Horror

CANDLE WALKER

The room was dark and empty, a spare room that I
hadn't had the chance to do anything with. The
electricity had gone out sometime earlier that night,
so I had no way to tell time and no source of light
except for the flashlight in my hand, my lighter, and
the candle I had brought just in case. I was sitting
with my back in the far corner of the room, flashlight
pointed straight at the door on the other side of the
room. The beam of light danced on the wall across
from me as my hands shook, terrified all though I had
no idea what had been stalking me that day.
It started as I was coming back to the old house from
the store. I didn't have a care, so I biked, carrying my
groceries in two plastic bags in a crate hooked up to
the rear of my bike. When I got home I noticed that I
was missing a bag of groceries; it must have fallen off
when I was riding home. Thinking it nothing more
than unfortunate luck, I picked up the one bag and
headed inside; after all, I could do without canned
goods for a few days. I opened the door and almost
immediately tripped on something piled in a heap at
the foot of my door just inside the house. The
groceries from the bag I was holding flew into the air
and scattered as the hit the ground; when I looked
back to see what had tripped me there was a sloppy
pile of canned food.
Since I never locked my door, I simply dismissed it as
a Good Samaritan act from someone who lived in the
area and was too shy to introduce themselves. I
picked up all the food and stowed it away in the
kitchen. It was getting to be about nighttime, so I
headed upstairs to my bedroom, got a good book,
flipped the switch on the bedside lamp and
entrenched myself in a good story. As the night went
on I started to hear weird noises coming from
downstairs in the kitchen. I told myself it was just my
imagination, because every time I would notice the
sounds they would stop, and when I went back to the
story they would pick up again. My imagination would
do that to me from time to time.
Before I was able to finish my chapter, the lamp light
flickered out. I put my book down, still open and
pages down to save my spot, and went to turn on the
main light. Unfortunately, it didn't come on either...
the power was out. As I tried to remember where the
circuit breaker was, the noises from downstairs
resumed. It sounded like someone rummaging around
in my kitchen.
I grabbed a flashlight from the nightstand drawer, a
bat from underneath my bed, and headed downstairs,
each of the steps creaking on my way down. When I
got to the kitchen, the noises stopped. Bat ready, I
pointed my flashlight all around to see where the
intruder was, but saw no one. What I did see was the
canned food I had recently put away was stacked
neatly in a pyramid fashion just beneath the kitchen
table.
I swallowed hard, thinking that someone was either
playing some prank, or some sick, twisted game.
Slowly I crept towards the table, feet wet from orange
juice and milk that had been spilled on the floor.
When I got close to the table, I could hear breathing
coming from beneath it. I stooped down to look, but
saw nothing. Slowly I reached out to touch the
pyramid of cans; as soon as my handmade contact
the cans scattered. It was as if something burst
through them, scattering them in all directions. I fell
back onto the soaked floor and dropped the
flashlight. As I frantically grasped for the light I heard
the sound of feet splashing through the puddles on
the floor and run out of my kitchen. I got up and
slowly followed the footprints made of the juice and
milk mixture. What struck me as odd was that they
weren't human footprints; they were the same width
and length, but the toes were much longer, almost as
long as fingers. I followed them towards the front
door where they disappeared.
I relaxed a little, just thankful that whatever it was
was gone, but I didn't loose my grip on the bat.
Slowly I walked backwards towards the stairs again,
planning on locking myself up in my room and
waiting till morning. As I did, it sounded like
something wet hit the wooden floor in front of me. I
pointed my flashlight down at the floor and my heart
stopped. There was a new footprint, this one pointed
at me. I took another step back; another wet slap,
another footprint.
I turned and ran, tripping up the stairs but making it
up to my room. I slammed the door shut, locked it,
and pushed the bed up against it, knocking my book
down in the process. I set the bat down on the bed
for a second and grabbed a lighter and candle out of
my nightstand, just in case I would need it. That's
when I heard the first squeak; whatever it was, it was
mounting the first step in the staircase.
Frantically, I ran to the opposite side of the room,
where there was a door that led to a spare room.
Upon hearing the second step creak I threw open the
door, which didn't have a lock, ran inside and headed
to the far corner. I sat there quietly, breathing heavily,
heart pounding in my ears. I realized that I left my bat
on the bed, but was convinced by the creaking of the
third and fourth step that it wasn't worth going out to
get it.
And I sat there, counting the steps as they creaked.
Six... seven... eight... nine... ten. It was getting closer.
My hands shook as a tear ran down my cheek. What
was going on?
Fifteen... sixteen... seventeen.
I tried to control my breathing; after all, I was trying
not to be found.
Nineteen... twenty... twenty-one.
My heart pounded louder, sweat flattened my hair to
my head, and the shaking became worse.
Twenty-two... twenty-three... twenty-four.
My knuckles were white as I clenched the flashlight,
whose beam was now dancing all over the wall and
rarely landing on the door.
Twenty-five... It had reached the second floor.
Slowly the footsteps got closer as it approached my
room. I heard the lock turn, the door creak open and
the bed scrape across the floor. I heard the bat rattle
against the wood as it fell off the bed, and still the
footsteps continued; pages turned as whatever it was
picked up my book and looked through it, then came
a thud as it dropped it. It began to rummage through
my drawers and my sheets, as if looking for
something.
Then, everything went still and quiet. The silence was
only broken by my quiet sobs and heavy breathing,
and the pounding of my heart. It stayed like this for
what seemed like a few minutes, and the the
footsteps continued, closing the distance between it
and the spare room.
The door slowly creaked open, lingering ajar
momentarily; my heart was ready to leap out of my
chest, my mouth was dry, and sweat stuck my
clothes to my skin. This was it, I thought.
As I waited for something to come into the room,
nothing happened. Again came the excruciating
silence, this time lasting for what felt like hours and
hours on end. Nothing happened, and I was starting
to believe that whatever it was had lost interest and
left. Still I sat in my corner, flashlight trained on the
door opposite of me, slowly returning to a calmer
state of mind.
After God knows how long, my flashlight flickered out
leaving me in complete darkness. Frantically I reached
for the lighter and flicked it on. My gaze shot towards
the door, still nothing. I looked around the room...
nothing. Slowly I got up and crossed the room to the
door. I closed it and sat with my back against it, just
in case.
Still the silence reigned.
Finally, I let out a sigh of relief. It was gone. I went to
flip the light switch, but still the power was out. So I
lit the candle instead, and that's when I became
aware of something standing in the opposite corner
of the room. My heart froze in my chest, and my lungs
refused to work. It hadn't been there before, but it
was now. In a frenzy to get up and run I had knocked
the candle over and it went out. I gripped the door
handle, but it wouldn't budge. I was stuck, locked
inside with God knows what.
I searched the floor for the lighter and flicked it on; I
looked around, but the being was gone. Again, I was
alone. Breathing heavily I found the candle, all the
while keeping my gaze on the far corner where it had
been just moments before. Once I brought the lighter
to the wick and life was breathed into the candle, it
reappeared in the far corner, exactly as it had before.
The candle gave it away.
The first thing I noticed were it's feet, flat, long, and
bony. Its body was built the same way, abnormally
skinny like a holocaust victim, just skin wrapped in
bone. It was short, too, like a child; it only came up
to my waist, if that. Its knobbly arms were just long
enough that its long, skinny fingers reached the
ground as it stood straight up. It worse the remains
of a tattered old gray cloak draped over its shoulders.
Its face was something that is beyond words to
describe. As best I can, it was bald, pale, and had no
ears or nose that I could see. The mouth was thin and
lacked proportion, much like the rest of its body. And
the eyes...the eyes were round and lifeless, black orbs
that simply reflected the candlelight.
As I stared at it its eyes seemed to calm me down. My
heart rate slowed, my breathing steadied, and the
urge to run faded away. Something about its eyes
kept me gazing into them, unable to move, not
wanting to if I could.
I began to realize that it had followed me for quite
some time. Not just since the grocery store, but it
had been there when I was a child, watching me,
waiting for me. It had followed me since then, and it
had a purpose for me; I could feel it's gaze drawing
me in, helping me realize that I belonged with it.
It stepped forward, slowly putting one foot in front of
another, dragging its fingers across the ground. It
came right up next to me, its gaze never leaving
mine; as I stared down at it, and it up at me, it slowly
raised one arm, holding out its long, thin hand. Its
fingers were about twice my size, and I knew that
normally this would be something to be afraid of. But
as I gazed into the light reflected off its eyes, I began
to forget my name, my past, and myself. I took its
hand, and it patted my hand with its other hand. It
took the candle and led me out the door, down the
stairs, and out into the yard. Together we walked
down the street and up to the forest, the candle
lighting our path.
I stopped at the edge of the woods and looked back
at the city. The creature tugged on my arm, insisting
that I follow. I looked into its eyes and all of the
worries were gone. Somehow I knew I had to hurry,
because the others were waiting. I was not first one
he had found, nor would I be the last. I was going to
join the others.
I kept on walking, following the path that it led me
down, lit by a mixture of candle and moonlight. As we
strode the wind picked up and the candle was blown
out; it dropped to the forest floor with a thud. I looked
around frantically for my guide, but it had
disappeared. Still, there was the grip on my hand,
pulling me down the path lit by the moonlight.
I would never be seen again.