That Night

You know what it’s like. We have all been there. You wake in the middle of the night and your not sure why, but you do know it’s not because you need the bathroom or because your thirsty. Something woke you, but you’re not sure what.

I was in just this position one night, and instead of turning over and going back to sleep I had the overwhelming urge to find out what had woken me. I swung my legs out of bed feeling the smooth varnished pine floorboards beneath my feet and padded around to the other side of the room trying not to wake my sleeping girlfriend. The security lights from a neighbour’s house managed to find a crack in the curtains lighting my path to the bedroom door.

Stepping out into the upstairs landing I held my breath for long seconds just listening. It sounded like scratching, but very feint, certainly not loud enough to wake me. In any case that damned dog was going to get it in the neck for messing around in the middle of the night; he’s probably got the trash can out again. I set off at a brisk walking pace down the stairs and along the ground floor hall trying to decide if yelling at him was going to be a bad idea or not at this time of night. What was the time?

I reached the kitchen door to find it open, which was more than a little strange because our cocker spaniel “Pepper” is mischievous but a cocker spaniel none the less and physically incapable of reaching the door handle to open it. I stuck a hand out searching for the light switch but then thought better of it, the glare of the spotlights would only hurt my eyes and I was starting to see more clearly now anyway. I rounded the corner and approached Pepper’s basket ready to tell the little shit to keep the bloody noise down till morning. No Pepper! No upturned trash can! What the fuck is going on?

“Pepper.” I called in my most forceful whisper possible. “Pepper where the hell are you?” Then from the spare room directly above me I heard the patter of feet running across the landing and down the stairs into the kitchen with me tail wagging.

“How the bloody hell did you get out?” I asked half expecting the dog to tell me

“I did it” the hushed whisper came from some where behind me. I squinted towards the French doors and the darkened patio, there was definitely someone there. It took a moment for the image to register and for me to collect myself but I rushed to the door ready to pounce on the figure in my garden, but it was locked. I fumbled for the key in the lock and swung the door open only to see what looked like the silhouette of a small child running towards the bottom of my garden. I gave chase, adrenaline coursing through my veins and the sound of blood pumping in my ears. Then it was gone, at first I thought maybe it was hiding in the bushes, but upon closer inspection (as close as you can get searching bushes in the moonlight) I found nothing.

Bewildered and confused I trekked back towards the house trying to make sense of what had just happened, when I saw something that made me freeze on the spot, and the hair on the back of my neck was standing on end, staring back at me through the window in my conservatory was the face of a child. Its beady eyes were the darkest shade of black almost like the surface of an undisturbed pond, and the grin it wore was nothing short sadistic. I don’t know how long I was rooted to that spot staring into those eyes but it felt like two lifetimes.

I broke the stare and sprinted back into the house straight past Peppers empty basket, I could hardly blame Pepper for running back upstairs to the comfort of the spare room; I had similar thoughts myself but my actions now were neither thought out or rational. I ran to the living room through the dining room and swung the conservatory door open. I stood there in silence and darkness with only the sound of my heart thumping against my rib cage and my laboured breathing. I scanned the room but nothing was out of place.

What happened next was so surreal I’m not even sure it happened. Those beady eyes that were burned into my retina seemed to gradually fade in from the darkness boring into my head making it feel like it was going to explode. The TV in the conservatory started to vibrate violently as did the dining table and the pictures on the wall. The whole house seemed to rumble and shake with a noise that could not possibly be measured in decibels, and gradually filtered out into individual noises, almost as if someone had adjusted the fine tuning. It sounded as if an entire battalion of soldiers was marching through my house. My thoughts immediately switched to Lisa, what the hell was going on up there? Was she OK?

I turned and ran for the door, but something inside me made me stop, made me turn back to those eyes, those pools of blackness. I could see images dancing around in them, not dancing but contorting, in those mesmerising orbs. Slowly I was drawn towards them, moving forwards but taking no steps. I was scared, petrified but at the same time felt compelled to keep looking, it was almost involuntary I knew in the back of my mind that I should turn and run, get away from this abomination, but like the commuter driving by the car wreck my eyes were drawn to the images in front of me. Inch by inch I drew closer until our eyes were almost touching.

I looked around; I was no longer in my house I was inside the eyes looking out. All around me were scenes of carnage, to my left a man was having his eyes cut out with a pair of scissors, the sickening snip was unrealistically loud when the mans optic nerve was severed. To my right an old and frail man was being force fed thumb tacks. I closed my eyes, but that produced the most horrific images imaginable, autopsies being carried out on live victims, all the organs being removed one by one. One man was being forced to eat hit own kidneys while the rest of his organs were removed and dumped into a rusty bucket.

I leaned forwards and vomited only to notice I was ankle deep in severed tongues and testicles, all looked the same but different enough to know they were indeed all from different tortured souls. I couldn’t take this madness any more my head was swimming the scenes before me blurred, I didn’t know if I was awake or asleep, if my eyes were open or closed. I felt consciousness slipping from me and I welcomed it.

I woke with a start, I was in my bed and the sun was just starting to rise. I quickly hopped out and went through into the spare room, Pepper was no where to be seen. I turned on my heels and quickly made my way downstairs to the kitchen.

“One Cocker Spaniel? Check.” I mused to myself  pleased that Pepper was in the kitchen, making the previous nights “episode” feel more and more like a horrendous dream. I paced over to the French windows.

“Locked” I muttered under my breath.

I needed to see the conservatory, needed to know for sure. I rushed through to the conservatory like a guy who just slept through his alarm clock, nothing unusual here everything was where it was before I went to bed. I sat down and sunk my head into my hands, relieved that what had happened through the night seemed to be no more than a vivid dream, but at the same time in disbelief that it wasn’t real. I could recall smells and feelings that were never present after a dream.

I went back upstairs and into the bathroom to splash water on my face. I peered into the bathroom mirror and my reflection stared back at me through the blackest eyes I ever saw.

That night I murdered four people.