Things That Go Bump In The Night

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Fiction

THINGS THAT GO BUMP IN THE NIGHT

“I can’t sleep.”

GROWL.

“Fine,” I said. “I’ll be downstairs if you need me. Reading. Alone. In the middle of the night. Bored. Because I can’t sleep. Don’t worry about me. I’ll be fine. All alone in the dark.”

GROWL.

I got out of bed, pulled on a pair of trackpants and a hoodie.

“It’s okay. I’m pretty sure there’s nothing down there waiting to attack me in the middle of the night.”

GROWL.

I looked at the dog.

“You coming?”

WHINE.

“At least you didn’t growl at me, like him.”

I hiked my thumb towards my husband, Dax, snuggled under the covers, pretending to be asleep.

“Judases, both of you,” I said, looking at the dog on her back, and the lump under the covers.

I padded downstairs, into the dimly lit kitchen, filled the kettle, and set it to boil.

Nothing like a nice cup of mint tea at—“ I looked at my watch— oh damn! Three-oh-eight in the morning. 

Eight minutes after three. In the morning. The witching hour. Devil’s hour. The time of night when all supernatural creatures are at their most powerful. Yuck. I hated that time of night, or early morning — whichever it was. Nothing good ever happened between three and four in the morning. Most businesses are closed, the bars have emptied out. Everyone’s gone home. Early shift workers are still asleep in their beds. With the exception of emergency workers, law enforcement, and coffee shop workers, the only people out and about at that time do not have good intentions. It’s the time when mischief happens, both worldly and other-worldly.

I shivered involuntarily. I don’t believe in the supernatural. Well, not really. Maybe just a bit, kinda. How else can you explain the things that, literally, go bump in the night? The sounds that you hear coming from the dark corners of unlit rooms? The creaking of the stairs when no one is walking on them? The breeze sliding by, ruffling your hair as you sleep? If not witches, demons or ghosts, then what? What creeps around the house late at night, unseen, but not unheard?

I shivered again, poured my tea, and turned on every light on the main floor. I looked around. Everything seemed as it should be. Nothing unexplained huddling in the corners. I walked into the family room, careful not to spill my scalding tea, placed it on the table beside my chair, and sat. The house was ablaze in light.

Stupid. There’s no one, nothing, here. Save the planet, girl, turn out some of those lights!

I got up and turned off most of the lights, leaving only the kitchen and family room lights on. That was bright enough. Besides, I’d just checked. Everything was copacetic, even though it was the witching hour. At least I told myself everything was okay.

I got up and checked that the basement door was closed.

Not that a closed door would stop, let’s say, a ghost. They could move through walls, right? So, if there was a ghost in the basement, it could just manifest itself up here regardless of my securely shut basement door.

Stop it! I admonished myself.

Our house did not have ghosts. It was a new house. The only thing killed here were a few meals that I incinerated, and I was sure that ghosts of dinners ruined wasn’t a thing.

I sat in my chair, and sipped my tea. I sighed. Why was I awake at three in the morning? I’d gone to bed at the usual time and fell asleep quickly. But I had woken up. Why? I didn’t need to pee. I was warm and comfortable in bed. But my eyelids had almost flown open. And I was wide awake. Then I remembered. Snoring — both Dax and Pinball, our trusty Jack Russell Terrier. I spent nearly an hour, laying in bed, trying to convince myself that I was tired. No dice. I tried not to toss and turn, but the more I tried to stay still, the more twitchy I became.  

“Stop moving!” Dax had grumbled.

“Seriously?” I asked.

“Yes.”

I harrumphed.  

“Then you stop snoring.”

“I wasn’t snoring.”

“Trust me, you were. And it woke me up.”

“You probably woke yourself up with your own snoring. Now go to sleep.”

“Jerk.”

At that point I had gotten out of bed, and headed downstairs. Alone. In the dark.

I continued to drink my tea. I thought about reading, but didn’t think that I’d be able to concentrate. Pinball came down to join me, but first stood at the door to be let out.

Now, if there’s something that gives me the creeps more than being up at three in the morning, it’s having to go outside at three in the morning. Not only can all things supernatural be outside as well as inside, but humans up to no good — say axe murderers — could be outside waiting for their chance to get inside and axe us all.

I stood at the threshold, not going all the way out, watching Pinball pee, then sniff, and sniff some more, try to pee again, then, you know, because I was waiting, have another sniff. Finally he trotted into the house, waited until I sat down, and jumped up on the chair beside me, immediately dropping to sleep.

Show off! I thought, wishing sleep would come that easily to me.

I sat there thinking about things that go bump in the night.

And then something did go bump in the night

Pinball jumped to his feet, his hackles raised, growling. Not growling like he does when we play, but growling with teeth bared, legs stiffened, eyes focussed on the dark hallway.

My heart was hammering in my chest, my breathing rapid. I thought I might pass out.

GRRRRRR!

“What is it boy?” I whispered.

GRRRRRR!

I looked around the room. Nothing to protect myself with. I slid quietly into the kitchen, looking around. I grabbed a bulb of garlic, put it in my pocket, then grabbed the cast iron skillet that was on the counter. Garlic in case, I don’t know, there was a vampire, or something — I wasn’t thinking straight, okay? And the skillet in case the sounds were coming from someone of this world. I don’t know why I didn’t grab a knife …

I heard another noise, this time closer. Definitely coming from the laundry room. Adrenaline galloped through my veins. My hands shook. I grabbed the handle of the skillet with both hands to stop the shaking.

Pinball walked beside me, stiffened gait, growling. The sound was coming from just around the corner. I thought I could hear breathing I had to force myself forward. I was not a fight person, I was a flight person, but there was no where to go. I had to confront whatever was in my house. I raised the skillet and edged towards the corner leading into the dark laundry room, where the sounds were coming from. I took a tentative step forward. One more step and I would be exposed to whatever was around the corner, waiting.

“BOO!”

I shut my eyes, and swung the pan, connecting.

A yowl of pain erupted from my intruder.

Pinball started yipping and dancing around.

“Holy shit, Reese, I think you broke my nose!”

I opened my eyes, and there was Dax, in the fetal position on the floor, holding his nose, a red puddle of blood growing around his head.  

“My nose! I think you broke my nose! Oh my God, Reese, you broke my nose!”

“What the absolute fuck, Dax!” My adrenaline was spiking. I was furious. “What the absolute fuck? Were you trying to get yourself killed? What if I had grabbed a knife? Huh? You’d be dead right now!”

I was so angry I could hardly speak. How dare he! He knew I was not good in the dark, that it spooked me. And tonight he though it would be fun to scare me. Asshole!

He sat up, took off his t-shirt and held it against his nose, trying to staunch the bleeding.

“I was just fooling around. I thought it would be funny,” he said, his voice garbled.

“Funny? Funny? FUNNY? Are. You. Kidding. Me? Scaring me in the middle of the night? You thought that would be funny?”

“You didn’t have to hit me with a frying pan! God! It was only a joke.”

“A joke? You’re serious? You thought that you would scare the shit out of me, then we’d laugh about it? Because it was funny?”

He didn’t say anything, he just looked up at me, holding his bloody t-shirt to his face.

“If that’s what you thought, then you’re a bigger asshole than I thought. Good night.”

I turned on my heel, and went back to bed, leaving him sitting on the floor.

November 18, 2023 03:40

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