She called out for Dale, but there was no response. It was nearly four-thirty in the afternoon now. The living room was empty, that much she could say for sure. She walked down the hallway towards the kitchen entryway. When she arrived there was no one. The placed looked spotless. “Where is he?” Eleanor said aloud. The sound of her voice in the absolute quiet of the house echoed and lingered longer that it should of. A feeling of dread washed over her. Across the hall from the kitchen the dining room lay empty as well.
He had to be upstairs. There was no other place for him to be. As breathtaking as the stairs were a feeling of trepidation washed over her as she approached them. She forced herself to take the first step upwards. Then, she took another. She did everything she could to clear her mind. If she didn’t think about it then there was nothing to be afraid of. Her whole body ached as she climbed the stairs. Seventy-two year olds were not meant to climb a flight of stairs. She had no idea how Dale had done it every day and be eight years older than her! Halfway there now, the stairs were starting to become easier. Her mind was racing. Where was Dale? She tried calling out again but only the creaking of the stairs greeted her.
The top of the stairs were within reach. A small foyer greeted her as she lifted her last foot from the stairs and planted it soundly on the second story. As soon as her last foot left the stairs a sound greeted her.
Knock Knock
NO! Not now! Panic took her and she let out a scream. The scream hung in the air like a wet fog for a few seconds and then it was gone. The knocking was gone as well. She whipped her head left and right looking for any sign of it. There was nothing and she could still move. There was no paralysis and no apparition to greet her. She had forgotten it was still daylight. It had no power now. The knocking was just a friendly reminder that it was watching her, that it was still with her.
The top of the stairs foyer was a rather small circular room. There was an executive desk pushed against the balcony overlooking the stairs. A laptop computer rested on it in a closed position. There were four doors to the foyer that started on the left most side of the circle and ended on the right most side next to the stairs. The two closest doors were open and inviting. Eleanor stepped into the first open room that was right next to the stairs. An empty guest bed and a small dresser greeted her. Just above the guest bed was a narrow window that had a white transparent curtain pulled over it. The rays of the sun shone through and landed on the bed’s blankets.
She knew where Dale was. He was in the room with the closed door across the foyer. She didn’t know how, but she knew it. She had to go in there, but yet she couldn’t. The fear was too much. The fear of what she would find. Eleanor left the first room and then entered the open door room that was just to the right of her. It was more of the same. There was another guest bed and yet another dresser. It was empty yet again. The thought occurred to Eleanor that these must had been his children, Lori and Richard's, rooms when they were kids.
There were only two rooms left and still Eleanor found herself avoiding that last room on the left. The closed door hid secrets behind it and she was too terrified to look. She stood in center of the foyer underneath a hanging light fixture staring at the closed door debating on what to do next.
Fed up with it, and fed up with her fear she marched to the closed door, twisted the knob, and threw the door open. The sight that greeted her was surprising. The room looked very similar to the two past rooms she had just visited. It had the same square layout, a tall window was on the far side with the same transparent white curtain, and a large bed lay centered in the room against the exterior wall. This bed was not neatly made though. This bed was a mess of blankets and pillows.
She walked closer into the room not taking her eyes off of the bed. Dale was there in bed. The blankets were pulled over his legs and most of his torso. The dark blue bedspread had stopped at his hip while the lighter sheet was pulled up to chest level. To the untrained eye it looked like Dale was asleep, but Eleanor knew better. The color from Dale’s face was gone. There was no rise and fall from his chest. Eleanor walked to the edge of the bed and kneeled down to be eye level with Dale.
She remembered when they had met so many years ago, when her and Harry announced their engagement to his family. At the time Dale was just past thirty. He always had a somewhat awkward look to him but at the same time was able to convey a sense of power and intelligence. He stood right at six foot but never seemed to weigh more than one-hundred and seventy pounds. His thick jet black hair was always expertly combed backwards against his head. She had never seen him without his hair done perfectly and sporting a pair of slacks.
Now, over forty years later he was gone. He was seventy-nine years old. His once black hair had now turned a silvery gray, although the thickness of his hair had never left him. The gray hair was messy and unorganized from sleep. He still looked like Dale from forty years ago but now his cheeks were sunken with age and wrinkles splintered out from all different points. Eleanor reached her hand out to touch his face and when she did she recoiled. He was cold, he was dead cold.
As she kneeled there staring at Dale’s body a feeling of joy came over her. It wasn’t joy that she had lost her good friend, and possible lover, Dale. It was a joy that it had not taken him from her. Looking at Dale now he appeared to have died in his sleep. It was an envious death. She leaned further into the bed, hugged Dale, and began to cry. The cries were not for Dale but for her. Eleanor had lost her only contact. She had lost her only human contact. She now was completely alone.
--
Dale had a rather small funeral. Both Richard and Lori were there. Besides them it was a pastor, Eleanor, and a few other people that she had not met before. The ceremony had begun and ended before she knew it. Afterwards the small gatherings of people were ushered into a separate room to mingle and reminisce. After the ceremony Richard, Dale’s son, approached her and asked how she was. He knew that they were close.
Richard was a tall man standing a few inches taller than his father. Looking at Richard you could hardly tell that he was Dale’s son. Dale had a lanky build whereas Richard carried a lot of weight that was evenly distributed between muscle and fat. Instead of the longer kept black hair of Dale Richard wore a nearly shaved head. Richard was a sergeant in the Carolsburg Police Force and as they talked Eleanor couldn’t help but notice the pistol side arm that was holstered on his hip. Towards the end of the conversation Richard had asked her if he could start coming over on Wednesdays for lunch. She was taken aback for a moment but without a second more of hesitation she said that she would love to have him.
Dale’s will had left Eleanor with a bit of money to get her through the next few years. His beautiful Victorian home was left to his son Richard. The Shaded Meadows apartment complex was left to Lori his daughter on one condition: That Eleanor would have a lifelong apartment and could not be evicted for any reason. During the reading of the will she noticed Lori turn towards her with a glare. Eleanor wasn’t sure why, but Lori had always disliked her even since childhood. She was eternally grateful for Dale. Even after death he was looking out for her.
--
The next week, like clockwork, Richard showed up at her door at eleven. A part of her didn’t believe that he would come but there he was standing in her doorway. Over the years she had not spoken much to Richard. They had seen each other occasionally here and there and she had always sent birthday cards to him when he was younger. But, this, this was the first time they had really sat down and talked each other. He asked her about his father, what he was like outside of being a dad, what her and Dale had talked about, what they did. Richard and his sister, Lori, knew that she and Dale were close but they never knew exactly what went on between them.
The visits continued over the next few weeks and soon enough they became tradition. Richard was there, just like his father, every Wednesday at eleven. She couldn’t be sure if Dale had put him up to this, if Richard actually found her company enjoyable, or if Rich
ard was visiting to make sure Lori didn’t kick her out. Either way she was happy. She was happy to have some kind of human contact.
6
Her sickness started about a month after Dale’s death. It started with difficulty breathing. No matter how hard she tried she couldn’t get a deep breath. Right at the peak of a deep breath something inside her would close up and shut off. She would try again and still nothing. Over time her breathing became shallow and rapid. Only a few weeks later a slight cough and sore throat began to form early in the mornings. Usually a cup of coffee or tea would soothe the throat and ease the cough. But, as time went on the cough became more and more violent. The coughing became a wet deep cough that reverberated in her chest every time she had an episode. The sore throat now felt like it was on fire. On some days she would cough so forcibly that blood would end up in her hand.
Eleanor’s time was coming to an end and she knew it. Unfortunately, so did it. She knew that when she died it would still be there. It would hang around her apartment like a lightning cloud waiting to strike. She had to get out of the apartment. She had to get away from civilization and people. If she was going to die than let her die in the middle of nowhere where nobody would find her, there should be no chance of it taking hold of someone else.
Each day she grew weaker. She had a coughing episode the other day in her rocking chair that was so vicious and persisted for so long that she lost consciousness. When she awoke she was lying on the floor next to her rocker. There was a small pool of blood and saliva next to her mouth. As she began the slow process of getting back up from the floor a familiar sound greeted her.
Knock Knock
A wave of anger rushed over her. She would not let this happen to anyone else. Nobody deserved this. Nobody deserved this monster. Determined, she dressed herself as best she could, grabbed her keys, and walked out the door. She didn’t know where she would go but it had to be somewhere remote. It had to be somewhere where no one would find her. Even if they did find her it would have to be a place where no one would stay the night. Night is when it took hold. That is when it was most powerful.
Her apartment door was on the main side of the building. The sidewalk led the way straight out and then continued onto the larger main sidewalk that went throughout the complex. She closed her door and began the long walk down the sidewalk to her twenty-five year old Ford. Normally, walking in her apartment wasn’t a chore. Sure her bones ached and every once and awhile her hip would lock up but it was manageable. Now, just beginning to walk down the sidewalk her legs felt like they were on fire. The feeling had started on her right thigh just above her knee and with each step she took the pain splintered out in all directions going up to her groin and down past her knee. She was only three steps out her door and was now doubled over in pain. Tears rolled down her cheeks as she tried to keep walking forward.
She took one more step forward and as soon as she did the fire spread from her right leg over to her left. Eleanor moaned in pain and fell forward on her knees to the dark gray sidewalk skinning and bloodying her knees in the process. Through her cries of pain she heard the familiar sound against the outside of her apartment wall.
Knock Knock
Somehow it knew about her desire to leave and it wasn’t going to let her. It was making her stay, making her stay in an inhabited place. It had never had this much power before in the daytime but as she thought about it she realized it was doing everything in its power to stop her. If it had been nighttime it would have just lifted her up, opened her apartment door, and thrown her back inside. It was weakened now, but so was Eleanor. Her old body couldn’t take this agony. The pain was too much. She laid there on the sidewalk sobbing uncontrollably.
Once more she tried to crawl forward towards her car and as she did she felt the pain in her thighs amplify almost like a knob cranked all the way to the right. Her vision began to blur and gray. Her head began to swim with dizziness. It was hopeless. It was not going to let her leave. Regretfully, she turned back towards her apartment and started to crawl back on her hands and knees. With each movement closer to her apartment the pain subsided more and more. When she reached the door she was able to pull herself up to a standing position without much effort. It seemed that even her arthritis and hip pain were gone momentarily. It wanted her back in the apartment and it was rewarding her the closer she got. She contemplated turning around back towards the sidewalk and sprinting down the walkway as fast as she could towards her car. It sounded like a reasonable idea at first but as she thought about it the more she knew that it wouldn't work. What if she tripped, or was taken down to the ground outside for everyone to see her? She would end up in a hospital for her last days and she knew how that would turn out.
She opened the door to her apartment, walked in, and fell onto her back on her living room couch. Eleanor stared up at the ceiling of her apartment. Her legs were covered in dirt and blood had begun to stain her jeans right at the knee. She realized now that she was trapped. There was no escape for her. As she thought that another coughing fit took hold. She sat up suddenly and heaved the best she could. Every cough felt good. Her body told her she needed to cough and with each cough she put more and more effort into it. It felt like if she just coughed hard enough she would expel whatever it was in her lungs. After a minute of deep coughing Eleanor felt a piece of something come loose from within her, travel up her pipe, and forcibly come out of her mouth. It landed in her waiting hands. When she looked down her hands were covered in blood and there were pieces here and there of hard tissue. It wouldn’t be long now. A wave of dizziness washed over her and she fell back into the couch and drifted off to sleep.
--
Eleanor had slept so long that the day turned into night. She would have slept through the entirety of the night as well but she was awoken by a familiar sound.
Knock Knock
Her eyes shot open at once looking left to right. She knew better to even attempt to move. It was coming for another visit. Normally, when she slept on her bed it came through the back headboard but here on the couch there was nothing behind her but the armrest and open space. She waited and waited but nothing happened. The apartment was quiet again all she could hear was the tick tock of a clock against her far wall.
Then, without warning, it appeared at the top of the couch in the middle cushion. The couch was a dark leather and at first she hadn’t seen it. It’s black shape blended into the couch but as it emerged further and further she began to see it take shape. The head was pushing out straight above her couch and as it drifted over and past her stomach it slowly turned towards her. It reminded her of a snake suddenly changing direction. The arms were out now too and as it turned the arms lazily followed along.
Like many other nights its head was now pushed up against her forehead. If it had any eyes, she was sure that it didn’t, they would be staring eye to eye. One of the arms was dragging itself across her right calf. It was working its way up her body like a crawling spider. The other arm was also head level. It was touching her cheek over and over again similar to how you would pet a dog. Eleanor wanted to scream, wanted to get up, wanted to run but nothing happened. She felt like a hospital patient strapped to their bed. The crawling and petting continued for an unknown amount of time.
Suddenly, everything stopped. The arms were pulled back but the head lay perfectly still against her face.
KNOCK KNOCK
The sound shook the room. Eleanor felt the vibrations reverberate from the floor and travel up to the couch. There were sounds of crashes and bangs as random trinkets fell from their places on the tables and walls. Why? Why was it knocking so hard now? Was there someone here she didn’t know about? Was there someone in her apartment? Who was in danger? Her pace quickened and sweat begun to collect at her brow.
There was a moment of hesitation where nothing happened. The world seemed to stand still. The room was again quiet, even the clock had stopped ticking. (It may have been one of the objects that f
ell to the floor.)
The head of the creature pulled back a bit as if to get a full look at her and then the head swooped back to place against hers. The arms that were floating above her idly now sprang to life. Both of the arms merged together and formed a massive gigantic cylinder that was even larger than the head. At the end of this conjoined arm it split into two distinct shapes. It almost looked like a pair of pincers that you would see on a lobster. She stared in wonder at them wondering what was come to next.
Close Your Eyes: A Horror Story Collection Page 28