<<transcript intercepted @ 18:30 on 12/10/12>>
"I am not entirely sure where this transcript came from. That is, I don't really recall the name of the person I interviewed in order to get it, but I do recall it was another young woman, perhaps in her twenties. She was quite agitated and urged me to get the interview over quickly, and ran off in a hurry as soon as she was finished. I can only hope she's managed to find safety, or that she's alive at all... - E"
<<opening attachment: THATNIGHT.TXT>>
The darkness fell too
suddenly that night.
The streetlights
flickered on my way home from the play recital, an eerie dance. There was no
moon out, only gathering thunderheads. It looked like rain. And I had to walk
home in it.
My feet hit the concrete
softly, step by dance shoe clad step. A man stood under the orange glow of a streetlamp.
I paid him little mind, though I did think his behavior was a bit odd. Who
stood underneath a streetlight at night dressed in their Sunday best, anyway?
I continued on. He must
be a businessman waiting for a late bus or something. An awkwardly tall
businessman, yes, but seemingly normal enough.
Until I looked back five
minutes later, and saw that he was gone. Until I began to feel… watched.
I ignored it and
continued forward.
Footsteps. Right behind
me.
I stopped, startled.
So did they.
I ran.
I thought I’d gotten far
enough away. I couldn’t hear the footsteps anymore. I thought I was alone.
I wasn’t.
An unseen hand ran its skeletal fingers down
my spine. Another clasped my shoulder. Yet another ran its fingers through my
long hair.
I yelped. Turned.
And saw the man.
But he wasn’t a man. Men
have faces. And men don’t have six pairs of skinny, inhumanly long arms.
I don’t remember much
after that. I woke up at home in bed hours later. But I know for sure it wasn’t
a nightmare. It felt too real to be a nightmare.
And besides that,
nightmares don’t stand, waiting, outside your bedroom window.
<<end transcript.>>
No comments:
Post a Comment