Horror Filled Tales For A Dark Night, Or Day

The Lamp

In a park on Main Street there is a thin trail that leads off the main square, where the trees huddle close, leading to a small clear opening that is a way off, with a couple of park benches around inside it. Little grass grows there, and most of it is dry. And no flowers or other greenery grow, there is only one black metal street lamp that is present, shaped like elegance into curls toward the top, holding one lamp that no one ever lights. On this street lamp on one of the metal curls, one black raven sits toward the lamp that no one ever lights, but still goes on, is sometimes silhouetted by a large full moon at night. And the bird looks this way and that if it hears a sound, but otherwise, it doesn't move at all. No one goes to the little opening, not even in the day, as a cold chill is constantly present, even when there is good weather and no wind. Even the warm sun rays that shine down in the summer, seem not to be able to break the chills. But sometimes there comes about a wonderer, whose has a lack of knowledge about the square and it's dark reputation, and whose curiosity about the thin trail pulls them toward the small opening. Down they go toward it, and perhaps only a small unusual sound is heard, and then that person is never seen again. There were locals that knew not to stray down the thin path, and that the path and it's small opening could not be closed, because of the lack of evidence found that could not prove that some people's disappearances was entirely the fault of the square. Missing people were rarely reported going into the park first, if at all, so their disappearance stayed as just another missing person's case, that could never be solved..

Harland Barnes who liked to travel to off the map towns, got a room in a still standing, old five story hotel. It wasn't all that expensive, maybe because it was once an aging apartment building. There were spots where the paint peeled, and looked dingy and stained, and the metal hinges and knobs were dull and shaky. Harland paid for one of the upstairs rooms, and lay his suitcases onto the bed.

He had pens to sell, being a salesman of the instrument. He had top of the line designs, with sharp metal tops like a calligraphy pen, that held excellent bold ink. He made a decent enough living, the pens almost sold themselves when shown to the right people. He mostly kept away from the poorer crowds as he didn't wish to waste too much time with them, even if they could afford the pens he sold, they wouldn't pay top dollar, and probably wouldn't even tip. He didn't think anything wrong of it, it was just a business strategy. He put the case with the pens under the bed of his room, and the other in the closet. The next morning when he woke up, refreshed himself in the bathroom, and got dressed, he got his suitcase full of pens and headed down the steps of the hotel, to sell to the awaiting public. He went up and down the streets of the town, following any of the public that looked like they were from a part of the town that was wealthy enough to take his pens to sell. By the end of the day he had made a pretty enough penny to start to head back to his room at the hotel.

But when he got to the street of the hotel, he saw a man and a woman dressed like they had come from an expensive play, the man in a tux and top hat, the woman in a silky long gown, baring sparkling jewelry. They had come out of the entrance of what looked like a park. Sensing an opportunity for more wealthy customers, Harland rushed to the front of the of the park entrance. The couple had just left in a carriage, but Harland rushed to see if more people were in the park, or close by. When he got into the park Harland saw no one in sight, just park benches, lamps, and a water fountain. He went to the fountain which was placed at the center of the park and looked around. No one else was in sight, and a slight breeze began to blow from a certain direction. Harland looked over to his left and saw a small trail, smaller than the exiting one next to it, a path leading away from the center of the park. Harland decided to investigate.

"Maybe it's a path to a special secluded spot. " Harland thought. He wasn't wrong.

The path led to the center of a small clearing, dim, as the sun was going down now. There was no one else around as Harland went around the small clearing, just more trees and looming shadows cast by them. Harland swore they moved closer, as if the clearing itself were alive. He went to go back the way he had come from, but the thin path had disappeared. Harland spun around quickly this time, panicking. The raven on the lamp that he saw when he had first got to the clearing had been watching him the whole time, and now stared at Harland, as it did a peculiar thing. It looked just like a regular bird, moving it's head this way and that. But now it was motionless like a statue, almost lifeless. It suddenly turned toward the side, not like a living thing, but like a flat piece of paper, being turned. After another turn, the bird was completely gone. It was one thin line, then nothing. Harland wasn't anywhere near the lamp, but he still took a step back back from where he stood.

His blood ran ice cold as Harland saw what began to form at the side of the lamp. There in the darkness now formed a figure. It looked like an outline of a man, thin orange light moving up and down, till the outline was done. The face was blank, nothing but darkness.. Until two bright amber eyes suddenly sprang open, outlined pupils and all, along with a mouth, whose orange lips smiled. It was completely dark out now, the only light coming from the lamp, and what stood leaning against it. Harland dropped his case of pens and turned to run, but there was no place to go, the trees and their shadows had closed up together completely now, trapping him in. Harland turned back to the figure next to the lamp and saw that it had now taken a standing position. It stood straight forward, legs apart, arms dropped by it's sides. It looked like the figure was getting ready to run.

Harland put his right hand into his pocket located at the top left side of the inside of his suit jacket, and pulled out his pen. It was his own personal one, with it's sharp, metal writing tip. He flicked off the top of the pen with his thump, revealing the tip of the sharp pen point. He intended to use it as a weapon, holding it firmly in his hand. The figure near the lamp started off, running at full speed toward Harland, arms of thin light moving quickly along with the legs of the thing. As the darkness of the figure fell over Harland, he thrust his pen forward, intending to stab the figure in the gut. But his pen went through the figure, like he had quickly pushed his arm through a void. The last thing Harland saw that night, was the two bright amber eyes, that opened wide and turned so bright that Harland had to close his eyes, turning his head away. Flames emitted from the figure's eyes and an intensely red substance like lava started to stream from the figure's mouth. A strong scream filled the small opening, as all that could be seen from the area was a thick line of trees from the outside, and then a drowned out scream could be heard, deadened to an echo..

And a man selling pens around town the day before, was the last that could be said of Harland Barnes when the locals were asked about him. Maybe a bit of the scream that was the last of him that could have been heard from the night before, would have been heard from within the square. But if so, it went unreported, to at least the police.

They had looked around the town, after the hotel manager had found nothing but the suitcase of clothes that Harland had left in his room's closet for a few days, never showing up again to check out of the hotel and to collect his belongings. The manager had alerted the police, who even went into the park after questioning some of the town's citizens about Harland's disappearance. But the thin path that led to the small opening of the extended small arm of the park, was now thinner then it had been before, looking more like a part of the park, in which a gathering of trees had grown a couple of inches too far apart compared to the other trees. But if they had checked the trees closer, and decided to squeeze through them to the opening beyond, they would have found the two small benches with the lamp off to the side that no one ever lit, but now lit up bright, especially at night, where shadows appeared from the trees and followed the light of the lamp, to a dimension beyond.

And if anyone were to take a look at the spot right behind the lamp, just a few feet away, they would have seen a hole that held items of material things, like a deep pocket in the ground. And in that deep pocket they would have found things such as a whistle, an umbrella, a walking cane, a child's bouncing ball.. And a suitcase full of pens, all there to waste away.. And there on the black metal lamp with a design of curls at the top, and a sometimes burning lamp that no one ever lights, will be a raven sitting atop of one of the curls, that just looks like an ordinary bird..