by Jon Athan
Kristy said, “It's strange being in a new home. It's strange only waking up to Michelle.”
Hilary responded, “You'll feel a little lonely, but...”
“No, it's not that. It's actually the opposite. I don't feel lonely. I can live with Michelle, we can live happily ever after, but it feels like there's something else. I can't explain it, but it feels like there's something else here. I feel like it followed...”
Hilary sighed, then advised, “Don't over-think it, Kristy. I can't pretend to know what you're feeling, but it's probably some sort of... some sort of symptom of grief, I suppose. Grief and depression are tricky. If you feel like something's wrong, you can always call me.”
Kristy smiled as she scanned through the eggshell white walls surrounding her. A sense of security and confidence swept through her timid body. The pesky shadows lingering in her mind were suddenly whisked away – the poisonous pessimism was siphoned from her body and bottled in a flask for the next victim.
Kristy said, “Thank you for everything, Hilary. I'll never be able to repay you for always being there for me.” She glanced at her phone's clock – 9:38 PM. She continued, “I think it's time for me to go to bed. I'll talk to you later.”
Hilary responded, “Okay. Have a good night, sweetie. Talk to you later.”
The friends disconnected from the call. Kristy absently gazed at the coffee table as she placed the phone on her lap. Her mind wandered between thoughts, trying to evade the negativity while seeking comfort.
Suddenly, a child's soft and tender giggle echoed through the apartment – a gleeful cackle brimming with unusual exuberance. Kristy slowly staggered to her feet as she furrowed her brow and stared down the vacant hallway. She could barely see the first door – the bathroom door. The hallway was swallowed by an impenetrable darkness. The melancholic shadows gradually oozed towards the living room.
As her bottom lip quivered, Kristy asked, “Michelle, are you awake? Sweetie, is that you?”
There was no response. The apartment was drenched in an uncanny silence. The floorboards did not creak, the pipes did not flush, the wind did not whoosh – the home was dead silent. Kristy swallowed the lump in her throat as she gazed into the darkness, like if she were waiting to be swallowed by the shadows – waiting to be eaten by the sinister uncertainty.
As her eyes swelled with tears, Kristy whispered, “Nick?”
Abruptly, the floorboards in the dingy hallway croaked and howled. The thudding footsteps amplified with each dreadful step. Kristy wheezed as she staggered in reverse, tottering back towards the living room windows.
As she emerged from the darkness with a stuffed bear clenched near her chest, Michelle Baker asked in a dubious tone, “Nick? Daddy?”
Kristy sighed in relief as she held one hand to her mouth and the other to her chest. She was flabbergasted by Michelle's sudden appearance. Tears streamed down her flushed cheeks as she examined her innocent daughter.
Eight-year-old Michelle stood four-two with a diffident demeanor. She donned a pink cotton nightgown down to her ankles. She wiggled her unclad toes as she watched her mother with inquisitive eyes – sapphire blue eyes sparkling like the ocean on a clear summer day. Like her mother, Michelle's blonde hair, like a sandy shore, rested on her shoulders.
Kristy shook her head as she fought off her tears and responded, “No, sweetie, not daddy. He's gone now, remember? He won't be back...” As Michelle sadly stared down to her feet, Kristy knelt down in front of her and said, “I've never seen this little bear before. Where did you get him?”
Michelle caressed the bear's head like if she were stroking the hair on a poodle, then said, “It was a gift.”
“From who?”
Michelle looked towards the gloomy shadows in the hall. She sniffled, then turned towards her mother and said, “I can't tell you. It's a secret.”
Kristy smiled as she straightened her daughter's nightgown and said, “I see. I don't like secrets, sweetie, but I'll let you keep this one for now. Just let me clean it tomorrow morning, okay?”
“Okay,” Michelle whispered. She gazed back into the darkness and asked, “Mommy, can I sleep with you?”
Kristy softly dug her fingers into Michelle's silky hair and responded, “I'm sorry, sweetie, you're too old for that. You're a big girl, you have to sleep in your own bed.” As she saw the reluctance in Michelle's eyes, Kristy reassured, “I've checked the entire apartment for monsters. We're safe here. I promise. Go on. Go to bed, sweetheart.”
Kristy stood and watched as Michelle trudged into the dark hallway. She smiled as she heard the squeal of the bedroom door and the scurrying footsteps. She couldn't help but chuckle as she heard the groaning of the bed frame – Michelle obviously leaped onto her mattress to avoid the monsters under the bed.
Kristy whispered, “Good night. I love you.”
***
Kristy kicked and wriggled beneath the black bed sheets. Her back ached, her neck twinged, and her brain throbbed. Her slim body was drenched in sweat. She wheezed and groaned as she struggled to breathe. Her veins bulged on her skin, she could feel her blood boiling within. Like if she were sleeping atop a broiling grill, Kristy struggled to find comfort.
As her head swayed on the drenched pillow, Kristy murmured, “I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. Why can't you forgive me? Just leave me alone. Leave me alone.”
Abruptly, a sharp creaking sound danced through the dark room – the bedroom door hinges grated. A heavy thud immediately followed. Kristy's eyes widened as the sound shattered her fragile psyche. She was locked in place like a deer caught in the headlights. She panted as she slowly turned over on the mattress, then peered towards the double-door entrance. The doors were wide open. Kristy could see the living room couch and television. The apartment was vacant.
Kristy sniffled and swiped at the sweat on her forehead, then asked, “Hello? Is someone there?” There was no response – only silence dominated the room. As she turned back towards the parallel wall and tossed the comforter away from her body, Kristy whispered, “It was the wind... It was only the wind. Don't over-think it.”
With her head sinking into the comfy pillow, Kristy searched for sleep. She scavenged every crevice of her brain, searching for the elusive slumber she sought. Yet, sleep always evaded her grasps, slipping through the slits in her clenched hands like water.
“Just sleep, damn it...” Kristy muttered.
Before she could utter another word, Kristy felt the mattress sinking behind her. The frame groaned, like if someone had climbed into bed with her. The unusual heat she felt blistering within was suddenly whisked away, replaced with a frigid, inhuman cold. The sudden shift in temperature was daunting. Kristy's bottom lip quivered as she tried to rationalize the event.
She whispered, “It's... It's a draft.” The temperature continued to plummet as the mattress shuffled with the weight. Tears trickled from Kristy's eyes with every blink as she said in a dubious tone, “It... It must be a dream?”
As she whimpered, Kristy felt a warm hand on her hip. She could feel the thin fingers wrapped around her hips as they glided towards her waist, then stopped. The warmth conjured from the hand was inexplicably familiar, like something she had felt before.
Kristy smiled and said, “Michelle, you almost scared me to death, sweetie. I told you to sleep in your own room tonight. I guess you...”
Suddenly, Kristy shuddered as the warm hand slid down her hips, then tightly gripped her buttocks. The strange hand groped her haunches. Another hand slid across her drenched body, then fondled her breasts. Kristy gasped as she gazed down at her chest. She could feel the spindly fingers, but she could not see a hand in the darkness. Before she could shriek, the savage force violently pinned her face to the pillow, clutching the nape of her neck with an unwavering energy. Kristy squirmed and kicked, but to no avail – the mighty intruder was too powerful.
In a muffled voice, Kristy helplessly shouted, “Don't! Please! Let me... Let me go!”
Kristy swung every limb and writhed on the mattress as she tried to escape the intruder's grip. She gritted her teeth and sobbed as she felt her sweatpants being pulled from her legs. She could feel the breeze caressing her unclad thighs. As a light illuminated the room, the ferocious grip vanished.
With tears spurting from her eyes like a garden sprinkler, Kristy surged up from the bed and turned towards the bedroom entrance. She shouted, “Let me go, you damn bastard!”
Kristy was utterly shocked to find her daughter standing at the doorway – one foot in the bedroom, one foot in the living room. Michelle's finger rested on the light switch next to the door, her other hand tightly gripped her stuffed bear. She softly trembled as she examined her distraught mother. She couldn't comprehend Kristy's verbal assault or disheveled appearance.
“What's wrong, mommy?” Michelle asked in a mellow tone.
Kristy couldn't help but sob as her ears were blessed with Michelle's mellifluous voice. She felt elated by the mere sight of her innocent daughter. Michelle brought order to her life – she vanished demons with her presence.
Kristy bit her bottom lip, then said, “I'm sorry. It was only a nightmare, sweetie. It was only a nightmare...”
Michelle stared at the mattress with a furrowed brow – an ocular examination for any viable threat. The plain room was empty. Only Kristy sat on the mattress towards the center of the bedroom. Kristy wiped the tears from her crimson cheeks as she tried to compose herself – as she tried to play the part of a secure mother.
Michelle asked, “Are you sure? I... I heard screaming. A lot of screaming.”
Kristy nodded and said, “Of course, it was a very bad nightmare. I should have checked under my bed for monsters, too. They're gone now. You... You saved me, sweetie. Thank you.”
Kristy raised her brow as she gazed into Michelle's eyes. Michelle stared at her mother's lower-body. Kristy nervously laughed as she glanced down at her lap. Her thighs were still unveiled from the bizarre attack. She smiled towards her daughter as she lifted her sweatpants.
Kristy explained, “It's a little hot in this room, sweetie. Everything's okay. I promise.” As she organized her clothing, Kristy patted the mattress beside her and asked, “You want to sleep with me tonight?”
Michelle's face glowed as she ecstatically asked, “Really?”
“Sure. We can even sleep with the lights on. Come on.”
Michelle scampered towards the bed, then leaped towards her mother. The pair embraced on the mattress. As her daughter slowly dozed out of consciousness, Kristy nuzzled her hair and gently rubbed her shoulder. She kept her eyes locked on the opened doorway, peering into the ominous darkness.
Kristy whispered, “Leave me alone...”
***
Kristy crept down the hall, her shoulders high and her soles off the hardwood floor. A soft, muffled voice seeped through the cracks on the bedroom door – a sentence, a pause, then another sentence. Kristy stopped in front of the bedroom, then planted her rosy ear on the door. She protruded her bottom lip and furrowed her brow as she listened.
The soft voice said, “I don't want to. I don't want to go. No...” The voice paused for 15 seconds, then continued, “No, I want to stay with mommy. I want to...”
The door hinges howled like a wolf to the moon as Kristy barged into the bedroom. The hardwood wall groaned and the door rattled from the collision. Kristy gazed at her daughter with wide eyes. Michelle stared back and examined her mother from the closet door on the wall to the right – the swaying door with blinds built into the barrier.
Kristy was clearly overwrought and stressed. Her tousled hair was tied in a ponytail, strands protruded every which way. Her gray shirt was stained and her gray sweat pants were rumpled – laundry had not been a priority during the stressful week. Her eyelids were burdened with sleep. She had black circles beneath her eyes.
Kristy asked, “Who were you talking to?”
Michelle slowly shook her head, then glanced down at her torso. Her pink nightgown was wrinkled and the hair on her shoulders was wild. Yet, she appeared to be in a better mental state than her mother. She couldn't help but bite her tongue for the moment.
Kristy said, “I heard you talking to someone. Is someone in here? Are you hiding something?”
Michelle stood in silence as she gripped her stuffed bear and stared down at her bare toes. Kristy marched into the room, then tumbled to her knees. She tossed the pink bed sheets aside and checked under the bed – nothing. She staggered to her feet, wheezing from the exhaustion, then proceeded to the closet. To her utter disappointment, the closet was barren – only Michelle's clothing and stacks of shoe boxes awaited within.
Kristy knelt down in front of her daughter, then sternly demanded, “Tell me who you were talking to. Tell me.” Michelle sniveled and shook her head. Kristy tightly gripped her wrists and scowled as she shouted, “Tell me! Tell me who...”
Abruptly, Kristy's scolding was interrupted by the thudding on the front door. The persistent knocking echoed into the somber bedroom. Kristy gazed into her daughter's fearful eyes, piercing into a reflection of her own bottled fear. She stood, then strolled towards the front door.
“Hello, I'm Roy Williamson. Nice to meet you. I'm sure my niece has told you about the arrangements. Obviously, I wouldn't be here if she didn't,” Roy Williamson said as he stood at the doorway.
Roy Williamson cackled as he placed his hand on his protruding belly. His wire-framed glasses bounced on his pudgy nose and his elephantine ears swayed. His thinning gray hair shifted away from the bald spot at the top of his dome. His stiff short-sleeve checkered shirt rippled with the movement of his guffaw. Only the tight khaki trousers sitting above his ankles and his brown polished dress shoes remained firmly in place.
Kristy sniffled and nodded, then responded, “Yes, of course. Hilary told me all about you. Please, come in.”
Roy strolled into the home with a grin from ear-to-ear plastered on his face. He sauntered down the hall and stopped at the first door. He frowned upon spotting Michelle in her perturbed state. He shook his head and continued into the living room.
Roy pointed forward as he glanced over his shoulder and asked, “Should I sit anywhere?”
Kristy nodded and said, “Yes, please make yourself comfortable.” She turned towards Michelle and said, “Come here. I'm sorry about all of that, sweetie. It's been very stressful for mommy. Everything will be fine soon, I promise.”
The floorboards groaned from Michelle's plodding steps as she reluctantly followed her mother into the living room. Kristy furrowed her brow as she sat on the center seat of the three-seat sofa. Michelle sat to her mother's left.
Kristy asked, “Aren't you going to sit down?”
Standing in front of the television, Roy said, “I've decided it would be best for me to stand.” He placed his hands on his hips and glanced at the remaining seat, then explained, “You see, I'm afraid that seat might be taken.”
Kristy's eyes glowed as she nervously smiled. She said, “I... I knew it. I knew there was...”
Roy interrupted, “Now, allow me to inform you on something before we get down to business. I am a parapsychologist. I study paranormal experiences. You should know, I am mostly self-taught, so take what I say with a grain of salt. I am not responsible...”
Kristy shut her eyes and shook her head as she said, “I don't care about that. I understand. I trust you. Tell me what you know or what you... what you feel. Tell me what's happening in my apartment.”
Roy sucked his lips, then asked, “Well, why don't you tell me? What's been going on?”
“Well, it may be hard to believe, but this has been happening for a long time. I... I think it was even in my last home. I hear knocking, I hear walking, I hear breathing, I hear talking... Only recently did it get more aggressive. Something attacked me, Mr. Williamson. It grabbed me at night a week ago and I haven't been able to sleep since. I don't know what it is, but I need you to help me. Please.”
<
br /> Roy nodded as he placed his index finger to his thin lips. He squinted as he gazed at the ground, dissecting the situation with a scalpel of thoughts. He glanced around the room, then stopped at Michelle. His eyes glimmered like if he had found the missing piece to a puzzle.
Roy said, “The answer is usually hidden right in front of us. So, have you asked your daughter?”
Kristy shook her head and responded, “No, no, this has nothing to do with her. This... this thing is only attacking me. It doesn't want her, it wants me.”
Roy turned towards Michelle and asked, “Do you know the man in the house?” Kristy tilted her head and raised her brow as Michelle nodded. Roy asked, “Who is he? What does he want with your mother?”
As she fiddled with her stuffed animal, Michelle responded, “He doesn't want mommy, he wants me.”
Roy leaned forward and asked, “Who? Who wants you?”
Michelle loudly swallowed, then responded, “Daddy. He wants me to go away with him. He gave me Mr. Teddy and...”
“This is nonsense,” Kristy said as she held her hand to her crimson nose. “He's dead and gone. He's not supposed to be here anymore. He shouldn't... He's gone.”
Hmm – Roy uttered the sound as he tapped his puckered lips with his finger. He gazed at Kristy, then said, “I don't think she's wrong. Something is keeping him, or this unknown spirit, restless. I don't know if he actually wants your daughter, but I can feel his presence in this apartment and within you. A very masculine and angry presence. But, my feelings aren't as significant to the science of parapsychology. There has to be more. So, tell me: how did he die?”
“He–he fell down... down the stairs...”
Suddenly, the trio simultaneously gasped as the front door violently rattled. The thunderous knocking unceasingly reverberated through the room, each mighty blow louder than the last. The door wobbled and groaned like if it would explode off the hinges in a matter of seconds.
Roy turned towards Kristy and sternly asked, “How did he die?”
Kristy stuttered, “I–I–I... He... He fell... He really fell down the stairs, I swear.”