The True Horror of a Poltergeist

[cw: swearing (one "b" slur), unsettling themes, possible gaslighting, predatory behavior, body horror]

[while the following story is based on true events, names and other indicative details have been deliberately changed.]

"You just have to remember that it isn't real," Doctor Wilson said. 

I sighed. I hated to admit it, but she was right.

"Then what should I do?" I asked. "I mean, what would you do in a situation like this?" 

Doctor Wilson paused. 

"Just ignore it," she said finally. 

"B-but- but-!" I stammered. "But what about the stuff flying around? How can I just explain away-"

Doctor Wilson interrupted me.

"If I remember correctly," she said. "You have a cat, right?"

I paused, then nodded.

"Well," she said, "there you go. A perfectly logical explanation."

"But I saw-"

"Our minds have a fascinating way of reconstructing memory," Doctor Wilson continued. "It can lead us to believe wild and impossible things sometimes. There was this famous study once; to sum it up, if you show a person a picture of Mickey Mouse and Bugs Bunny together in a particular context, the subject would actually believe that they once saw Bugs Bunny at Disneyland - which is impossible, right?"

"Right…" I said

"And impossible things are called 'impossible' for a reason."

"Because they're impossible…" I said dryly. 

Doctor Wilson nodded again.

"So whenever you get scared," she explained, "you just have to keep that in mind, okay?"

"I'll try my best..." I said.

Doctor Wilson smiled.

"Good," she said. "I believe in you! Now, if you think you're going to be okay until our session tomorrow-"

"I get it," I said, cutting her off. "I should be heading to bed, anyways."

Doctor Wilson nodded, waving awkwardly through the screen. I waved back, then ended the video call. I pushed away from the desk, rolling backwards in my chair. 

I glanced to the side. Broken picture frames still littered the floor.

At least those won't be too expensive to replace… I thought to myself. Maybe I really am getting worked up over nothing again…

I looked up.

A man stood by my desk, following my every movement with an intense, unblinking stare.

I stared back, unamused.

He vanished.

I looked up at the mirror above my dresser. The man had shifted locations, standing behind me now. I sighed.

"You're not real," I said out loud. The man frowned.

"Oh really?" He said. His mouth never moved when he spoke. His voice was distant and metallic, like a faded recording.

I turned around. The man was gone once more. Looking back to the mirror, he had moved again. He was always like this - tricky, indirect, mysterious; It was, frankly, really annoying.

"I'm going to bed," I said. I got up and stretched.

"Why tell me?" The man asked, tilting his head. "No one will hear you if I am not real." He smiled.

His face had the appearance of a hundred different x-rays stacked together to form a semblance of human features, causing his teeth to stand out in an unsettling way.

He moved again, this time clinging to the edge of the ceiling, peering down overhead.

I had to admit that there was a grace to his actions, as if he were always moving through water. His long, dark hair flowed over his shoulders, slightly swaying with each subtle motion.

I tried to ignore him.

I reached up under my shirt and unclasped my bra, chucking it across the room. I flopped back onto the bed, letting out another exasperated sigh. The man was suddenly crouching beside me, his face level with mine; I could feel his breath on my neck as he leaned closer.

"Don't be weird," I said flatly. The man paused, backing away.

"You're beautiful…" he whispered.

 I groaned.

"What did I just tell you!?" I asked.

The man said nothing. He simply stared for another moment before vanishing again. I rolled onto my side, closing my eyes. I could still hear him breathing.

The first time I had seen the man, I was terrified; the second time, I was unsettled. After ten years, however, I was just tired.

"Don't you have anywhere else to be?" I asked.

The sound of breathing drew closer.

 "Where could I go?" He asked. "I don't exist." 

I scoffed.

"You seem really sore about that, buddy…" I said. 

There was a smile in the man's voice. 

"Buddy..." he repeated. "Does that mean you're finally giving me a name?" 

I flinched. He was always weird about names.

"It's just an expression." I corrected him. 

The man seemed disappointed.

"I have heard your name so many times," he said. "Yet how I long to hear you say it yourself… to say it to me…"

I threw a pillow at the man; it went right through him, but the act was still slightly satisfying.

 "Let me sleep," I demanded.

"You know," the man said. "There was once a time where your kind were thrilled to speak with mine…"

"So I guess sleep isn't happening, huh?" I asked. 

The man ignored me.

"In fact," he continued. "They would even try to cross the barriers between us. There are certain places in the wilderness where the veil is thinnest."

"Good thing I'm not a nature person, then..."

 The man continued, seemingly lost in thought. 

"They would send us their most beautiful, promising youths, hoping to appease us." The man sighed. I could feel his long fingers trace over my skin, gently brushing hair away from the side of my face. I repressed a shiver. I reminded myself of what Doctor Wilson had always said - it wasn't real, it was just in my head.

"To think," the man whispered. "There's still a chance that you and I could meet someday..." He hissed the words like a prayer. 

I grimaced.

"Well," I said. "Good luck getting me out in the woods any time soon - because it's never going to happen."

The man paused at this, then laughed - a horrible, melodic sound. He said nothing else.

The sound of breathing faded. I finally found myself able to relax enough to fall asleep.

Morning came.

I munched on a toasted bagel, going over a mental checklist before heading out; my phone was charged, the car had half a tank of gas, and I had triple-checked the address I was using on my driving app. I had already been to this particular clinic several times before, but I still liked to keep the app on in case of any possible traffic problems.

I was about to head out the door.

The man appeared between me and the exit. He gave me an unreadable smile.

"You should fill up your gas tank before leaving," The man said bluntly.

I paused. It was unusual for him to try and give me mundane reminders - let alone ones that were so direct. 

"Thanks for your concern?" I said, grabbing my purse. "I think I'll be okay, though."

"Are you sure?" The man asked. 

I froze. We locked eyes for a moment. A chill ran down my spine.

"...Whatever…" I said, pushing past the man and out the door. 

I got into my car, then headed to the nearest gas station.

The drive was uneventful at first. There was some road construction, which isn't unusual in a city like mine. It was still early in the morning; virtually no one else was out on the road. I listened to music from an app on my phone, mindlessly driving from muscle memory.

"Turn right." The app demanded. I looked at the screen, confused. Was there an accident up ahead or something? Did the construction cause re-routing? I didn't think much of it.

I turned right. 

The turn took me off of the highway and onto a dirt road. Something didn't feel right. The road got narrower as it continued; I couldn't turn around. I stopped the car, weighing my options. Should I back up several feet over a curving dirt road onto the highway? Or should I keep moving forward and pray for an outlet? 

I decided to keep moving forward.

The road seemed to carry on forever. I started to regret my decision. I looked down at the gas meter - it was almost empty.

The music from my phone blipped in and out. The service in these woods was obviously spotty. I closed the music app, continuing onward in total silence.

Then It started to rain. No, not just rain - it was a downpour. The road began to flood as the narrow, gravel path took me further into the woods. I moved as slowly as possible just to keep from spinning out and getting stuck in the mud. 

Suddenly, my phone chimed. I jumped.

"You have arrived at your destination." 

I stopped the car. I examined my phone screen; sure enough, there was a small marker for a location. I peered through the windows, unable to see anything except trees and thickets. Then I saw it - a small shack situated next to a swamp - perhaps an outpost of some sort? A sign hung up above the cabin; in big, hand-painted letters, it said "Last Chance Camp". I almost wanted to laugh.

"That is cartoonishly ominous," I said. I checked my phone. Still no service. I would have to keep driving.

I tried moving forward. The car was stuck in the mud. I took a deep breath, trying my best to remain calm. For a brief moment, I looked back towards the cabin, wondering if anyone was even there - or anywhere in these woods for miles.

I froze.

I could see him. Out in the fog of the storm, smiling like a predator, was the man. He raised his arms up, tossing his head back with a laugh. There was something different about his voice. It wasn’t distant anymore - it was physical.

"Come join me!" He said. "It's beautiful out here, isn't it?" He vanished from sight.

 I gripped the steering wheel. I didn't know what to do. I grabbed my phone, dialing emergency services; it would be worth at least trying to reach someone, wouldn't it?

I heard a click as someone picked up. I breathed a sigh of relief.

"Give me your name," a deep, tired voice said on the other side.

"Alice." I said. "You see, I'm stranded out-"

"Your full name, please." The voice said.

I sighed.

"Alice Katharine Webb," I said, sounding out each syllable clearly.

"Thank you…"

"Yes," I continued. "Now can I tell you what's happening?"

No answer.

I looked at my phone. The call had never gotten through.

"Just stay put," the voice continued through the phone. "I'm coming to you."

I looked up. Something was moving towards the car; it was invisible, but the rain gave shape and form to it, implying its outline within the droplets that struck. The figure moved quickly, lunging towards the car and slamming down on the front corner of it. The car tilted and moaned with a sickening crunch that reverberated through every bone in my body. The figure walked to the side of the car. Standing still, the figure seemed to be shaped like a human being - but with much longer proportions. It reached out and placed a hand on the glass, fogging up the window immediately; there was an extra digit on each finger of that hand print, making the fingers entirely too long. The figure vanished. The rain slowed down. Everything seemed to grow quiet.

I felt someone breathing on my neck.

"Alice Katherine Webb…" a deep voice whispered in my ear. It was far too real, and far too close. I could feel a hand on my shoulder. Something sat down in the passengers' seat beside me, weighing the fabric down with invisible force.

"...What do you want?" I asked.

"I just want to talk…" the voice said. "Just hear me out, Alice…" he languished on the sound of my name with a long, contented hiss.

I shuddered. 

"What did you want to talk about?" I asked.

The voice paused. I could almost hear the smile in his words as he spoke.

"This time," he began, "when you go to move ahead, you'll find that you won't be stuck. Go a little further down the road, and you will have service again. Even further, and you will find a proper road. You are going to be fine."

"...Why are you telling me this?" I asked.

"I want you to remember my kindness today," the voice continued. "I want you to remember that today could have been much worse. No gas, no phone, no help coming for you of any kind." I felt the cold, long hand move up the side of my neck, pulling a strand of hair behind my ear. I reflexively leaned away.

"Just tell me what you really want." I snapped. 

Something suddenly grabbed me by the hair, pulling me towards the passenger side of the car. I could feel warm, wet lips against my ear.

"In due time," the voice said. "For now, I just want you to remember who you are dealing with."

Then I was let go. The presence vanished.

I took a deep breath before trying to pull forward again.

Somehow, I was no longer stuck. My phone chimed; without any input of mine, it was trying to redirect me back towards the clinic. I drove further and, sure enough, I was able to turn onto a town road.

A gas station was conveniently nearby. 

I filled up the tank, sighing at the cost as it tallied up. I checked the front of the car; the right headlight was splintered, like something had taken a baseball bat to it. The impact seemed to be the size and shape of a fist. I shook my head.

"Goddamn dramatic bitch…" I mumbled to myself. I paused, reminding myself what happened in the woods wasn't real. I had to ignore it. After so many years, after trying everything, what else could I do? Some things are just impossible.

 I looked down at the gas receipt in my hand, groaning. I remembered, then, that I would receive a bill later for missing my appointment with Doctor Wilson. Could I just tell my insurance that there was an emergency? An accident? What insurance claim does "ghost attack" fall under, anyways?

Long story short, whatever this is, it isn't scary; It's just inconvenient and expensive. That's the true horror of a poltergeist.