Lurking Amongst the Dark

I still remember it like yesterday, I can still recall the feelings and emotions I felt that night. Even thinking about it sends chills up my spine, however, I know I came out of it just a little braver.

It had been a chilly, autumn night, one where the stars peeked out through the darkened clouds and the moon came and went just the same. What was once a relaxed girls' night had turned into an exploration into the woods behind my house, something I do often... in the daytime. I had my paths and my markers, but something about the darkened landscape gave the once calming, lovely landscape a more chilling feel. It's something about how the dark masks so much, how they can hold absolutely anything, has always made me awfully wary. Sometimes I feel as if I do see something within the shadows and silhouettes that lurk within the dark, looking back at me with darkened eyes, but I always pretend I don't. 

Which I'm sure is why, when we found a small structure that resembled a once warm cottage home abandoned within the depths of the forest, out of everyone, I had been dared to go inside. I wished they knew how much my skin crawled when the high-pitched creak of the door hit my ears, how much my eyes darted about my surroundings as I slowly walked inside, how much the second I was covered in darkness I wanted to run back into the moonlight. However, I promised myself that I would attempt to face my fears, that this would be good for me, that the worst that could happen was my foot going through a rotten floorboard, and in reality, these were naive things to think about. 

We'd taken whatever flashlights we could find out with us of course, and some were better than others. Mine tended to flicker and turn off at random, and to get it going again I simply smacked it against my palm a few times, not a big deal. However, now that I was in there, the dingy walls felt smaller than they appeared outside and the air had grown dense with dust, the flickering quickly became a hindrance of the highest degree. 

I observed the thin planks that made up the wooden floors, the peeling wallpaper, the blackened remains of fabric draping from wooden frames that once made up a sofa, faded pictures of nameless people in broken picture frames with shards of glass laying on the floor below decorating the dilapidated walls, and wires and unknown threads hanging from the ceiling that is in the process of giving in. It's a pretty standard abandoned place, nothing too special about it besides the fact that it's nearly pitch black in here without the light of my flashlight.

I looked to either side of me, a corridor to my left and a staircase leading down to the right, an old stone fireplace sitting directly in front of me. Wondering which way could lead to more light, despite the rational fact that going down would usually lead to less light, I decided to go downstairs first in search of more windows for moonlight to shine through as I could see the shine of light on something down below from the doorway. Abandoned buildings already have a certain feeling within them, I've been in a handful throughout my life of stupid teenager antics, but this is a new level as I usually do explore in the daytime for a reason. 

Ever since I was a child I had lit my room up with nightlights and kept the hallway light on every night, once the lights were off I never opened my closet, never looked under my bed, and refused to go into any room or space unless the light was on. Something about the feeling of unease, the unknown per se that could be prowling within the dark set me off every time, and it still does to a point. The only difference now is I'm supposed to be more mature, being scared of the dark isn't exactly something that is supposed to stick with you once it gets older, but for me it has.

I kept my light pointed at the ground as I watched my step, making sure to only step on planks that appeared reliable as I walked down the stairs, feeling the wood bow under my foot didn't exactly help my nerves. I saw moonlight ahead at the bottom of the stairs, and I still believe that was the only thing that got me down those stairs. It took everything in me to step down onto the dirt-covered floor, especially as the other half of the basement became visible. The moonlight made its way through a broken, dusty, cobweb-covered window and was shining off of a puddle that was without a doubt growing something within it. Despite the eerie feeling even being down here caused, nothing could top the dizzying feeling of having my back to the rest of the darkened space. 

Yet turning around didn't feel any better, especially when I did shine my flashlight that way and came to the sudden, bone-chilling realization that my light didn't reach the end of the basement walls. I could not fathom what was past the end of my faulty flashlight, part of me didn't want to anyway. I don't know what's scarier, not knowing what's there, or finding out and wishing you hadn't. The darkness continued on, I took a sharp gasp and backed up into the stairs as the light began to shake, and suddenly the light went out entirely. 

I remember getting dizzy almost immediately after the light went out, an unpleasant dryness threatened to choke me right then and there. Within seconds, what had once felt like an eerie dare to get me over my fears had turned into what felt like the end of days. I smacked the flashlight against my palm, desperately, silently pleading for the flickering light to come back, any light would do even if it was just for a moment. Within the darkness I felt the hair stand up on the back of my neck, the feeling of eyes pierced through my very being as I refused to look up from where I knew my hand was but could not see until something caught my eye. 

Out of everything, I tend to remember the image I caught from the corner of my eye better than the rest of that night, as the light I was once drawn to turned on me. Due to the light, I could see the outline of something that was not there before, it was uncanny, unsettling, and looked as if it was attempting to be human, but just wasn't. Maybe it was distinctly its odd height, how it was seemingly bent over in an unusual way, how its build appeared to be merely bones coated in a thin layer of skin, or how a low, echoing clicking noise followed its appearance. Most of all was the sheen of glossiness over what could be its eyes that made two distinct white rings amongst the pitch black. I was instantly riddled with clamminess, struck with an intense headache, and my heart began to race as I violently hit my light onto my palm until I felt the edge break skin, only then did the light return. As if it was a weapon, I brandished my light toward where I saw the being, but it seemingly evaporated back into the dark.

I didn't need to look further into the dense dark, but the thought of turning around to run back up the stairs felt more like a death wish than anything else, so as much as I wanted to spin on my heels and clamor up the stairs as quickly as I could, I knew that turning around would only frighten me more. Not to mention the stability of the stairs was questionable, if I ran up them too suddenly I could break through one and either hurt myself or become slightly trapped down there, so with all my might I resisted the urge and slowly began going up the stairs backward with my light scanning the basement floor. The trembling soon became so violent the light began to flicker all due to my own shaking, but once I hit the top of the stairs, I spun around and lunged towards the door. 

However, the house seemed darker as the clouds covered any extra light I could have, and down the corridor I chose to not go down was nearly perfectly, horribly pitch black. Even then I could distinguish the long-limbed thing, or maybe it was a portion of the collapsed ceiling dangling down, but I did not want to stay and find out. As I reached the door, I remember the chilling sound of sudden rhythmic thuds racing up behind me only to suddenly come to a halt just behind me. I hadn't closed the door behind myself either, someone else had to have done so, the hinges were too rusted and sticky for the wind to have been able after all. However, now those same hinges seemed stuck, and at that moment the darkness itself felt as if it was breathing down my neck, its aura cold and eerily empty. 

The flashlight flickered off one more time, sending my heart to a sudden halt. Swallowed entirely by darkness, tears quickly rushed to my eyes and spilled out onto my flushed cheeks. I remember how I pounded on the door until the splinters from the weathered door buried themselves within my fists and screamed until my already dry throat turned to nearly silent screeches, waiting for someone to come from the other side and get me out of there felt like an eternity. I could hear the chaos on the other side, at least they ended up feeling bad for daring me to do such a thing, but it still took them nearly an hour to unjam the door using broken branches as makeshift crowbars. It still somewhat sounds like a nightmare thinking back, but I also know that after the first initial panic, I eventually sank to the floor and sat by the door. 

Without the light, my eyes eventually adjusted to the darkness and allowed me to see what I had previously only seen silhouettes from. The thing I once believed was a devilishly lanky creature turned out to be a ladder leading into an area of collapsed ceiling that had been left to fall apart. Nothing came from the thuds I heard behind me, as now I could see some newly fallen stones off the fireplace. Eventually, as I stared at the same room for the hour I was stuck, with the moonlight aiding my eyes, my heart eventually stopped racing once I realized there was nothing hiding in these shadows. 

I instead thought of who was in the pictures on the walls, how they must've lived a nice, peaceful life in the very house I sat in. The worst the dark could be hiding was a raccoon or rat, and by the time the door was open, I had grown oddly familiar with the once terrifying room. If I could grow comfortable in such a place, one riddled with memories that don't belong to me, I could go home later than night and turn the hallway light off and unplug my night lights. From then on, I kept a flashlight by my bedside and slowly got down to one nightlight. 

Eventually, I was even able to go back to that place, and it was easy knowing the shadows didn't hide something sinister. That was until I wandered down to the basement once more. Even in the daytime, the other side of the basement was pitch black, and now the sunlight reflected off of a pair of glistening rings that seemed to shift the second I looked it's way. Come to think of it, I never did find an explanation for the figure I believed I saw that night down there, and for the last time, I didn't stick around to find out. 

I pretended that I didn't see it, I think that saved me from getting stuck in here again, as when I went back up the door was still open. It might've saved me as well, as I had wandered out alone this time around. After that, though I still felt brave, I felt grateful more than anything that I wasn't alone the first time, and that whatever was down there found enough mercy to spare me the second time around. I would never test its patience again, I faced the fear I wanted to face, I did not need anything more from that place.