The Monster in the Shadows

A wind blew, the finger-like tree branches rattled and shook and I hurried down a winding path that reminded me of the one in Alice in Wonderland that the broom-dog dusted away leaving Alice stranded in the darkness.

Which is exactly how I felt.

Pale moonlight shone through the branches, casting a latticework of light and dark. It was disorientating, my eyes trying to simultaneously focus on the shadows and the light, and I couldn’t tell if anything hid in those shadows. 

There are always monsters in the shadows, a voice whispered. I didn’t know if it was real or in my head, but it sounded familiar.

I continued on, the path winding, and I crested a hill, stopping at the top to rest and gain my bearings. The hill overlooked rolling fields of grass, dotted with trees and a building in the distance. During the day it would be quite a view. A place I could bring Rachel for a picnic. Maybe sit under that oak, her head resting in my lap while I read her favourite poems to her and foliage drifted down on us.

Maybe I could keep one of those leaves, put it in a memory book for us to share.

The idea brought a smile to my face. It was definitely something we should do.

Problem was, I had no idea where I was.

Well I did and I didn’t.

I didn’t know this place.

But I knew it was a dream.

And I knew it was a dream because it was the same type of dream I had every night. The one where ‘he’ chases me. The locations change, usually I recognise them as places I’ve been before. Someone’s house, a dark alleyway, an empty park. It’s always at night with the moon coming and going as the clouds pass by. I will wander about for a time, hope building within that this is just a normal dream. Maybe in this one I will.

But it never is. And I never win.

He will always come for me. He will always show me. 

I sighed and headed down the hill, towards the meadow. The path was laid out in cobblestones and, so far, the clouds have kept away from the moon. I stepped off the path into the knee-length grass, the blades of grass whispering as I moved past them heading to the oak tree. There was no rhyme or reason why I headed there, I guess it was because it was the only thing that stood out in this dream.

I wondered if it meant something.

As I got closer, I felt a feeling of foreboding in the pit of my stomach and the tree started to feel familiar to me. Like I had seen it before, but I was sure I had never been here before. I felt the memory on the edge of my mind and I tried to grasp it, but it was always out of reach.

I stopped before the tree, looking at it. The trunk was thick, I knew it must be a hundred years old or more. Thick branches protruding out in chaotic randomness before they disappeared behind thick, multi-pronged leaves. 

The feeling of familiarity was stronger now. I knew this place. But from where?

As I gazed upon the tree, a heavy cloud covered the moon and everything was cast in darkness. Darker than normal cloud cover and I felt my heart beat quicker.

This is it. This is when he comes.

But this time I won’t be afraid.

“I do not-” I started but my voice cracked and I swallowed, feeling the familiar lump of fear. “You don’t scare me,” I said again, louder this time. I sounded confident and it spurred me on.

It was silent in the darkness. A complete silence where nothing moved or made a sound. Not the wind, or the grass. No insects chirped, no owls hooted. Not a single sound was heard.

Except for my heavy breathing.

I jumped as the grass beside me rustled. It was pitch black but I felt a presence nearby, moving in the long grass. I took an involuntary step back.

“Y-you can’t do anything to me,” I stammered. The confidence was gone. Disappearing as quickly as it came.

I waited, expecting a response. Sometimes it did. Sometimes it didn’t. But the long, drawn-out silence continued and I started to relax, feeling the tension in my muscles easing.

Huehuehuehue.

It was so quiet at first, I thought I imagined it, like when you’re in a hearing test booth and you think you’re hearing something, but then it got louder and I realised it was behind me.

Huehuehuehue.

I froze in place. My stalker had caught up to me. Standing behind me. I didn’t dare turn around. I didn’t want to look in its face. 

“Look at me,” the voice whispered.

I shook my head, hurriedly, like the quicker I did it the more the creature would understand I didn’t want to do that.

“You did it,” it whispered. Its voice sounded like broken twigs, sharp and piercing. “You will do it.”

“No,” I said, definitely.

“There are always monsters in the shadows,” it croaked.

“No!” I shouted, feeling the rage build inside me. “No! No! No!”

“Look…” it whispered.

And then, as if a hood was lifted from my head, everything lit up. The clouds were gone, the moonlight returned and the field and the oak tree were lit up in the pale light. 

“It will be done,” the voice whispered in my ear, almost fading away. “You cannot stop it.”

I gasped. The oak tree stood before me, but the leaves were gone, replaced by twigs waiting for the next bloom and in the moonlight, it gave it a sinister air, like it radiated evil. I gazed upon it, caught in the haunted beauty of the tree when the silence of the night was broken.

Creaaaak…creaaaak.

The sound broke the night's silence in rhythmic consistency.

 Creaaaak…creaaaak.

Then I saw it.

“It is done,” the voice whispered. But I didn’t react. I was frozen in place, my focus stuck on the source of the noise. I wanted to look away but I couldn’t.

“It will be done,” the voice continued.

My mouth fell open and my chest heaved. I cried out. Trying to drown out the sounds of the rope swinging back and forth. Back and forth.

I tried to close my eyes, to remove the sight of Rachel. But even if I could, I could never unsee it. Her head at an odd angle, her eyes bulging, almost like they were about to pop out and her mouth open in a twisted ‘O’ shape. 

The noose around her neck creaked as she swayed in the gentle breeze. 

“Nononono, not her,” I moaned. “Not Rachel.”

A cold hand grabbed my shoulder and twisted me around, bringing me face-to-face with my stalker.

The stalker was a man, about my height, wearing a black jacket with the hood up, his face in shadows. It stood there, breathing heavily, but it did nothing. It just stood there. I could feel his eyes on me and everything about him felt familiar. Like I knew him.

But like the field, the knowledge was out of my grasp.

“Who-who are you?” I stammered but the stalker said nothing.

I reached up, going for the hood and the stalker didn’t move. I grabbed the hood, my body tense, ready to run or fight, but the stalker still remained.

I pulled back on the hood, revealing the face of my nightmares and it was…

I groaned and opened my eyes. My phone was right next to my pillow, the alarm sounding like a siren in my ears. Through bleary eyes I fumbled to turn off the alarm and finally managed it after three attempts.

I rolled on to my back, the sheets were damp with sweat, the hairs of my arms were raised and goosebumps pimpled my skin.

“God damn nightmares,” I muttered, rolling out of bed. I put my phone on the side table, bare of anything except empty energy drinks and wrappers, and headed down the hall in the bathroom.

The bathroom smelled of strong cologne, my favourite brand, and on the floor was a pair of white undies with a green band. I smiled as I picked them up, remembering last night. I brought them up to my nose and inhaled deeply, enjoying the smell of her and felt myself go hard. Tossing the undies on the vanity, I stepped into the shower to take care of myself before work.

I headed down the long hall, passing closed doors with shiny plates displaying the names of the most important people in the business before reaching the open workspace where the hum of people talking, mixed with the clacking of keyboards and mice and all of it infrequently drowned out by the ringing of a phone. Desks split into four by flimsy dividers lined the room with military precision and I took my usual route towards the back, ensuring I passed by Rachel’s desk.

As I approached, I heard her talking to Natalie, one of the older ladies who was so often in other people's business that it may as well be her actual job.

“...It’s a bit weird isn’t it?” Rachel was saying. “It was only one pair and nothing else.”

I stopped, just out of sight of her cubicle, and pulled out my phone. The managers who walked the aisles like a galley slave foreman didn’t like us idling so at least being on my phone I could act like I was busy with something work related.

“Are you sure they were stolen?” Natalie asked.

“I am. I know I washed and put them on the washing line.”

“Maybe they blew away? Fell off the line? Could be a hundred reasons.”

Rachel paused for a long time and I almost continued on when she said, “Maybe. No, you’re probably right. I’m not thinking straight. I didn’t get much sleep last night.”

“Oh,” said Natalie, her voice perking up at the idea of some salacious gossip.

“Not like that, silly,” Rachel said, putting on a mock voice of shock.

I smiled. Her sarcastic sense of humour was a reason I loved her so much.

“It was just a weird night,” she continued. “I felt like I was being watched.”

“Watched?” Natalie said, intrigued. “What do you mean?”

“I don’t know,” Rachel said, uncertain. “Just a weird feeling.”

“Did you call the police?”

“What would I tell them? I checked outside but I didn’t see anything out of the ordinary. Nothing strange. It was just a feeling. Maybe it was the full moon.”

“Maybe,” Natalie said, disappointment evident in her voice. She was there for something she could cluck at the other old chickens during their break. This wasn’t the juicy stuff she wanted. “Anyway, I just came over to drop these forms off.”

“Thanks Nat,” Rachel said. 

I looked up just as Natalie waddled away from me.

I smiled, grateful no one knew the secret. The smile remained on my face as I passed by Rachel’s cubicle.

“Hey,” I said as casually as I could.

Rachel turned away from her monitor and gave me a smile that made my heart flutter.

“Hey,” she said, her voice was soft, like a velvet pillow. She had almond-coloured eyes and dark hair pulled back into a french braid. Her skin was tanned, and she was wearing a skirt and top that hid the curves I knew were there. I thought again of last night and felt myself harden again. Not wanting to embarrass her, I took a step back, hiding half my body behind the partition so she couldn’t see. 

“How are you?” I asked. We kept our relationship casual and quiet. Management didn’t think highly of colleague fraternising so no one knew about us.

Not yet anyway.

“Tired,” she said, stifling a yawn.

“Big night?” I said with a grin.

“Just the same old,” she said and started shuffling some files on her desk. Her desk was a mess, with papers everywhere, as well as a toy Pikachu on her computer box and photos pinned to the dividers. Prominent amongst it all was a frame gilded with vine leaves making the shape of a heart around a picture of her and…

“I hear you,” I laughed and then paused. “Hey, what’s that?” I asked, pointing to a flyer on her desk.

Rachel brightened up, “Oh, that’s Mildew Cottages.”

“Can I see?” I asked, hand already out.

She handed it to me and I read over it. Mildew Cottages was a coastal Bed and Breakfast about a two-hour drive from here. The flyer indicated prices but it was the central picture that caught my interest.

The main focal point was a cottage. It looked like a small church with white weatherboards and double casement windows with daisies sprouting from flower pots directly beneath them. It promised a refreshing, relaxing weekend away. Beyond it was a rolling field with tall green grass and a large oak tree. 

Everything around me went quiet. The chatter, the keyboards, the telephones, it was all drowned out as my nightmare replayed in my mind. This was that oak tree. The one Rachel was…I saw it on Rachel’s desk the other day, when I was…

All the sounds came rushing back and I blinked, “What?”

“I asked if you were ok?” Rachel said. “You kind of spaced out.”

“Yeah, sorry.” I held up the flyer. “Mildew doesn’t sound like a nice name for a B&B.”

Rachel laughed, “Yeah. It’s named after some guy who used to own the land, not the mould.”

“Oh…” was all I could say.

“Yeah, we’re going up this weekend.”

I looked at the framed photo on her desk and smiled, “That should be fun.”

Night had fallen and I stood in the shadows of an ash tree. The tiny white flowers irritated my nose but I didn’t care. It gave me the best view and she couldn’t see me. I watched, the hood of my jacket drawn up and hands in my pocket. I watched Rachel in her second-floor apartment. She was bringing in her washing from the portable line. It had been a nice day, the weather pleasantly warm, so her clothes would have dried quickly. 

It was cooler now, Rachel had changed into sportswear, having just got back from the gym, and was readying herself for an early night as I overheard her tell Natalie later on.

As I watched I thought about the nightmares. I thought about the one from last night. I thought about Rachel hanging from that tree. The bulging eyes. The angle of her neck. The creaking of the rope. 

I felt myself get hard again. 

Those nightmares are the reason why I don’t want to sleep. They are why I drink caffeine all day. They are why I fill myself with energy drinks at midnight and take whatever pill that will keep me going all night. I don’t want him interfering in what I do. The nightmares were always from his perspective, the ‘good me’ and I could feel the horror in him when he sees what I do, or am about to do. It was a battle of consciousness, but I’d won out. The good little boy was in his cage, only out in those nightmares. 

There was nothing he could do.

The light in Rachel’s apartment went out, snapping me out of my thoughts. I picked up my backpack and unzipped it, double checking I had everything I needed; duct tape, thick nylon rope, zip ties and the directions to Mildew cottages.

Satisfied, I zipped up the backpack and slung it over my shoulders.

I looked at the lattice that ran up the side of the building, the freshly planted vines not yet grown enough to cover the gaps. Like last night it would be an easy climb.

Securing my backpack, the monster left the shadows. Ready to go to work.