Midnight Phantom

The title's a little generic, but i cannot figure another out. This is my perception on something that actually occurred. I hope you enjoy!

Lightly tapping my foot on the dusty floor, I peered at the wall without seeing it. I think it had been hours since I arrived, and I could not remember if I had done anything at all. It was chilly at the bottom of this building, and all I could hear was the furnace burning in the other room. There wasn’t anyone working that night that knew I was down in this place. In fact, not too many of the staff knew that there was such a place where the original wooden beams, a couple hundred years old, reinforced the newer, rusting metal ones. My workers had all gone home, hours before, after an increasingly stressful day at this place. I think I was envious of them, though I did not have to deal with the shortness of capable staff. I wasn’t supposed to be here today. I wasn’t supposed to be here yesterday, either, but I had been. I remember wishing, even last night, that I had a home to escape work. Lately, the lines between work and home were so meshed together; I could no longer feel the comfort of home in my house, nor the bustling of work at this place.

My staff all had families, whether they were married or still a child living with their parents. I am married - my parents still live. I have kids too, but I didn’t come home often. I felt more comfort in this building, though where I was hiding, there was very little to warm me. It was creepy in this place. The light bulb was dim, and everything was dark. There were crackles and snaps in every corner, though nothing moved and there was no heat circulating through. My arms were crossed and I sat still. I tried to think, but for the time being it was not possible to understand my thoughts.

One of my workers swore that it was haunted down in this place. She was nearing her seventies, and I figured it was dementia settling in. I could not understand why a woman twice my age would still be working, especially in a bleak place like this. The onerous atmosphere was suffocating. A breath would tumble to the ground, and breathing this air in drowned me in its sorrow.

It was close to midnight, my watch beeped once. The noise made me shudder, but I shook off the surprise. Though the beep ended quickly, I could still hear something. The noise was an intermittent humming, but it was encompassing. I could not tell where it was coming from, but I refused to move. I stared at the blank wall, unwilling to look around me. I figured, if there was something to see, I would not wish to.

It did place an ominous fear in my head. What was making that horrifying noise? I could not dare to look, though, so I set my mind to ignore it.

Deciding to ignore it was far easier than the act itself. Though I proceeded to stare at the wall, the noise became less sporadic. I became more aware of the tone. It was not merely a humming; it was loud. It had a metallic ring on the edge of the wave. It was a painful, mournful ring. It had to be coming from behind me, but I was positive I did not want to look. More time passed and I started to shake. This specter was unrelenting. It took such bliss in feeding off my terror. It had the insatiable hunger for my increasing heartbeat and a deep thirst for the sweat pouring off my forehead. This fear was all I could breathe.

My surroundings began to dim even more. It was then that I remembered how old the light bulb on the ceiling was. I had not changed it in the five years that I had worked here. Terror began to surmount in my mind. The horror of the shop collapsing into darkness consumed all of my senses—all but my hearing. The screaming of the phantom behind me continued on. In a last attempt to hold in my courage I shut my eyes and covered my ears.

The blackness behind my lids gave no consolation. My ears could not block out the shouting of the demons that wrought my brain and tore it into shambles. Horrific thoughts engulfed everything. The shouting sounded desperate, screaming in loneliness. The sound shredded my comfort and left me bare and vulnerable. I could not see a reason to stay here, to continue on in this state. In a home surrounded by people, I could not escape how alone I was. There was so much proof of hell and I had found none of heaven.

“Oh!” I bellowed, standing quickly. I wrenched my eyes open and glared bitterly at the wall, peering into the white lead paint that shone in a dusty luster by the dimming light.

I was far more afraid of the blackness in my head than that of the wood-shop. I lowered my hands and welcomed the specter’s call. It was comforting to hear the chaotic shriek.

“Oh, devil behind me! I fear and love you! A companion, I am not alone in this shop!” The glee I felt could not be quashed. I closed my eyes tightly and turned around. Stepping forward, I felt my ankle get caught on a flat, cold piece of metal.

As I fell forward, I opened my eyes in surprise and encountered a harsh truth in the memory that suddenly flashed in my head. Luckily, I do not recall the pain. It was so instant, and in that second I was gone. However, the memory was so insignificant in that it could not keep me from falling.

No, it was not a demon behind—merely the table saw that I had forgotten to turn off.

 

Author's Note

I'm hoping to get some ideas on how to better the grammar.

Reviews

[Nickolaus A. Pacione]

I noticed this one placed in a contest that I also submitted in. I think it is not so much on the grammar of the story but I think you need to really hammer this one out a little more because you got a solid story here but doesn't have enough punch in this shorter format. My suggestion is build on each paragraph, take each sentence of the paragraphs and see if you can go further on each part.