All at once his mind screamed at him to look above, to look upwards. He strained his head with all his might but nothing happened. The only thing he could do was roll his eyes upwards. His pupils sat at the top of his eyes and seemed to burn into his forehead but as he stared he began to see something forming. About a foot above his head a shape was emerging from the headboard. To Harry it looked like the shape of a featureless snake. It was entirely black and perfectly cylindrical and as it slowly came out further and further from the headboard Harry noticed two smaller cylindrical like black shapes were emerging from the left and right sides of the main attraction. Each protrusion of the creature seemed to come in and out of focus as he watched. Sometimes it would be like looking into the pure blackness of a starless night sky and other times it would look like an out of focus blurred picture. The 'head' of the creature, whatever it was, had been extending in a straight line perpendicular to Harry's position but now it seemed to notice him and it began to bend towards him almost as if it was looking at him. It moved in closer and closer to Harry's line of sight and as it did the smaller cylindrical like 'arms' of the creature began to descend as well. Its head was now pushed up directly against Harry's forehead while its arms were poking, prodding, and feeling all over his body. They reached through his blankets, his clothes, and even himself. He felt like his very soul was being raped. He tried to scream but nothing came out. He was frozen in place with this thing’s ghastly head pressed up against his. His eyes closed hoping that it would go away that this was all just a dream hoping against hope that he would wake up soon.
When he reopened his eyes it was gone. There was nothing there. Could it have just been a dream? He tried to get up again but found he was still bound. He was still frozen to this damned bed. His eyes darted right and saw the open window but nothing else. His eyes darted to the left towards Eleanor. There was a moment of hesitation and then Harry began to scream.
--
Eleanor lay in bed enjoying the buzzed feeling of the alcohol, the afterglow of sex, and the peace of knowing that the next six days would repeat over and over again. She drifted off to sleep without a care in the world.
Two hours later she was awoken. The cottage was black except for the moonlight shining in through the window. Everything was quiet. The only sound she could hear was the humming of the locusts and the occasional hooting of a distant owl. She tried to rollover on her side to go back to sleep when she realized her body was not responding. She tried again but nothing happened. A wave of panic began to kindle inside her. She focused on her hand, if she could just move her hand or just one finger maybe everything else would come back. She pushed and pushed with her mind but nothing happened. Her finger lay dormant and even if it had moved she couldn't even lift her head to see if it did. The kindle of panic began to feed and grow into an intense flame. Why couldn't she move? Was she dreaming? What was going on?
A moment later she saw it, whatever it was. It was just a black floating shape that seemed to resemble a snake without any eyes our mouth. Its long cylindrical body continued into a wisp of a tail. There were two smaller objects, arms maybe, which seemed to join halfway into the large cylinder. It was floating over Harry and now it was drifting towards her. It moved with alarming speed and was on top of her in mere seconds. Its void like face was pressed up against the center of her forehead its arms were reaching and groping all over her body. It caressed her thigh, it combed through her hair, and it touched her neck. She could feel it but not physically, it was something else. It was attaching itself to her and as she thought that the head of the creature that was pressed against her began to widen and expand at first it doubled in size, then tripled, and then continued growing. Eleanor tried to run, she tried to push it away, even tried to scream but it was all in vain. There was nothing she could do. The thing's head was the size of her now. As she watched the enormous head of the specter began to open to reveal a completely empty mouth of white. The white grew brighter and brighter and after a few seconds the white light rushed towards her. The entire room grew bright as the sun and then flash like a camera going off the room was dark again.
Knock Knock
The sound came from right above the headboard. It sounded like someone was directly behind their bed rapping their fists against the headboard. The sound echoed throughout the room and their eardrums. Then the room was silent. Eleanor was still frozen in place the only thing she could hear was her heart pounding erratically in her chest. A few seconds later Eleanor heard a scream. It wasn't just a scream. It was the most panicked scream she had ever heard. It was Harry’s scream. Her eyes moved towards Harry’s side of the bed and as they did she began to scream as well. Harry was floating a few feet above the bed in a somewhat contorted fashion. His back was twisted and arched inwards, his right arm was bent and pressed up against his upper back, his left arm below the elbow was flopping and shaking back and forth bending in ways it shouldn’t. His panicked screams were now mixed with screams of pain. Eleanor heard a rough cracking sound, similar to the sound when you pop your knuckles, and she realized that it was coming from Harry. Through great effort Harry was able to turn his face towards hers and whisper something, she couldn’t make it out, and then another knocking came without warning.
KNOCK KNOCK
The bed shook violently from the knocking and the wall against the headboard felt like it was going to buckle. Harry and Eleanor locked eyes once more and then Harry was gone. Whatever it was that was carrying him, that was causing him to float, threw him against the far wall with such force that the wall itself was torn open into a big gaping hole. Shards of timber, glass from the window, and even shingles from the roof flew in disarray. Harry was thrown through the wall into the blackness of the night. As he fell Eleanor could hear his screaming fade and become distant, and then like a switch being turned from on to off Harry’s screaming was gone. The quiet greeted her again but Eleanor’s screaming continued and as she screamed the world begin to darken around her. She woke up as the rays of the morning sun shone through the hole in the back of the cottage.
--
The back of the cottage faced the east. It was designed so that its visitors could sit on the back deck overlooking the deep forested valley below and watch the sun slowly rise. Its rays would greet the trees slowly at first but as the time went on the entire valley would be coated in its brilliance. Today was no different. It was just before seven in the morning and the sun’s rays were now greeting the back of the cabin. Normally the rays would only penetrate the bay window and the deck itself but now there was a rather large sized hole that formed at the base of the bay window, spiraled out to the left and right, and rose to the roof of the building. The deck was still mostly intact, there were a few broken boards here and there but it was salvageable. Splintered wood, remains of the window, and pieces of the roof lay strewn about the deck as well as inside the cottage. As Eleanor slept a curious chipmunk wandered into the open building and began to explore the new area.
The sun hit her eyes a few minutes later and Eleanor sat upright without thinking and screamed Harry’s name. The scream seemed to taunt her and hung in the air like a wet fog. She thought she had heard a faint knocking from behind her as she woke, but she shook it off as nothing. Her whole body ached and sitting up so violently caused last night’s alcohol to come roaring back up in a bright yellow fountain. She made no attempt for the bathroom. She didn’t even aim for the floor. She just leaned forward and let it loose on the cold bedspread.
Her mind slowly came to wake and she began to process last night’s events. Could she have dreamt it all, could it have been one terrible nightmare? It had to be. It had to have been a nightmare. How else could you explain it? A skittering noise across the floor near the window caught her attention. She took one glance to the right and realized the sickening truth. It was not a nightmare. The hole was there and Harry was gone. His blankets were still pulled up just as they were when he was sleeping but he was gone. He had be
en thrown into the valley, by something. She leaned forward, covered her face, and began to weep. The skittering chipmunk continued to rummage through the debris at the foot of her bed.
She had to find him. She had to find Harry. He had to still be alive, he had to be. Still in her nightgown and barefoot, Eleanor got out of bed and crawled over the debris towards the open hole. The broken glass cut and sliced her feet. The timber splintered and dug into her heels. It didn’t matter. When she reached the deck she viewed the valley once more. Its majesty and beauty were gone. Instead it seemed like a vast merciless ocean. The trees were like waves as they swayed back and forth in the wind. Harry was out there somewhere, and she was going to find him.
There was a set of stairs off on the right side of the deck that jutted out back towards the house. She took the stairs and then turned herself around to face the steep incline. Without a moment’s hesitation she started running down the incline and as she ran she began to cry again. The terrain was rough for the seasoned hiker and it was no kinder to Eleanor. As she descended the hill the branches, brushes, and twigs all snapped, cut, and sliced into her exposed arms and face. Her feet were covered in blood from the glass and now from the sharp rocks that were jutting out of the landscape. The decline of the hill seemed like it went on forever and at times had grown sharper and sharper. Towards the middle of the hill she found that she didn’t even have to run, gravity was doing the work for her. The force of the hill propelled her further beyond her control. An unseen boulder stuck out upwards towards the incline. Its jagged edge welcomed Eleanor as she sprinted down the hill. She tripped over something, she wasn’t sure what. The trip caused her to fly forward, and for a moment she was airborne, and then she crashed down on top of the waiting boulder. Her right thigh slammed into the jagged edge and as it did the boulder entered like an awaiting dagger. She screamed in pain and without thinking yanked her thigh from the boulder with surprising force. Blood spurted from the wound. At first it came out like an erupting volcano but after some time it slowed to a constant and steady stream that went down her thigh, past her knee, and dribbled all the way down to her foot. She did not stop to survey the damage. She had to get Harry.
Eventually the hill leveled out towards the very bottom of the valley. Down here the trees were thick and tall. There were long brown almost hairy like vines growing on all of the trees that were at least four to five inches around. They hugged and clung to the trees like parasites. Some hung down from the tree limbs like jungle vines. She half expected to see a monkey emerge and begin swinging from vine to vine. The forest floor was rather mundane. There were logs from trees that had fallen long ago, numerous leaves and other plant debris, and a few small bushes that had somehow obtained enough sunlight to continue growing. Under better circumstances this would have been a great place to explore. Who knew how long this thick forest went on?
Even with the numerous trees the morning’s sun rays sprinkled in an out on the ground floor. Eleanor placed both her hands above her eyebrows in a poor attempt to form a visor. She scanned left, right, and straight ahead but found nothing but the endless forest. Having no idea where to even start looking she just started walking straight ahead. She didn’t know why but she felt like she would find Harry. Even though this forest stretched on for miles in each direction and she wasn’t even able to see where Harry was thrown too she still felt like she was going to find him.
A stab of pain hit her again and she glanced down at her thigh with a grimace. Her right leg looked like it had been dipped in a tub of red paint while her left was nearly untouched except for a few scrapes here and there. Her normally stunning blonde hair was messy from the previous night’s sleep and now from running in the forest it was tangled, torn, and had pieces of leaves, seeds, and twigs interlaced between the strands. Her face had lacerations all along the cheeks and along her forehead. Blood slowly trickled out from each scrape and dripped down her face. The few cuts on her upper arms were almost invisible due to the coating of mud and dirt that covered them. The only piece of clothing that she wore, a light blue nightgown, had become soaked from the morning dew and had turned a dark blue mixed with a brownish color from the dirt. To a bystander she looked like a crazed woman taking a stroll through the forest at seven in the morning. Perhaps she was crazed.
She walked and walked through the forest for hours all the while heading straight, or what she thought was straight. She followed the sun as it rose. It was her compass. Harry had to be due east, he had to be. A few times she had tripped on one of those damn hairy vines and gone down face first into the mud of the forest floor, the wound on her leg filling up with more dirt and grime every time she fell. She had pulled herself back up covered in leaves and dirt. Her entire body ached and screamed to stop but she continued. He was close now.
A gigantic American Elm tree that towered over the surrounding trees stood before her. It had to have stood at least one-hundred feet tall. The trunk of the tree was so large and thick that a grown man could not wrap their arms around it. The canopy of the Elm prevented all sun from getting through. It had formed a circle of thick shade around its base and prevented any and all other trees or plants from growing near it. There at the base of the tree was Harry. He was rolled over on his side with the right side of his face buried in the dirt. A trickle of blood was coming out of his bottom lip. It rolled down the lip, moved down his chin, and ended in a pool of blood and mud under his chin. His right leg was bent at the knee in the wrong direction. It looked contorted and twisted, just looking at it nearly made Eleanor vomit again.
She walked closer to him. She didn’t want to say his name for fear of him not responding. Could he still be alive? Could he be ok? She knew it had to be impossible. He had been thrown hundreds of feet in the air, quite possibly right into this giant of an Elm tree. Leaves of the Elm dotted his body from head to toe. She was just a few feet away now and she dared to whisper his name, “Harry?” There was nothing, there was no movement or sign of life. She took a step closer and tried again, “Harry… Are you awake?” Her voice felt cracked and dry, it didn’t sound like her. Her throat ached for water. She watched Harry intently, but there was no sign of acknowledgement or movement. When she was less than step away she crouched down to get a better look at him. Besides the blood that had been coming out of his mouth he looked relatively ok.
There was no breathing of any kind and when she checked for a pulse there was nothing but the coldness of skin. Frustrated and panicked she started pounding on his chest and screaming, “Wake up! Wake up! Wake up god damn it!” His body began to turn in the dirt from the pounding and as it turned towards her the color from Eleanor’s face vanished and a scream came out like a spasm. The entire left side of Harry’s face was caved in. It looked like someone had taken a steamroller to that side of his face. The skull was sunken in and the skin had caved in around it. His left eye was gone. It had either receded into the remainder of his skull or it was lying around here in the mud. Eleanor fell on top of him and continued screaming and screaming. The screams could be heard from miles away.
3
That same day Eleanor awoke to find herself in a bed by herself. There were bandages all along both her arms and legs including one large bandage that spanned the length of her upper right thigh. It was already becoming soaked with blood and would need changed soon. She was no longer wearing her nightgown but now instead a uniform hospital gown. The room was drab and lifeless like most hospital rooms. The walls were white, the ceiling had the trademarked white drop ceiling tiles, and the floor was a white hard vinyl. The only color in the room was that of two flower decorated curtains that hung on each side of her window.
Outside the sun shone brightly but she could still tell that the day was coming to a close. It must be late afternoon. How much time had passed? Was it still the same day? There was a clock on the wall that said it was 4:38 in the afternoon. How long had she been out?
She tried to get up from the hospital by swinging her l
egs over the side. When she attempted to stand her right thigh gave out with no warning and she fell forward into the cold vinyl of the hospital floor. Why? Why were these damn hospital floors so cold? She laid there on her belly against the floor not attempting to get up. What did it matter? Harry was gone, her life was gone. What did anything matter? A few seconds later the door to her room burst open with a rather short and rotund nurse that had brown hair and thin glasses. As she entered the room her smile turned into a worried frown.
Nurse Ada (That’s what her nametag said, she did not introduce herself) ran over to Eleanor and picked her up at the shoulders with little effort. As she sat Eleanor back in the bed she was alarmed by the lack of expression on her face. Eleanor seemed to be staring right past her. Her eyes were open but she did not blank. Did she know where she was? Ada had heard that they had picked her up in the middle of the forest, that her husband had died, and that she was wearing only a nightgown. Was she in shock? What could have happened? Were they out hiking and something had gone wrong? If so, who in the right mind hikes in their pajamas? It wasn’t Ada’s job to ask questions but there was no harm in letting the imagination wander. Hell, that was how half of them stayed sane. Eleanor’s legs were hanging off the side of the bed and as Ada gently picked them up and slid them back on the bed she seemed to snap out of whatever trance that she was in.
Close Your Eyes: A Horror Story Collection Page 25