One, two, three, four.. Ah, who cares. I lost count a while back. Strong shit, too. I’m sitting here at the local pub of a lowly city, washing down my sadness with the comfort of my friend Jack Daniel. There are a bunch of others here, too, despite the time of night. Friends celebrating, losers trying to get lucky, non drinkers hanging out around the billiards table. Me? I fucked up big time, and I’m forcing my shame onto my liver. Not the best way to deal with problems, but hey, it works. My name is Kyle. I’ve just gotten the call that my application to play one of the leading roles in a movie, which is going to be a big hit might I add, has been declined.
Yeah, I’m an actor. Or at least I was going to be. I took an acting class for three years, and I was suggested by my instructor to try applying at a nearby studio. I was so confident that I’d make it that I quit my previous job ahead of time. Except that I didn’t get the job. Rent’s due this weekend and I don’t have enough time to find another job. So here I am.
Thinking I’ve had enough for the night, I started to stand and felt immense dizzinesss wash over my senses. Probably had one too many, I thought, as I started to stagger out of the bar.
“Hey! You didn’t pay for that last round.”
I turned to face the bartender and replied, “Put it on my tab, Mike. I’ll get it to you Monday.”
He rolled his eyes, and went back to serving the other losers like me.
I stumbled out into the chilly fall air, and took a deep breath. This city was quite empty for being so crowded. This wasn’t one of those small towns where everybody knew one another. Chances are that if you saw someone once, you wouldn’t meet them again. Yet the streets were very rarely packed, let alone catching people walking on the sidewalk or taking the bus. I shrugged and turned to head home. Walking was kind of difficult, it makes me glad that I didn’t drive out here. I didn’t really expect to see anyone, like usual, however there was someone walking on the opposite side of the street.
This fella was out awful late, I thought, as I checked my phone for the time. Two in the morning. I shrugged it off and continued to my destination. To each their own, I suppose. He’s smart for wearing a hooded coat, it’s fucking freezing out here. I walked at a steady pace, not really giving anything a second glance. However something didn’t seem right. I glanced over to my left, to the other side of the street.
That person that I saw earlier seemed to be headed in the same direction as me. Huh, weird, I thought. He was walking in the opposite direction that I was going earlier. Maybe he forgot something at his house. I kept going, turning a corner onto my home’s street. I glanced back and noticed that the man was no longer there.
“Strange,” I whispered. “Maybe I’ve had too much to drink tonight.” As I walked along the street, my eyes felt like they were playing tricks on me. You know how when you’re paranoid you see movement in your peripheral vision? I kept seeing dark images darting around to my left and right, but every time I turned my head to look directly at them, they were just dark alleys. I just want to get home and sleep this off, I told myself. I rolled around through my thoughts, and got that feeling of being watched again.
I glanced around, but saw nothing. I sighed, and silently promised myself not to drink this much again. This is giving me the creeps. I knew I wouldn’t live up to it, though. Suddenly, I heard a sound that made every hair on my body stand on end. A low, dark laugh wavered out from one of the dark alleyways. I stopped dead in my tracks, swinging my head wildly to find the source of the cackle. Doing so, though, reminded me of my trip to the bar earlier and nearly made me vomit.
I bent over and breathed hard, trying to gather my bearings. I looked up and called out, “Hey! Who ever’s out there.. just fuck off, alright?!” The only response I got was the howl of the wind, so I warily continued walking. I came upon my apartment building shortly after. I walked up the stairs and headed to my apartment. I reached for my keys, grabbed them from my coat pocket, inserted the one to my door and started to turn the knob when I noticed it.
That same man in the hood that I saw earlier could be seen in the reflection of the glass pane above the door. This time, however, he was walking across the street. Directly towards my building. He was standing under a lone streetlamp that occasionally flickered, peering up at me, and for a brief second I caught a glimpse of his face. From what I could make out at a distance, he had no pupils. It was just a blank white color. His mouth was contorted into a strange smile, moving in rhythm as if he were giggling. I swung the door open, slammed it closed and locked the bolt. I closed the blinds to the window, locking it in the process. I sat in my chair with the lights off, and waited. I got up, walked to the window and slowly pressed down on one of the blinds and peered out. He was standing right in front of the door.
I jumped back and ran into my bed room. I slammed the door, locked it, and headed to my bed. I kept a box containing a glock under my bed frame. I removed it and loaded it. I knelt on the opposite side of my bed, gun pointed at the door, and prepared myself. I waiting for what seemed like hours without hearing a single sound other than my heavy breathing. I began to doze off, but jolted awake when my head touched the mattress. I walked over to the door, unlocked it, and opened it just a crack so I could see through. No one was here. I kept my glock at ready and walked out into the rest of my apartment, heading towards the door. I peered through the eye hole but saw nothing. I decided that since I kept everything locked that whoever it was would be unable to get in, so I decided that I should go to bed. I went back to my room and put my glock on the nightstand next to my bed, and laid down. I quickly fell asleep due to fatigue.
I awoke the next morning to banging on my apartment door. Oh god, my head was on fire.. I sluggishly got to my feet, and walked out of my room to the door. I peered through the hole carefully, and saw that a few police officers stood outside. “Just one minute,” I called and rushed to put my glock away. I went back to the door, unbolted the lock and tried to wake myself up with a slap before opening greet them.
“Good morning officer, what can I do for you?” I asked without trying to sound like someone who hasn’t had a good rest in weeks.
“Mornin’, son. I’m officer Randy Goodman, chief of Silent Hill Police Department. We’d like to ask you a few questions in regards to the room next to yours. Where were you last night at around the time of two forty?”
I swallowed hard, and told them that I had gone out for a bit and came home exhausted, and went straight to bed. He turned to exchange glances with the other officers that accompanied him before turning back to me. “I see. Mind if we take a quick look around your apartment?”
I shook my head. “Go ahead.”
The officer I had been talking to nodded, and walked in, accompanied by another. Two officers stood outside, as if to keep an eye on me. If they suspected me of something, they could have just told me, I thought. The other two officers returned a few minutes later. The chief took out a note pad and began scribbling notes, recording that they didn’t find much, I assume.
“Everything seems to be in order. Sorry for disturbing you, have a nice day.” He started to gead towards the staircase to the next floor when I stopped him.
“Hold on a second. What happened in the apartment next to mine? Why did you need to search here?”
The chief officer looked a little distraught, and his eyes darted around aimlessly. He cleared his throat and said, “Look, son. There’s been a, ah, a murder next door. Reports say that local residents heard screaming very early in the morning, presumably from a woman. We found the body of Susan Smith inside her bedroom. The details are too violent for me to describe.”
My eyes widened as I instantly thought of that man from the previous night.
“I suggest you take extreme caution and security measures until the perp is caught,” he continued.
I started to get really nervous and blurted, “Excuse me,” I started. “But did Ms. Smith happen to keep her door locked?”
The officer shook his head, a slight look of sorrow playing across his facial features. “Unfortunately, no. If she had, she may still be here today. We found no evidence of blunt weapons being used, meaning the murderer might not have been able to get in if the door was locked.”
I lowered my gaze to the floor. Did he attack her because he couldn’t get me? A wave of guilt suddenly washed over me, but I returned my attention to Randy. “I-I see..”
He let out a sigh, and asked, “Is there anything else that you can tell me? Every detail helps.”
I felt like I was going to vomit from the sheer pressure that was placed on me. “Y-yeah.. I saw a man here last night. I was pretty, uh, tired last night, but I could have sworn he followed me home. He wore blue jeans and a hooded sweater. Most of his head was covered, but from what I could make out..”
I didn’t know how I could tell them the most crucial detail about this damnable being, there was no way they would believe me.
“Go ahead, son” the chief pushed.
I tried again, and just ended up blurting it out. “The man had no pupils. Not at all. He didn’t even have irisis. The route I took home had very little lightning due to only several streetlamps being placed on curbs, but I’m telling you that this is true.”
Randy just looked at me, whether it was disbelief or something else was beyond me. He slowly looked to his other officers, who exchanged the same looks with him and even to me. I knew they wouldn’t believe such a stupid tale. Randy cleared his throat, and scribbled on his notepad. “All right. We’ll keep an eye out for the suspect. We’re going to search the rest of the complex.” He reached into his shirt pocket and pulled out a card, which he handed to me. “This number is directed straight to me. Call me immediately if you find anything else.” I nodded, and he motioned for his squad to follow him. “Have a good one, and be safe.” They continued down the hall, knocking on the next door as I went back inside.
I closed the door and locked it again. I sighed deeply, and went to the kitchen to grab some breakfast. It was already after noon, but what can you do? I grabbed a bowl from the shelf and headed to the fridge. I grabbed the half empty milk jug, and brought it with me as I got some cereal. ‘Man.. What a fucked up way to start the morning,’ I thought, as I finished fixing my bowl. I put both the jug and box away, and went upstairs to my room. Upon entering the doorway, I sat down on my bed and grabbed the T.V. remote and turned on the T.V. I wondered how long it would take for the news of the murder to reach the station as I flicked through different channels to find something I would enjoy.
I ended up watching some stupid sitcom, only long enough to finish my breakfast. I placed my bowl on the nightstand next to my bed and went to my closet. I grabbed some clean clothes and headed to the bathroom, which was connected to my bedroom. I shut the door behind me, turned on the light, and placed my clothes down on the sink. Grabbing a towel from a nearby rack, I opened my shower curtain to start the water.
Only I didn’t.
I stumbled back and dropped my towel, as I tripped and hit the wall behind me. There was a message in my bath tub. I shook my head is disbelief, and stood again, inching closer to check and make sure that what I saw was real. Oh, it was. It was very real. My eyes started to burn and water, as I read the message, written in a dark red, one last time:
“I hope I have as much fun with you as I did with her”
—
Credits to: Burning Brit
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