Days of Horror

Day 2: The Rider

"You did this."

"You did this to me."

October 7, 2008. Phoenix, Arizona

Nick Thomas shot up on the couch, eyes wide, heart booming against his chest.

Sweat poured down his face, soaking through his night shirt and underwear.

Usually, this would be a typical occurrence. Usually, the nights of Arizona were sweltering, even indoors with the fan on.

But tonight, the temperature was below 80 and the fan was on full blast.

And this wasn't the first time Thomas had woken up with his heart booming.

He sat up on the couch, trying hard to calm himself down, running his hands across his balding head, eyes staring at his feet over his potbelly.

It had started ever since the funeral.

A few days ago, Nick's wife Lori had been found dead. Everyone was told that she'd fallen down the stairs and snapped her neck. No one had looked any further than that.

And that was fine with Nick. In fact, he preferred it that way. He preferred everyone seeing him as the grieving husband, the man who'd lost the one thing he'd cared about.

Not a man who was guilty.

Not a man who'd shoved his wife down the steps in a fit of rage and violence.

Not a man who was glad she was dead.

Glad, that is, until he started having the same nightmare.

Since the night he buried Lori, Nick had been woken up every night by the same hellish vision. He never got back to sleep afterwards. Always stuck on the side of his bed, sweating bullets, eyes wide. It got so bad he moved downstairs, hoping that a few nights on the couch would somehow make things better. But it never did.

The nightmare kept returning, waking him up and sending a warning bouncing around his brain.

A warning of death.

A warning of fire.

A warning of penance.

And it was coming for Nick. Growing closer with each night. Closer to it's goal. Closer to it's target. Closer to the one who–

The doorbell shook Nick out of his fevered thoughts. His eyes darted down the hallway towards the front door.

For a moment, he hoped he was still dreaming.

The second doorbell confirmed he wasn't.

Swallowing hard, Nick opened his bedside table, removing a small revolver, fully loaded with six shots.

Breathing heavily, the overweight and nervous man crept down the darkened hallway. Pictures of him and his wife stared at him with large smiles. Judging him. Almost... taunting him.

Keeping the gun out of sight, Nick unlocked the large front door and opened it a crack.

Standing out in the cool night air stood a man clad in a leather jacket. His long, sandy hair was swept to the side, showing off his handsome features. He smiled at the sweaty man and offered out his hand.

"Hi, how you doing? Would you like to hear about our lord and savior, Chthon?"

Nick stared at the hand, confusion covering his face. He looked up at the man quizzically, his brain trying to figure out what was happening.