by Alexie Aaron
In the old days it only took a parent crossing the threshold of her room to make the darker-than-darks go away. But as she grew older, they grew bolder. Gwen would chance the chastisement of interrupting her parents’ evening’s entertainment or much sought after sleep by crying out in fear. The mild debasement she received, being told that she was too old to be frightened of the dark, was worth it when she saw the black shadows flow quickly off the bed and head for the corners.
From the time she could hold a crayon in her hand, she tried in vain to explain what was happening to her with pictures. She would hand the drawings to her mother. These always brought on the conversation. Her mother would seek out the counsel of her father. The two of them would sit with their eyebrows knitted in confusion. Her mother would lay a comforting hand on her head before the two of them would leave her room. Once she tip-toed down the hall, following them and listened at their closed bedroom door. There she overheard a discussion of something called therapy. She wasn’t sure what therapy was. She remembered hearing her father say that going to church was therapy for the soul. Gwen didn’t care if she had to sit through a thousand consecutive Sunday school classes as long at the darker-than-darks went away.
Tonight felt different. The shadows in the corners seemed larger than normal, and there were more of them. The cracks in the old wainscoting appeared deeper and darker. She sensed their movement under her bed earlier than usual. What was different? What had riled up the demons tonight? What kind of abuse did they have in store for her now?
The wind of an approaching storm slapped the house with the viciousness of an insulted debutant. Gwen watched as the hall light dimmed, the electricity browning out. It surged briefly, sending the adult members of the household running to turn off computers, unplug expensive appliances, while her brother and sister complained about missing the ending to the television show they were all watching. Flashlights were located, candles and matches sought. They all knew the drill. It had happened before. The brownout foretold the coming of a blackout. Battery alarm clocks would be set, and the occupants of 1634 Hillside Drive would retire earlier than normal.
Gwen moved off of her bed quickly and ran to the door. She moved stealthily down the hall into her parents’ bedroom. She planned to plant herself in the middle of the king-sized bed and refuse to move until the storm passed and lights were restored. The lights flickered again. Com Ed was trying valiantly to keep the suburbs lit as the flow of electricity was hampered by blown transformers and downed lines.
Lightning lit the western sky. Gwen looked out of her parents’ window from her perch on the bed. She didn’t mind lightning and the roll of thunder after. Anything that brought light was good.
“Gwen?” her mother’s voice asked from down the hall, “Where are you?”
“In here, Mommy,” she called out.
Her tall, beautiful mother walked down the hall and into the room. “Is the storm scaring you?” she asked in a sympathetic voice.
“Yes,” Gwen lied.
“You know you’re getting too old to sleep with Mommy and Daddy.”
“Yes, but the storm…”
“How about I stay with you until the storm passes? This way Daddy can get some sleep. He has to go to work in the morning,” her mother suggested.
Gwen nodded, trying not to let her defeat show. It didn’t matter if her mother was in the room, tonight the darker-than-darks would still come.
She got out of bed and grabbed her mother’s hand. Together they left the master bedroom and headed down the hall to her little room tucked under the eaves.
The lights dimmed, surged and then went out. Gwen moaned. Her mother quickly turned on the flashlight she was holding and continued down the hall. She stopped at Gwen’s sister’s room and knocked, asking, “Lizzie, are you alright?”
“Fine, Mom,” Lizzie replied but didn’t open her door. Gwen heard hushed whispers indicating her older sister was on her cell phone with someone.
Lightning struck. Its flash lit up the hallway and the open door of Henry’s room. A dark lump blocked most of the threshold. An arm shot out and grabbed Gwen’s leg. She screamed and tried to climb up her mother to get away.
“Henry David Kowalski!” her mother admonished. “You nearly gave me and Gwen a heart attack.” She directed the flashlight’s beam on her errant son.
He was lying on the floor of his room just inside the door. “Aw, Mom, I was trying to scare Lizzie.” He flashed them a brilliant smile. The light from the storm twinkled off the eleven-year-old’s braces, making him seem angelic, quite the opposite of his true demeanor.
“No stunts tonight, mister,” she warned her son. “Your father has to get up early for a meeting downtown.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Henry said and retreated into his room and shut the door.
“Honestly,” her mother said, “You would think we were living in a circus.”
“I wish,” Gwen said smiling up at her mother.
Her mother tucked the flashlight into the waistband of her sweatpants and took both of Gwen’s hands in hers. “If this were a circus, then you would be,” she lifted her up as she spoke, “the lady on the flying trapeze!”
Gwen giggled as her mother gently swung her back and forth. From down the hall came the deep baritone voice of Gwen’s father, “Oh, she floats through the air, with the greatest of ease…”
“Gwen Kowalski, the girl on the flying trapeze,” her mother finished.
Her father walked up, grabbed her out of her mother’s hands and flew her into her room, continuing to make up words as they journied towards her bed. “And she lands here and will soon be fast asleep.”
Gwen smiled as her father tucked the covers around her. “Good night, my little flying girl.” He kissed the top of her head.
“Goodnight, Daddy.”
Lightning struck again, and Gwen was able to see his face. The scratchy beard and the warm brown eyes added comfort to his sleepy smile. As the thunder rolled, Gwen felt the bed give a bit under her mother’s weight.
“You leaving me for a circus star?” her father asked her mother.
“Yes, I’ve always been attracted to the limelight,” she said as she eased herself under the covers. “Just until Gwen falls asleep,” she said softly.
“Fine. I’ll find my way to my pillow by myself tonight.” He pulled the covers over the two of them and kissed his wife on the head.
“Be careful, Daddy, Henry’s in the scaring mood.”
“Oh, dear, not again. Do you think he watches too much TV?”
“Definitely,” Gwen’s mother answered.
“Well if he keeps this up, no more TV,” he said rather loudly.
The three of them heard a scurrying in the hall as Henry beat a hasty retreat back to his room.
“I think we have seen the last of the ghoul tonight,” Gwen’s father pointed out.
“Good,” her mother said.
“Good night, young ladies. No giggles will be tolerated this evening,” he said, walking out into the hall. They heard him walk down the hall and stop at Lizzie’s door and say, “Off the phone or the phone will be mine,” before he moved to the end of the hall and walked into the master suite.
Gwen hugged her mother and lay back and closed her eyes. She listened to the comforting sounds of her mother’s steady breathing and the rumble of the storm as it moved away from 1634 Hillside Drive.
Gwen was flying in her dream. She wore a spangled costume and flew beside her father who looked quite dashing in blue tights and a Chicago Bears football jersey. She heard distant music and saw her mother, sister and brother in the crowd below. They were clapping. She turned over and smiled, still caught up in the wondrous dream. Something moved on the bed. Gwen’s eyes shot open. She looked beside her and remembered that her mother was there. She closed her eyes again, trying to find her way back into the dream. Her covers were pulled down. “Maybe Mommy was hot,” she thought sleepily. The covers were drawn up again. She opened her
eyes. This wasn’t her mother, this was the antics of the darker-than-darks.
She opened her mouth to wake her mother when something pulled down her jaw and pushed her air out her nose as it entered her mouth. Something else pushed into her ears, and all she heard was the thump thump thump of the invader. She tried to move her hands to her face to pull the things out of her mouth and nose, but her hands where pressed down at her sides. She twisted and thrashed, trying in vain to release herself from their torture.
Julie Kowalski woke up to find her daughter in distress. She reached out to calm her, but something cold and slimy impeded her from reaching her daughter. Julie frantically searched for the flashlight. Her frantic fumbling caused the flashlight to roll off the nightstand and under the bed. Julie dropped to the floor and dove under the bed. She searched in the dark, breathing a sigh of relief when her fingers touched the cold steel of the flashlight’s handle. She reached for it and screamed as something moved across her arm. She turned it on and was surprised by how the darkness under there ate the beam of light. She rolled out from under the bed and got to her feet, the beam of light moving wildly as she swung it around to the bed and onto her daughter.
Gwen was convulsing on the bed. She looked as if she was having a fit of some kind. She wasn’t sure because she could hardly see her. Thick black shadows moved along the four-year-old’s face. Other shadows held her down on the bed. Julie noticed as the light hit them, the shadows twisted and curled before giving up their hold on the little girl. They moved out of Gwen’s mouth and nose. Some flowed out of her ears and moved along the quilt, joining with the others as they pooled together and moved off the bed.
Gwen coughed and started to cry. Julie let the light drop to the mattress as she crawled on the bed to reach her daughter. “Gwen, baby, talk to me.” She held her to her chest and prayed. “Gwen, please,” she pleaded.
“I’m okay, Mommy,” Gwen said between gasps of air.
“Thank god, thank god,” Julie said.
“The light, Mommy, shine the light,” Gwen pleaded.
Julie picked up the light and moved it along the bed. They were back. The shadows moved just outside the beam of light. There were too many of them to count. They rolled back as the light hit them, but they also advanced as the beam moved on. Julie could see she was in a lose-lose situation. “Richard!” Julie screamed. “Richard! Help us!”
Richard Kowalski heard his name and awoke. He pulled himself out of sleep and reached for his wife. She wasn’t there. Memories of the night flooded in, and he remembered she was with Gwen.
“Richard! Help us!” he heard his wife scream. He moved quickly out of bed, picked up the baseball bat, he kept behind the door for burglars, and ran down the dark hall. He charged into the room. Before him illuminated in a circling beam of light were his wife and Gwen. Around them were dozens of black masses of differing sizes. They lapped at the bed like waves upon the shore.
“Light, get light!” his wife commanded. “They can’t stand the light!”
Richard turned to leave the room but found his feet wouldn’t move. The floor seemed to have transformed into a riptide pulling him downwards. He struggled to move his legs through the thick shadows. With every movement he lost a lot of energy. It was as if the more he moved, the more the darkness leached the energy out of his body. He reached out for the door jamb and pulled himself forward.
Henry flushed the toilet and was heading back to his room when he heard his mother call for his father. He pulled back into the bathroom as he father ran by with a baseball bat raised. He was almost in his room when he heard his mother say, “They can’t stand light.” Henry moved to his desk and picked up several battery powered LED light disks and ran to Gwen’s room.
He found his father gripping the edges of the doorframe, his body suspended off the ground in darkness. He was fighting whatever held him, but he looked very pale and exhausted. Gwen was screaming, and his mother was busy moving her flashlight around them, crying, “Go away, go away!”
Henry turned on his mega lights and tossed them into the room and watched as night became day. He watched as the darkness sizzled before it disappeared. No longer suspended in the dark air, his father hit the floor hard. His mother pulled Gwen from the bed and rushed to his side.
“Keep the lights on,” she instructed. “Gwen, stand by your brother,” she ordered as she pried Gwen’s fingers from her leg. “Richard, are you alright?”
“What the hell was that?” Richard said, not editing his language, he was too tired. “What in heaven’s name just happened here?”
“Monsters,” Gwen answered. “Monsters tried to eat you, Daddy.”
Henry looked at his sister and refrained from saying, “Liar.” He wasn’t sure what he saw. There were no such things as monsters. All he saw was dark.
“Kids, let’s get out of this room. Go to mommy’s and daddy’s room,” Julie instructed. “Bring the lights. Don’t let the lights go out,” she told Henry. She managed to get Richard to his feet. They moved slowly down the hall. They stopped at Lizzie’s room and Julie opened the door. Inside, Lizzie was sleeping soundly while music blared in her ears from the earbuds she had in them.
“Lizzie!” Julie called.
Lizzie stirred and opened her eyes. She pulled out an earbud and asked, “What?”
“Come help me get your dad to bed,” Julie ordered.
“Is he drunk?” Julie heard her daughter ask. She ignored her and repeated herself.
The teen got up and grabbed her father’s arm and put it over her shoulder. Between the two of them they got Richard into the suite and into bed. Henry had LED disks lit in every corner. The room was so bright that the five of them had to squint. Gwen, however, still held stubbornly to a flashlight and would not let go even when hours later the electricity was restored.
Alexie Aaron
After traveling the world, Alexie Aaron, a Midwestern native, returned to her roots where she's been haunting for years. She now lives in a village outside of Chicago with her husband and family.
Her popular Haunted Series was born from her memories of fleeting shapes rushing around doorways, an heirloom chair that rocked itself, cold feelings of mysterious dread, and warm feelings from the traces of loved ones long gone.
Alexie also writes the Cin Fin-Lathen Mysteries. These cozies set in England and south Florida combine action and intrigue with a liberal dose of humor.