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A story told to a man by his dying father about a horrible event in his life. |
The rain comes pouring down in torrents, it's been at it like this for days. A man sloshes through the slightly flooded streets with his rubber boots, freezing in the cold air and struggling to hold onto his umbrella as the wind howls past. I guess the weather fits the occasion, he thinks, I can't believe my dad is dying, it seemed like he was so healthy the last time I saw him. The hospital is like a star as it lights up everything in immediate view with the light pouring out of its windows. The man walks inside and relishes the great feel of it after being outside, he rings out his umbrella and throws it into the umbrella holder. As he approaches the front desk his eyes start to water as he thinks of his loving father dying after all these years, he'll never see him again. "Uh... which room is Randy Frost?" "Frost? Hm... that would be room 203, just take the elevator up a floor and it should be right on your left." The man thanks her and begins walking towards the elevator, though decides the stairs would be faster. The sound of his footsteps ring in his ears as he remembers all the good times he had with his father. He stands outside the room for a few seconds, trying to get up the courage to enter and see his father lying in bed almost dead. Finally he walks through the threshold and the sight of his father sitting on his bed staring out the window. "Dad..." he lets out, and his father turns around. "You shouldn't be sitting up, lay down, you're just speeding it up." "I'm glad you're here." his father replies as he lies back down. "Seems nobody else came. Guess I didn't have as many friends as I thought." There's a long silence. "They say I'll be dead by morning, Ral." "Don't worry, Dad, I'll stay with you. Just lie down and relax, don't strain yourself." Ralph says, comfortingly. "No, come over here, son. I have something that I have to tell you before I die. I was told not to relate this particular event to anyone but since I'm about to leave this world I guess it doesn't make any difference anymore." Ralph is trying to comfort his dad any way he can and listening to a little story shouldn't be too straining to his dad. He walks over to the bed and sits next to it while his father makes himself comfortable. "Now, you may not believe me but all of this I am about to share with you is absolutely true, and it might very well have been the reason I'm so sick now. Don't interrupt me while I'm talking, I don't have that much time left." He won't believe it? What kind of story is his dad about to tell? All throughout his childhood Ralph had listened as his father had spun incredible yarns of adventure and fantasy to satisfy his imagination when he was young, but why would his dad warn him before telling a completely true story? He had never noticed any drastic change in his father's demeanor all of a sudden, but this event seemed to have affected him in a very large way, maybe he just wasn't paying that close attention. And Randy thinks that it was what caused his illness, though Ralph had just heard of his dad being sick last month. His dad clears his throat but it turns into a fit of coughs. Ralph rushes over to him but his dad pushes him away with a strong arm. After his breathing leveled out he began his tale. "Three years ago I worked at a bar on the outskirts of the next town over. They don't have a hospital which is why I'm here. I was retired but I needed something to do, working at the bar was great, everyone that came in was really friendly and I liked listening to all the stories they told as they were drinking. I pretty much knew everyone by name that came in everyday but one day someone that I did not know came in. The particular day was pouring rain much like today." He looks out the window and watches the rain fall for a couple of seconds, then continues. "The man burst through the door, making it strike the wall with such force that it got the attention of the entire bar. He was soaking wet as he entered, and one of the things I remember most about him was that he was covered in blood. He was limping and I quickly noticed that he was carrying a rifle so I put my hand on the revolver that was under the bar just in case. I didn't think he was going to do anything, though, he looked dazed, out of it. Everyone's eyes were on him as he sat down at the bar, and placed his rifle next to him. His voice was heavy as he ordered a glass of beer and I quickly got it for him as he looked like he'd been through hell. "As he grasped the drink his hand shook and he spilled it all over himself as he tried to drink. He set it back down on the table and put his face in his hands and started to sob. The entire place was still staring at him and I decided to ask him what was wrong. He jumped, as if he had just realized that I was standing there. 'The f-fucking darkness. Moving of its own free will, enclosing me, enveloping me. My f-friends... blood everywhere, they enjoyed it. They didn't even move from that spot. They spoke but their words were horrible, the language of demons!' He continued rambling but I couldn't stop him, he wasn't making any sense. His voice was shaking as much as his hands and as he tried to take another swig of beer he spilled it again. That's where I decided to stop him. 'Sir. Sir.',I said. He looked up at me and his expression tore me to pieces, he was hurting inside, I could tell. 'What exactly happened to you? You look terrible and... you're covered in blood.' I tried to get him to say something coherent. 'S'not mine.', he replied. 'They didn't do anything to me. I think they let me escape, like a cat playing with an injured mouse.' He must have suddenly felt the pain in his leg. 'My leg though. I must have injured it when I tripped.' He took another drink of beer, though as before hardly any of it entered his mouth. He was beginning to calm down. 'Guess you're thinking I'm crazy or something, I'm not. I'll tell you what happened, though I don't think you'll believe me anyway. 'My friends and I went hunting today, though I guess we should have watched the weather first. I've hunted since I was a little kid and enjoy it a lot, this rifle here', he pats his rifle lying next to him, 'I've had for about 15 years. We drove out to the forest in Alan's truck and when we got there we got out and got all our stuff. Alan, Jack, and I have been friends since high school and enjoyed hunting together. We walked for hours without seeing any animals whatsoever, which I thought was strange, and then the rain started falling. We continued forward in spite of the rain, we didn't want to leave without getting an animal. That's when we heard voices. 'Jack was the first to hear them, they were muffled in the heavy rain. We couldn't make out any of the words but it wouldn't have mattered anyway as I would later find out. We walked toward the voices and entered a clearing, there were three people standing in the middle of it talking. Even this close we couldn't tell what they were saying, they were speaking a language that I didn't recognize. It was course and grating on the ears and didn't sound like it was meant to come out of a person's mouth. As the rain ran down his face Jack addressed them, asked them what they were doing standing in a clearing in the middle of a torrent of rain. 'They quickly spun around, all three of them wearing a shocked look on their faces. They looked between each other and again spoke in that horrible language.'" Ralph's father started coughing and blood ran down the side of his mouth. "Dad!" said Ralph, alarmed, but his father lied back down and continued his story. "The stranger shuddered as he commenced with his story, his voice shaking terribly. 'Th-they pointed and screamed, they looked incredibly angry. One of looked up at Jack and said something. J-Jack began to move against his control, he started screaming, saying he couldn't stop himself. We didn't know what to do!' The stranger put his head in his hands again. 'He p-put his rifle in his mouth and... blood was everywhere. J-Jack's gone! Those bastards killed him!' He stopped for a couple minutes and I let him gather himself back together. I had shivers running up and down my spine by this point. Just the way he was talking... I can't even explain it. After a couple of minutes he went on. 'A-after that it seems like it was a dream, I can't even believe it now. The sh-shadows began to move around me, swirl and twist in ways shadows shouldn't be able to. The three men were just standing there and staring as this all went on. They caused it, they had to of. Then I heard Alan scream, but it was cut off. I looked over to where he was standing but he wasn't there anymore! He had been swallowed up by the darkness. I was there all alone with those three monsters and that's when I ran, just fled. My legs were being sliced by plants and I hit my side on a tree, but I didn't feel it, my body was running on full automatic, fueled by fear. I tripped on something though and fell, that's how I hurt my leg. 'Eventually I reached this place. I don't know how long I had been running, but it seemed like an eternity. I h-hope to God that they didn't follow me here.' He takes another sip of his beer, his hand had almost stopped shaking by now. 'I'm sorry if this all sounds unbelievable, but it all happened. My... my friends were all murdered in front of my eyes!' At that point another man I didn't know walked into the bar. The stranger spun around quick as lightning and visibly shuddered at the sight. The man walking in was dressed all in white, including a white long coat. but his hair was pitch black. There was a strange symbol inscribed on his shirt in red, it looked sort of like a warped spiral inside of a circle. When he was about half-way through the bar when the stranger jumped up with his rifle and pointed it at the man dressed in white. 'YOU BASTARD! DON'T COME ANY CLOSER OR I'LL SHOOT!', he screamed, his voice hoarse. I didn't want to interfere, there was something about that man dressed in white that unsettled me. The rifle shook in the stranger's hand and tears streaked down his face. But then the man in white spoke in that horrible language that the stranger mentioned and he lowered his rifle and dropped it on the floor. The man in white approached him and spoke something into his ear, the stranger then walked out the door slowly and I saw two other people outside dressed in that same white cloak with the red symbol. The man in white then walked toward the door but before he left he turned around and said something in a very heavy accent. 'Tell no one of what you've seen tonight, for your sake as well as ours!' He then walked out and the entire bar was silent. I quickly ran outside, though if the story the man told was true there would be nothing I could have done. As I went outside however, nobody was there. They just vanished into thin air. I don't know what the hell happened to this day and, to tell you the truth, I really have no desire to know. That night a lot of people left town, evidently too frightened of something like that happening again. I stayed for the next couple of years until my health degenerated so much that I had to come here, though. This condition began a few weeks after that event and I'm convinced that it caused it, though how I don't know." Ralph's dad fell silent after these words escaped his lips and he was stunned. There's no way this story could be true could it? This world is a dark place but what his father just described... black is just too light a color to equate it to that event. "Dad... that all happened? There's no way." Ralph said, shaking his head back and forth. "Regardless of what you think it's all true. I just had to get it off my chest before the life is sucked from my lungs. I'm kind of disappointed that you don't believe your own father but I can understand your doubt." He rolled over, "Goodnight Ralph. I love you." he said. "I love you too dad, good night." He curled up on the bench and soon fell asleep. The next morning he woke up and the sun was in the sky, the storm had cleared. As he looked over he saw that his dad's bed was empty and knew that he had passed away sometime in the night. He walked back downstairs and as he was about to leave the attendant at the front desk called him back. "Excuse me, sir. Your... dad left you something for me to give to you after..." She looked down sadly. She reached under the counter and pulled something out, placing it in Ralph's hand. It was his dad's pocket watch. He stared at it for a while, tears welling up in his eyes, and he thanked the attendant. When he got outside he admired the clear sky, the clouds moving across it, and the brightness of this day. He looked down at the watch in his hand. "If your story was true, dad, then I guess death must be a reprieve." |