(a new horror short)
Dense fog hovered over the water as if shrouding something secret, something ancient and vital to the grit of earth. Across the dark lake, a pair of deeply set eyes watched diligently from the edge. It wasn’t clear whose body they belonged to, but these eyes revealed mysterious shades of the night. The clouds glazed over the moon’s surface, sending down patches of light, which revealed the figure for fractionated portions of time.
Being the observer I saw those round eyes flashing an unusual hue of green in the moonlight. And a near injurious thud inside my gut told me he would never stop watching. Why was he watching me watching him?
The rumbling of a slow moan traversed across the elegant, undisturbed water, not even causing a lone ripple. Once reaching my ears, his voice was undeniable, unsheathed as a whisper.
“You are mine into eternity,” he echoed.
“But I am no one’s,” my nervous reply begged the empty air around my ears.
“Anyone whose gaze meets mine inside nightfall becomes my possession, “ he continued.
“I couldn’t stop admiring the view. You own nothing of me.”
His silent response proved my imagination had run wild.
I blinked twice to regain moisture for my tired eyes, in disbelief of this whispered conversation.
Wiping my face with my hands proved refreshing while the moon rose higher in the night sky matching the quiet of the stars.
My palms pressed into my thighs, issuing my stance into a quick standing posture worthy of a dizzy spell. My mind reeled from the stress of endless projects finally reaching their due in the hell-hole of my editorial job. That man with two beady eyes from earlier today glided across the boardroom and had vanished. I blocked him out of my memory because the stress of deadlines filled every available second. But. Why remember the threat of those eyes? Maybe my mind wanted nothing to do with it before. And now? What was there to solve but finding a way to calm my nerves? Nothing seemed to ease me down so I could enjoy the small break I had earned.
Not even this dark, beautiful view of the night sky.
My imagination is just too…. There has got to be a better way to calm it down. Am hearing things. I need sleep.
“Oh, you’re still owned, “he insisted, his lips a mere inch from mine, his breath hot and spreading across my face.
Slamming my fists into his chest, he fell backward and melted into the darkness. My feet turned one hundred eighty degrees and launched into a sprint, demanding that I not look back.
But I did.
And my escape was no escape.
Attached to my shoulders were two wide flapping extensions and glowing green eyes bearing down on the back of my head. Its claws dug into my shoulders, opening my soft flesh, finding roots between my shoulder blades and my spine and showing no signs of letting go.
It’s laugh blew hotness across the back of my neck as we hurried through the wooded corridors behind my lakeside home.
Tonight had been the wrong night for stargazing.
I was owned. And I couldn’t outrun him or it.
The flapping behind me was my only indication that my feet were not touching ground any longer.
And our destination remained a dark mystery.
Bill Bistak (a.k.a. BD Scott), Author, Producer of Bestshorthorrorstories.com & Founder of Friedrich Imagines, Ltd. a media production company