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Don't Walk at Night

Every night after work, I go for a walk, and for the last two nights someone has tried to follow me home. I say night, but it's more like three in the morning. I'm nearly fifty years old, divorced and have been reduced to working the over-night shift at a fast food place in a small town in the middle of nowhere. It wasn't always like this. I used to work in insurance and made good money until the day I told my boss off. That was about the same time I was fighting with my ex-wife, and I'd be remiss if I didn't tell you I was self medicating with some Jim Beam to help deal with my problems. Twenty years later I'm off the bottle, but I find myself with few friends and fewer options.

The first night someone tried to follow me home I didn't think much of it. It was along a stretch of country road about two miles from the trailer I rent, and I figured he must have lived around there. But there wasn't any houses nearby, just corn fields and woods. I was initially surprised to see a tall, dark figure calmly heading my way, matching me step for step about two hundred feet back. I wouldn't even have seen him if wasn't for a full moon in the sky.

I kept going, trying to ignore his presence, but I found myself looking back at his shadowy figure that seemed to almost absorb the silver light of the moon. He was like a black spot carved out of the horizon, and I'll be damned if it didn't feel like he was gaining on me.

I sped up, almost to a jog and lost him before I got to the edge of town and the little trailer park I call home. I told Mac about it. Mac is my roommate and about my only friend left in the world. Mac, that's his nickname, said that whoever it was, was probably bored like me. He told me not to worry about it then showed me the progress he'd made playing some video game. Mac was between jobs again and spent most of his time with a game controller in his hand.

I forgot about it and went to bed. The next afternoon I went to work. It was slow, it always is. Most of our business is travelers heading down the highway or truckers. I got off work a little after 2 am and after driving home changed clothes and went for my walk.

I was near the same point as the night before, the moon was up and I hadn't seen anyone or anything except for some deer in a field. I was on my way back when I heard something move in the patch of woods along the side of the road. I could feel my chest tighten when the familiar dark silhouette came out of the woods to stand in the center of the road.

He was only about a hundred feet away this time. He stood silently for a long, sickening moment that seemed to go on for minutes. It wasn't actually minutes, more like twenty seconds, I guess. When he began walking toward me my whole body flinched. I turned and walked quickly in the opposite direction. I wanted to yell something at him, or maybe yell for help. I wasn't sure which. I started trying to think of alternate routes back home and realized there was only one way. There was an intersection about half a mile ahead and if I turned left I would come out by the highway a few blocks from where I work.

I turned to look back and he had made up about half the distance with seemingly no real effort. I haven't ran in a long time. I used to do cross country in high school and college, but that was about 40 pounds ago. Suddenly it felt like he was right behind me, probably my mind playing tricks on me. Regardless, I didn't stop to look, I just ran as fast as I could.

I don't understand why I was so afraid. At six feet I'm not a small guy, but his presence didn't feel . . .

I don't know any other way to describe it, but in my mind I no longer thought of him as human. Something humanoid in appearance, but definitely not human. When I made it to the intersection I turned left and kept running even though I was nearly out of breath. In the corner of my eye I could see him cutting across a field of tall grass. He was moving faster than he should. His gait looked as if he was walking, but his speed seemed to match mine as I accelerated to a near sprint.

About a minute or two later I saw lights along the highway. When I had crossed the main road and stood next to the gas station I found the courage to look back, but he was gone. I thought about going down the street to my my job, but I was sure my coworkers would think I had lost my mind. I wiped sweat from my forehead and headed home, the whole time keeping an eye out for movement in the shadows.

Mac told me I should carry a knife. When I said I didn't have one, he gave me his. Then he asked me why I didn't try staying home, maybe play some games with him. I told him I might then went to bed. I like Mac, but I feel like he just wastes his life doing nothing. If it wasn't for me he'd probably be homeless.

That night I didn't sleep well. I'd toss and turn then fall asleep for about an hour or more. Every time I woke up the darkness of my room felt unnatural, as if it was darker than normal. I had a mild panic attack and had to turn on the lights, and when I did I thought I saw someone in the corner of my room. It was actually my coat stand, but the effect was horrific for a split second. I wasn't able to sleep well until the sun came up.

When I woke I didn't want to go to work. I didn't want to go out of the trailer at all. I started to call in then changed my mind. I was being silly. In fact I was starting to doubt I had actually even seen anything or anyone on that dark country road. I went to work my shift. I got out a little later than normal because it was truck night. Me and a couple of the guys unloaded the truck and as we did the darkness of night didn't feel scary at all. We cracked jokes and even used the pallet jack as a scooter in the parking lot even though we'd probably get in trouble if the day manager had seen us.

I went home and shared some burgers with Mac that I brought back from work. Mac put in a DVD, a superhero movie, Spider-Man I think. He asked if I wanted to watch it, but I decided I wasn't going to be intimidated by a shadowy figure that may not even exist. I went for my walk, but decided to go the opposite direction this time.

The other side of town has a well-lit park that I liked. It was big for such a small town. Not a single soul was there other than myself. I felt fine, but from time to time I'd reassure myself by reaching into to my pocket to feel the pocket knife Mac had loaned me. I decided to go back early, after all I didn't want to tempt fate. I stopped to get a drink from a water fountain. When I leaned down to sip the water, I noticed one of the lights across the park began to flicker. I stood there as a cold sensation like ice on my skin shot up my back. When the light went out I felt a bit of nausea as my stomach churned. Another light began to flicker then slowly winked out. I ran.

By the time I reached the entrance of the park there was only one light remaining. It was one of those old sodium-arc lamps hanging from a light post about twelve feet tall. The eerie orange glow illuminated a tall dark figure, and even though he wasn't near me his arm seemed to reach out long enough to nearly grab my wrist. I yelped and pulled out the knife as I left the park and went down the street. I probably looked like a lunatic running down the street at night waving a knife. I was glad that no cops decided to drive by then. Or was I?

Mac was asleep when I got home. The TV was still on and I considered nudging him awake. For some reason I thought it was selfish of him to be asleep while I was stricken with terror. But I calmed myself and sat down at the kitchen table to try and think about what happened. Everything I thought of made me sick.

It's been a few days now, and I haven't been walking at night. In fact I only go out at night for work and drive straight home afterwards, making sure to wield Mac's knife when I walk from the car to the trailer door. I haven't slept well lately and my dreams have been awful. In them I always seem to be running at night and I'm constantly lost in the woods or a part of town I've never seen before.

I called in to work tonight. I told the manager I was having stomach problems which isn't too far from the truth. Mac is sitting on the couch and playing a horror survival game (not a choice I would make). I bought a bottle of whiskey today and I feel guilty about it, but maybe it will help me sleep.

Now it's three in the morning and the lights along the street are flickering. I heard something behind the trailer a few minutes ago. I'm on my third whiskey and coke and I've found a little courage from the alcohol. If anything happens before sunrise I'll let give you an update. If I don't, well you can probably figure out why.

Posted by u/mrgrayzone