All I needed was a baguette to round out dinner. Spaghetti and meatballs. I felt fancy because I’d gone all out, each component made from scratch, and realized the perfect complement to my efforts would be some crisp and cheesy garlic bread, fresh from the oven.
The sauce simmered, filling the kitchen with a fragrant basil perfume which danced with the early springtime wind wafting in through the open window, curtains gently billowing with each gust. The sun had just begun to set, and the store was a short drive away. I realized I could make it before dark and made swift work of removing dinner from the heat of the stove, ensuring all burners were snuffed, and yelling a hasty “be right back!” to my partner who was upstairs wrapping up a lengthy workday. I wasn’t sure he’d heard me, but the trip was supposed to be so quick that I’d likely be back before he’d even noticed I’d gone.
I made my way out the front door toward my car parked in our drive, the pink sky kissing the still bare tree limbs. As the sun got lower the temperature got colder, and I suddenly regretted the thin sweater I had on. On my way to my car I checked my purse for my keys no less than five times, convinced they managed to grow legs and jump out on their own over the thirty foot distance I had to cover. Finally, just before reaching the car I pulled them out all together, unlocking the doors and turning the heat up to eighty the moment the engine kicked on.
Rapidly getting nice and toasty I had to fight off thoughts of getting ice cream while at the store since we had three unfinished pints in the freezer and if I brought home another, I’d never hear the end of it. I pulled into the parking lot, still trying to talk myself out of the purchase, and I should’ve just listened and avoided the frozen section, not just because of the tempting sugar-laden dairy products, but because of who I ran into in that aisle.
I turned the corner into the aisle and at the end was an initially unassuming man, so tall he practically loomed over the freezers themselves. He stood, unmoving, carefully reading the label on the back of a box of frozen shrimp. I kept my head down and shuffled past him, hoping to go unnoticed, having had too many negative interactions in the wild and getting the feeling that I was attempting to avoid one more.
I’d almost made it past him when I noticed just his eyes subtly peep in my direction. “That lady is staring at you,” he said, apparently deciding against the shrimp and putting them back before being out of sight in two gigantic steps. The interaction was so quick that the hairs on the back of my neck hadn’t even finished standing up before he was gone.
I glanced around me, searching for the lady in question, but there was no one. I shrugged it off; there was no apparent threat in the vicinity and the one oddball had walked off. I chalked it up to just a weird exchange and quickly shuffled from the aisle, abandoning my ice cream aspirations and heading to the bakery to grab the intended baguette.
While deciding between loaves I felt hot, humid breath hit my ear before the words caught up. “You don’t see her?” the gravelly voice asked in a hushed tone. I turned, but there was no one there. However, there was the man, easily twenty feet away already, back turned, head down, rushing to the checkout. I hastily grabbed the bread and followed him as swiftly as I could without breaking into a full on run.
He turned into lane three and I followed. He handed me a divider but was otherwise determined to ignore my presence.
“Who were you saying is following me? Is she here?” I asked, leaning in and invading his space a bit.
He turned himself away from me, and all I could do was stare at his elbows. I may as well have been a ghost, completely invisible, unhearable. The cashier accepted his money and returned his change before he muttered, so low I barely missed it, “you’ll want to hurry home.” With that he grabbed his groceries and ducked through the double doors, out to the lot.
The cashier shot me a weird glance, and I could feel my face drain of all color. I had no evidence that this man was telling the truth, let alone sane, and yet for some reason I believed him. I felt as though he was genuinely trying to warn me.
It was the moment I walked out the doors and into the lot where I began to feel eyes on me from all directions. The sky had turned black, and the stars were blocked out by the heavy lighting in the lot. A cold breeze slapped me directly across the face and pinched my nose until I thought it would freeze off entirely. It was unseasonably cold for the early spring, especially considering the mild day that had preceded the nightfall. I folded my arms across my chest, shivering and speed walking toward my car. I hoped it would still be warm from my drive to the store.
The feeling of being watched wouldn’t relent, but otherwise the walk to my car was uneventful. It didn’t feel so, though. It felt as though I’d been marked. Someone was lying in wait until my guard was sufficiently down and they could strike. I just knew it. I carefully scanned every single visible face in the lot, but all I saw were people going about their respective nights. They didn’t even seem to be bothered by the cold. Completely unnerved, I started the car, missing the ignition no less than three times due to shaking hands before finally managing to connect and engage the engine.
As I drove the darkness engulfed me. It was as if I was in a blizzard, but in this case the snow was replaced with unrelenting blackness. I couldn’t see any further than my headlights. I couldn’t even see my own hands. In my haste I’d left the radio off, but about halfway into the drive it clicked on, a sudden blast of music filling the car at a volume I knew I had never set. I swerved as I jerked my hands off the wheel, flailing toward the knob in a desperate attempt to quiet the noise, but no matter how much I turned the knob back and forth nothing happened. I stopped on the side of the road, hazards flashing before turning off the car completely in a desperate bid for silence, but even so the radio didn’t cut out. The deafening song continued to assault my ears when I detected in my rearview mirror a sudden movement.
My head whipped around, and yet again all my eyes met was complete and utter blackness. Somehow, I heard someone, or something, that I couldn’t see pull the handle, opening the door and letting in the sharp, icy air. I managed to hear muted footsteps crunch on the sand and rocks that lined the edge of the road, approaching my door.
My hand instinctively shot to the lock, hoping to engage it before whoever was on the other side could try the handle, but I failed. The door shot open so quickly and so hard that I’m not sure the lock would’ve kept the intruder out anyway.
Still blind, I held my breath, waiting for any new sound, unable to discern anything except the music which was so deafening I could only feel my pulse throb in my ears. A hand broke through the darkness, reaching for my throat, and simultaneously the music cut out completely.
The hand never quite reached me. No other part of the person became visible. All that came from the darkness was a quiet word, repeated over and over and over. “Help.” A woman’s voice, now desperate rather than terrifying. A single finger extended pointing toward the woods on the shoulder, before the voice croaked “I’m over there.”
It happened in an instant. The blackness faded; the stars came out. I could see the road and the woods. The hand was gone. My attention was gotten, and I believe that was the person’s only goal. I stayed where I was and phoned the police, not quite sure what to tell them, but I suppose I sounded spooked enough for them to come. I told them I thought I saw a figure in the woods, and a quick sweep revealed a body, feet from the tree line, barely covered in a hole so shallow it couldn’t be called a grave. A woman, missing for months from a town four hours away, and finally uncovered.
I have my suspicions about the man at the grocery store. He could see the woman following me, and wanted to ensure I couldn’t see her. I couldn’t figure out what to tell the police without appearing insane. The one thing I’m certain about is that he had something to do with her demise.
I had hoped finding her had allowed her to finally rest, but in the middle of the day yesterday the all-consuming blackness surged back, despite warm daylight streaming through my front window moments before, and it will not relent. She still needs my help. I just need to figure out how to give it.
There’s just one problem; I’ve been noticing a tall figure standing just at the edge of the shadows thrown by trees that line my property. Every night. Just watching.