Samhainophobia
I awoke to the sound of Sad But True by Metallica rocking through my alarm clock, and to the wish that the night was a few hours longer so that my slumber could have lasted just that little bit more. While I was thinking about this I heard James Hetfield sing "sad but true" for the final time before the music faded out. Realising that I had already been lying there for 5 minutes doing nothing, I thought that I'd best get up and get ready for work. So I went about my morning routine as normal, but when I stepped outside and looked around it hit me. It was October 31st, Halloween. Fuck!
I hate Halloween. Ever since I was a kid I hated Halloween, and my older brother Justin knew this, and always tried to scare the shit out of me, but I never knew why I hated it. All I knew was that every year, I always had the worst feeling of dread come over me on this day. Just a feeling of pure terror. But there was no reason for this. I don't remember anything bad ever happening to me on Halloween. But it is what it is, and I just had to get on with it, with the knowledge that today wasn't going to be a very good day.
So I continued on like any normal day getting in my Monaro and driving the 45 minute journey to work, but while driving, I kept on glimpsing a dark figure out of the corner of my eye. It was really starting to freak me out, so I pulled to the side of the road and tried to calm myself down. Sitting there in my car, I realised how ridiculous I was being. I was just getting myself worked up over nothing.
So after scolding myself for being so stupid, I started the car back up and sat there for a minute just listening to the V8 rumble. After feeling sufficiently calmed down, I pulled back onto the road to complete my commute to work. Even when I arrived, I was still feeling a bit wary but I just told myself I was being paranoid, and got on with the day, trying to ignore the growing sense of unease.
All throughout the morning I kept getting the feeling of eyes on me, and of being followed. The harder I tried to ignore it, the worse it got, to the point where my boss noticed me looking around with a worried look on my face all the time. He asked me if something was wrong. I tried to play it off as nothing, but I'm not a very good liar, and he saw right through me. He gave me direct orders to go home, get my head straightened out, and come back in tomorrow focused and in the right frame of mind, or it was my job.
So now I was in danger of being sacked over this, but I didn't even know what "this" was. I was really starting to get angry with myself for letting it get to me so much, but then I saw it. I was walking to my car, muttering to myself how stupid this whole situation was, when I noticed it. Off in the distance, across the road, just standing there next to a old abandoned building. Staring at me. I couldn't move. I was frozen with fear. Then, a truck drove past and it disappeared. I ran to my car as fast as I could, started it up, threw it in gear, and sped out of there at a rate of knots.
I was speeding all the way home. Running red lights. I almost t-boned a guy. I only just stopped in time. I was absolutely terrified, and not thinking straight. When my house came into view, the relief was palpable. I pulled into my driveway, jumped out, and rushed inside. I ran around the house, making sure all the doors and windows were locked, grabbed a knife, and holed myself up in my bedroom. I just sat there for a few hours, jumping at every little noise I heard.
After about three hours of this, I had managed to calm myself down considerably. I was still on edge, but more rational now. I looked outside and noticed it was getting dark. I thought about it for a minute, and came to the conclusion that I didn't want kids egging my house, so I filled a bowl with candy, wrote a note to take one, and went about setting it up out the front. When I opened the front door there it was. Right across the street. Looking at me. I dropped the bowl. Slammed the door and locked it. Then grabbed the knife. Now by this point, I was sick of being hunted. I started making a plan. If this fucker wanted to take me out, I sure as hell wasn't going to make it easy for it. If I was going down, I was going down swinging. I got ready, and was sitting in my living room, waiting, knife in hand for any noise that might tip me off to its presence.
I had been waiting for hours for any sign that this wasn't just my imagination. It was about 10:30 now, and nothing had happened, and I was really starting to think this whole thing was in my head, when I heard banging. First at the front door, then at the back, then on the windows. I was ready for this. But everything stopped. For about 5 minutes there was nothing. Then I looked out the window and saw it run past.
It was running towards the back door, so I charged over, ready to confront it. I ripped open the door. Nothing. I stuck my head outside, and just caught a glimpse of it running down the side of the house to the front. So I scurried to the front door, tore it open, and again. Nothing. Then realising I had left the back door open, I rushed back across the house, slammed it shut and locked it.
I knew I was to late. It was in the house now. I was sure of it, and I was on the back foot. I was creeping around the house, looking in every nook and cranny. I looked through the living room, the kitchen, the bathroom. Nothing. It had to be in my bedroom. So I crept up to the door, summoned all my courage, and burst through the door to find... nothing. I couldn't understand it. There weren't many places in my house to hide. I was feeling defeated, when I heard a crash.
It came from the living room. I stood for a second, stealing my nerves and trying to regain my composure. This was it. Showtime. I braced myself, and headed to the living room. There it was. Standing there. Looking at me. A sick smile on its face. We both just stood there for a moment, in a sort of Mexican stand off. It started laughing. That was it. I rushed it. It dove out of the way of my knife. It was very quick and agile. I heard it make a noise that resembled distorted speech. I couldn't focus on that. I was too preoccupied trying to kill this thing. I went for its throat, but it dodged again, and this time it grabbed me from behind.
We were struggling for the knife. I had a pretty good grip on it, but it was starting to pry it away from me. I stomped on its foot, to try and get it to let go, but it wouldn't. Then it pulled my hand up over my shoulder, and finally managed to overpower me, and win control of the knife. Although while doing this, the force it was using to break my grip on the knife, ended up forcing the knife back into its own neck.
It let me go instantly. I was relieved to get away from its grip for the moment. I turned around to defend myself from its attack, when I noticed the knife in its throat. I breathed a huge sigh of relief, until I noticed a bit of skin peeking through on its neck. On closer inspection I could tell it was wearing a mask. I pulled the mask over its head to find the face of my brother staring back at me.
Credited to The Iceman
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