David

A Story by Brittany

This short story was based on a reoccurring dream that my grandfather, whose name was in fact David, has had his entire life.

David sat down in the breakroom and pulled a hefty sandwich out of his lunch box. About time. He was hungry, ravenous actually, and couldn’t wait for that first… “Hey man” his supervisor sat down at the table beside him. Boss man already had that apologetic look, so David figured he knew what was coming. “Old Mike called in to the office, he’s gonna be late tonight and I really need someone on the panel I can trust; think you can stay over?” David’s shoulders slumped. Lord new he was exhausted. These days he felt like work was the only life he had anymore. He was hot, sweaty, tired, and ready for a hot meal. He glanced at his boss and rubbed his face slowly. “I know it’s been a long day already Dave, the new kid is doin’ alright, but I just really want someone on those gauges that knows what they’re doin’…ya know?” He felt himself actually considering the idea… What else did he have going for him anyway? he thought. Bigger paycheck, no wife at home to nag, what could it really hurt? “Time and a half?” He asked with a heavy sigh, eyeballing his supervisor. “Sure thing Dave, and I guess you’ll need to take an extra thirty for lunch” He started to get up out of his chair and paused before walking away “…hey, I really appreciate it man.” David leaned back in his creaky plastic seat, and let out a long, deep sigh. It was going to be a lengthy day for sure, but hey, the money never hurt he guessed. He took a huge bite, gave a thumbs up and, mouth full, said “You got it boss.”

By the time he sauntered through the stuffy office to punch out David was more than ready to be home. His ears were ringing from the constant noise of the machinery and the beeping of the panel, he was bone-tired; having been here since five this morning, he smelled terrible, AND he was starving again. “Catch ya tomorrow fellas.” He rasped, as he gave a short, half-hearted wave to some of the worn looking guys that had filed in behind him, and headed out the door. Finally OUTTA here. He had really only started working here because his pops had worked here, the refinery wasn’t so bad though; it was enough. And so he had stayed, and been here ever since. As he exited the front gate and stepped out onto the street he couldn’t help but notice the full roundness of the moon overhead; while he made his way to the corner bust stop. It was a sketchy little stop with a swastika tagged on the bench. F****n’ neo-Nazi b******s, David thought to himself. They had started making their presence around here more known than David cared for, and there was really nothing to be done about it. They were like cockroaches, he told himself. Never bold enough to make a fuss during the day are they, just sneaking around at night painting pictures in the dark…like the cowards they were. But the moon was nice tonight at least, he told himself, very nice. And then he waited.

When David walked up the steps of the grimy city bus it was nearly empty. The air inside it held the residual smell of body odor, and had a distinctively stale feeling. He cringed a little…this wasn’t routine for him. His car had broken down yesterday, so here he was taking the bus instead. The occupants numbered a mere three or four people; all of whom looked like they had seen better days. Most of them wore the tattered dirty apparel that would indicate homelessness and he guessed the bus was just a warm place to stay the night… Probably safer than a bench anyhow. Outside the scratched and dingy windows was darkness. The moon, which had been shining brightly, was now being overtaken by a thick cloud cover. All was quiet. The air was still. Then a light in the back of the bus flickered, and a haggard woman somewhere near the back coughed, breaking the silence like glass. He walked down the well-trodden aisle to find a fairly isolated seat, nodding silently to a man as he passed. David looked out of his window, but all he could see was the vague outline of the full moon and a pale blanket of mist.

Earlier that day had been perfectly ordinary as far as David was concerned. He'd gotten up, made some toast and had a couple of cups of coffee. Always black coffee, none of that sissy s**t. Black coffee would put hair on your chest, at least that’s what his pops always said. Work went like it usually did too, besides the overtime. David worked down at the Shell refinery. It was a nasty job, and it called for long days, but it was good pay. It was a man’s job. But now, all the ordinary had faded and an almost eerie feeling had settled over the night; although he wouldn't have been able to explain why. David had never been an overly superstitious person, nor had he ever been easily unnerved. Well, except for that incident when they were kids…that damn statue. He wasn’t sure that he really believed it was supernatural, not now that he was grown. Maybe it was just group hysteria and childhood imagination. Who the hell knew? Other than that David had always been an easy going, go-with-the-flow kind of guy. But for some reason he couldn't shake the feeling that something just wasn't quite right. He sat back in his cold, creaky seat convincing himself that he just wasn't used to taking the late night bus...

The squealing voice of the brakes broke David’s train of thought as the bus slowly rolled to a halt. Damn, this is my stop. It occurred to him then that, at some point, the bus had begun giving him some remote sense of security, not a feeling one usually gets from an 11 o'clock bus, especially when it’s only other occupants looked like derelicts. On the other hand, the thought of walking home tonight wasn't very appealing all of a sudden, specifically walking home alone. That small amount of discomfort surprised him, probably because in reality it bordered more on fear. As he stood waiting to get off the bus he noticed the driver, a round and greying man, give a nervous look about before opening the doors. ”You just take it easy tonight.” He said with an almost nervous air. Apparently, the uneasy feeling David had wasn't an isolated one. As soon as he stepped down onto the cracked cement the doors snapped impatiently behind him. Goodnight to you too, David thought. And he gave a second glance at the bus as it rumbled on... The harsh yellow lights flickered again and this time they went out. All of them. He looked down shaking his head, running his fingers through his mess of coal black hair. Strange...

---

As he walked on down the sidewalk everything seemed fairly normal, naturally, and he was beginning to feel pretty damn ridiculous about his whole mood on the bus. That is, until he turned the corner onto his quiet neighborhood street. It was always quiet he supposed. But this was different, it was too quiet. The atmosphere here on Halifax Way was one of total abandonment. There wasn't a car in sight on the whole dammed street, except for one truck; some sort of work truck he thought. It had one of those big racks on the back…for ladders. And tool boxes in the bed. A little rusty but otherwise pretty sturdy looking. It was parked halfway up on a lawn with the driver side door partially open. The dome light was left on, creating a creepy glow in stark contrast with the night...as if it had been left by someone in the midst of a panic, or just some drunk a*****e who doesn't know when to call a cab. He told himself the latter was more likely. Wasn't it?

David zipped up his jacket as he continued on, the same black, cracked leather jacket he'd been wearing since nineteen-eighty-something. He’d picked it up in high school; it made him pretty cool back then. But its glory days were long gone now…hell, so were his. At least that’s what he told himself most of the time. He saw his breath on the air and he shivered. The temperature had dropped now. It had already been chilly out tonight, but now it was just plain cold. He saw that breath on the air, for the first time in his life, for what it actually was. A piece of life...leaving his lips and dissipating, unmissed, into the frigid emptiness of the dark night. It was a morbid thought and David wasn’t entirely sure where it had come from. All he knew was that he felt very vulnerable out here on the street, in a proverbial ghost town. Where'd everyone go? He kept walking on, there had to be a perfectly reasonable explanation for it. Probably some sort of holiday this weekend or something, things like that always seemed to slip his mind. His brothers were scattered and he had no family of his own, what did he care about s**t like that. Yeah, that was probably it.

But it didn't explain the crows. The telephone lines over David’s house were full of them. Probably thirty or forty of the damn things. And they were all sitting stark still and STARING. Were they staring AT him? Get a grip man, they're just birds, he thought. Some squirrel or something probably got hit in the road and attracted them earlier. It would have been less unsettling, however, had there been a murder of crows in front of any of the other houses. But there weren't, just his. Give me a break. What is this, some two bit, B-rated, horror flick? “Get out of here, shoo!" But they just stared. Their beady black eyes bore into him, and for a moment they held him there, transfixed. David was just standing there staring back at this oddity when a sound, unnatural and yet strikingly familiar, sent a tidal wave of shivers down his spine. It was startling and guttural. A howling horror in the stillness around him.

Anyone who likes a good horror flick now and again may have had some inkling as to what it sounded like. And David, who prided himself on being a warehouse of knowledge on the macabre, the supernatural and the plainly horrific, knew exactly what it sounded like to HIM. He’d spent countless nights watching horrors, from the classics to the cheesy gore-fests of the modern cinema. Werewolves don't exist, they aren't real. He could have kicked himself in the a*s for even entertaining the idea long enough to tell himself NOT to entertain it, no matter how briefly. He knew it was asinine, yet it terrified him all the same. All the hair on his body stood right up on end as gooseflesh erupted all over his body. That sound had sent him to an almost entirely instinctual place, where all he wanted to do was run...but he wasn't sure if he could.

What if it saw him and gave chase? What if WHAT sees him? If WHAT gives chase? Pull yourself together brother, it’s just a damn dog or something. The logical parts of his brain were fighting for control of the situation. It was only a few yards to the front door of his house. The same house they had grown up in, the house where “the incident” had occurred, Christ’s sake David, don’t think of that crap right now. And then he'd have to get the screen door open and the door unlocked. The simple act of inserting a key into a lock and turning it had never seemed more difficult nor time consuming. But, trying would be better than being pounced on from behind without giving it so much as a fighting chance. A fighting chance, that's a real knee-slapper David. But, the only conclusion David could come to was that he shouldn't have gotten off the bus.

It was too late for that now, he HAD gotten off the bus; so now was a good time to be in the house. He cautiously and shakily raised his foot, and then slowly set it back down to earth. How desperately he wanted to move his all too suddenly lame legs. But he just couldn't. Maybe if he just stood still whatever it was wouldn’t even notice him. It was a child’s hope. What won’t notice you? For Christs sake David move your damn feet, there is nothing out here... He told himself he was being ridiculous, and still this base level fear was overpowering his common sense. He took a step. One slow...fearful step. Just one. Because at that moment he heard it yet again, and much closer this time. That wicked howling. Shivers flooded every inch of his flesh.

It had been cold that night, no doubt, but it was different now. It was that sound. It was that horrible, wretched noise. One that made him feel utterly helpless and alone. And he WAS alone, wasn’t he? Isolated completely on a once lively street that had turned desolate. A sound that could freeze warm blood right in its veins, and still a restless soul. "For the love of life itself David, get in the God damned house!" He scolded himself; the sound of his own voice making him jump. And then again, closer still...maybe even across the street. "My God..." he whispered out loud. “It’s getting closer." David ran. No more debating, just running. Whatever it was that was out here, he was no match for. Of that, David was certain.

---

The putrid smell of death and decay is an overpowering one, to say the least. It came from torn and rotting flesh lodged between disgusting, crooked, pointed teeth. Dark teeth, stained teeth. Teeth stained with...well, he didn't think he wanted to know. It could have been the dog from down the road, the perfect family pet. The one that sits in your lap after supper, and wards off strangers who come too close to the children playing in the yard. The one that had been let out to take a whiz and then BAM...goner. He could just imagine it, throat torn out with blood and s**t everywhere. Don’t think that. Or what if...what if it was that kid a few houses down. What if he kicked that new soccer ball he got a little too hard while he was playing outside after dinner, and what if he had to wander a little too far to get it... It could be a little old lady who was running late with her errands and had to walk home from the bus a little later, and darker than she was used too...just like him. Every synapse in his brain was firing and he was being flooded with not just horrific visions of his hunted neighbors, but of his own life, and eventual slaughter. It’s incredible how many thoughts, how many memories, we can go through in such a minute amount of time.

Not only was the smell repulsive, the breath that carried it was hot. Not warm, hot...and thick, and sticky. The sudden wave of putridity came from his left side, accompanied by a giant black mass. It was like nothing David had ever encountered before, it gagged him instantly and made him vomit. This was no dog. No sir. Gods be damned…He should have run. Why didn’t he just run…? David didn't have much time to worry about bad breath though, because the sudden agony was more than he could bear. It encapsulated his every thought. Massive vice like jaws engulfed his shoulder. There was a sickening cacophony of bones crunching and flesh ripping as teeth tore into him. Then the claws came. The hellish beast tore into his torso and abdomen…clawing with abandon. Blood and bile poured over the dirty concrete walkway as he continued to retch. He could see it if he looked down at his feet. It looked almost black in the mild glow of the streetlight. A warm, red river of life, HIS life….spilling over into the dead grass. Should have run... It was David’s final thought. Left shoulder devoured, his arm lying at his feet, insides spilling out. The loud caw of a crow. There was pain, and blood...then nothing.