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blasted chipmunk Registered: 09/18/03 Posts: 8,272 |
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Shadow Puppets
I sit here sweating in perpetual light, afraid to sleep, afraid to eat, afraid to do anything. Tomorrow, I intend on breaking the stalemate with this creature that hunts me. Whether real or imagined, we find out tomorrow. Let this document stand either as ramblings of a madman or a record of my final night on this Earth. It started two years ago. I kept getting an uneasy feeling. You know, the sort of feeling you get before a loved one dies. It started to interrupt me at work. While working the phones doing technical support, I would feel the weight on my back of someone staring intently at me, only to turn and face an empty room. Out of the corners of my eyes, I would catch a glimpse of movement but could never quite seem to find whatever seemed to be stalking me. It only happened at work and became more and more menacing. Eventually I started calling in sick more and more often. Only in the sanctuary of my own home did I feel safe, did I feel in control. My last day at work terrified me. I felt that gaze yet again but fought the urge to turn and see nothing. The hairs on the back of my neck rose to meet the cold breath. A chill ran down my spine and into my legs before it froze my feet to the bone. I jumped up, turning my small cubicle computer desk over in the process, to greet the nothingness that haunted my days. The only being that took notice was the security camera in the corner next to the stairs that lead down to the smoking area. I knew, KNEW that something was there stalking me. I went to the security desk at the main entrance and demanded to see the video from that camera. Mike, the elderly security man, said it was against company policy to show footage to employees. I said, “Mike, you are a fine elderly gentleman. You have always been kind to me. We are the only people on this floor.” I rifled through my wallet. “I have $247 here in my hand. If you will show me the tape of my desk for the last hour, it is all yours.” I knew that was about fifty bucks short of his weekly salary. I guess he did too. He pulled a tape from a machine bank behind the desk and sent me to a side room. He told me to view it there in privacy. I think more to cover his ass than give me any sense of privacy. There I was on this little black and white screen. Drinking my coffee and chatting on the phone. The screen flickered. Static. Nothing but God damned static. When the picture came back, it is my desk overturned with the computer on the floor. I took the tape to Mike and asked him to view it. “I can't.” He said. “My boss is in the building now. Thanks for returning it to me so fast. I would get fired if anyone knew I let you see this.” Fine. I dropped the tape, handed him my security badge, and walked out the front door. It was the last time I set foot in that building. On the way home, I stopped at the grocery store and filled up two carts with cat food, canned foods and powdered drink mix. Easily enough to last me and Chairman Meow the next few months. I also picked up toilet paper, cleaning chemicals, medical supplies, a handful of books, and filled the car up with gas in case I had to drive myself to the emergency room. That should do it, I thought to myself. No reason to leave the house until I get this thing figured out. Once at home, I carried everything inside and shut the door, not knowing that I wouldn't open it again for 74 days. I do love this modern world in which we live. With a little money in the bank and a decent debit card, a person can order anything, pay bills, make friends... hell... live an entire life without ever leaving the comfort of a favorite easy chair. Step One was to cut all superfluous expenditures. No need for cable tv. The internet provided everything I needed. Want to watch a tv program? Download it. No need to heat or cool this big old house. I shut off every room of the house other than the living room, kitchen, and bathroom. I didn't even use my bedroom anymore. I took to falling asleep on the couch so I could still chat with my wireless keyboard. It's amazing how fast time passes in this manner. This manner of doing nothing yet remaining completely busy at all times. Only I, my online friends, and possibly federal employees enjoy the true knowledge of that feeling. I heard a knock on the front door in the late evening after about two and a half months. It was my sister all puffy eyed and spent. "Mom died," she said, "Viewing is tomorrow at 3pm and the funeral will be the following day at noon." I invited her in for a drink. "Sorry for the state of disarray the house is in." I said. She looked around puzzled. "I had to cut costs so I am only using a small space in the house." "What happened to you?" She asks. "Tammi said you flipped out destroying your cubicle and never went back to work." "The stress must had been getting to me." I said. Either way she could see that I was happy and fully functional now. I chalk that one up to her being blinded by grief. She said Mom died peacefully in her sleep of a massive aneurysm. I didn't want to talk about it. We made small talk for about an hour and she left. I did laundry and shaved off my beard. Couldn't go to my own mother's funeral looking a mess. The morning sun flooded the foyer as I took a deep breath. Whatever demons had haunted me were left at work that day, I told myself. I stepped out into the light. What a strange feeling. When a person is shut into the dark for such a long time without contact with sunlight, the skin gets a bit tender. I could almost feel the solar radiation baking my skin. At least it was October instead of the end of July. I don't think I could have withstood the summer heat. The viewing went well, I guess. As well as could be expected. Everyone had the same reaction upon first seeing the body. Everyone gave a little chuckle. The girl that does the makeup for the recently deceased obviously has a much better handle on modern styles that the elderly. Mom could have been in Grannies With Guitars with that hair and makeup job. Maybe the makeup artist does it on purpose to lighten the mood. Either way, it made the whole ordeal much more bearable. After the viewing, everyone met at Mom's house for dinner and stories. And by dinner and stories, I mean drinking. Lots and lots of drinking. It was nice to see everyone again after so many years. Sis was three sheets to the wind, but her husband was doing a good job taking care of her and I took the kids outside to keep them entertained. In the light of the setting sun, we made shadow puppets on the side of the house. I don't mean to toot my own horn, but I am a brilliant shadow puppeteer. I started off teaching the kids how to make a goose neck and head, then moved on to a Doberman and finally a bird. Then I pulled out the big guns. I made a shadow puppet of Charles Barkley doing what he does best, talking smack to an unseen opponent. Then a full rabbit eating grass. Totally engrossed, I was happy to see the swan that I taught earlier appear on the wall. The swan started to nibble at the rabbit. With each nibble, I removed more and more of the rabbit thinking the kids would enjoy such an illusion. The chill hit my spine and I froze with terror eyes trained on the wall. The swan tucked it's head in and started to grow in size, morphing into what looked like a man wearing a trench coat. I dropped the rabbit. The trench coated silhouette reached out to the shadow of my own body, piercing my chest. My heart ached. I collapsed with the sound of car doors slamming and the hand of my brother-in-law taking me by the arm. “Hey, are you ok?” He asked. “You have been here staring at this wall for almost an hour.” He tried to take stock of me, but assumed I had more to drink. I looked at the minivan to the kids all waving me from the rear windows. "How long has it been since the kids and I were making shadow puppets." I asked. He responded that nearly an hour had passed since they came in from the cold. I told him that, indeed, I was a bit too intoxicated and gave him that patented smile of mine. The smile of lies. He once again gave me condolences for losing my mother and joined his family in the minivan. Terror. Had the creature I had eluded for these few months found me again? I don't really remember the drive home. I am pretty sure I left my finger prints on the steering wheel, though. The door slammed shut and locked tight. Everything I need is here. Maybe I can figure out a way to make money on the internet. Lots of other people do it. Why not me? Surely Mom left me a sizable inheritance that would last me until I am up on my feet. I sat down at the computer to see if I could find anyone else with similar experiences. Maybe they could shed some light on my situation. I drifted in and out of sleep on the couch, not quite understanding how I got to it from my chair. Then I heard a sound the broke the warm dark blanket of blissful sleep. It sounded like a hand slowly sliding down a balloon followed by a very quick high pitched squeal. It couldn't have lasted for more than a tenth of a second. I stayed lying there for as long as I could take it with my eyes closed. I felt something moving around the room. Felt, not heard. This thing never makes a sound. I could not take it anymore. I shot forward into a sitting position on the couch, seeing the thing, as always, move out of my peripheral vision. I picked up the only thing I had handy... my wireless keyboard. Poised like a great ball player ready to knock one into the upper deck, I moved through the living room finding nothing. The kitchen also checked out fine. Finally I made my way to the bathroom. There I found a horror. I found Chairman Meow... both of him. On one side was his skin, in tact, and turned inside out. On the side of the bathroom next to the toilet, at the end of a three foot blood trail, was the rest of him. I cried at the thought of my kitty, with no skin, trying to drag himself along the floor to safety. I slumped to the floor crying. Once I regained composure I carefully put my beloved kitty in a tin foil baking dish, skin and all, took him out back to the patio, doused him with gasoline, and set him on fire. If people found him in the terrible condition I did, they would suspect that I did this horrible act, so I sent him off like a Viking hero. Once the flames died down, I put him into a trash bag to send off on Tuesday morning with everything else. I should have buried him. I still feel bad about that, but I couldn't be outside for the required time to do it. It might come back. I carried him back inside so the neighborhood dogs wouldn't dig him out of the trash pile and put the bag just inside the back door. After turning into the kitchen, I saw the shadow figure again moving out of view into the hall that goes to the living room. Every time I passed a light switch, I turned it on. I have seen enough horror movies to know that evil haunts the shadows. I started the cleanup, first washing the floor in the bathroom. Then I washed the bathroom floor again. I could have washed it with tears. After finishing the third wash, I sat back trembling in the light. Light from everywhere. If I had a light in the house, it was on. I went to wash my hands in the sink and screamed. I mean screamed like a little girl. In the sink was my mother's favorite wood handled knife. The one she used to cut potatoes. The wood handle was stained red with blood as was the rest of the knife. So that is why I saw the shadow when returning to the interior of the house. It is going to drive me crazy if it can't kill me. It planted the knife to make me think I could have done such an act. Well, there is no way. I love that cat. I love it as much as any person I have ever known. There is no way I could have done it. NO WAY. One day just after New Years, my own shadow turned on me. You never really realize it, but when you have many lights on all around you, you cast many shadows. The thing must have learned that this was the only way it could get to me now. I caught it sneaking up on me as I stared to doze off. That is when I built the contraption. The contraption is made from a lamp, pieces of a hard hat, miscellaneous pieces of other house hold things. Tape. Lots of tape. And an extension chord. It is a perpetual light hat that shines directly over me. the only shadow it casts is down. And if i sit in my easy chair, there is no shadow at all. Sure, there are shadows everywhere else in the room, but there is a protective halo of perfect light all around me. That used in parallel with all the amphetamines one can easily purchase over the internet and I have a perfect situation. Well, had a perfect situation. No shadows, no sleep. Over four hundred and fifty days have passed in this state and Mom's money has run out. I am two months overdue on my electric bill and tomorrow it is getting turned off. At least the amphetamines made it this long, though I just emptied the last of the bottle. I don't know how long I will be able to defend myself from the encroaching shadows or even what damage they can do to me, but I get the tingling on my neck. To whomever reads this. Do not look into the shadows. You might just see what is looking back. -------------------- No, no, you're not thinking, you're just being logical. ~ Niels Bohr
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blasted chipmunk Registered: 09/18/03 Posts: 8,272 |
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Edited the story to add some plot points and clean typos and whatnot.
-------------------- No, no, you're not thinking, you're just being logical. ~ Niels Bohr
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blasted chipmunk Registered: 09/18/03 Posts: 8,272 |
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shamelessly, i moved this to the pub. i fear that the good people in the art forum are too enamored with brevity to read such a long post. let's see if the pub suffers a similar affliction.
-------------------- No, no, you're not thinking, you're just being logical. ~ Niels Bohr
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