Ding–Ding–Ding
That sound…That awful sound. It rang in my ears as I struggled to open my eyes. It was all so blurry–. I was heavily incapacitated; my senses weakened. Where am I? What happened? Thoughts flooded my mind as I tried to grab ahold of something nearby.
Shuffling my feet and outstretching my hands behind my head while laying down on what seemed to be some type of floor, I began to hear what sounded like small rocks hitting each other. Pivoting myself to face the “floor” and getting a glimpse of what it was, the realization hit me. Glass. Tiny, dimly shining shards of it peppered the surrounding area. The (what seemed to be) “room” was small, compact, and rectangular almost. Dark and even a bit damp. The air smelt thickly of sulfur…and blood.
My breathing intensified as fear set in. Attempting to pick myself up, I barely lifted an inch or two off the floor, before my arms buckled beneath me—Throwing me back down onto my face, shards of glass digging into my skin. Making the room creak loudly as it settled.
Breathing picked up, audibly. But it wasn’t mine…. Slowly turning over, my heart sank as I saw what sat at my feet.
A black figure stood, hunched and looming over me at the end of the room. It froze as my eyes fell upon it. I wanted to run, but I could barely move. I wanted to scream, but I couldn’t help but stare in horror as it moved closer. Putting its cold hand over my mouth, it murmured in a low, whispering voice only 4 words: “Don’t. Make. A sound.” As my eyes focused, relief washed over me. The face was unmistakable. Their rounded nose and curved jaw were all too familiar.
But the feeling of relief quickly faded; replaced with one of dread. The distress in his voice was grave.
Suddenly, things started to come back.
Only four days prior everything had been normal. It was nice.
Oregon is best known for its incredible scenery. Something about the way the sun hits the trees when it rises every morning provides a sense of bliss. The way the water glittered and shimmered reflecting the light. Somewhere between Bend and Eugene, there was a peaceful little town in the mountains. Away from modern and noisy civilization. It wasn’t cheap to get there though. Especially with the real estate prices kicking up in recent years. As for the people who could afford it, however—Lived happily. Sweet and kind people. The type that would welcome even the most distant of strangers. I didn’t really fit in, considering all of that. But after meeting someone, I guess all that changed. His name was Santiago. Met him only a few weeks after moving in, inside a local pub. A tall and disheveled man at the time; Looked as if he was having a little TOO much fun. He had stumbled over his untied shoelaces, struggling to grab the bar to brace himself as he did. Walking up to nearby strangers to crack a joke but stumbling over his words as he did so, ruining the punchline each time. It was funny…and…cute.
After everyone had left I decided to stay behind. He didn’t feel he could drive home safely so he requested the bartender to help him. Funny how it wasn’t even the first time he had to do that for him. Was as if the two were friends because it was such a common occurrence. The bartender had other plans though, and in turn, couldn’t drive him home. Me being the only person left, and with nothing better to do, decided to offer some help. I drove him home that night, but before I could leave, he had asked me to stay. I obliged. Soon, one night turned into two- and not long after, it blossomed into something so much more, and that drive had become one of the best decisions I had ever made.
This year, for our anniversary, I would get him a brand-new Chevrolet Silverado 1500. A truck he had been keeping his eye on for a while before that. There was nothing better than driving out late with him (if you call 6-7 late) when the sun went down and getting to watch it together. Holding one another close as we revel in its beauty.
The sun.
The sun….
That was the problem.
four days ago, the sun went down…and it hasn’t come up since. No sun, not even the FUCKING moon— leaving us in the pitch black.
Where did it go? Where did it go…? Where did it all fucking go…??
With every passing night, things became worse and worse.
On the first night, people began to panic. Coming out of their homes with flashlights, waving them around like searchlights trying to find where the damn moon went. People started to yell at each other in panic; others tried to rationalize and calm one another.
By the second night, we would hear noises from the edge of the town…the woods. Screeching noises, similar to that of an injured deer— but worse. The sound would make your blood run cold and put shivers down one’s spine.
By the third night, those noises got closer. Louder.
Being a snowy state, a lot of people like to invest in generators and other backup power sources. Just in case. But the snow never really goes to the point of concern where you think your power will go out.
These people, the power that they had wasn’t meant to last this long. For some, it went out. I would hear people scream all through the night. Objects crashing in nearby domiciles. They screamed in terror and agony. Neighbors…friends I once knew…crying for help…for mercy.
By that fourth night, Santiago and I couldn’t take it anymore. We decided to hop into the truck and leave, as fast as we could. Our power wasn’t going to last much longer either, which in itself left us with no choice.
We hopped into the Silverado and made for the edge of town. Struggling to follow the road, due to the overwhelming darkness. The only thing illuminating the road ahead being our headlights.
Once we reached the outskirts of town near the forest, a feeling of…unease began to fester inside of me.
Rightfully so.
Finally reaching the road that led into the forest, we hadn’t lasted very long. Something smashed into the side of the truck, flipping it and leaving it to lay in a ditch just off the side of the road. Still having the headlights point at the road in front of us due to the trees catching the truck.
Santiago leaned over, wrapping his arms around me. A small tear visibly rolled down his sweet but bloodstained face. “I’m so glad you’re okay…~” he whispered. “I-I could say the same to you…~” I replied, holding him tightly. “L-listen-, you HAVE to be silent. They’re…right…outside.” He stuttered. “W-who is??–Where’s the gun??” He gestured between the seats and out the front window where the glow of the headlights fell. Just there, at the edge of the road laid our rifle. I looked back into his eyes for some sense of reassurance, but to my dismay found none.
Just then, something rushed past the headlights atop the street, just out of view. We could hear the clicking of nails against the asphalt right outside, going around the truck. Subtly, and fast. I could feel my heart pounding in my chest. I could see the look of terror in Santiago’s eyes.
“All right… I’m gonna go grab the g—” Before he could even finish his sentence, the truck made a crunching noise as it aggressively shook back and forth. Swaying and creaking loudly as something pushed from both sides. We both fell back to the floor and froze in fear, waiting for it to end. I could feel the adrenaline running through my veins while panic took over. Struggling not to scream…taking everything in me to resist the urge. Knowing that if I had messed up in the slightest, any chance we had at survival would be gone. We didn’t know what the hell it was outside.
After only a few more seconds of swaying, it stopped. The clicking receding into the forest just beside us.
We stared at each other and waited. We waited a few more minutes, and suddenly—Santiago began to chuckle a little. Increasing until he couldn’t control himself. His contagious laugh infected me and led me to do the same. We giggled and laughed together until our ribs ached.
Have you ever experienced a moment…when things happen so quickly, you barely believe it’s going on? A hard decision…or a rash one in a situation that you make…feeling like you aren’t even in control. Those small moments feel so surreal, it makes you feel like a spectator. Just. Watching.
It felt so quick. Yet, slow at the very same time. As I turned to my right, facing the slider window—All the relief and joy that I felt left me. Replaced with fear, terror, and panic. I was paralyzed….
Two dots. In the darkness. Two eyes, shined amidst the black. Getting bigger. Moving…closer. Some creature, one I could barely get a glimpse of, slammed into the glass. Shattering it, throwing my body against the back of the passenger seat and my head into the plastic panic bar. Hard. Crashing through the window it sent small glass shards flying. Some from the seat below and more from the slider window beside us. The ringing in my ears was quickly replaced by agonized screams.
The creature, bony and fleshy—A canine-esc skull for a head, sank its teeth and claws into Santiagos’ side and neck. He let out a gargled cry while blood seeped through his light brown T-shirt. The air tasted metallic, overwhelmingly so. It would be nearly impossible not to recoil at the pungent scent.
I outstretched my hand to grasp his. Being able to wrap my hand around his fingertips for just a fleeting moment, only before slipping away. His blood dripped from my hands while I yelled after him. He gargled back in response, trying to scream, but being incapable of doing so. Watching in horror, I saw it drag him further into the darkness and trees; a trail of blood following closely behind. It hadn’t taken him far. I could still hear Santiagos’ desperate, futile screams while it tore into his flesh. Aggressive cracking and snapping, followed by sharp grunts and cries. Only seconds after, but what felt like hours…did I hear him stop. A quick crunch…and then nothing. …Santiago, I love you… and I’m so fucking sorry…so sorry…. Oh my god…
I shook in the backseat of the toppled vehicle with fear. Nowhere to go, nothing to do. My eyes darted around to see anything I could use that could protect me…or even just help in the slightest. There had to be some hope Santiago was alive. He had to be, I told myself. Knowing full well, deep down, he wasn’t.
At that moment, it came to me. The gun. However, before I could fully get to my feet as to climb over the seats and dashboard to get closer to the rifle; seeing the firearm tipping right over, off the road, nearly falling into the ditch—The creature’s head snapped up, just beyond a few trees staring me down. My eyes locked with it and soon, I realized…it wasn’t alone. One, maybe two more followed it closely behind. What looked to be six eyes bobbing in the black, almost tentatively approaching me. There was no time. I couldn’t grab the rifle in time. But I couldn’t move anyway.
The creature in front of the rest, blood dripping down its face and staining small patches of fur from its crest to its withers, halted. The thing stood up, at a stature of about eight feet. Not even breaking eye contact. The thing made a low growling noise as it leaned toward me. Getting closer. It gave off a putrid odor as it approached. A mixture of slobber and blood dripped from its flew and muzzle. I could feel its warm breath against my face— it only being several feet away. Jaw’s stretching, gaping, ready to tear my face from my body. …
The thing shrieked in front of me, snapping its head away; the others receding into the forest. It turned back to me once more, staring with its glazed-over white eyes, before joining the rest of them. Running away on four legs. The sun began to crack through the trees. Dawn had come. After so long. It had finally come…the first dawn in a while that Santiago…wouldn’t get to see with me.
As I stumbled over twigs, branches, and debris—just a few trees away I could see something. My love. He lay mangled…in pieces, strewn across a tiny clearing between the trees. Innards covered the macabre scene. The eyes…or…what was now a single one left in his right eye socket, which used to be full of so much passion– held a lover’s gaze—now lay still. Empty, and devoid of life. Hard believing he was there one second and gone the next–. I could hardly stand. Falling to my knees, I laid just beyond the remains. I didn’t want to see it. I didn’t want to think about it.
I lived. But he didn’t. Did it mean something? Did it mean anything? It should have been me…It should. Have. Been. Me.
But will it matter? Here in this small town in Oregon—When the sun goes down tonight. Who knows, if it will come up tomorrow…?
End.