He's Watching Me

by Wesley Thomas

  The door opened, and she slowly stepped out onto the soft carpet below. Muscles were stiff and some even cramping from the wardrobe's effective but uncomfortable hideaway. Awkwardly, Laura stood straight, mentally motivating herself onwards. She greedily gulped air like it was expanding her with a warrior-like heroism, to vanquish evil and save the helpless victim. But in this case, she was the helpless victim. Laura was a Zebra trying to sneak past a lion's den, avert any attention, and remain inconspicuous in her nightmare-like mission. Then a colourful gloved hand reached out from underneath the bed and her stomach dropped.

  This gave temporary pause as the fingers wriggled like a can of worms, but she persevered, determined to get out as quickly as possible, carrying on towards the door. He doesn't know I know, he doesn't know I know. She repeated, reminding herself with these affirmations. Laura was trying her best to appear nonchalant and leisurely. The door was almost within arm's reach, only one more step. Rain tapped at the window as Laura reached for the handle, dizzy and scared; when someone knocked from the other side of it.

  “Laura.”

  It was Toby. Relief cocooned her like a warm, silky blanket. She unlocked the door and flung it open. He wore creased blue pyjamas, looking happy and carefree, hair ruffled. If only he knew.

  “I couldn't sleep, I wondered if you wanted to watch a scary movie? Get in the Halloween spirit?” he suggested. This was the ideal excuse Laura was looking for.

  “Yes, let's head to the screening room then,” Laura stepped out in the hallway, when Toby looked confused.

  “Who is that clown under your bed?” Toby asked.

  Laura turned to see a clown's head peeping out from the pale sheets, laughing hysterically. The paint had formed deep lines and wrinkles, and the red smeared lips looked horrific, like he'd eaten a brain for supper. But the eyes were by far the scariest, covered in black paint, the eyes themselves full of rage, staring directly at Laura. But he was also smiling. The contrast between angry eyes and mischievous grin was a terrifying combination.

  “RUN!” Laura screeched, pushing Toby down the hall.

  They sprinted to the stairwell, hearts pounding and minds reeling, disorientation smeared on the poor boy's face, whilst Laura was simply horrified.

  “Run upstairs Toby, take me to the panic room,” Laura ordered, panting loudly.

  He looked temporarily befuddled at her knowledge of the panic room, then reverted back to being petrified, moving his little body as fast as humanly possible. Laura had forbid herself to look back, choosing to remain ignorant as to the clown's location, and if he was chasing them. An abundance of heavy breathing echoed in the stairwell, but it wasn't clear as to whose the respiring belonged too. Laura's, Toby's, or the clown's.

  They circled the staircase, whizzing by floor after floor, woozy and discombobulated, until they reached the top. The level which Laura had originally labelled an attic. Their feet were stomping on the steps, each becoming lethargic, energy dwindling, clumsiness a potentially fatal hazard. The frenzied rush made both of them nauseous. They came to the partially carpeted floor with a door before them. A thick metal block that did not blend with the interior of the castle whatsoever. It resembled a bank vault. Toby ran ahead and input several digits on a small keypad, then the metal sheet slid aside after a ding rang out. Toby instantly hauled Laura inside.

  He paced to another keypad on the inside and poked more digits. But there was an awful low buzz this time. The keypad flashed red. This can't be good. Laura became anxious.

  “What's wrong?” Laura inquired.

  “I can't remember the code for the inside, the one to close the door once you're in,” Toby's eyes were wide with panic. Laura shared this emotion.

  “Think Toby, just relax and think, is it a birthday, place, something sentimental?” Laura nudged.

  “I am trying to think,” Toby looked ready to burst into tears at drawing a major, possibly life threatening blank. Then they both jerked to see the clown ascending the staircase in front of them.

  “Hello children,” he whispered.

  They were more afraid to discover he was equipped with a broken candlestick, one end jagged and incredibly sharp. Perfect for stabbing.

  “Toby please hurry, think,” Laura tried to fight the overwhelming odds of her approaching failure, and demise. Toby entered code after code but the low base drumming continued like a whooping siren blaring, continuing to sustain an aura of anxiousness. Toby thought desperately, forehead creasing in fearful concentration. But now the clown stood at the top of the stairs, laughing at the child's attempts. This didn't help the boy's focus. Until a ping broke through the utter tumult. Then the silver saviour began to slide backwards. A knight in shining metallic armour attempting to guard the two young victims. But this didn't stop the clown rushing at them, smiling. Oh my God, what if he ends up locked in here with us?! Laura struggled to breathe, lungs barely functioning, heart aching.

  The metal barrier only had a few inches to go until complete protection, but the clown was gaining on them. Just when the two thought they were out of the woods, the clown launched the candlestick as a last ditch effort to hurt one of them. It careened onwards, tumbling over and over in mid air. It snook through the tiniest gap and hit Toby hard in the shoulder, sharp section first. He flew backwards and released a deafening shriek as it pierced his flesh. Toby thrashed against the floor as the door closed. But the clown knew with Toby now in an unstable condition, it wouldn't be long until they had to venture outside. To the candlestick-wielding arms of the blood hungry killer.

  A wave of grief swept over the young boy as he shrieked in agony, weeping a stream of tears. Laura rushed to his rescue, although she wasn't sure what to do. The candlestick protruded from his shoulder, at least two inches deep. Does she pull it out? Or let it stay in there until the police come? Questions seemed to accompany them in the panic room.

  “The first aid box,” Toby muttered between sobs, full of agony.

  He pointed to the back corner of the room. It was all metallic, every inch of their current sanctum. The walls metal, floor titanium, ceiling silver. They were awash of essentials to survive in this room. A few beds pushed against walls, drawers, shelves with tinned food, a television, laptop, books, and a green first aid box. It reminded Laura of a high-tech, futuristic bomb shelter. Laura scrambled, grabbing it from one of the many shelving units.

  “I don't know what to do Toby,” she admitted, kneeling at Toby's side, feeling stupid.

  “You need to remove it and then get ready to clog up the bleeding,” Toby advised, breathing heavily and speaking so mature he reminded Laura of a doctor. Guess mum and dad have taught him the basics.

  “I don't know if I can,” Laura muttered.

  “You have to, or I will die, please,” he begged.

  “Maybe not, the police are on the way. I spoke to one on the phone, and a car is on its way.” Laura tried to lift his spirits from the gutter and bring them to at least ground level.

  “But it is doing more damage in me. internally, it is only a couple of inches in, but it could break a bone, and severe an artery or vein, if it hasn't already. It is so close to my neck, which isn't good. Why do you think vampires suck blood from your neck?”

  Creepy blood-sucking fiends were something Laura really didn't want to think about right now.

  “Okay, okay, I'll do it,” Laura promised, taking a deep inhale.

  She tried to find the same courage that had been used when leaving the wardrobe. She searched hard, heeding it out from within her, until she felt that same warmth and power that had possessed her only minutes ago. Laura wrapped her fingers around the candlestick firmly.

  “Wait!” he hollered.

  “You need to open the box and get everything we are gonna need first,” Toby instructed, eyelids fluttering, but forcing himself to stay lucid.

  Laura relinquished her hold and opened the first aid box, pulling out objects as per Toby's instructions. Plenty of bandages, alcohol
cleanser, and a safety pin. Soon enough there was a neat pile aside the first aid box, ready and waiting to be used.

  “Right, do it,” Toby ordered, biting his tongue and tensing in preparation for the impending pain.

  She admired his gallant attitude and felt awfully responsible for this whole thing. But there was all the time in the world to feel guilty, right now she needed to get a hold, both of herself and the candlestick. Her grip relocated itself on the stick as she took a deep breath and yanked it out. There was a moist squelch as Toby squealed through gritted teeth, clenching every tooth through painful whimpers. Heaps of blood, without hesitation, gushed from the wound. Globules of crimson fluid soiled clothing and stained flesh, spurting from the puncture energetically.

  “Quick, put some alcohol cleanser on a pad and rub the wound,” Toby told her.

  She obeyed. But from several movies she'd seen Laura could have sworn it was more important to clog the wound first. But then again her parents weren't wealthy doctors. She laid him down on the floor as the blood's flow eased off, giving her the opportune time to quickly clean the gash.

  “Now wrap the bandage around tightly, and use lots of it,” he advised, eyelids drooping and lips barely moving.

  Laura spun a bundle of white round and round. When she was finished it looked as though he was wearing an armband, ready to go for a swim. Then to add the finishing touch a safety pin clipped the padding together. A circle of red stained the bandage, but the hectic rush of blood had appeared to decrease considerably, platelets rushing to heal and clot the injury.

  “You did a great job,” Toby half heartedly smiled, energy draining.

  “Being told by someone much younger than me, but thanks,” she laughed, but was pleased with the job she had done. Laura just hoped it was enough.

  “Now we just have to wait for the police, and that shouldn't be much longer now. Hang in there,” Laura rubbed his head like a caring mother, flinching at how cold it was. Now all they had to do was wait.

  It was 00:30am on the digital clock in the panic room. The good news, Laura should be dead by now, but wasn't. But the bad news was that their hope was evaporating. So much so its existence will have disappeared all together very soon, leaving pessimism embedded into them.

  “Where are they?” Toby asked, resembling a ghost, bags puffing his bloodshot eyes and lids drooping like a decrepit old man.

  The whites of them marked with tiny red squiggles, adding to the look of exhaustion and lack of well-being. Laura ransacked her mind for an answer that would sustain the last reserves of prosperity that may dwell within him. Tell him that the traffic was bad? Yeah right, at this time the roads would be dead. Tell him that they were downstairs waiting to get in? No, unrealistic. So she was honest.

  “I don't know Toby, they should be here by now, I'm sure they are on their way though,” she stroked his arm gently.

  “Pass me the laptop, I think I just found a way out of here,” Toby abruptly informed, growing weaker and weaker with every word but determined regardless. Laura scoured the place, turning everything upside down and inside out, and found a large, but lightweight, portable computer on a shelving unit. Curiosity was building within her as to what could help them. The authorities had already been contacted and were on their way. What more could Toby do? He opened the laptop and it purred to life, just before a web of small squares appeared on-screen. Each flashed white, then colour spread throughout the screen of squares. It took a moment for Laura to make out what exactly the squares were. But the furniture looked familiar, and the layout of each.... It was rooms in the castle; it was the well disguised CCTV cameras!

  “How did you know this?” Laura was grateful, but suspicious.

  “Dad showed me years ago, I only just remembered. This is one of the places all cameras can be monitored. Obviously this isn't all of them, but you can scroll through to see all rooms that have surveillance.” Toby's eyes flickered as his head rolled onto the metal wall. Clunk.

  “Toby,” Laura panicked, gently cupping his cheek; it was still cold.

  “Oh God, Toby, come on, wake up,” Laura pleaded, chest tight and eyes watering.

  But his eyes were sealed shut. Laura found a shred of courage to carry on, placing a hand on his heart. Luckily it was still beating, albeit very gently. She ransacked the place for blankets, sifting through everything. She rifled through a set of large metal drawers in the far corner. The first few had books, stationery and tools. But stuffed in the bottom were tonnes of clothing, bed sheets and blankets.

  She brought them to Toby, dropping them on the floor beside him. Unsure of whether he should be moved onto a bed or not, she chose to gently nudge him to the closest wall. Laura propped him up and tore off one of his pyjama sleeves that was drenched in blood. Then one by one wrapped each around him, shaking whilst doing so, but persevering nonetheless. When done she had a plan to find a way out, by attaining the location of the clown and then working around that as to leave the house, undetected. But was that the wisest plan given Toby's condition? He was badly injured and would need to be carried. Further more, outside was dangerous. The cold rain and no help had arrived yet. Or maybe it had! The proverbial light bulb switched on, giving her the intelligence to search the surveillance and see if there was anyone outside. There must be, at least that is what she was counting on. Presto! There was a camera that must be fixed at the front of the main tower that they were at the top of. But there was nothing. No police car and no sign of any help. Laura's stomach dropped. A vacant slot of gravel and vast green land all around, but no help. This was a major blow to her positivity, winding her badly.

  Laura skimmed through the many cameras. Swipe after swipe showed the never-ending list of rooms. Each one empty. Until she stumbled upon one just outside the panic room. The clown was in front of the door, staring up at the camera, a creepy grin painted on his face.

  Laura was horrified. How does he know? He had no idea she was looking through that camera at that exact moment, given the hundreds plotted on the property. The blue furry wig sat atop his head, with white, red and blue paint coating his face. Laura was terrified, but a morbid fascination prevented her from looking away. The mash of rainbow colours was oddly mystifying. Until he lifted a piece of paper, as if he knew she was watching at that very moment. It took a second for her eyes to focus, but it read.

  'I KNOW YOU ARE WATCHING ME AND I AM GOING TO KILL YOU'.

  How the hell does he know that? Oh God help us!

  Chapter 7

  Laura's sense of security took a serious hit. How on earth was it possible he knew the exact moment she was looking? How did this man even know about the laptop that showed all surveillance footage? It was beyond frightening; it was totally baffling. Even worse, how could they escape with the psycho clown in their path? If he didn't move, they were trapped. Laura was circling in a pool of worries, doubts, and the uncertainty of her future. She sat choking on regret: thinking about her father, about the mistakes, the amends she wished she could make, the people she wanted to talk to, and apologize too. In what felt like the final moments, Laura was in a vice like grip, having life thrown in her face, a chocolate bar dangling just out of a child's reach. The things she will never again know: happiness, accomplishment, goals, fun, joy, even experiencing anger, and resolving conflict seemed more appealing than this nightmare. She'd never felt the touch of a man, that kind of touch that changes your identity, takes a person's virginity. So many parts of life yet to be explored, marriage, kids, finding a career, growing old. All the things taken for granted and assumed a right not a privilege. Some that people moan and complain about. All the while choosing to ignore just how fragile existence is. Everything could change in an eventful second. She was guilty of not appreciating the value of life, which would be confessed to God, if heaven was real. Out of her reflections a phone started to ring.

  She yelped like a dog, yanking it from her pocket. How had she forgotten about it?

  “Hello?” she cl
eared her throat.

  “Laura?” a voice asked.

  “Yes this is Laura, is that Officer Thompson?” she asked, endowed with a new hope.

  “Yes, one of our men is at the front door and has been knocking for a while now, he can't get in. Where are you? In the panic room?” he asked.

  “Yes, the clown is outside the door; I can't get out. And Toby has passed out as he was stabbed,” Laura looked at him and felt his chest again. Still breathing. Silver linings. But time was of the essence.

  “Oh God, okay, I will tell him to find a way in. If the clown moves get out of there, and close the door behind you to keep Toby safe,” he commanded.

  “Don't I need the code?” Laura asked.

  “Don't worry about it, I can engage the door mechanism remotely.”

  “But what if he dies?” Laura felt tears rushing to her eyes.

  “He won't, not if you keep monitoring that camera, and when he moves, run. Go to the front door, I will have one man waiting at the door, and another trying to get in another way.”

  “How did you know I can see him through the surveillance?” Laura became aware of his knowledge, which she wasn't sure she had shared with him, or maybe she was becoming delirious, paranoia being one of the side effects of pure fear.

  “Dr Anderson, he and I worked closely on the security of the castle, as I warned it would attract burglars who were very gifted and were in it for expensive items, and the owner of such a castle was clearly going to be very wealthy. So I know a lot about the ins of the castle. But I also assumed Toby would get the laptop out and monitor the cameras. He is a very smart kid that one. But it is kind of assumed when trapped in a panic room you will get to the surveillance,” he explained.

  It seemed plausible. But Laura couldn't deny that trust had been dented slightly. Amidst her thoughts her eyes wandered and fell on the monitor, noticing the vacant space in front of the panic room door. The cameras revealed the floor below in the bedrooms and hallways were also clear.