27
Dec
The Bump In The Night Was Death At My Doorstep
We, as human beings, have had certain fears engrained in us, back from long before history was recorded. Most made sense, for the time, and stayed with us through our shared desire to survive. The sound of thunder could also be a stampeding herd of beasts; the dark hid predators and other dangers; dark waters hid all sorts of creatures. But each culture has a common myth, something that we can’t explain quite as easily. We are somehow innately afraid of pale, distorted figures with sunken eyes and sharpened teeth- something that ; we can’t explain the commonality, and we call them zombies or vampires , or sometimes demons or wraiths- whatever we can do to make sense of our collective fears. But it was inescapable that something in our distant past gave us those long-repressed memories.

The thought had occurred to me in my youth, and worried me to an insignificant degree for years. Of course, I tended to be very good at worrying, courtesy of an absent father and an overprotective mother, so I never put too much stock in it. I was grown now, with a wife and a son of my own; and on this early Saturday morning, it was my son that jolted me awake with a piercing scream.
I didn’t panic, like I had when his nightmares started. At first, I’d bolt out of bed and run to his room in a panic, where I’d find him sitting stiffly upright with his eyes locked open. He’d tell me about the dream, and I’d stay with him until he was able to sleep again. We took him to a shrink after a couple of days; she called it “night terrors”, which explained his extreme reactions and its relative frequency. The dreams were always the same; there would be a man at the foot of his bed, standing and staring at him when he opened his eyes. The man was tall and pale, with large sunken eyes that seemed to pull in the light around it, and dressed in a loose black tunic that covered the entirety of his body. He would break into a wide grin when my son would startle, revealing ragged and broken teeth as he stretched an inhumanly long arm towards the terrified child. It was then that my son would find the breath to scream, and I would come. Invariably, he would tell me that the creature would scurry under the bed with a mixture of a cackle and a moan just moments before I came into the room.
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