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by Chama C. Fox - Jan 17, 2005 "Most people can't see them, but there are monsters everywhere. Many of them can hurt you. Some of them can even kill you… They don't hide in the shadows; they are the shadows. They can sneak up on you at night, when you least expect it. The dark alley no-one ever comes out of, the deep shadow of the church in moonlight, the disappearances after midnight..." The phone rent the comfortable silence in my office, interrupting my review of his case. Startled, I put down the notebook and picked up the receiver. It was him. "Help me! It's getting worse! This time, they're almost through. They're..." There was a deep distress in his voice, bordering on outright panic. I had never heard him so agitated before. He was pleading for a rescue that would take years to achieve. But he needed it now, desperately. I leaned my forehead against my free hand and tried to think of words to calm him. "It's alright. Just whatever you do, don't run from them. That'd make them real to you. Remember that they don't exist. They're just in your head. If you stand against them, you'll find that they can't touch you." "I can't. I can't. They'll kill me! I can hear them now, howling, screeching, digging their way through the walls. They'll break through this time..." Always the monsters. He could describe them in minute detail, each more wraithlike than the other, all fitting together in a marvelously consistent delusion. It didn't matter that nobody else could see them. Ever since his parents died, he could. To him, they were always there, sniffing at the edges of perception, and now they were breaking through. "No they won't! I can prove to you, they don't exist. I need you to unlock the door." "Are you crazy? They'll come through for sure!" "You must do it now, or your fear will own you." "I can't. I…" "Do it, or I won't save you!" I screamed at him. There was a moment of silence, and I could hear hesitant, shuffling steps, underlined by a monotone howling and scratching noise. There was a click and then the sound of a door, and then... He screamed and screamed and screamed. It was silent when I arrived at the house, half an hour later. Only the wind lingered, whining around every nook and cranny, playing its eerie concert all around me. There was the house, the door ajar and walls full of scratches, surely from branches that had been caught by the wind and hitting the building. Strangely though, many of them looked like claw marks... There he lay on the floor, curled up, dead. He hadn't fled. Not this time. He had stood his ground until the monsters engulfed him and his heart stopped. I now know the truth. There are monsters out there. Many of them can hurt you. Some of them can even kill you. I am one of them. |