The Open Window

The Open Window


A damp breeze rolled through the tall oaks. There was oddness to their movement. They seemed paralyzed, almost as if death itself were conquering their limbs. Looking through the window you could see the room had succumbed to the hours of darkness, lit weakly by a desk lamp. Shadows floated around the room like souls of the damned dancing for redemption.

Oblivious of everything but his dreams a middle-aged man slept as his desk. A grandfather clock stood near the door to his office, striking midnight it disrupted his reverie. Groggy he rubbed his eyes and noticed the time. Looking down at a stack of papers “I’ll finish this tomorrow” he said. Standing as a chill climbed his spine, he turned to see the open window.

“Holy Crap, it’s May. Why is the air so cold?”

Closing it he noticed the breeze and the lifeless oaks, though finding it odd he still didn’t pay it much mind. The breeze turned violent before the window could be shut. It knocked out the power so quickly you would have thought it was a candle being snuffed out. He hesitated from fear as the gray fog spilled over the sill; it hovered above his feet like a crow stalking the dead.

With the window shut. His arms in front of him, he attempted to feel his way through the dark. “Where is my flashlight?” he stated aloud, followed by a howl of pain as his knee hit the desk, the blow knocked him to the floor. Pulling himself up a strong presence seemed to grow in the room. Goosebumps formed on his cool skin, standing quickly, he shook his head in an effort to rid the entity, the presence only grew stronger. A sick feeling came over his gut; his hands rubbed it as he quickened his pace to the door.

“What are you doing Michael? You’re fifty not fifteen. This is childish. There’s nothing behind you but air.”

Gritting his teeth as he clinched his fists, he swung around to see that… nothing was there. Feeling silly he said. “My God, your wife already thinks you’re a coward this would just prove her right!”

Turning around he caught a glimpse of a shadowy figure. He closed his eyes in disbelief, opening them he saw nothing and let out a nervous laugh. Finally reaching the door he turned the knob but found it to be stuck from the other side. The gray haze of fog floated up the wall and wrapped itself around Michael’s body. The air was so cold, it burned.

Jerking away he stumbled backward hitting something that he knew was not there before. Looking up he saw a tall gray creature standing in front of him. Illuminated from the neck down by moonlight, it’s face obscured by total darkness; without hesitation it slashed Michael across the face. Grabbing his cheek he felt the warm blood as it trickled through his fingers, he backed into a wall. The creature grabbed him by the throat and jerked him up with ease. A long snake like tongue protruded from its swollen gray/blood dried lips. Michael wept as the creature licked his face. “Please…please let me go! I don’t want to die.” His plea fell on deaf ears.

The creature let out a horrific roar. A look of sheer terror glazed over his victims eyes. The creature jerked his head back so hard it felt as if the jolt had given Michael whiplash. It hissed louder and louder, its lips curled back to reveal two bright fangs, they seemed to glow in the moonlight. Michael was entranced by them as the creature punctured his neck. It slurped the blood and ripped the skin away to reveal veins and his esophagus.

Michael’s body flailed, the creature tightened his grip and his victim was subdued. The creature sucked until he was dry, once he no longer felt a heartbeat; he dropped the corpse to the floor. Licking the blood from his lips as he turned to face the window and gaze out into the night with his demonic eyes.