Close Your Eyes: A Horror Story Collection

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Close Your Eyes: A Horror Story Collection Page 27

by Alec John Johnson


  On the first night her new cat slept in a crumpled up blanket that was in the interior corner of her bedroom. Eleanor’s bed was pushed up against the opposite corner with its headboard against the exterior wall. As she began to drift off to sleep she found that for the first time since Harry was taken from her, that she felt a hint of happiness. The loneliness was beginning to consume her and this new cat filled a gap. It was only just a cat, but it was something. It was some kind of companion. It was something she could talk to.

  Knock Knock

  The knocking began just after midnight. It was similar to the other instances where there was the slightest knocking that came from the headboard behind her. As she opened her eyes she felt the usual paralysis that she felt every night. She waited patiently for it to reveal itself from her headboard. At first there was nothing but after a minute or two she began to see the head slowly come out from her headboard. It pushed out perpendicular to her. The arms came out of the headboard like two separate snakes but as it pushed out more and more she saw the arm’s attachment to the main body. The head hovered over her in a straight line. It seemed to move right to left scanning the entirety of the room. On the second scan the head suddenly stopped. The right arm of the apparition raised and seemed to point to the corner where her cat slept. Then without warning the head whipped around, bent, and was pushed up right against hers. She stared into the blackness of it and was reminded of a starless night sky. The head pulled back a bit more, tilted a bit, and then it pulled everything back instantaneously into the depths of her headboard. She knew what was coming next. She tried to yell for the cat to get out of the room. To get to the farthest edge of the house, but, as always, she was pinned to the bed with no control over her actions.

  KNOCK KNOCK

  On previous nights when there wasn’t a cat in the room Eleanor would hear the first lighter knocking noise. The thing would come out of its hiding spot, greet her, stare at her, and on some nights feel her. But, that was the extent of it. She hadn’t heard that thunderous knocking since her night in the hospital. Since the night Ada was killed. It had found her cat and it had found it fast.

  The ferocity of the knocking shook her bedroom like an earthquake tremor. A picture of her and Harry on their wedding day fell from the wall and landed face down on the floor. She could hear the glass in the picture frame shatter. The book she had been reading shifted from the nightstand and toppled to the floor. But, she was still glued to her bed.

  She knew it was coming, she knew it had to be coming. It was going to attack her cat, but even knowing that it was going to happen it still surprised her. The cat was sleeping in the corner of the room. Every few seconds it would make a slight moaning sound in its sleep. Suddenly, as if a light switch was turned off, the moaning stopped. All sound had ceased in the room. A high pitched squealing sound, like that of a panicked animal, rippled throughout the room. A strong breeze of wind blew across her face and then a streak of black flew past her. Something crashed just above her head against the top of her bed. Her eyes strained to see what had happened, but it was no use. Her body was still locked in place. A second after the crash the room went silent. The silence was deafening. There was no noise in the room, outside the room, anywhere. It was all encompassing silence. As she sat frozen in bed a constant drip of something was soaking the back of her head, neck, and shoulders.

  She wasn't sure how, but somehow Eleanor had fallen back to sleep. It was either due to exhaustion, or fear, she couldn't be sure. When she woke it was just past seven in the morning and a new day had begun. Eleanor sat up with alarming force from her bed and as she did her wet hair followed her. Blood sprayed, blotted, and sprinkled all over her covers and bed. Her neck and shoulders were soaked in a deep crimson. Half of her didn't want to turn towards the headboard to see the damage. She wanted to believe that if she just looked over to where the cat was sleeping last night she would see him fast asleep and perfectly safe. She knew better. It had come last night and she knew it.

  Her head turned slowly behind her to gaze upon its work. The headboard was a rather large darkish brown colored antique wood. There was a flowering vine carved in a half circle that started on the far left of the bed and ended on the far right. Just below the top of the crescent of the carving was her cat, or what was left of it. There wasn't much recognizable about the animal. It looked like it had been shot out a cannon and had impacted right against her headboard. Blood had sprayed out in all directions. Some of it was on her ceiling, some on her night table, even some at the foot of the bed. The cat hung on the headboard in a permanent suspension. It was thrown so hard into the board that parts of it had actually wedged into the wood. Eleanor couldn't help but think of those pictures you see after tornadoes where a tree was impaled by a two by four. A large pool of blood lay right beneath the poor cat. The blood had soaked her mattress, pillow, and her.

  She sat there in the mess of blood and thought. She thought about what to do next. It seemed like there was no escape. She was cursed to be alone. She was cursed to live the rest of her life alone. Her only company would be it. There was no escape. She laid back down in her wet bed and began to cry.

  --

  It was just after four in the afternoon and Eleanor sat at her kitchen table holding a foreclosure notice in her hand. There was a big red stamp in the top right corner of the document that said; ‘Second Notice.’ There were no pens, paper, or stamps near her. She was just holding the letter and staring at it. Tears draped her cheeks. She knew it was hopeless.

  Not too long after Harry had died, Eleanor obtained a small life insurance policy. She had spent three months fighting with the insurance company since Harry had died of ‘unusual circumstances,’ but she eventually won. The money allowed her to hold on to their house for a few years but Eleanor was never the best with money. Just after two years had passed she found that she was going to lose the house. She just couldn’t keep up with the payments, let alone the upkeep and repairs.

  As she sat, pondering what to do next, a knock came on her front door. After a moment’s hesitation she stood up and walked towards the front door. The door opened slowly and Harry’s older brother, Dale, greeted her from the other side. He was a tall man standing over six feet and he was wearing a full suit with a bright red tie. Over the last year or so it seemed that whenever Eleanor saw him he was wearing some kind of suit or tie. He had always been good with business and it seemed with each passing year he was obtaining more and more wealth. His black hair was combed backwards against his head expertly and looked to be gelled or greased with some kind of pomade. A big smile was stretched across his thin face that if she didn't know him would have been unsettling.

  “Hello Dale. Come on in” Eleanor said as politely as she could. She didn’t want to deal with this right now. The company was always nice, especially nowadays… but she had bigger things on her mind, like how to keep her house. She didn’t want to sit there and listen to Dale drone on for hours on end. He was the kind of man who loved to hear himself talk, a natural born salesmen. Dale walked in and they sat down together in her living room. Without knowing it, Dale sat down in Harry’s usual recliner. Harry looked a lot like him. She could see it when she looked into his eyes. He even pronounced some of his words just like Harry did. Internally, she cried.

  They sat and talked for fifteen minutes or so catching up on this and that. There was never much for Eleanor to provide in their conversations as she was more a shut-in nowadays thanks to it. Dale did most of the talking. On most visits Eleanor would politely nod and smile while listening to Dale. However, during their conversation today something had caught Eleanor’s attention. Before Harry had died, Dale had been moderately successful. He ran a small real estate company in Carolsburg as well as a few other side projects. His A-type personality had rewarded him. Today he mentioned that he was building a new apartment complex near downtown Carolsburg. The plan was for ten buildings that would hold five tenants each. The project was due to be com
pleted in just a few months.

  Eleanor hated asking for favors, let alone leveraging Harry’s family… but she felt that she was trapped. She was going to lose her house and she had no place to go. After Dale took a breath and stopped talking, which was about five minutes after the mention of the apartment complex, Eleanor mentioned it again. She asked him exactly where it would be located, what kind of amenities, and most importantly what the rent would be. His eyebrows went up a bit on the mention of rent.

  “Are you looking to move?”

  Hating herself for doing this, she got up from the living room without a word and walked over to the kitchen table. A moment later she was back with the foreclosure notice in her hand. She held it out prominently in front of her so that he would see it. There would be no hiding it. If she tried to hide it now, he would ask.

  She reached the living room again and put the notice down on the coffee table right in front of him. He leaned down, glanced at it, and then picked it up for further examination. After an eternity of silence he looked up at her and said, “What can I do to help?”

  Shame washed over her, but she ignored it. This was no time for feeling sorry for herself. “I’ve only got a few months left here before the bank comes in.” She paused for a moment and then continued. “How much did you say those apartments you were building are per month?”

  Dale’s eyes brightened and a big smile formed on his face. “One-hundred a month.”

  Eleanor looked at him in disbelief. “That can’t be right. What are you charging your tenants?”

  He stood from his chair, walked over to her, and sat down next to her. The closeness felt good. “It doesn’t matter what I’m charging my tenants. You're family.”

  She tried to say ‘Thank you,’ but nothing came out. She leaned against his shoulder and began to weep. A few minutes later they were working out the details of her new home. Towards the end of the negotiations she thought of an additional requirement.

  “Can I have a corner unit? I like my privacy… the fewer neighbors the better.”

  Without flinching, he said “Sure!” He pulled out a briefcase and plopped it down on the coffee table. A moment later he had it opened and out came a large colored layout of the complex. Eleanor picked out the building that looked the most inviting, and safest.

  One last thought went through her mind before they settled on the deal, “Can I rent the connecting apartment as well?”

  He looked at her strangely, “Sure… what are you going to use it for? Storage?”

  She didn’t want a chance of anyone being close to her at night. If she was going to live in an apartment complex then she was going to be damned sure she didn’t have a next door neighbor. It was too risky. “Yes, I’ll use it for storage if that’s alright with you. There are just so many things and memories here that I’d like to keep,” she said with a genuine smile.

  5

  It had been forty years since she moved into Shaded Meadows. Eleanor was now the age of seventy-two. It had been over forty years since it had attached itself to her. Forty years of complete loneliness. She had never remarried. She rarely even left her apartment. It was all just too risky. What if it struck again? Her only constant company was it. It’s knocking rang throughout the whole apartment at night and even occasionally during the daytime Eleanor would hear distant knocking. It hung over her like a poisonous cloud.

  She was proud to say that over that entire forty years she was only responsible for Harry and Ada’s death. There were no other human casualties. There were a few close calls where Dale had overstayed his welcome but she was always able to shoo him out before the night came.

  Eleanor had tried different animals over the years, but it all ended the same. It somehow always knew. Its range only seemed to extend ten feet in a circular fashion in all directions. Where she moved, it moved. A few years after the first cat incident she thought she would try it again. This time she shut and locked her bedroom door and was always sure to sleep in her bed that was pushed against the exterior wall. She was as far from the cat as she possibly could be. It had worked. The cat survived the first night, the next night, and even many weeks. Having someone’s company, even if it wasn’t a person, was wonderful. A constant companion that was by her side throughout the days.

  Three months was how long the cat lasted. It was seven thirty at night and Eleanor was sitting in a recliner in her living room reading a book with the television on in the background. She had slipped up. She should had known better. She awoke to find that she had fallen asleep in her living room recliner. The television was still on, and there was a knocking sound coming from behind it. She was frozen in place yet again. Her cat was asleep on her lap. Before she knew it the cat was gone. The apparition did not show itself this time but her cat was levitated in her lap. Then, without warning, it flew across the room and into her television set. The cat screamed, the television sparked, and then the room went quiet yet again.

  --

  Up until early this year Dale was a regular visitor to her apartment. Over the years Eleanor had begun to enjoy his visits. He still loved to talk but Eleanor didn’t mind. Her loneliness drove her mad and the only reprieve that she had was Dale. These talks and stories from Dale allowed her to live vicariously through him. Hear about his adventures, his family, his son, and his daughter. He would visit every Wednesday morning at eleven in the morning and stay to about noon. She would have lunch premade and ready for them. This tradition went on for nearly as long as she had lived in Shaded Meadows.

  Eleanor loved Dale, although she would never show it. She couldn’t show it, if she showed her true feelings and if Dale reciprocated then what? What could they possibly do? Move in together? She knew how that would end. So, she stayed quiet. She kept her thoughts to herself. It was obvious that Dale felt feelings for her as well, but he had never acted either.

  About eight months ago on a Wednesday Dale did not show up for lunch. This had only happened once before, and it turned out he had been in a car accident. Concerned, Eleanor called his home phone but there was no answer. Dale’s wife had died from breast cancer ten years back and both of his children were grown and on their own. It was just Dale living alone in his home. She waited until eleven thirty and tried again. The phone rang and rang. She was eventually greeted with an answering machine, but she ended up not leaving a message.

  The clock struck four in the afternoon and still Eleanor had heard nothing. Something was wrong, she could feel it. She left her apartment and drove over to Dale’s house which was only a few miles away down one of Carolsburg’s oldest streets. When she turned onto Elm Street the street went from a smooth asphalt pavement to a rough and ancient brick pathway. The car vibrated back and forth as she slowly drove down the red brick road. Rest assured, it was not a yellow brick road. The houses on each side of the street were all old Victorians ranging from the late 1800s to the mid-1940s. Each one was more beautiful than the next. Halfway down Elm Street on the left hand side stood a house that had to have been built during the Civil War Reconstruction period. The house was a light blue color mixed with splotches of red and pink here and there. The windows were tall and narrow but were covered in white curtains removing any outsider's view. There was a small spire on the left side of the house and just past the spire stood two very large chimneys.

  She parked her car and walked the stone pathway up to the front porch. As she walked she noticed Dale’s car was parked in the driveway to the left of the home. Something wasn’t right. She could feel it in her bones. There were just a few steps to ascend to the porch which she was able to climb with relative ease. To the right of her the porch extended and a small wooden table with a few chairs stood empty. Directly in front of her were two double doors that were a newly painted white color. The door knobs were old and faded but had an intricate metal design. Dale had given her a key to his house nearly fifteen years ago and had told her to come over anytime she wished. She had only taken him up on his offer one time,
and even that was a short visit in the middle of the day. It was too risky, even in daytime. What if something happened to Dale? She was terrified that something would go wrong. That somehow it would get to him.

  Eleanor pulled out her key chain and easily found the key to Dale’s front door. She always thought it was a comical key and had teased Dale about it when he gave her a copy. It looked like an ancient skeleton key. It was a long metal tube that had one point jutting out of it at the end. At the top of the key there was a small metal circle where it fitted on the key ring. The whole thing weighed at least a pound. She inserted the key into the right door, turned, and pushed. There was a clicking sound and then the door pushed open without any resistance.

  When she stepped into the room she was taken aback at the beauty of Dale’s house. It may have been over one-hundred years old but the way the house was kept and maintained you couldn’t tell. The entryway was a small narrow hallway that went all the way to the end of the house. To the immediate left of her the hallway opened up to the living room. There was a leather couch, a loveseat, and a recliner all of them turned towards the center of the room facing a large black coffee table. There was an incessant ticking that emanated from the living room. Eleanor peered into the room to see a large wooden clock hanging on the far wall next to a stone fireplace. The pendulum of the clock swung back and forth. Further down the hallway were more adjoining rooms. There was an opening just past the living room which Eleanor could only assume was the kitchen. Dotted down the right side of the hallway were smaller doors that looked to be closets or other storage areas. There was a beautiful staircase to her right that hugged the exterior wall and wound upwards to the second story. The wooden stairs had a dark stained look to them.

 

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