The Intruder
Creeeeak.
…Did the door just groan? Who’s there? Under the duvet I roll to my left side. Peering beneath the slit of my eyelids, I expect the door to be ajar.
A veil of shadow spreads over the bedroom tonight. I can barely see through the dim space.
But I can see far enough to know that the door is firmly shut - so that pesky intruder, Luna, my cat, can’t get in.
I try to go back to sleep.
But dread has already coursed through my veins. My heart thumps in my chest, echoing inside my ears.
My hands grasp tightly onto the Hand of Fatima pendant draped around my neck: the palm-shaped amulet has warded off evil before (at least that’s what I like to believe).
Silence falls over the room.
I remain alert.
Moments pass and I yield to tiredness. As my eyelids droop down further and further and further, I begin to return to ease–
Whoosh. Thwack. Tap. Tap.
–What the hell was that?
Slowly, I roll back to the right. Rearing my head ever so slightly. The stiffness in my neck resisting my urge to look at the far right wall of the room. But I can’t help it. I need to know.
A wave of relief washes over me…
The wind. I can hear it clearly now: Its howl shrieks outside - and the tapping - twigs from the sycamore tree outside my window hitting against the pane.
A sigh passes between my lips.
Good god, there’s no relief tonight.
Get it together Tanvir, I think to myself. It’s important that I rest well.
I stare absentmindedly at the ceiling. Sleep won’t return for some time. While I decide which source of comfort to reach for - my phone or the book on the bedside table - a nauseating stench suddenly fills my nostrils.
A blend of rotten pork meat and dirty kitty litter petrifies the bedroom.
The urge to gag almost leaps out of my throat.
Something's not quite right here.
Then I hear it.
The steady rumble rises in the darkness. Like a growl of a wild beast before it pounces on its prey.
I carefully reach my hand out to the bedside table and grasp a mug in between my palms.
Staring back at the window, I lie in wait. My body suppresses the urge to move. I exhale with shallow breaths, ensuring that whatever is here cannot hear me.
The curtains are drawn, yet they waver as if a breeze has disturbed them. My eyes dart around the room - looking for anything that seems out of place. A breeze of air fades into the bedroom. Is the window open? Why do I feel a draft coming in?
The wind is my only companion; existing as a melancholic murmur in the distance.
I scrutinise my study desk tucked in the far right corner. There remains a dishevelled pile of revision material across its surface: text books, revision flashcards, highlighters and coloured pens all scattered in disarray from the late-night study session a few hours ago. My backpack sits nestled between the wall and the leg of the desk. Across the office chair hangs my coat – it lingers as a black spectre in the gloominess of the room.
My mind is freaking out for no goddamn reason.
There is nothing here, it’s just my imagination!, I think to myself.
Everything is normal. There’s nothing to fear.
Everything seems normal—
–Hold on a minute.
Something is askew.
I glance back at the study desk. My mouth is agape. There shouldn’t be a coat on the chair.
I hear the low rumble again. Whatever the hell it is, It’s growling…
I witness a flash of its eyes; they glow crimson in the shadows.
In the dim recesses of the bedroom, it remains perched on top of my chair. Staring at me.
I want to naively call out to the room, “Who’s there?” but the sentence chokes in my throat. The words themselves don’t want to be present in the room either.
Terror freezes me in place. Do I run to the door and get out? Or do I hide? Can I fight it? Do I pretend that I haven’t seen it?
I chose to remain docile.
Moments stretched out into agonising hours at a time. It remained near my desk, as if waiting for an opportunity.
Either one of us would break the silence first. I knew it would be me.
Suddenly, reckless courage spurred me into action: without thinking about it, I hastily turned on the lamp light and aimed the mug at the spot. However, I didn’t expect what happened next as the light on the bedside table flickered on.
In the blink of an eye, the black spectre vanished out of sight.
As my bloodshot eyes adjusted to the lighting, I realised that there was nothing here at all. But before I dispelled my suspicions, I got up and scanned every damn nook and cranny of the room: I peered underneath the bed, between the hanging clothes in the wardrobe, and even stared at the damned ceiling for some time.
I took a look in the full-length mirror between the door frame and the wardrobe. I could see the creases in my eyes and the heavy fog of fatigue weighing on me.
I didn’t need this tonight. My exam was in the morning.
I retreated back to bed.
A little while later, I hear a sound.
Scratch, scratch. Meow.
Damn it, Luna was trying to get in. I’d sort her out in the morning. Will nothing give me relief?
Still withdrawn into sleep, my mind half-awake from Luna’s excessive pawing at the door, I hear another sound: heavy breathing behind me.
But I’m unable to turn to look around.
My limbs are paralysed. I’m confined to the bed lying on my side. But my mind is awake and alert. Something is wrong.
There is something in the bedroom. And it’s right behind me.
Oh god, get up–get up–get up!
I can feel the black spectres' presence looming above me. The putrid smell of rotten meat returned.
Something heavy perches on top of me. But I’m on my side – Oh god, get up! – and I can't get up– Oh god, get up!– I can’t even open my eyes.
I’m helpless prey.
In the next moment an icy chill shivers down my spine. I feel the cold touch of its skin. It growls rumbling inside its throat. I hear it open its jaw wide. Pressure clamps down like a vice across my throat. Its sharp fangs sink into my flesh. I hear my skin ripping under its grip. Blood pools down my neck.
A whimper trembles between my lips.
Then shooting pain roars forth. Throughout my body, sirens bellow agony and torment. The black spectre guzzles the blood down. Steadily, its hands latched on to subdue me in place.
Yet, at that moment I kept believing This is not real Tanvir, it’s just a dream.
The black spectre bides its time. Feeding slowly, as if it were Indulging itself on me.
Darkness creeps into view, blotting out my vision.
***
Partial sunlight glints into the bedroom. Twilight has come to greet the dawn.
In a haze, I look around the room - everything seems normal. The black spectre from last night is nowhere to be seen.
Was it all a dream?, I wonder to myself.
Trying to rub the grogginess off my eyes, I attempt to rise slowly from bed. Drained from the restless night, I’m barely able to sit upright.
Yet, I feel a stiff pain in my neck. My hand instinctively reaches to relieve the tender pain. Something has dried on my skin. I glance at the mirror and turn my neck so I can get a better view. Two pricks etched into my throat. And dried blood. My bronze skin turned pallid overnight.
Disbelief takes hold.
I try to get up closer to the mirror… but before I realise it, I’ve collapsed onto the floor. I can’t move. As if all life has been drained out of me. I tried calling out to anyone, but only a hoarse voice clogged my throat. Barely a whimper of me remained.
Darkness creeps into view again.
In the distance, I thought I heard the chirping sounds of a bat…
I decided to experiment with tension in this short story. While the story may ultimately seem cliché, I wanted to provide evocative imagery and senses fresh in the reader’s mind. Please let me know if I’ve achieved that!
Day 3 - This piece was posted as part of the 31 Days of Content Challenge that I undertook in March 2022.