A man and his wife were lying awake together in bed at night. The night was quiet, until downstairs something thudded softly. They wife clicked on a lamp. She listened, but no other noises came to her ears.
"Did you shut the door?" she asked quietly.
"Yes, I shut the door," the man said. "Probably just a broom falling over."
"You sure you shut the door? And locked it?"
"Yes."
His wife shook him.
"So that's it? You're just going to go to sleep?" The man sighed, then reluctantly threw back the covers and stepped into his slippers. He walked out onto the landing and closed the bedroom door behind him. His wife waited, clutching the bedsheets to her chin. A moment later she heard another thud, followed faintly by her husband saying 'aha!'. After that there was only silence. She waited.
A while passed, so she got up to go see what was taking him so long. She reached the door and was about to open it, but heard something that made her pause. It sounded like someone was breathing heavily just outside. She crouched down and looked under the gap between the door and the floor. There were boots on the other side. Not her husband's slippers, but a kind of work boot.
She clapped a hand to her mouth and stumbled away from the door and sat down silently on the bed, trembling. Thinking of escape, she saw was no other way out of the room besides the one door; the only window in the room opened several meters above the ground and she certainly wouldn't walk away from the fall in any pleasant state. Her eyes fell on the cupboard. She scrambled over to it and climbed inside, sliding the jackets and shirts along to the other end. She eased the door shut as quietly as possible, then waited. She eyed the room through the slats in the cupboard door. It was several hours after nothing happened before she finally let sleep overcome her.
When she woke the morning sunlight was streaming into the cupboard through the slats. Blinking the sleep from her eyes she remembered last night and shuddered.
Some kind of rank smell had seeped into her dream, and it was also here in the cupboard. The smell stung her eyes. She cautiously parted the coats in front of her, and wasn't prepared when her husband's pale, dead face poked out, mouth hanging open. She squeaked and involuntarily shuffled back from her corpse husband, causing him to fall on top of her and spill the contents of his slashed and gaping belly at her feet. She sobbed. The smell intensified a hundredfold and burned in her nostrils. He had been placed here. While she slept, someone had come in and dumped his stinking body in front of her without waking her. She jerked her head around to look out the slats into the room. Her heart was beating fast. It was too much for so early in the morning.
But from what she could see, the room was empty. Her breathing slowed. She thought about getting out, wondering if he'd set a trap or if he'd already left.
She still hadn't decided when she felt something shift behind her.
YOU ARE READING
Landscapes for the Dead
Short StoryA few tales I imagined when lying awake in the dark. Please enjoy my terror as much as I did. All are originals. Formerly "Doses of Horror"
