Horror Stories: 51 Sleepless Nights
Page 31
I saw the woman again the next day. It was only a glimpse, but she was sitting at the bus-stop I usually took. I'd left her cards at home and didn't want a confrontation about it, so I just waited the 20 minutes for the next bus to come along.
There she was again at the taco shack I frequent for lunch. She was actually working behind the counter. She smiled when we locked eyes, but I immediately turned around and left without a word. The less I got involved in this lunacy, the better.
Then again at the grocery store. She was deliberating between brands of peanut butter. Again at the bus-stop, watching me get on. Twice more I saw her standing on different street corners on the drive home. I don't know how she was moving so quickly, but it was obvious that I was being stalked. I was being stupid for just pretending none of this happened. I had information linking a string of deaths, and I should have brought this to the police from the very beginning.
I stopped off at home just long enough to grab the deck of cards off my dresser before heading down to the local station. It was getting late by now – around 8 PM – but the dreary march of street lamps still hadn’t begun to glow. I considered taking an UBER, but I didn't want to risk being trapped in a car with the woman. I just walked - trying my best not to imagine green eyes glinting in the mounting darkness around me.
I should have known it wouldn't be any good. She was the officer on duty, just sitting behind her desk with hands folded patiently on the table. Not doing anything. Just waiting for me.
"I've got your cards. You can have them back," I said. I dropped the stack on her desk. She didn't take her eyes off me, not even when they scattered from impact. I half-turned to leave, but couldn't quite force myself to turn my back on her.
"I know you did something to the others," I spluttered to fill the gaping silence. "And I don't care, okay? About Peter or any of them. I don't want anything to do with it."
She didn't blink. Didn't move a muscle. I started backing up, almost making it to the door before she finally said:
"I'm following you for a reason, Eddy. If you walk out that door, then you will never see me again."
I hesitated. Was that a promise, or a threat?
"Okay. I'm okay with that," I said.
"Are you? Even knowing that my face will be the last thing you see before you die?"
It sounded more like a school teacher reminding me of a formula than it did a threat. That didn't stop the hairs from rising on my skin as she stood from the desk to approach me.
"How are you everywhere that I am?” I asked.
"What's more likely..." She was only a foot away now. My back was against the glass door, but every word was drawing her closer. "That I'm everywhere at the same time, or that you're stuck in one place and I'm there with you?"
“Why are you doing this to me? Why are you killing all these people?”
“I don’t kill anyone,” she said. “I simply warn them what is to come. I give them comfort in their dying moments. Those who go violently into their final sleep are doomed to nightmares, while those I help go softly can sleep in peace. I have seen the future, and know that my face is the last thing you will ever see.”
The air between us was intoxicating. I couldn't break away.
"The last time I see you..." I managed. "It doesn't have to be today. It can be next year – or fifty years from now."
"I have a job to do. How do you expect to find me again in fifty years?" she asked, a bemused smile playing about her lips.
"That's easy," I replied. "I'll just never let you go."
Despite all her tricks, I was stronger than her. I locked my hands behind her waist and drew her into me. I wasn't ready to die, but even more than that, I wasn’t ready to die alone. She seemed intrigued at first when I pressed my mouth onto hers, but then she started struggling. I held on even tighter, afraid that she would simply vanish the moment she slipped free.
She couldn't love me. No-one could love me for long. Even if I somehow captured her fancy, I knew someone like her could only ever get bored with someone like me. Sooner or later she would leave me, and that would be the last time I ever saw her. That would be the day I die.
She was fighting now. I could feel thrashing against me like a caged animal. All I could do was hold on tighter, dragging her from the building and into the darkness outside.
I crushed her against me with all my strength until my arms went numb and my fingers bled from where they clasped behind her back. Each breath she took was shallower than the last, until finally her pale skin was bleached as white as bone.
She wasn't lying about carrying a switchblade, but it was a lot harder than I imagined using that to separate her head from her body. I couldn’t work it through the spine, and was forced to simply peel back the skin of her face and take that with me instead.
Now her face rests on the pillow to my left each night I lay down to sleep. It’s the last thing I see before I close my eyes. And if death were chance to steal me before I wake, then I know I will go in peace without the burden of dreams to follow.
Each morning I rise on the right and turn away from it. All through the day I walk with surety, knowing I will not die before seeing her again. I know one night I will look upon her and it will be my time to go, but even then, I know I won’t be alone.
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About the Author
Former Neuroscience researcher, born again horror writer. During my studies, it struck me as odd that I could learn so much about why humans behave without understanding the intricacies of human nature. It occurred to me I learned more about the depths of human experience from reading Dostoyevsky than I ever had from my text books, and I was inspired to write.
After several years of writing scripts in Los Angeles, I have returned my focus to my own projects and novels. Keep an eye out for the upcoming release of the “Demon Seeds” series, as well as the third volume in the “Last Man” trilogy coming Summer of 2017.
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-Tobias
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Wade, Tobias, Horror Stories: 51 Sleepless Nights