Are You There?
By
Houston Rogers
© 2009
Author's Note: All characters and events depicted are completely fictional and are products of the author's imagination. Any relation to real life events is completely coincidental.
It was dark in here... but that was the way he liked it. The light hurt his eyes. People hurt him too... far to much for him to take anymore. So he'd gone into seclusion, locking himself away from the outside world. All he had now was his wife to comfort and love him. At least he wasn't alone.
“I'm going to get something to eat,” he said, swinging his legs over the side of the bed and standing. She didn't reply, just kept doing what she was doing. He was slowly getting used to her not wanting to talk to him, but that didn't mean it didn't still hurt. He sighed and shuffled out of the bedroom, nearly stumbling over the rug in front of the door. “Damn thing,” he cursed under his breath but not loud enough for her to hear. He knew she didn't like swearing.
Out in the hall, he moved slowly towards the kitchen in the dark. He didn't want to turn the light on because he was afraid someone would see him. But why? There was no one out here but him, and his wife was back in bed. He got scared too easily these days... especially when there was nothing to fear. Shaking his head to clear his mind of these troubled thoughts, he reached out with his hands and found the wall, using it for guidance. Ah, there's the kitchen!
Stomach now starting to rumble, he left the wall behind and moved towards the fridge, straining his ears in the darkness for the familiar hum. Where the hell was-
He ran right into it, bashing his nose and feeling warm liquid burst from his nostrils. Gah, nosebleed, he thought to himself, pulling his shirt up and wiping the lower half of his face, tasting the blood. After a minute or two the bleeding seemed to stop, but his shirt was a mess. He pulled it off and tossed it to the floor without a second thought, then opened the fridge to see what he could find, shielding his eyes from the light. After examining the contents of the icebox, he pulled out a pack of bologna and rolled up a slice, stuffing it into his mouth. He started to do the same to another piece when something slipped past him like a ghost.
The hairs on his neck stood up and he spun around, heart pounding in his chest. He caught a glimpse of white fading into the darkness; there was enough light from the fridge to see that much. “Where are you going?” he asked, his throat dry. There was no response. Why was his wife up now? Even more important... why wasn't she answering him? It's true that they hardly spoke anymore, but not even she had ever gone this far. It was scaring him, and he said so. Still no answer from her. He took a step after her, hesitated, then kept going, reaching out to guide himself through the darkness. He could almost see her white gown floating in front of his eyes, hear her soft footsteps on the bare floor, smell the sweet scent of her perfume...
He kept following her towards the door when it opened and she slipped outside. The freezing air rushed into the room, swirling around his feet and numbing his toes (he was in nothing but boxers now), making him stop. Was she mad? Going out in the dead of winter in what she was wearing... she'd be a human ice cube before she got 20 feet. He thought he heard a voice call out behind him, but that was madness. He ignored it and ran out the door after her. The snow didn't bother him at first, but after a few seconds he was struggling not to hop from one foot to the other. He didn't see her now. Where did she go?
“Where are you? Are you there?” he shouted into the howling wind, wrapping his arms around his body in a pathetic attempt to keep warm. It didn't work because Niveus was never warm. He blinked his eyes, thinking that he'd seen her again... yes! There she was! He walked towards her, no longer able to feel anything in his legs and feet. But she changed... shifted into something that wasn't quite human. Her flesh melted, her gown faded away, and he screamed as he remembered the truth... the horrible truth about where he was and what had happened. Get back to base, he thought to himself before the thing came after him.
**********
“Where's he going?” someone asked.
The soldier ignored this question, the man shambling down the hall having attracted all his attention. None of them had seen him for days. He'd been locked in his room ever since he'd found out his wife had been brutally killed by the aliens... yet here he was now, going down the hall as if he were completely blind. He moved from one side to the other at a slow pace, reaching out for support. The soldier didn't understand why he was this way because there was plenty of lighting.
Not one to stay still when something odd like this was happening, his friend got up and went after him, telling him to stop. But the man didn't. Instead he went on outside, wearing nothing but a pair of undershorts. “Is he mad?”
The soldier thought yes, but he shook his head and stood, and both of them walked over to the thick, bulletproof window that separated them from the outside world. They both could see the man standing out there, about 30 yards away from the base, shivering like crazy. Neither one of them heard the scream, but they knew what was happening as soon as he turned around and ran back towards the front door. “”Let him in!”
“Can't,” the soldier said, pointing to the large, spider-shaped shadow behind their unfortunate friend. Before the man outside even got 20 feet, the thing pounced and knocked him to the ground, digging its sharp teeth into the soft flesh of his neck, hot blood spurting from the wound. They looked away from the gruesome sight, and when they looked back, man and creature were both gone.
Almost as if it never happened.
The End
Afterword: I had the strange image of a man sitting in the dark. He was on his bed, alone at first, but then I saw a woman next to him who could only be his wife. He looked as if he were in great distress and I wondered why. What could possibly be wrong with this man? That led to this story. I hope you enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it.
-Death