The Shadow Man

The mind can be a dark and twisted place where shadows can take on a life of their own.

I was being followed by death, and death showed itself as shadows. On this particular night, those shadows stretched longer, slipping into cracks and crevices of bark and earth like a cockroach scuttling for refuge. 

Among the encroaching gloom and obscure shapes was a man waiting and watching, and though I couldn’t see him from the heavy dusk, I knew his eyes were glued to me, glued to my house. He had been following me for some time, and I knew he was closing in. 

I pulled the curtains shut; the shadows couldn’t get me in my home, I had kept every light on in the house for a week straight now. All the corners of every room were illuminated with a heavenly glow. 

I picked up my phone. Twenty-four missed calls and twelve missed messages, all from worried family and friends. They thought I was going insane. I had started ignoring them when they reached out and said I needed help. That therapy would be the best because the police and my cameras have not caught any sign of my stalker. 

I opened up the dial pad and pushed my thumb hard against the numbers. It rang one time, then another. I tried to calm my breathing. It was hard living in a constant state of anxiety from the watching eye. The operator answered. The words came out of my mouth quickly before she had a chance to talk: “Hello, this is Mae Tyler at 498 Elm Road. There is a man outside my window, and he has been watching me every since sundown.”

“Oh, hello, Mae.” The dispatcher on the line said annoyingly. “You know this is the fourth time this week?” 

I pushed my face near the window, fogging it with my breath. “I know, but he is here. I see him right now. He is outside, standing near the trees.” My breathing grew heavier, panic setting in. “If you send someone over now, you can catch him. He’s right outside. He has been staring at me all night.” 

The woman on the other line sighed “And what does he look like, Mae? Has he moved in the last hours? It could be your imagination.”

My eyes started to water. “No. He is real and has been hiding near the treeline. It’s hard to make out any features.”

“You have been calling us about this man for weeks now, and every time we come out, nobody is there. Are you sure there is a person outside your house?”

There it was, the police thought I was crazy, too. The first time I called hadn’t sounded desperate, but the 15th, 20th time, I knew I sounded insane.

“Yes!” The words came out louder and more chaotic than I had intended. “HE. IS. OUTSIDE. He knows I put up cameras and won’t come near the house anymore.” 

“We will send someone over. It might be a minute since it isn’t an immediate emergency. In the meantime, just stay inside.” I hated her condescending tone. 

I angrily hung up and put my phone on the bed. My mind pulled me back to the memories of my stalker, the shadow man.

It started when I came home late a month ago. My friends had dropped me off after a night out. My driveway is long and hidden by overarching trees. When I got out of the car, I felt that awful sensation of eyes on the back of my head. It was a feeling at first, the hair-raising goosebump feeling, but as time went on, it got worse. 

As I lay in bed at night, I could hear something outside, roseling in the leaves. The light tapping against my window and doors, making me peek outside, and it was the first time I saw the man. As I watched, he watched back. That was the first time I notified the cops. He was outside, and I was safe behind my cement cage of a house. Then, somehow, I knew he had found his way inside. The floorboards creaked under his boots, the sound of doors opening and closing, and the water dripped from my sink. In the morning, I found things in places I didn’t put them. The cops came out and searched the premises. Dusting for fingerprints, looking for forced entry, and they left empty-handed. 

Then came the night when I awoke, and my door was slightly opened, a shadow peeking in from the small crack. I remember I screamed and grabbed my phone, calling the police. That night and the nights that followed, I was hysterical. My family came to stay with me until I calmed down. They helped me install the cameras around the house. They said it was for security, but I knew their looks of doubt were pity. My friends kept asking me to leave the house. If I left, the man would get me. So I stayed and ignored everyone.

So here I was, in the same predicament a month later. I was sick of it, though. I was sick of the feeling in my gut, sick of nobody helping, and sick of the judgment I received. I would take things into my own hands, and when the cops got here, I would have him in my grasp. If he could watch me, I could watch him.

I looked at my phone again; the time was 3:42 in the morning. I put it in my jeans pocket and walked down the hall to the spare bedroom. Opened the safe and grabbed the gun. If the cops wouldn’t help me, I would need to help myself. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The only thing separating me from him was my front door. My grip tightened on the gun; the cold metal felt foreign beneath my hand. I could feel my mind wavering. If I stayed in, I could wait for the cops, but then the man would escape like he always did. If I took action, I could end this horrible nightmare. I steadied my mind, then stepped out of the threshold, the warm glow of my safe space fading behind me. The light was replaced by the cold embrace of the wild night. I was inviting the darkness in. 

Silence coated the forest with an eerily thickness. I weaved through the trees, trying to find the intruder. I tried to move out of sight, away from the dirt-covered driveway and around the property as a ghost. Unseen until I needed to be. There was no sign of my stalker as I approached the end of the driveway, and then the leaves crunched. I sank into the earth and headed towards the sound.

There he was, the shadow man, he was walking quietly through the trees. I mimicked him, following his silent steps. With each one, he grew closer to my house. A sense of relief washed over me. I wasn’t crazy; he was here. 

Another step and a crack. A branch under me snapped, and the echo of the sound was hauntingly loud. The man stopped in his tracks and turned towards me. I pushed myself behind the tree and held my breath. I was so close. The cops would be here any minute. I needed to act, and now. I steadied my grip on the gun. Both hands steadied each other and slightly pushed down on the trigger. My heart pounding, I turn from the tree. The man was only mere feet in front of me. I pulled the trigger as fast as I could, then again and again. The sound of bullets firing off distracting me from my thoughts. I clicked the trigger until the bullets stopped coming. My fingers work faster than my brain. The man was yelling when he went down, and then silence encompassed the forest once again with its thickness. I had no time to think or feel. I ran back into the house and straight to my room. Victory and guilt coated my bones. I grabbed my phone off the bed and dialed the operator one more time. 

“I got him. I got him. Send the police over. He is lying in my front yard. Bring an ambulance.”

“Who is this hello? Can you tell me where you are at?” Another operator, not the same one as before.

“Mae Tyler. I am at 498 Elm Road. Send a car quick I shot him with my gun. I got the guy. I’m not crazy.” A smile washed over my face I was free. The man would no longer stare; his shadow would be gone. 

“Maam, slow down. You shot someone?” Suprise was in his voice.

“I shot the guy, my stalker; he’s in the yard. Send an ambulance.”

“Maam, it says someone arrived there a while ago.”

I got quiet. The realization washed over me. “Maam,” The operator said. 

I ran down the hall. “Maam?” The operator repeated.

I pushed past the door. “Hello, Maam are you still on the line?”

My heart started racing, and my stomach dropped as I saw the corpse that now lay in the front of my house. As I approached him, the shadows seemed to disappear from the illumination of my phone. I recognized the familiar blue uniform, the silver badge that sat on his left breast and made out his lifeless face. My eyes went to my phone. “Maam, stay right there we are sending backup.” I ended the call as the gravity of the situation filled my head. The soft glow of my phone dims as I stand idle. 

I stared back at the shadows in the forest, and among the trees, a familiar shadow stared back. His eyes watched me endlessly. I could hear the sirens somewhere in the distance. Maybe the shadows weren’t haunting me after all. Maybe I was the shadow haunting them.