Eyes
Posted by Shawn Romance
A quick dash through the woods, and the figure was gone. There was only the silence remaining. Paul’s heart was racing, and his cigarette had snapped in two. “Is it safe to look?” he wondered.
As if someone just flicked on the lights in the dead of night; Paul could only see those bright, piercing eyes as he closed his lids. There was a new moon and the malignant gaze was the only thing with life. It was not until he heard the twig crack that he realized there was danger. The snap had startled both sets of eyes, but only one fled.
“What was that thing?”
Paul knew his roommates would think he was hallucinating; they had already pegged him for a schizo. There was no way they would believe what he just saw. As he walked through the back door, he attempted to wipe the astonishment off of his face. The eyes were still blinking in the back of his mind.
A shower was in order; he began to undress and stared at himself in the mirror. He dove into the shower and the water relaxed him immediately. He must have been daydreaming, just a freak-out that’s all. Due to the high powered showerhead, he failed to hear the steps falling on the back stairway. Paul began to lather his arms when the eyes appeared through the window; the steam was disguising their presence. A few minutes had passed and Paul began to recover from the incident, and laugh at his foolishness.
The darkness occurred suddenly. Paul opened up the shower door, and turned off the water. He yelled to his roommates to see what had happened. They yelled back saying that the circuit breaker must be acting up again. The timeliness of this event startled Paul. There is no way that this was just a freak coincidence; he leaped out of the shower but missed the shower mat in his haste. He nearly fell but was able to brace himself on the sink. Without the moon or the power, the back hall was entirely void of light. His roommates had quieted after finding a few candles in the living room. Paul didn’t feel like walking around in his towel, but he had to do it. He marched into the living room and saw that the whole block was dark. “Stupid power company”, he muttered.
Paul had already forgotten the eyes. He was thinking to himself that if the whole block lost power then there was nothing to fear. As he walked down the back hallway he felt something brush up against his leg. “Shit”, he screamed. Then he heard the familiar purr of the cat. “Damn bastard”, he mumbled, eased that it was only the old, lovable Mittens. He turned the corner and stumbled into his bedroom. The darkness was unbearable but he could manage, he was used to waking up and pissing in the middle of the night.
He snapped open his dresser and it creaked with a thousand moving stories to tell. Paul fumbled for a shirt and a pair of boxers. He blinks in the darkness and the blood rushes to his feet. His brain is telling him to run, but he knows there’s nothing to fear. He finds it funny that those eyes are still plastered to the back of his eyelids. He then realizes that his eyes are open, and the mirror in front of him isn’t in the mood for lies. Those same evil, bright yellow eyes are resting in the chair behind him. However, this time there are no twigs to give them away.
A quick dash through the woods, and the figure was gone. There was only the silence remaining. Paul’s heart was racing, and his cigarette had snapped in two. “Is it safe to look?” he wondered.
As if someone just flicked on the lights in the dead of night; Paul could only see those bright, piercing eyes as he closed his lids. There was a new moon and the malignant gaze was the only thing with life. It was not until he heard the twig crack that he realized there was danger. The snap had startled both sets of eyes, but only one fled.
“What was that thing?”
Paul knew his roommates would think he was hallucinating; they had already pegged him for a schizo. There was no way they would believe what he just saw. As he walked through the back door, he attempted to wipe the astonishment off of his face. The eyes were still blinking in the back of his mind.
A shower was in order; he began to undress and stared at himself in the mirror. He dove into the shower and the water relaxed him immediately. He must have been daydreaming, just a freak-out that’s all. Due to the high powered showerhead, he failed to hear the steps falling on the back stairway. Paul began to lather his arms when the eyes appeared through the window; the steam was disguising their presence. A few minutes had passed and Paul began to recover from the incident, and laugh at his foolishness.
The darkness occurred suddenly. Paul opened up the shower door, and turned off the water. He yelled to his roommates to see what had happened. They yelled back saying that the circuit breaker must be acting up again. The timeliness of this event startled Paul. There is no way that this was just a freak coincidence; he leaped out of the shower but missed the shower mat in his haste. He nearly fell but was able to brace himself on the sink. Without the moon or the power, the back hall was entirely void of light. His roommates had quieted after finding a few candles in the living room. Paul didn’t feel like walking around in his towel, but he had to do it. He marched into the living room and saw that the whole block was dark. “Stupid power company”, he muttered.
Paul had already forgotten the eyes. He was thinking to himself that if the whole block lost power then there was nothing to fear. As he walked down the back hallway he felt something brush up against his leg. “Shit”, he screamed. Then he heard the familiar purr of the cat. “Damn bastard”, he mumbled, eased that it was only the old, lovable Mittens. He turned the corner and stumbled into his bedroom. The darkness was unbearable but he could manage, he was used to waking up and pissing in the middle of the night.
He snapped open his dresser and it creaked with a thousand moving stories to tell. Paul fumbled for a shirt and a pair of boxers. He blinks in the darkness and the blood rushes to his feet. His brain is telling him to run, but he knows there’s nothing to fear. He finds it funny that those eyes are still plastered to the back of his eyelids. He then realizes that his eyes are open, and the mirror in front of him isn’t in the mood for lies. Those same evil, bright yellow eyes are resting in the chair behind him. However, this time there are no twigs to give them away.
This entry was posted by Ben Myers, on
Friday, June 09, 2006.
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