Zen At Night

Tyler crouched next to his door inside his room.

Footsteps rubbed against the hardwood floor. They raced past his door and down the hall.

Stopped.

Then traced back the same direction past his door again to the guest room. He glanced at his clock. Two A.M.

“Who’s out there” he yelled. There was no response, just the continued squelch of bare feed on the wood. He reached for his phone and tried to call, but the signal was gone. Dead. He heard the steps return down the hallway, but as they got to his door they stopped in a sudden break of rhythm. He backed away form his door staring at it, he could feel what ever was on the other side staring back. Tyler scrambled to his feet and went to his closet to fetch his baseball bat. He heard something press slightly against the door, the hinges groaned slightly and the wood door creaked. He readied himself for combat as he approached the door with the bat raised, but the thing did not try and enter. The doorknob stood motionless. Pressure released as the door groaned and the footsteps made their way to the kitchen. Tyler took the chance creeping to the door and with sweat covered palms creaked it open to the dark hallways. He peered down towards the kitchen. Windows let pale moon light into the hallways. His eyes adjusted, but he saw nothing. The pitter patter no longer sounded and his nerves subsided as he stalked out and about into the hallway with his bat ready.

Then they came again, this time marking new territory. They moved from the kitchen to the right into the living room. The steps were heavy and every time they moved he could hear the skin twisting and gripping the floor. Tyler wore socks so he half slid half walked across the hardwood till he reached the kitchen. It was open to the living room which held large floor to ceiling windows. Old antique mahogany wrapped around the walls and furniture. The kitchen a collection of dark wood and marble. The sound of the steps moved around the living room, he sharpened his vision to see anything, but there were only shadows. The sound roped around then sounded as if was coming straight at him.

They got closer and closer. The feet wearing themselves against the hardwood until they could of been his own. He swung the bat. At what? He didn’t know, but what ever it was he would not stand for it invading him.

The bat caught nothing but the side of the shelving which splintered and echoed through the house. The footsteps ran and moved back towards his room. Then stopped in the darkness in front of his door.

Slowly he heard the rubbing of heels turning.

Turning towards him.

Tyler reached for the lights breathlessly skipping across the kitchen to the other side. He flipped them on. Light flooded the dark kitchen illuminating the cracked shelving. The windows caught his eye and he turned to look at the living room. He screamed flinching back into the wall.

The windows were full of gray dead faces. They grimaced, laughed and cried. They were in horrible shapes with gray dull skin, eye sockets empty with endless void, but with eye brows and lids contoured into emotion. There was no room between the faces, they stacked, squeezed and covered every inch of the the windows. Tyler stared in shock.

The footsteps trampled towards him. He didn’t react in time. It probably wouldn’t of mattered.

I was home for the weekend and it was late at night. I was going to the kitchen for something, with out socks, and my feet were making a low squeaking noise every time I walked. I thought about what it would be like to be on the other side of the door, while I was ‘creeping’ out there.

Also, at night when I look at large windows a vision of a large amount of faces staring at me in the darkness always pops into my head. I always have to squint and focus to make sure they are not there, but it is always a thought.

I combined these two ideas.

Happy Birthday! To myself! Cheers everyone, long life and glory.

Static In The Radio
Depth of Sound
Hallways
Misplaced Places