Window Watcher

by Matt Converse

  “You’re right about that,” he agrees. “He is really hot. Oh, and it looks like he has a cat.”

  I look back up and there is a small black cat perched on the window sill outside his window.

  “Oh that’s the neighbor’s cat,” I tell him. “It’s from the family down there,” I say pointing to the apartment below. “It belongs to the little girl that lives there. It’s named Midnight, I think it’s a male. She’s always letting him out and he climbs all around the windows and down into the air well. He comes over to my window sometimes too. He’s friendly, or nosy, I’m not sure which. He gets up and peers in my window and meows. If I don’t go over to him, he scratches on the screen. One time he even got up on it and the screen popped out back toward him and scared the hell out of him— he took off running. But usually he just peers in and meows.”

  “Aww, that’s so cute,” Icarus says. “I love that cats are so curious and they don’t care if you know it; it’s so cute that he comes to your window and peers in at you like that. What a little cutie.”

  “Yeah he is, but I don’t think our window man feels the same way,” I say, pointing toward the window.

  He is shooing the cat away, and Midnight jumps down to the ledge below where the family that owns him lives.

  He then pulls the shade down.

  “That nosy cat! I guess the show is over for today,” Icarus says. “Just as well, I’m not really into a live show of straight sex— although he is hot as hell. I can’t believe he’s with a girl now. You’ve now seen him with two guys and a woman in less than a week. That guy sure gets around.”

  “Yeah, he does,” I agree. “I’m surprised he’s bisexual, but I guess we shouldn’t be. I mean, we don’t really know anything about him.”

  “We know he has a lot of sex with quite a variety of people,” Icarus says.

  “Yeah, that’s true. But we just saw a little glimpse into his life and made all these assumptions about him. Now we know at least one of them isn’t true. Hell, five minutes ago we thought he might be the gay killer.”

  “That’s true.”

  “Yeah I guess it was all in our imaginations after all,” I say with noticeable disappointment in my voice.

  “If people were watching us right now I wonder what they’d think of the way we’re acting. We have to be two of the most ghoulish people around,” he says.

  “What do you mean?” I ask.

  “We’re acting disappointed because we found out that someone isn’t a killer. That’s pretty messed up.”

  I laugh. “I guess it is, but I’m expected to think this way— I write this kind of stuff, what’s your excuse?”

  “I guess you’re rubbing off on me,” he says, raising his eyebrows.

  “Oh so it’s all my fault?” I ask with a smile.

  “Of course!”

  Later on, we head out to catch a movie and get a bite to eat. The sun goes down on our way back and the fog starts to roll in. It gets darker much faster when that happens. We stop and get burritos at a place just two blocks from where I live. After we finish and walk down the sidewalk, the fog just keeps rolling in.

  “Wow, the fog is really thick, I’ve never seen it like this— at least in this part of town,” Icarus says.

  “I know, up in Twin Peaks it gets like this, but I’ve never seen it like this in all the years I’ve lived here. This is bizarre. You can hardly see— it’s kind of spooky.”

  “It is,” Icarus says. “Let’s get back to your place.”

  We pick up the pace, but not too much because we really can’t see more than a few feet in front of us, and the fog just keeps getting thicker. As we reach my cross street, you can only see the car lights from the cars on the street. We carefully cross the street and reach my block. I’ve never seen fog like this, there is definitely something spooky about it. You can hear people on the sidewalk but you can’t really see them.

  Even though we no longer think our neighbor is the killer, we still feel a bit uneasy walking down the foggy sidewalk up to my building. He may not be the killer, but someone is, and he’s out there, somewhere. I look both ways through the thick fog, and grab Icarus’s hand as we turn toward our building.

  “The fog is so thick you can hardly see anything,” Icarus says. “This is creepy.”

  We are literally lost in the fog, but I have a good sense of direction and we are almost at the front gate of my apartment building. It’s quiet and with the fog making it impossible to see, the sense of sound seems heightened as I am very aware of the sound of our feet walking toward the gate. Then suddenly I hear a shuffle from someone very near us. I look around, but can see nothing but fog. I know we are only a matter of feet from my front gate. I squeeze Icarus’s hand tight and quickly try to get to it.

  “I’d be careful if I was you,” a strange high pitched voice says from somewhere in the fog. The voice is bone-chillingly terrifying. It sounds like a man imitating a woman’s voice in a sing-song creepy kind of way.

  Icarus squeezes my hand tight and we dart to my front gate and I quickly get the right key to unlock the gate, but my hand is shaking and it isn’t easy to see. As I fumble to get the key in, I again hear the shuffle of someone’s feet near us. Very near us. Icarus squeezes my hand even tighter. I can still hear that eerie voice in my head as I try to get the key in. Why isn’t it going in? I know I have the right key. I realize it must be upside down and turn it around.

  “Hurry, Heston,” Icarus urges me, gripping my hand for all it’s worth.

  I cringe and brace myself for hearing that eerie voice again. Icarus squeezes tighter yet as I swing open the gate. My heart is beating fast. We run up the stairs to my front door. I listen for the sound of the gate closing behind us and take a deep breath when I don’t hear it. My heart beats even faster. Is whoever was following us now inside the gate too? Is that why I haven’t heard it shut? Just then, I hear it slam shut. I sigh with relief, but not total relief as I realize it might just be the gate shutting behind someone else. I quickly get to my front door and make sure I have the key turned the right way this time. My hand is shaking, but the key slips in and I unlock my door and we hurry in. Icarus quickly shuts the door behind us and I lock and then chain lock the door. I finally exhale and sigh with relief.

  “Oh shit that scared the hell out of me! Who was that?” Icarus asks. “That voice was so creepy!”

  “I know, I don’t know who the hell that was. I was scared too that’s why I ran and got us in here so fast. Was it a woman or a man?”

  We are both out of breath.

  “I think it was a man with a high voice, but it had a weird tone to it, some kind of accent— it was like high pitched broken English. Strange.”

  “It was but maybe we are just spooking ourselves because of everything that’s been happening and all the fog tonight made the city look so dark and eerie. Now that you say broken English and I think about it, it might have been my neighbor. I don’t know her name, but we’ve seen each other through the years and say hello. She’s an old Chinese woman and doesn’t speak English that well. I’m thinking maybe it was her.”

  “Oh, maybe you’re right we just scared ourselves,” Icarus agrees. “But it was a strange sounding voice, it almost sounded like a man pretending to be a woman.”

  “Oh my god I was thinking the same thing! You know who it sounded like? Norman Bates in Psycho when he’s pretending to be his mother, it had that same weird high pitched creepy quality to it. It did scare me I can’t lie. But maybe we just heard it that way because of everything that’s happened. It was probably that lady— she lives in the house right next to this building, and she was probably just telling us to be careful because of the fog.”

  “I don’t know, the way that voice said, ‘I’d be careful if I was you,’ it sounded more like a threat than someone looking out for us. It sounded creepy as hell to me.”

  “Yeah, it did but at least we’re inside now,” I tell him. “I really think we just spooked ou
rselves. If it was that neighbor she probably wonders what the hell is wrong with us running up the stairs like that. Oh well. Let’s just relax. We know the guy living up in the window isn’t the gay killer and I’m sure whoever it is doesn’t live anywhere near here.”

  “Yeah, you’re right,” Icarus says. “I think it was all that fog and it being so dark out and then that voice— it was right out of a horror movie.”

  “It was. Let’s just chill out and watch a movie or something— let’s stay away from horror —maybe a comedy.”

  Icarus laughs and we plop down on the sofa. After a few minutes Icarus gets up and I hear him microwaving something in the kitchen. He comes back a few minutes later with a big bowl of popcorn. We munch some down and watch a little TV and just when we start to relax, we suddenly hear a loud, high-pitched scream, then another one. It sounds like a girl screaming.

  We jump up and look out the bedroom window where it’s coming from and can see by the moonlight it’s the little girl across from me at her window. I can now see stars in the sky; it looks like most of the fog has cleared. That surprises me because usually it stays around for a while, especially when it is that thick. This weather is very strange.

  “It’s Midnight! Mommy! Daddy! He’s dead!”

  The father appears at the window and reaches out to retrieve the dead cat’s limp body. It has a rope around its neck.

  “Oh my God!” Icarus exclaims at the sight of it.

  “Someone killed it, he’s been strangled!” the father shouts. “What kind of person would kill a cat like this? God damn sicko! Whoever did this, you’re a god damn sicko!”

  Then the mother sticks her head out, obviously distraught.

  “Who would kill a harmless little cat? He was the only one in the whole building that was friendly. He liked everyone. Is that why you killed him, because he was friendly and liked you? Did you kill him just because you could?”

  What kind of twisted mind would kill a cat— or anyone —because they liked them I wonder to myself?

  The little girl continues to scream and cry as the woman pulls her head back in and the man slams the window shut. I can hear people’s voices from other windows. I can’t see them but can hear them— all the people in the building are buzzing about it. I’m sure everyone in the whole building is looking out their window right now. That little girl’s scream was one high pitched piercing shriek. It would have woken up the dead. The poor thing. It’s one thing to have your cat die, but to find it like that is beyond terrible.

  “How demented,” Icarus says. “That’s so twisted. Who the hell would kill a cat? And why?”

  “And to do it like that,” I say, shaking my head. “That poor little girl.”

  “Why would someone want to kill a cat?” Icarus wonders. “And to make a noose like that and strangle it— what kind of mind even thinks of that? That’s not just nuts, that’s scary crazy.”

  I look around at the windows and then look back to Icarus.

  “Maybe we should ask who would want to kill that particular cat,” I say.

  “What do you mean, Heston?”

  “You know, when I saw the window man with that woman it almost convinced me he wasn’t the killer,” I tell Icarus. “Now I’m not so sure.”

  “Why?” he asks.

  “Just because he was with a woman doesn’t mean he’s not the gay killer. Maybe he’s straight, but just kills the gay guys he picks up. We don’t know anything about him or how his mind works; I was thinking about that earlier. But now I have an even bigger reason for thinking he still might be the killer.”

  “What? What?” Icarus yells impatiently.

  “Look,” I say, pointing to his window. “You can see him just sitting in his chair, from the light flickering he must be watching TV, smoking a cigarette.”

  “So?”

  “He’s the only person in the whole building who didn’t react to the screaming. Any normal person would have come to the window when they heard that girl scream to see what was going on, but he didn’t. Why? There’s only one reason not to— because he already knew what she was screaming about. On top of that, he knew he did it and didn’t want to be seen at his window.”

  “Oh my God, you’re right. But why would he kill a cat?” Icarus asks, looking at me curiously but then seeming to figure it out. “Because he was the cat who knew too much?”

  A Dark Night

  Icarus leaves later that night, but I almost wish he had spent the night again, because honestly I am a little scared being alone. What if this guy really is the killer? Every time I walk by the window I’m reminded what might be just across the air well and up one floor. It’s way too close for comfort. I try to tell myself not to, but I can’t help but look up at his window. I’ve become addicted to watching his window. The shades are drawn. I look back several times that night, but his shades are still down and it’s dark inside. Either he’s not home or he went to bed already. I know my window watching is obsessive now, but it’s hard not to be when I think he might be the killer. Icarus and I talked about calling the police, but what reason did we really have especially now that we see he is bi? It doesn’t exactly fit the profile of the ‘gay killer’. And after we talked about it, we can’t be sure he didn’t go to the window when the little girl screamed. He might have when it first happened and then sat back down by the time we looked. I glance up at his window again and notice the fog is now obscuring the moon completely again, it’s a very dark night. It’s been so odd with the fog tonight going back and forth; that isn’t normal. You can see no stars or anything, it’s a black sky shrouded in fog. Looking at the fog reminds me of that creepy voice telling us, “I’d be careful if I were you.” It still sends a shiver down my spine when I think of it. I try to wipe it from my mind, but I fall asleep feeling uneasy and unsafe.

  I wake up later and have a strange hazy memory of a dream about being in my grandmother’s basement. Someone or something is after me and I run back past the furnace and little makeshift stall bathroom into my grandfather’s little work room at the very back. I grab the stool from his desk and stand up on it and open a small cabinet on the top of the wood paneling on the wall. It is dark inside and appears to have no back to it. I crawl up into it and it’s a small dark tunnel. I crawl on my hands and knees trying to find my way to safety. I’m not sure whom I’m running from, but I feel panic that this is my only way out and it is so small I am afraid I’m going to get stuck in it. Fear hits me that if I do get stuck, no one will know and I will die here. I don’t where the tunnel is going, but I feel the anxiety of trying to get away from something. Whatever is after me I know this tiny tunnel is my only way out. I can picture darkness and flashlights looking for me. I feel a sense of dread and urgency. Whoever or whatever is after me has a dark, ominous presence almost like the feeling of a hostile military takeover, but it feels even bigger and scarier than that, almost as if the earth is being invaded and taken over from another planet. I go a long way but as I do it gets smaller and smaller. Panic sets in that I cannot turn around. If it keeps getting smaller what will I do? Just then I actually do feel stuck it is so small. I try to move my arms but can’t, there’s no room. My heart pounds and I feel the fear of being trapped there. I let my body go limp and try to relax, telling myself not to panic. I stay still for a few minutes and just breathe. That’s the last thing I remember. I can’t remember how the dream ends. Do I make it to the end of the tunnel? And what is there when I get there? Even though I’m awake now I still feel a sense of anxiety over it. I tell myself to calm down that it was just a dream— but it felt so real. I take a deep breath and try to fall back to sleep, but it isn’t easy because I sure as hell don’t want to dream that again. Eventually, I do nod off.

  Time passes, but I have no idea how long before I get up to go the bathroom. After I’m done going I stand there for just a minute. I feel fuzzy headed and half asleep, almost like I am sleep walking. Am I awake or still dreaming? My thoughts feel so cloudy.
I can feel the night breeze coming through the small bathroom window that is cracked open. The air suddenly feels very cold and I reach to push the window down. But as I do a hand suddenly reaches through window from the outside. Holy hell! It startles the crap out of me— I jump at the sight of it. Before I know it, it grabs me by the throat.

  I try to scream but am gagged. The grip is strong and is choking me. Holy shit, I think to myself, it’s him. He somehow knows we were watching him. He knows that we know. I shudder in fear. An image of me being cut up into bloody pieces and stuffed into a garbage can flashes through my mind. The grip tightens around my throat. I’m sure it’s him outside the window grabbing me, but then I see the arm isn’t attached to anyone— it’s a severed arm! It’s bloody at the shoulder where it has been sawed off. Jagged pieces of bloody flesh hang off the end of it along with bloodied bones exposed at the end. I squirm in disbelief and scream. The dismembered arm and hand squeezes tighter around my neck.

  The arm contorts back and forth like a thick snake and the hand is like its mouth grabbing me at the neck. It doesn’t just seem to be an arm, it is a creature in itself that looks like an arm. It’s a creepy feeling looking at it writhe back and forth as the hand clenches my throat like an animal attacking its prey. I grab at the arm to pull it off and the hand turns just like the head of a snake and grabs my arm. The arm creature makes some strange hissing sound like no other animal I’ve ever heard before. It’s much deeper and more gravely than a snake, it sounds demonic. There is a strange strong smell coming from it, but it is not the smell of a creature, it’s more like burning metal. The hand-head continues to hiss and then it starts to shriek and screech as the skin starts peeling off it like a snake shedding its skin. It continues a high-pitched cry as the outer skins peels off, revealing a slimy red color underneath, like an arm would look if you ripped off the skin. Then the neck narrows and twists until the hand-head snaps off and falls to the floor with a splat. That doesn’t kill it as it wriggles and squirms on the floor. The hand opens and lets out a shriek. Then the head-hand darts up the side of the wall and slithers out the window. It leaves a trail of blood behind it like the slime of a snail. The rest of the arm creature now splats onto the floor as well. It’s bloody at both ends but just looks like a skinless arm now, with no hand. I stare at it and wonder if it was just an arm all along and I just hallucinated the rest. Then I realize how crazy that sounds. I feel the wind come through the window and I see the bloody hand reach in and push the window shut from the outside.