Followed Home

Submitted into Contest #252 in response to: Start your story with a character being followed. ... view prompt

2 comments

Fiction Horror Suspense

She couldn’t see them, but she could sense them. Like how you knew there was someone standing behind you in line at the grocery store even though you hadn’t turned around. She kept throwing glances over her shoulder as she rushed up the street lined with old craftsman-styled homes. Their empty windows peering down at her, intensifying the feeling of being watched.

She first noticed the sensation at the park. She could usually be found there on her days off, sitting on a lone bench facing a small lake. She came here to read and get lost in her thoughts. Often doing more of the latter than the former. On this particular day, she sat staring at the lake’s shimmering surface, not thinking of anything in particular. Almost like she was in a trance. And then she felt it. A small tingle on the back of her neck. A small lurch in her stomach. There was someone standing behind her, casting a shadow over the bench. Slowly, she set the all-but-forgotten book down next to her and whipped around in her seat. There was no one there. The shadow had vanished. She did, however, see a small flicker in the corner of her eye. A duck perhaps, she told herself, or a feisty summer squirrel. Rubbing the neck, to abate the sensation of her hairs standing on end, she grabbed her book and stood. Her stomach still had that uncomfortable lurching sensation, like she had missed a step and was still trying to find her footing. She looked around once more, but there was no one.

Taking what she believed was a casual stride, she left the park. Her house was only a few blocks away. As she walked, she began to notice that the street was empty, quite unusual for this time of day. No middle-aged men pushing lawnmowers. No kids jumping through sprinklers or racing by on their bikes. In the absence of the suburbia soundtrack, she could hear it. The tap-tap-tap of footsteps on pavement. As she quickened her pace, the footsteps too quickened. They pounded harder and harder into the pavement until it sounded as if the steps were in a full-out run. They pounded louder and harder, TAP-TAP-TAP-TAP-TAP. She braced herself to be grabbed from behind, but when it seemed like her pursuer was on top of her, the echoing steps just stopped. The sudden halt made her flinch as though she had been grabbed. She whipped around, arms flying wildly out beside her. The empty street stretched out before her. She panted as she twisted around looking for whoever had been running up behind her. It was just a kid, she told herself. Just some prankster tween trying to scare her. But she didn’t hear a door shut or the mischievous laughter that usually followed such encounters.

She turned back around and continued back up the street. The footsteps didn’t return, but the prickling in her neck and stomach wouldn’t abate. Each time she glanced behind her, she saw that same flickering in the corner of her eye that she had seen in the park. Just up ahead, she could see her front porch, jutting out like a safe harbor at sea. She was almost home. She quickened her pace, practically jogging down her garden path and up the front steps. Plunging her hand in her pocket for her keys, she heard it. TAP-TAP-TAP-TAP-TAP. The footsteps pounded down the sidewalk. Without turning around, she pulled her keys from her pocket. With a clank, they fell onto the hardwood of the porch. Frantically, she scooped them back up. TAP-TAP-TAP-TAP-TAP. The footsteps were just outside the gate. She slid the key into the front door. TAP-TAP-TAP-TAP-TAP. They were coming down the garden path. She wrenched the door open and flung herself inside just as the food step ascended the front steps, slamming the door behind her. Frantically, she locked the deadbolt, just as something heavy threw itself against the door. BAM! BAM! BAM! The pounding echoed off the foyer walls, as if many fists were banging against the front door. Then, just as swiftly as it had started, it ended.

She backed away from the door. With every step, she anticipated more banging. But nothing came. Then, from the corner of her eye, she saw it. A shadow darted around the side of the house. Dropping her book and keys onto the hardwood, she sprinted down the hall and through the kitchen to the back door. It had beaten her there, but the door was locked. The shadow loomed out from behind the lace curtain covering the single-paned window set in the door. The handle rattled and shook back and forth, but the lock held. The shadow slammed a large thin hand with claw-like fingers against the glass then vanished once more.

She stood in the kitchen, staring in terror at the back door. Heart pounding in her ears, she was frozen in fear. She could not move, could only stare at where the hand had hit the glass. Minutes passed. How many, she did not know. She began to relax, her heart rate dropping back to normal. It was gone, she told herself, whatever it was, it was gone. It couldn’t find a way in and it lost interest. She exhaled a long breath.

The hairs on the back of her neck stood on end as they had in the park. Her stomach dropped. A swift movement behind her told her she was wrong. Before she could move, she was engulfed in darkness. The shadow surrounded her. A strong hand pressed itself against her mouth, claws digging into her cheek. Another hand was pulling her right shoulder back and down, causing her neck and head to wrench backward. A thick, smoky blackness filled her eyes. A heavy inhuman laugh rang out. It filled, not the kitchen, but her head. Echoing around her skull until she felt her head must burst. Watering eyes rolled back into their sockets. The shadow removed its hand from her mouth, bloody streaks cut into her cheek. Her mouth lulled open. The shadow shoved the hand which had held her face down her throat. Clawing at her insides like rope, it pulled itself further down into her. She fell to her knees as the thing climbed into her, choking and gagging as it went. Until the blackness consumed her.

She awoke, face pressed into the kitchen tile. Shimmering moonlight cascaded in through the kitchen windows. She pushed herself unsteadily to her feet. Her vision swam before her. On weak legs, she stumbled down the hall to the small half bath. Running her hand along the wall she found the switch and flipped on the light. Squinting into the mirror, she admired her rosy cheeks, the claw marks had vanished. Her small button nose. Her straight, flat teeth. Holding her hand up before her, she admired her stubby fingers. She smiled a wicked smile, and let out a heavy, inhuman laugh.

May 26, 2024 03:02

You must sign up or log in to submit a comment.

2 comments

Kim Meyers
19:43 Jun 05, 2024

Great ending! I love a twist

Reply

Show 0 replies
David Sweet
15:02 Jun 01, 2024

Terrifying! Thanks for sharing the story. With the build-up of suspense you know something bad was going to happen. BTW I like your profile Pic with the duck! At first casual glance, I almost thought it was a Rosie the Riveter pose, until I realized it was a duck! Haha. Good luck in all of your writing endeavors.

Reply

Show 0 replies
RBE | Illustrated Short Stories | 2024-06

Bring your short stories to life

Fuse character, story, and conflict with tools in Reedsy Studio. 100% free.