A Quiet Compilation of Chilling Tales

The Dim Dock

Quietly the tiny mice scurried along puddles reflective as a mirror, showing a grey void of a sky. rain droplets disrupt the calm surface, plipping quietly, the choir of whispering plips making a hushed chorus, like a hushed cheer from a stadium. 

Walking across the mirrors of puddles I walk, splish, splish, splish. down the paved alley, squeezing past the blackened bricks into an open street. no one, not a soul walks in the barrage of rain. the only sounds are the hushed whispers of rain and my constant, splashing footsteps. splish, splish, splish.

 I gaze up, tilting my head back, droplets seem to form from nothingness then rocked down past my face, until one hits my eye. I blink furiously, eye irritated, lifting up my right hand to rub my eye, I sooth my eye's irritation. when, out the corner of my eye, a dark form at the edge of my vision catches my eye. 

Surprised, I swiftly turn. No one. Just, just shadows. It was nothing. nothing. . . nothing. I shake my head as if to shake the weariness from my mind. I press forward, past the shops closed. Filled with life recently, but the dreary downpour dampens any warmth or light that used to inhabit those rooms.

 Instead in its place is a feeling of unease, and deathly calm. The faded paint that likely looked quite quaint only unnerved me more. The dull, chipping paint on the stone making it look years abandoned, while only hours before life filled those shops. 

Pressing on, my feet still splish, splish, splish atop the pavement. Rain cheering in hushed whispers, or is that leering? Stepping onto the wide wooden dock, I continue. A new sound to the rhythm is added. Splish cree, splish cree, splish cree. wood cries out under my weight, although hours earlier it held many times my weight. 

So, why, was it groaning so? so loud. Its sound misplaced amongst the hushed murmurs of rain, those continuous, foreboding murmurs. I pick up pace, empty places where stalls should be, long since left empty, make the dock foreign to me. Now I can hear it, loud, crashing waves, battering the docks. Simply adding to the chorus of noises. Always accompanied by my splish splish splish. 

I look out upon the endless sea as I walk, nothing out as far as the eye can see, but those knife-like waves. I almost fall over the edge of the dock, stopping myself just in time. I pause, admiring the peaceful chaos around me. The grey sky, the choppy water, the the raindrops plip, plip, plipping. 

So serene yet so full of action. Horizon stretching on to infinity, never ending. All so calm without my- I stop in my thoughts, eyes widening. snapping back to reality, I realize, even as my feet stopped moving there was still a splish splish splish. 

Terrified I whirl around. Nothing. But i still hear it. The splish, splish, splish. Where. Where is that coming from. Goosebumps raise the hair on my arms, shivers run down my spine as i wheel around. Looking for whoever is making that noise. 

Scared, I begin walking slowly back, the other splishes disappear. I stop and listen, the splishes continue. I begin sprinting in a dead bolt. Water splashes up onto my pants but I care not. I run. My face looks back at me in the glass of the storefront I pass. I don't stop. I only vaguely notice odd blue light from all the storefronts. But I still run, scared of the mysteries that lie behind me in my wake. 

I run. All the way home. Up the 27 rusted metal steps, curling up in a spiral. Through the open window I snuck through not ten minuets ago. Turning around i slam the window closed along with the shutters. I dive into bed, huddled amongst the covers, not minding my soaking wet clothing. 

The next thing I know I wake up, the sun beams in through the cracks in the shudders. I wipe away the sleep from my eyes. That, that must have been a dream, an odd one at that. I hear outside the busy costal market long since awake, and prepare for the day. Not minding that my boots were oddly wet, or that my blankets smelled of rain. For that must have been a dream.

 Because who would be foolish enough to go out on a pier alone in a storm? Not me.

(Author update; I have revisited this chapter to add paragraph breaks that were not present prior, as well as some grammatical and capitalization improvements.)