Frequency

Marty Simms hurried down the street towards his house, it was already past sunset and the crisp October air cut through his thin windbreaker like a knife through butter. He hadn't meant to stay out so late, he had planned to leave the arcade around five or six. Tonight was no different than any other night though and just like all those other nights he had lost track of time. Marty couldn't help it, since he was a child, electronics had fascinated him. As he grew he started noticing things hidden in the images that flashed across TV screens or computer monitors, things that it seemed only he could see.

These visions or whatever they were started innocent enough, a strange figure walking across the set of a TV show or sometimes when he turned on the TV there would be something there that he knew wasn't a broadcast, it was almost like a glimpse of the past. Once it had been a very depressed looking man sitting on a couch watching TV while a woman wept on a recliner nearby. Another time it had been an image of a child's birthday party, and still another time it had been two men in old fashioned clothing working in a field of some kind. The images varied but they never lasted for long, and they were always in monotone. The child's birthday had been black and white, the man and the woman had been shades of blue, and the two farmers had been sepia. Marty wasn't sure if the color had anything to do with the visions but he didn't think they did, the visions were always fragmented, and sometimes not even entirely clear, they were more like visions or memories of the past. What worried him is that as of late, the visions had taken a violent turn and there seemed to be one dominant figure lurking behind each of them.

The violent visions had started over the summer, one day he had come in late from the arcade, he had felt someone watching him all the way home and he was very disappointed to find out that the feeling did not leave him once he had reached his house. Marty had started his nightly routine which involved eating dinner in front of the TV. Marty checked his TV for messages nightly the way most people check email. When he had turned on the TV that night the first thing he noticed is that the image he saw was in full color not the usual monotone and it looked more like someone's home video camera than discombobulated and fragmented scenes he was used to. The part that quickly drew his attention however were the bodies, the scene depicted before him was a crime scene.

The scene was a gruesome one, a pale woman who looked to be in her late forties was lying on the floor face down in a pool of her own blood, the pale blue nightgown she had been wearing was stained in various shades of pink and red and her long black hair was matted in blood. The room itself looked like a living room and consisted of a large green sofa at the back of the room, a cheap dining room set that was pushed into the back corner near the sofa, and a large oak entertainment center that was set alongside the table and perpendicular to the sofa. The shattered pieces of what looked like it used to be a coffee table were scattered around the body suggesting that there had possibly been a struggle. There were streaks of blood lining the walls and staining the furniture and as Marty sat there transfixed by the scene depicted before him a dark figure walked into the room holding a butcher knife.

The figure didn't appear to be human but instead seemed to exist outside of this world, its skin was dark and wrinkled and resembled the color and texture of a raisin. The figure didn't appear to be clothed however it didn't appear to be naked either, instead it's entire body was clothed in various tattoos that were even darker than it's skin, it was impossible for Marty to make out any of them and instead he found himself drawn to the creatures glowing red eyes which seemed to pierce his body down to its core like two hot coals or a branding iron. After what seemed like an eternity of staring at each other the figure opened its mouth and let out a howl so loud and shrill that it caused several of the glasses in Marty's kitchen to shatter and cracked Marty's TV. Marty himself was forced to look away and cover his ears and when he returned his gaze to the TV the tube was cracked, and the box was dark and lifeless.

The next day there had been a story on the news about some serial killer, the crime scene they had shown was the one Marty had seen on his television the night before. After that first vision there had been numerous other visions appearing both in his Computer at work and in his TV at home, he still got some of the benevolent visions but the number of malevolent had become greater and greater over the passing months. Marty was so busy turning all this over in his head that he didn't notice the shadows creeping up behind him. The shadows shot past him and Marty didn't notice anything was amiss until he looked up and found himself standing in the middle of a void, empty of anything else but him and a single circle of light where he stood. Marty looked back over his shoulder and saw the last bit of clear night sky become consumed by the darkness, as he looked straight ahead again he was greeted by a gaze he knew all too well, the black figure stood before him holding a butcher knife and a burlap sack.

"What the hell do you want from me?" Marty asked.

The figure said nothing but continued to stare at him.

"I'm not going to let you do this to me, I'm going to close my eyes, and when I open them you'll be gone." He snarled

As before, the figure said nothing.

Marty closed his eyes and without realizing it began to whisper silently to himself "not there, not there, you're not there!" Slowly, he opened his eyes and was relieved to see the void was gone and the quiet scene of the suburban street he had been walking down returned.

Marty began walking again however; his train of thought was interrupted by a bright flash immediately followed by a rolling clap of thunder. He looked up and saw a large black mass of clouds rolling in over the sky and slowly blotting out the light from the moon and the stars, Marty hurried his pace, eager to make it home ahead of the approaching storm.

He reached his house just as the winds picked up and began dropping huge raindrops in what seemed like sheets of water. Marty normally hesitated for a moment before entering but there was no such moment tonight. He rushed up the front steps and hurried inside flipping the light switch on in the entryway. Between the eerie visions, constant feelings of being watched, and the hellish nightmares, Marty had begun to truly despise his house as of late.

"Old habits die hard." Marty sighed walking across the room and flipping on the TV and plopping down on the floor in front of it.

Marty reached up and switched the channel and was shocked to find himself staring at himself. The TV was acting like a mirror, reflecting Marty and his living room in bright shades of blue and white.

"What the hell is this?" He murmured. The dark figure appeared behind Marty inside the TV. Marty swung around expecting to see the figure there but instead there was nothing. He continued to watch as the figure stepped closer brandishing the butcher knife and the burlap sack once more. "What the hell?" Marty Shouted checking over his shoulder. The creature raised his knife and dug it into Marty's reflection, immediately he felt a sharp pain rip its way through his chest making it hard for him to breathe. He put his hand over his chest and felt something wet on his shirt, he pulled his hand away and saw it was soaked with blood. "How, is that possible?" He managed to cough out.

Marty turned his gaze back to the television; the dark figure held his reflection up by the collar of his shirt and with one fluid motion used the butcher knife to decapitate his reflection. Marty felt a surge of pain pass through his body again and as he looked back at his hand he noticed it was disappearing. He looked back at the television one last time his body becoming more and more ethereal with each passing moment. He made one last attempt to stand before falling over and dissipating into static.

Inside the TV the dark figure picked up Marty's head and shoved it into the burlap sack, it then swung the bag over its shoulder, turned, and left.