My name is Nathan, and I’m here for some help and advice. I haven’t left my house in nearly a week, and I’m at risk of losing my job and possibly my life. Most of you will discount what I’m about to say, and, to be honest, so would I, well that was before last week. Truth is often stranger than fiction, and in this case, it certainly is. This is some messed-up story time! So, please, listen to what I’m about to tell you, and if someone out there has any answers, reach out to me before it’s too late.
Last Friday, I joined some colleagues for a quiz night at a local bar. Honestly, we did more shots than we got correct answers. At 10:30 pm, I decided to leave. I wasn’t drunk, just slightly tipsy. I didn’t live far, so I started to wander back home. Around 5 minutes into my 10-minute journey, it started to rain. There had been a storm forecast, but it hit earlier than expected. I held my jacket over me while seeking a shortcut through an alleyway up ahead.
As I was about to go through, my pace slowed as I realized someone had crossed the road further down the street. It was an older woman, possibly in her late 40s or 50s. She seemed as eager as me to get home, running down the road in my direction. She then began to cry out, her voice echoing in the rainy night, while her head glanced back over her shoulder. It looked as though she was being chased, but I couldn’t see anyone behind her.
Should I help her or hide? I thought to myself, but the small possibility of danger entered my mind. I cautiously slipped into the alley, peeking slowly around the corner. I noticed in the illuminated rays of the streetlights, a dark silhouette, carved into the rain. The looming figure was moving in on her. I closed my eyes briefly, my breath caught in my throat, while the rhythmic sound of raindrops sounded out around me. I quickly reopened my eyes just as the woman toppled and crashed to the waterlogged ground below, with a shriek and a splattering thud.
Time seemed to slow, as the thin layer of water leading up to the helpless woman, began dancing upwards, in a pulsing rhythm. The flickering water drew closer, as she attempted to scramble to her feet. Then the splashing footsteps stopped. She moved her head from side to side, trying to locate the stalking predator. But, nothing. Just an eerie silence filled the empty street. Only the blanket noise of raindrops could be heard.
She stumbled forward, legs trembling, now stood underneath one of the streetlights. The glowing beam exposed her bloodied face. The figure reappeared out of nothing, like a light-absorbing vortex, distorted by the rain. It was stood right behind her. A dripping blade made from water began to form at the end of a shadowy arm. She must have sensed it, by the way her body jerked quickly around, now face to face with that thing.
The watery blade plunged deep into her gasping mouth.
Her horrific screams turned into a gargle in an instant. Her eyes widened as she looked straight at me, the life draining from her now limp body. The woman then dropped to the glistening concrete in a heap, as water settled around her. I turned, my right foot slipped as I tried to sprint off through the narrow stone-enclosed alleyway. I had no idea what that thing was or how it killed that poor woman, but I wasn’t going to hang around to find out.
I didn’t stop running till I reached my front door. I dipped my hand frantically into my left jeans pocket, pulled out my set of keys. They fumbled in my hand as I concentrated on finding the right key. Why I had all of these keys on there, when I only know what half of them are for, I really don’t know! Once I had found the right one, the next challenge was trying to get my arm to stop shaking so I could get in. I forced the key in, unlocked it, and burst through the door. I slammed it so hard behind me the surrounding wall trembled.
I was stood, hunched over, hands on my knees and head down. My breath deep and quivering as my eyes watered in fear. I felt sick in that moment, like I had just been punched in the stomach. After five minutes, I had started to regain some normal breathing again, enough to lift myself up and walk to the living room. I sat , exhausted on the chair, just as a bang came from the wall. It was obviously my neighbour, probably moving something around, but I jumped out of my skin regardless. For the rest of the night, I had all of the lights on, and TV on full volume. I couldn’t sleep.
The image of that woman, losing her life, right in front of me, was playing on repeat in my mind. I must have finally managed to fall asleep around 4 or 5 am. I woke up in a confused state, positioned awkwardly on my sofa. The sunlight streamed through a gap in my blinds, hitting half of my face. Eyes squinted, I looked for the TV remote. It must have turned itself off overnight. Once I had found it, I switched it on. A banner ran across the bottom of the news channel on the screen. It read, “Woman found dead in street of small town.” I have not disclosed the town in question out of respect for the woman’s family. I pulled out my phone to search on the internet for the article. The information was vague at the moment, but a quick search on social media gave me more details.
As the weekend went on, the story settled into a probable cause of death. The woman had passed out and landed face-first into a large puddle, where she unfortunately drowned. Only I knew what really happened. I couldn’t go to the police. Who would have believed me? If anything, I would have been classed as a suspect. Sunday evening had set in, and I looked curiously at the week’s weather forecast. It seemed that Friday’s downpour was just the start; a great storm was supposed to hit tomorrow and last the full week. I had convinced myself that I couldn’t have seen that figure in the rain. It was probably me hallucinating in my tipsy state, but seeing that forecast made me feel anxious and dread the morning.
I tossed and turned until I eventually drifted off to sleep. My night was long and full of nightmares. I must have woken up 7 - 8 times gasping for air, covered in my own sweat.
Morning finally came, and as I was getting ready for work, raindrops cascaded down my bedroom window. I opened my front door to leave around 7 am; the sun was only just starting to rise in the miserable dawn twilight. I put my jacket hood over my head and hurried to the car, the wind whipping mists of rain into my face. I took a deep breath to compose myself before setting off. I drove the 10-minute journey to the office, the wind and rain battering my windscreen. I felt relieved when I pulled into the office car park.
I got out of the car and pulled the hood back over my head. As I walked towards the glass door of the office, I heard a small splash behind me. Naturally, I thought it was a colleague, but I couldn’t see around my hood. I turned my body round to look, but the car park was empty; I couldn’t see anyone in their cars either. I continued walking towards the door, and the splattering started again. It was like someone walking behind, following me; it was clear these were footsteps.
I walked faster, into a jog, as the splashes mirrored my pace. I finally reached the building, and I got through the door just in time. The glass behind me was cloaked in a wave of water, that dripped into a small puddle below. My day at work was probably the quickest I had experienced in my life, time appeared to fast forward. 5 o’clock came, a nervous lump formed at the back of my throat. I walked outside with a few of my coworkers, luckily the rain had stopped. As I headed back home, there was nothing out of the ordinary. I even started to feel calm.
I got back home, put the TV on, and stuck some pasta in the microwave. Later that evening, while I drifted off to sleep, I started to hear running water from my kitchen. I leapt up and tentatively walked towards the kitchen doorway. Every step into the darkness felt like a descent into the unknown. I felt for the switch and flicked it on; water flowed into my sink, of its own accord. I rushed over to turn it off, all of my senses now heightened. I turned back towards the door and crept to the bottom of my staircase, paranoia was now clearly getting the better of me.
I peered up, seeing if anyone was up there, and I called up, “He…hello? Is someone up there?” Of course, nothing answered me. I knew, deep down, I was alone in the house. Maybe my lack of sleep was catching up with me, I thought. I turned the TV and lights off, then headed upstairs to go to sleep. I brushed my teeth and began to get into bed. The wind rattled the half a dozen trees outside my bedroom window, as rain began to patter on the glass. Just the sound of rain was causing me anxiety, so I put on my headphones and listened to music to try to mask the ongoing storm.
I lay, eyes wide, my brain on overload, thinking about every tiny detail of the last few days. I cursed to myself, as I remembered that I hadn’t locked the front door. I went down the stairs and double-locked it. Just as I turned to walk back to bed, a crash of water hit the door. Small water droplets began to run down the inside of the doorframe. I sprinted upstairs, pulled open my curtains to look out onto the street below. I expected to see flooding or a water mains leak, but nothing. It was barely even raining at this point. I really thought I was losing the plot!
I shuffled back to my bedroom when I heard my shower running in the en-suite. Panic set in; my heart rate grew faster and my breath deeper. As steam seeped out of the cracks between the frame and the door, I put my quivering hand on the handle. I slowly pushed it down and pulled the door towards me. The hinges creaked, as I was hit by a warm mist, coming from the darkness. I pulled on the light cord; the bright spotlights lit the room. Through the steam, I could see a figure, stood in the shower cubicle. A chill ran through my body; I froze in shock. I physically couldn’t move. I used all of my strength to approach the cubicle and yank the door open.
No one was there, well not that I could see. I slowly backed away, as within the cascades of water, a silhouette began to emerge. The faint sounds of water droplets hitting an unseen body splattered towards me. Its water-lined arm started to raise, as liquid rushed towards the end of it. I picked up a glass and threw it at the evil entity, trying to get it to leave. The glass shattered on the tiled wall behind, sending shards flying throughout the shower.
I had to get out of there; I ran out the door, closed it behind me, and pushed my drawer unit in front. I burst out of my room and down the stairs, my hurried feet slipping as I went down. As I got into the kitchen, the water began to flow from the tap again. I flung open the cupboard underneath and twisted the water shut-off valve. A gurgling noise proceeded as the water above me started to reduce into a slow drip.
I sat trying to regain my breath on the cold tiled floor; I didn’t see any way out of this for me. I couldn’t and still can’t make sense of what was stalking me, this ominous man-like figure using water as a weapon. After what seemed like hours, I got myself off the floor and sat in my living room. I can’t lie, dark thoughts ran through my messed-up head, how I wasn’t going to let that thing take me out. Even if I had to take myself out of this dire situation.
Morning came sooner than I thought; I had been sat up all night. My head racked with fear, I didn’t dare go back upstairs. I called in sick for work, as I just couldn’t move knowing the rain was still battering down outside. Every so often I would hear a large splash of water on one of my windows. First, it would be the living room one; then the kitchen window was drenched in a wave of water. About 11 o’clock, I decided I was going to go upstairs; I nervously walked up each step. I was anticipating the worst from what I had experienced the night before.
I pushed the bedroom door open, holding my breath, trying to listen for any slight noise. As I neared the en-suite bathroom, I could see that the drawer unit was pushed out at an angle, and the door was now open. This was the same door I had slammed shut and blocked 12 hours prior. Goosebumps suddenly covered my body, as my heart frantically lashed at my rib cage. My breath was forced out in short bursts, as I prepared myself to enter the bathroom. One large exhale later, I burst the door open. It was empty; the shower was still wet, and the shards of glass still covered the bottom. As I looked down at the tiled floor, five, large watery footprints led towards the door. The hairs on the back of my neck began to stand on end, as I slowly looked around. The curtains were soaked in water, and the window was ajar; it looked like it had made it out of the house. I fell to the bed in relief, hoping this was the last I would see of it.
I have since only been out once in the last four days, to get food and stock up on small bottles of water. I have still not had the courage to turn the water back on; I have no plans to do so until I get some answers. The storms keep passing through, and I venture outside between the downpours.
I constantly feel like I’m being watched, and the pipes have been making strange noises ever since that awful night.
I am now desperate for some suggestions or solutions to all of this.
I don’t know how long I can put up with it all; I just hope somebody will take this seriously.
I hope to update you all soon, wish me luck.
Comments