I exist. I feel a pull into the swirling vortex of a creature. No sound can escape. A shriek fills the air; however it doesn’t come from me. The creature’s mouth stretched in seemingly infinite directions, as a scream escaped it, reflecting off of every wall, the floor, and the ceiling. It feels as if the sound itself has weight, echoing, then the echoes echoing further, screams pinging off of one another in an infinite loop.
I lower my lantern, preparing myself to throw the fire at it, but a tendril protrudes from the creature’s arm, hitting me in the chest as I fall back into the hallway, the wind knocked out of me and reality swimming back into focus. The lamp escaped my grip and shattered against the ground, the globe shattered around the flame as it was snuffed out by the water on the floor.
I struggle to my feet, an ache in my right ankle; limping down the stairs trying to keep my balance as gravity pulls me down. The creature lets out another shriek, as I hear loud footsteps coming from all around me. Blinded by both fear and the darkness of the house, no light filtering in from outside—I ran to the bathroom, unwilling to fumble with the chain and deadbolt of the front door in the blackness with an impossible monster on the hunt. I barricade the bathroom door with a small table and lock the door, my eyes searching for the window.
The window is nowhere to be seen.
Pure suffocating darkness surrounds me as I try to catch my breath. I must have fallen asleep on the couch, this is a nightmare I think, trying to convince myself. No calm was washing over me, though. The panic maintains its hold on my heart and lungs.
I pull the lighter from my pocket, a small radius of light finally helping to calm my nerves, coating the walls in a dark flickering yellow; the shadows dancing. Finally spotting the window, I try to open it, but it won’t budge, I couldn’t even feel it. It was as if the window wasn’t there, a decoration placed behind a toilet, mocking me with the hope of safety. I can’t hear the rain, or the wind anymore. Just the silence, interrupted only by the occasional drip of fluids from the creature’s shredded flesh, and my own heart, pounding in my ears,
Across the house I hear another shriek, bouncing off the walls, followed by the loud CRACK of splintering wood, from what I assume is my laundry room door. Another shriek, this time followed by the bellowing of metal slamming into metal, as the creature ripped the washing machine from the walls, throwing it into the dryer, mimicking the sound of war drums.
Silence once again. I hold my breath, trying to stay silent myself.
drip…drip…drip
It’s on the move again
Drip…Drip…Drip
It’s getting closer
DRIP DRIP DRIP
tap…tap…tap
It’s gently racking its nails on the bathroom door, the air becoming heavy once again. I can hear a low snarl on the other side of the door. I turn off the lighter and hide in the linen closet. Holding my breath and begging my heart to stop beating so loudly.
BOOM
The door flies off the hinges, straight into the wall, the table exploding on the toilet. A large rectangular shape, twisting one way at the bottom and another at the top, is imprinted on the back wall where the window used to be.
The creature steps into the room. Treading slowly, snarling with a low groan. I can hear something else coming from the creature as well. Something fearful and shrill. Like a group of people screaming in terror, though quiet, and I can’t be sure where it was coming from. It seemed to just…exist, filling up the quiet room in the background. More fluid drips from the creature, hitting the ground with a squelching splat every time.
I try to sneak out as the creature searches the back of the room, never more thankful to have such a large bathroom. The door betrays me, however, emitting a long squeal as metal rubs against metal.
The creature turns around, a sick grin washing over its face. I fling the door open and run into the living room, slipping on the fluid and falling again. The creature may as well have been 100 ft. tall from where I lay on the ground, I can feel it pulling me into itself, the air circling around me. Struggling to my feet I pull out the lighter once again, it’s all I have to defend myself with. I plant my feet and hold the lighter at arms length in front of me, hoping the flame will be enough to scare it away.
Another tendril flies from the creature’s arm, a joint breaking with a loud crack, and an explosion of the dark fluid. It strikes me in the ribs, almost certainly breaking one. I drop the lighter, moving my hands to protect my broken bone, my eyes closing as I bend inward and let out a long groan, still refusing to lose my footing.
Another shriek fills the air, piercing my ears, as a chorus of screams follow. In an instant the room became hot. The darkness gone, there were flames everywhere, the creature’s footsteps—the trails of muk and water were alight, all stemming from the lighter, which landed in the pool below the creature’s tendril, which had also caught. Sticky strands of thick ooze had fallen from the new limb, landing in the pool of fluids.
The creature’s screams continued as it stepped back. Using its good arm it grabbed the long tentacle and broke it downward, as another loud CRACK filled the room, followed by a long riiip as it tore the appendage away. It then grabbed the other it came from, and broke the bones, with yet another sickening crack, removing the remaining section of limb, leaving a new stub of bone to match the rest.
As the creature tore itself apart, my boring, and dull home burned around me, a blazing inferno. A culmination of years of monotonous and boring work, lost in an instant as an impossible creature, something otherworldly pierced my ears with more deafening cries, while wails of the damned carried on.
In the light of the fire I found the door, unlatched the chain, twisted the deadbolt and prayed the door would open. It did. The creature stalled behind me, stalking the room; trying to find a way around the wall of flame that separated us.
I grabbed my keys, resting on a nail next to the door and ran, got into the car and felt it rumble to life. This car carried me through countless days of the mundane life I now missed dearly, but it was my escape from the alien hell I’d found myself in.
As I backed out, I could see the creature, slithering out of the upstairs bedroom window, winding its way to the roof. It stared at me, its mouth open, surely screaming at me again.
I raced down the empty road, no neighbors anywhere near, just the quiet edge of a lonely suburb, the final layer of a city in the valley. The shrieks grew quieter the further away I sped, the storm raging on.
I’m currently in a hotel. I placed as much distance between myself and the creature as I could before calling 911. Hoping the rain would hinder the fire before it had a chance to spread. I received a call from an unknown number shortly after. Exhausted, I ignored it. Ready for sleep, and the nightmares that would be waiting for me.
As I closed my eyes, I heard two things.
My phone vibrating again, the light filling up the room with a single message from an unknown number: You’re in danger.
And you distant sound of a steady drip drip drip.