The Indie Collaboration Presents: Tales From Darker Places, Page 2

That night was unlike any other. The wind raced through the eves, and under the foundations. It seemed to rattle the walls. His dreams came disjointedly, full of violent and disturbing images. Even though he dreamed of obsidian deeds, what he did not see, the suggestions his subconscious mind made, disturbed him more.

  Insidiously the nightmares began painting his new love, Evelyn, in a harsher light. All the while, his deceased wife grew in sainthood. The dreams recollected her in crystalline clarity, and pointed him to the sacrifices she had made- because she loved him.

  Whispers in the dark began telling him what he had not known. It was a ploy- all of it, to gain his wealth… to make him Evelyn’s puppet, this is what the voice told him. It said he was a fool. It tried to make him a bargain. He shunned it. His mind grew silent, though nakedly horrific images still danced in his mind.

  He awoke with a start, hearing a loud bump and scraping near the outer wall. A branch, it had to be a branch. The wind is having fits. He flipped his covers back, swung his legs to the side of the bed, put on his slippers, and went out to investigate. He had not bothered to turn on the light, as it would likely give him a headache if he did, so instead he relied on the residual illumination streaming through the windows from the streetlamps and moon.

  Scrape! Thud! The sound of trotting feet, light and bare over the floorboards…

  “Who’s there?”

  Nothing.

  Kenneth tried the light switch nearest him… nothing.

  He went out to the hallway to search the drawer of the small table near the front door, where he kept his keys and a flashlight. The packing company has quality employees it will be there, he thought. His heart responded with a pair of bump, bumps.

  A shadow ran over the wall. Kenneth let out a small cry, nearly forgetting his plan to get the flashlight altogether. Then he broke for the table, pulling the drawer with enough urgency to cause the flashlight to roll crazily. He snatched it up. The shadow sprinted across his face. Clicking the light on, Kenneth scanned the room.

  Nothing.

  He cursed.

  The wind reached a crescendo, howling like a pack of wolves as it licked at the eves, awnings, and floor from below the foundation. The light beam caught on two amber eyes, and then they vanished. He heard trotting feet again, and then, these too disappeared.

  “Whoever you are, you’re unwelcome!”

  Giggles rolled down the stairwell.

  “I am telling you to leave at once, or I will call the authorities!”

  Silence.

  He went towards the stairs, fighting to control his nerves. He twitched, and jumped nevertheless. The flashlight clattered to the ground, the batteries spilled out, the landing went dark. Something wiry had tackled him, his face mashed into the flooring. Whatever it was, it was strong. It lifted Kenneth’s head, smacking his nose quite hard. He heard it crunch, felt the sting, his eyes grew blurry. He tried to fight. His attacker had other plans. It drove a knee into his lower back, pushing him back down to the floor. Long, greyish fingers, covered his mouth, and in the pale moonlight from the panes, he saw his blood glistening as it ran over the attacker’s hand… another hand gripped his windpipe.

  “You know what I want. Three days Kenneth Moreland… all you get. Otherwise, I shall come for you! Now sleep, dream, I will return.”