The darkness, a shroud of terror. The house`s emptiness called to my mind's fears and it was feeding my imagination. I buried myself in my beds covering blankets. “there... as snug as a bug in a rug," I said to myself and tried to think about anything else other than the house`s emptiness. The sound of the house echoed through the silence as it creaked and groaned. The settling house played games with my mind, but my greatest fear, because my bed faced the door, if an assailant was to enter he would spot me straight away. There would be no escape except maybe through the room's only window; but the glass would cut me to shreds, so that would be out of the question. But then again cuts can be healed; death can`t.
If it wasn`t for the beam of dull light projecting through the window, emanating from the night's full moon as it shone through the windows curtains gap, the room would be completely dark. The moonlight cast shadows that danced to life, fear mirages.
The cupboard’s door was ajar so my mind started to believe an entity was waiting inside, ready to pounce and take possession of my soul.
The tiny hairs on my nape began to stand. My breath, rapid in time with my pulsating blood. My pounding heartbeat thumped in my ears. Fear now held me in its tight grip and insisted never to let go.
All alone I felt like I was prey ready to be pounced upon by an invisible stalker, only to reveal itself at the final moment of attack. It`s funny how when we are alone at night, the darkness drinks your fears as it plays tricks with your mind. The darkness was drinking in my fear, quenching its thirst, while angst was greedily feeding to satisfy its huge hunger. I`m almost certain demons are laughing at the charade nighttime can play on the lone and vulnerable. Tonight the demons are laughing at me.
--------------------
There had been a massacre in my house, close to one hundred and fifty years ago. Whether it was natives or escaped convicts no-one really knows who committed this atrocity; or why. It was in a time when police resources were poor and out here their care factor was close to zero, so the case went unsolved. There were rumours and speculation but nothing was ever proven one hundred percent, but what was certain was that six people had been murdered including four women, a child and one stranger. No-one really knew for sure if the stranger was a guest at the property or one of the assailants, but what is known he died quite violently; as did the others.
On occasions, especially when I`m all alone on deep, dark nights I have heard scampering of little feet and a child’s giggle sending chills up my spine. I end up putting it down to my mind playing tricks on me and the darkness feeding my imagination. Maybe to myself I just say this to keep my mind all at ease. And tonight I can hear the scampering of tiny feet above my head [through the space between the ceiling and the roof]. The logical part of my brain tells me it is only a small animal [which is very possible as the homestead is surrounded by bush] but the illogical part of my brain tells me it might be something else, something to fear. A knot in my stomach forms.
Then it happens my greatest fear was coming to life, it was no mind mirage, it was no trick of imagination just a waking nightmare. Through the gap underneath the door, a drifting fog. It slowly drifted into the room and stopped at the foot of my bed. Inside the fog I could see an outline of a figure, shadowy.
I know shadows in the dark can play tricks but this was no trick of the mind, this was real. So I pulled the bed`s blankets over my head. I closed my eyes, thinking this might make this Specter suddenly disappear. It didn`t, I could still feel its presence.
Though the night air was cool-normal for this time of year, in the middle of autumn, the air became as cold as a snowy winter night.
I felt a weight fall onto my bed, the bed springs creaked with the addition of the extra weight. Then I felt something press against my chest. I wanted to scream but instead I gasped for air, the air was heavy and stale. .
The heavy stench of death filled the room, then it hit me, it was the spectre's breath I could smell. I realized his face was just on the other side of the blankets to mine. I could hear a hissing sound, an evil hissing sound [louder, deeper and more throaty than a snake hiss]. I wasn`t sure if the hiss was the sound of his breathing or just the sound he makes to strike fear and terror into his victims. If it was the latter it was working well! It sent shivers up my spine.
I could feel a bead of sweat running down from my forehead, heading towards my cheek but before it got there it froze; a salty icicle.
I began to realize that he must use smell and/or a type of sonar to move around because his eyesight is either non-existent or very poor. He must think the lump is normal otherwise the shape of my blankets would alert him to my whereabouts. I dared not move or make a sound because that would only alert him to my immediate presence.
I closed my eyes hoping I`d wake up from this terrifying nightmare; I didn`t. I had to think I was on a tropical island drinking cocktails in the sun to try and ward off the cold, to stop my teeth from chattering. I knew if my body made any sound then things would end badly for me, so far this was working. But at the same time I`m grateful the air is so cold because if it was warm, I would be sweating, intensifying my smell and that could also lead to an outcome I didn`t want to think about.
Suddenly the weight above my chest disappeared but I knew he was still there .
I began thinking that he must be levitating so I would think he was gone and If I were to come out of my hidey hole he would be waiting for me, ready to pounce; making me his next victim. The flaw in his plan, I could still hear his hisses.
So I remained in my sanctuary under the blankets. Hopefully I didn`t have to remain there for too much longer. You see the air was becoming lighter; staler. The last thing I needed was only stale thin air to breath or worse; no air at all. Still terrified, my body silently shook with nervous convulsions.
Suddenly all became quiet, the scary hissing stopped so I greedily gulped a couple of long, deep breaths.
‘Maybe I shouldn’t have done that" I thought, as the air, which I gulped, burnt the insides of my lungs. But I got the courage to take a peak and I peeked just in time to see the fog disappear back under the door`s gap, taking the spectre with it. I was now safe so I threw back the blankets and deeply drew in a couple of lungs full of fresh air. I must`ve looked like a fish after the fisherman caught him, laying on the riverbank gulping for air. I felt the room`s temperature had returned back to normal, cool but not biting cold.
I closed my eyes and rolled into the foetal position running through my mind, it was like viewing a B grade horror movie but the only difference was the mysterious events that just unfolded was my reality. Even though the fog had gone my mind still remained foggy. The spectre had manifested an impression of itself into my every thought.
There was no escape from the thoughts of the spectre's presence. Every tiny scrutinization of what just unfolded was just a piece of a mysterious puzzle waiting to be solved. But for every question there was no definitive answer and I thought that after the spectre had disappeared my mind would become clear and I would process the event analytically and easily solve this mystery, with every minute detail being easily explained. It did not.