Trapped by Truth

That’s the thing about this city, anyone who discovers its little secret is unable to leave. At least, that’s what we’re led to believe. I haven’t tried to escape yet, though I fear any effort would be futile. There isn’t an issue with the secret itself, it’s more about the control they seize over the city. The blissfully ignorant and unaware can move freely in and out of the city, but as soon as they pick up the scent the size of their world shrinks. Immaculate is one way you could describe the city. Every bit of pavement, every building and every public area is kept spotless. Anyone would think it’s the safest, most beautiful place to live on Earth, but everything comes with a price. We pay with our freedom for knowing the truth.

I remember when I was blind to what was going on. I would commute to work in the early morning and make it back to the apartment just as the sun would cast an orange hue over the world. Nothing ever seemed out of the ordinary. Even being out on the town at night was a wonderous experience void of the fear of undesirables. I would often head back up the coast to visit my parents, but visits became less frequent as my comfort and laziness of staying home took over. It really was a city you could fall in love with, but love can sometimes leave us feeling broken and neglected.

A cold Autumn evening pushed a breeze through the city, rustling every leaf in proximity. I was walking back to the apartment building with a few groceries, enjoying the brisk weather and oblivious to the truth of my surroundings. I recall dropping my shopping bags when I heard the most terrifying, blood-curling scream from a woman no further than a block away. A singular long scream of true horror and then silence. At first, I was unable to move. A disturbing feeling of sharp ice travelled up my spine and set all my hair on ends. Hypervigilance kicked in and my heart rate became faster than it ever had. Every bone in my body sensed doom as I realized whoever had silenced that woman was nearby and was keeping quiet. I thought about the prospects of hiding and creeping around the closest building but the apartment was only two blocks away. My hand shook so violently that I couldn’t unlock my phone. With a deep breath, I decided to make a run for it.

Whisps of the coldest air brushed against my face as darted down the street. One block to go. I could hear nothing other than the sound of the wind and nothing in my peripheral vision had caught my attention. I could see the entryway to the units. As I reached the gate, I placed a hand on the crossbar and leapt over it in a single motion. Almost there. I darted up the stairs and quickly unlocked the door to my apartment. Safe at last. I stood just inside the entry for a long time, trying to process what was going on. I didn’t dare turn on the light, for fear that someone dangerous was waiting to see where I was hiding. Somehow, being home didn’t feel any safer than the street. That’s when I saw it. Two glinting eyes, waiting for me on the lounge. An eerie red colour glowing in the dark like the monsters of my childhood. Once again, I was unable to move.

“You move fast,” The figure commented, in a low, overly-friendly sounding tone. Silence filled the room. I couldn’t get a single word out.

“I am not going to hurt you. Do not turn the light on.”

I swallowed. The figure rose from the lounge, appearing more human as it moved towards me but it was too dark to make out any details. Towering over me they lowered their voice to a whisper, “You will speak nothing of this night to anyone, less you want to end up like her.”

The scream echoed in my mind like a warning siren. The figure dispersed into darkness and somehow the loungeroom light flicked on. My heart stopped. Questions of who or what had threatened me and how they were able to break into my home bounced around in my head. I cried for hours on end, wondering whether the trespasser would return and whether they were indeed responsible for the scream I had heard in the street. Was a murderer just inside my apartment waiting for me? I figured I would never sleep again, but eventually, I blacked out.

I awoke the next day back in my bed with a killer headache. I wondered if what had happened the night before was just a dream. I recalled the warning of not speaking about it and decided to wait and see if anyone else would bring it up first. I switched on the TV and checked every local news channel, then scrolled through my phone to see if anyone had messaged or posted about it. It seemed what had happened was indeed just a dream. My phone began to vibrate as a private number attempted to contact me. I hesitantly answered.

“I hope you are feeling better,” the voice from the previous night said. Immediately, I began sweating. The sound of the voice spiked my blood pressure so intensely it hurt.

“I will be meeting you again this evening. This time with less intimidation. Farewell.”

The call ended and I felt dizzy. This was about the time any reasonable person would call the police, but the warning resounded in my head, urging me to adhere to the stranger’s demands. If the stranger already knew my phone number and where I lived, there was no way the police would be able to save me. I called in sick for work and laid in bed. My headache had transformed into a migraine and my vision began to warp. I remained petrified in bed for the rest of the day.

Time passed quickly as I fell in and out of consciousness. The light in the bedroom turned to a deep red hue as the sun made its way down. Darkness brought about the stranger, although this time the dimly lit apartment lights were left on. I noticed shadow swarming just outside the door and knew the time had come to meet again. I watched as the door handle slowly, and smoothly rotated downward somehow bypassing the fact that I had locked it. In walked a gigantic, well built-man with grey coloured skin and long, dead straight black hair. His haunting eyes locked with mine and suddenly I was nothing more than prey in the wilderness.

“Hello again,” he said, in his deep, muffled tone, taking a seat on the reading chair in the corner, “How is your head?”

I realised the hammering pain of my migraine was no longer there and wondered who this strange monstrous man was. Despite his freakishly inhuman aspects, he did have quite aesthetic facial features.

“It’s fine. What do you want?” I asked, trying to keep on guard. He tilted his head sideways like a confused puppy, but his dark, empty eyes remained locked on mine. I swallowed wondering if I had offended him with my stand-offish attitude and whether he would kill me for it. There was a long moment of silence.

“I wanted to make sure you were okay…and that you had not gone against our wishes. If you try to leave the city or alert anyone else of our presence, they will have you put down.”

Somehow, he seemed sorry. Perhaps he could sense my fear or longing to see my parents again or my urge to confide in someone of my strange experience.

“I will make us some tea, what do you like?” He offered, completely changing the tone.

“Wait. I don’t want to be a prisoner here, who are you? And who are the others you speak of? What the hell is going on?” I demanded.

He had barely made it to the door by the time I voiced my concerns.

“I have been assigned to ensure compliance. We eliminated one trying to escape last night and your awareness of the situation was deemed an unacceptable liability. We are not so different from yourself by day, but the night has a certain effect on us that usually causes controversy between your kind and mine.”

I furrowed my brows at the stranger. He spoke like he was an alien, which in all fairness he did partly resemble.

“What are you?” I asked blatantly.

He stood still for a moment and then turned to answer.