Writober Days 13 thru 17

Day 13: Shadowy Figure ripping open a Person’s Chest.

                It was hard to tell what someone was thinking, especially if they were arguing with themselves. Gerald sat on a bench in Hathorne Park, eating his Reuben and people watching. Most of the time it was fun coming up with back stories for the people walking in Hathorne Park while on their lunch. Gerald would sometime jot down these mini stories in his notebook for a possible story. Today was a little different.

                A man was pacing in front of Gerald, who was writing frantically, the man was scratching his arms and shaking his head. There was no voice coming from the man, but his lips were moving.

                Gerald paused in his writing, taking another bite of his sandwich. He couldn’t think of why the man was so agitated. He watched the man. The man was pulling at his shirt and there appeared to be tears in his eyes. A cloud passed overhead, dimming the light in the park. The man stopped, he suddenly ripped open his shirt and collapsed.

                                Gerald just sat there watching the man. Someone rushed up to the man and started CPR. He picked up his pencil and started writing again, scratching words onto the paper of his notebook, “there was a form standing over the still man. The form was humanoid, but with long nails that were dripping with blood. The still man’s chest was deeply scratched and was red. Gerald looked at the figure, it was looking at him. 

 

Day 14: Hands Playing the Piano; Keys become Hands Grabbing Back.

Saturday

                Halie sat at the piano in practice room 12. She shook her head as she stared at the sheet music in front of her. “There’s no way I’ll be able to play this for Friday’s concert” Flipping pages, “I don’t ever know arpeggios…”

                The clock on the wall clicked loudly to the next minute. “I only started learning this piece on Wednesday.” Her hands shook as she set her metronome; tap, tap, tap! The rhythm match her heart race, ”oh help me,” she whispered to the empty practice room. Her hands on the keys, “Help me…”

                She closed her eyes and began to play, swaying in time to the metronome. When she tried to open her eyes to see what the next part was, they were stuck fast. Panic seized Halie.

                “Just follow me,” a voice said in her ears.

                “What?” she asked.

                “Shhhh…Let it happen,” the voice said, and she felt hands upon her hands. They were guiding her fingers across the keyboard. “Just follow me,” the voice said. The music spilled out from the piano, dancing around her ears.

                At the last arpeggio, Halie felt her hands released, her eyes opened. She was alone. The clock clicked another minute.

Day 15: In a car, parked in an empty lot with creepy cat figures walking around.

                There was no reason why she was still sitting in the parking lot of the Safeway. The store was closed, and the lamppost lights were all on, yet she sat there with hands on her steering wheel, not moving.

                What compelled her to stare past the empty lot when the last employee had already left her alone in the parking lot. There was a fog rolling in. It wasn’t raining, but the air felt damp.

                She looked to her right, nothing, then to her left, not expecting anything to be there. There was a slight movement, her eyes caught it. A quick turn to see a figure trotting up to her car. She slammed her automatic locks: click, click! The figure continued to trot up to her car. It stopped right in front of her and smiled a large blank smile.

                She smiled back and the figure nodded. There was a rush of movement and a herd of figures rushed in, crossing in front of her car. The lead figure was a giant cat with black dead eyes, it is waiting patiently as the herd passed her car. It nodded again as the last figure passed and then trotted off.

                She blinked slowly, but the herd of dead eyed cats were gone. Her hand turned the keys and the engine turned over. “Time to go,” she said.

Day 16: Hands coming out of a fridge.

                I learned a hard lesson once.

                It was after a dinner party with friends, were like a potluck with a little bit of everything. It was the best time, but man, was it a hard lesson. We played Cards Against the World and hastily made cocktails. Everyone brough so much food that there were leftovers.

                It was late when I stumbled home, practically falling into my apartment and ruining the leftovers. I grabbed at the fridge door, sliding the tub of chicken wings into the middle of the shelf. That was until three weeks later…

 

3:04 am.

 

                I heard shuffling downstairs. No one was home at the time except me and I was wide awake. The shuffling came from the kitchen. Grabbing an umbrella, I snuck downstairs, at the bottom of the stairs I saw a dim light reach around the corner. It was louder as I came down the stairs.

                I peeked around the corner and saw long claws coming out from the fridge’s dim light. “Shit,” I said, louder than I thought as the shuffling started to come towards me. “Those chicken wings went really bad.”

                I closed my eyes, hoping for a miracle.

 

Day 17: Laundry Machine filled with blood; Figure sitting on the Washing Machine with Red Eyes.

                I hate laundry day, especially when I must bundle up seven loads and take them down three flights of stairs to the laundry room in the basement. Thankfully it doesn’t cost me a single quarter to do my laundry like my friends’ buildings do.

                Of course, I always decide I need clean underwear at midnight. So, here I am lugging seven loads down three flights to the basement to clean my unmentionables.

                I have to fumble for the light switch, which is about three feet into  the laundry room. It is quiet except for the furnace running quietly in the corner. Setting down my hamper and large laundry bag at the doorway, I walked into the laundry room, about three feet, feeling for the switch.

                CLICK!

                There is front of me, sitting on the washing machine is a woman, reading a magazine. “Sorry,” I said, “I didn’t realize anyone else was up. She turned to me, her eyes were glowing red. “I, I, um….I didn’t realize the machine was busy.”

                I moved so fast out of the laundry room and up three flights of stairs, slamming my door with a thud. “I didn’t see that. I didn’t see THAT!” I said as I sat on my bed.

                I don’t remember anything else, except that my laundry was washed, dried, and folded right outside my door.