Window Watcher

by Matt Converse

  It’s then I realize if I didn’t chain lock the door when Icarus left did I also forget to deadbolt it? Is the door not even locked at all? Holy shit. I get a sinking scary feeling. I feel the fear building inside me. When I breathe in the air feels cold. Why am I just lying here in bed with the killer just a few feet away outside an unlocked door? Get up and run, I tell myself. But I can’t. I’m frozen. I take another deep breathe, trying to calm myself. Just then, the silence is broken. It’s not a loud sound but it makes me jump because I’m so clenched with fear. I hear him slowly moving away from the door. I then hear the footsteps going down the stairs and then the front gate shuts. I exhale. I’m relieved, but also anxious about what the note will say. I sit there for a moment trying to work up the courage to turn on a light to read the note. I guess I could try reading it by the light of the nightlight. I try to work up the courage to get out of bed.

  A few moments later, I notice his light go back on in his window. Clearly, he wasn’t trying to trap me to come to the door because he’s back at his place. He came down here and left me a note? What the heck could it possibly say? I’m more curious than ever.

  I peek out of my covers and look around the room as if expecting to see a ghost. I pull the covers down in my bed and take a deep breath. I slowly creep out of bed. Instead of turning on the bedroom light I go into the living room and turn the far light on and use the dimmer to dim the lighting. I go back and grab the note and open it. My hands are shaking a little as I hold it and my heart pounds as I begin the read the words.

  You are being deceived. You are not the only one window watching. I see what is going on. I’d be careful if I was you. Icarus had the ring all along. Think about it. Figure it out or you’ll be next.

  —The Stranger in the Window

  Oh my God. My heart stops. My mind races. Icarus? He had the ring all along? That would mean…that Icarus killed her. What the hell? Icarus the killer? That isn’t possible, is it? My mind races with thoughts of how long I’ve known Icarus and how well I really know him. Could he really be the killer?

  Just then, I hear something. I tilt my head to listen close. Footsteps, softer than before but slowly coming up the stairs. I take a deep breath. They continue until they stop just outside the front door. I look and see the knob turning. I freeze. I watch it turn all the way and then click. The sound of the click makes my heart race and pound almost out of my chest. I know what that click means. My worst fear is realized: it was unlocked. A huge wave of fear envelops me. I can hardly catch my breath. The front door swings open, scaring the living hell out of me.

  “Ahhhhhhhhhhhhh!” I scream.

  It’s Icarus.

  At the Window

  I look into Icarus’s eyes and they look wild and crazy. He has a sinister snarl on his face that I’ve never seen before. I can hardly believe my eyes. I scream at the top of my lungs.

  I jerk awake and sit up in my bed. I look toward the front door; it is dark. There is no nightlight. There is no Icarus. I exhale, shake my head and look around, doing a double take. It was a nightmare. I sigh with relief and grab a water bottle and gulp some down. I sigh again. Well, that nap was more than I bargained for, I think to myself. That was terrifying. It seemed so real. I can almost hear the footsteps coming toward the door. I look back toward the door. I take a deep breath and repeat in my head that it was just a dream and try to calm myself down. I take another gulp of water.

  I think about the nightmare. Icarus had the ring all along. That’s nuts. What a weird dream. The guy we thought was the murderer sent me a note warning me Icarus is the killer instead of him? Crazy. I look up toward his window, but the lights are out. Ok, none of that really happened, it was just a dream. I sigh again and shake my head. Back to reality, I tell myself. I sit up straight in my bed and clear my head. I tell myself again it was just a nightmare. Nothing has changed. You’re fine. I manage a smile. I get up out of bed and remember why I took the nap in the first place. It’s early, I can still get some writing done.

  I grab my half empty espresso and zap it in the microwave and then sip it as I start working on my latest book. It’s still hard to concentrate, but I’m able to knock out a few pages before I take a break.

  It’s now almost midnight and I turn off the light next to my PC and flop down on the bed just to relax for a few minutes. Laying on my back, I look straight out my window and see his windows are dark. I take a deep breath and close my eyes just for a minute. I’m not falling back asleep again, I tell myself. I’ve had enough nightmares. My mind wanders to Icarus out at the club. That relaxes my state of mind. He’s probably having a great time. I can just see him dancing at the club. I’m sure all the guys are after him— he’s so cute, and I think at his age a little oblivious to just how attractive he is. I smile. I’m betting I don’t see him until around 2 a.m.

  I look back up at the window for a second, but the lights still aren’t on. I close my eyes again. Is this guy really the killer or have we just convinced ourselves of it? The nightmare about the ring makes no sense. If Icarus were the killer, I would have been dead a long time ago! I laugh at the thought of that. Icarus the killer? I picture his cute little face. Him the killer? That’s ridiculous! That part of the dream is so strange, I wonder why I dreamt that? He’s not the one I’ve seen in the window with different people. He’s not the one with an axe and a saw. Sometimes I’m not sure what my dreams mean. Sometimes a dream is just a dream, I tell myself. Then a thought pops into my head, maybe it’s about trust. Maybe the dream is just questioning how much I trust him. I do trust him, I think to myself, but then a little voice says, but not enough to be his boyfriend.

  Before I know it, I have drifted off again, but only briefly. I think I willed myself not to fall into a deep sleep because I didn’t want to have another nightmare— I can still hear those footsteps coming up the stairs. When I wake back up, I can see the light is on in his window. I get up and go to the blinds and peek out and up toward his window. He is standing sideways in his bedroom window and appears to be alone. I hear some sort of bird squawk as it flies by. I look up into the dark sky. That’s weird, I think to myself, didn’t a bird squawk in my dream too? Just then, my PC screen goes dark, so I know I only nodded off for a very short time. When I look back at the window I almost jump out of my skin. My heart almost stops. He’s looking right at me! His eyes are laser focused right into mine. My chest feels heavy. A cold chill whips through my entire body. Holy hell, his eyes are burning a hole right through me. He knows I’ve been watching him! I can see it in the way he is glaring down at me.

  I jump away from the window, but I know he saw me. His eyes were looking right at me—and the way he was staring at me! It gives me the creeps. I literally feel a chill and clench both fists together as if to give myself warmth or strength— I’m not sure which —it’s a gut reaction. I realize my lights aren’t on, but the moonlight is definitely enough for him to see me peering through my blinds. His eyes looked directly into mine and not in the way a person normally looks at you. There was a sinister intention in his stare. He realizes I’ve been staring up at him. He caught me in the act. And I know he has to wonder if it’s the first time I’ve watched him. That glare told me he thinks, like the cat, that maybe I know too much. I can’t help but come to the next conclusion. Will I be next? I feel a queasiness in my stomach. An image of the dead cat with the noose around its neck flashes through my brain. I can almost hear the cat screeching in pain. I put my hand to my throat.

  I rub my arms and walk further away from the window and sit in the chair at my desk. As I click my mouse, the screen lights up and my eyes dart back toward the window. Is he watching? Did he notice it is slightly lighter in the room now? I see by my PC it’s almost 1:30 a.m. The bars will be closing soon. I’ll be happy to have Icarus here; I really don’t want to be alone. I feel like I should call the police, but I don’t really know what I’d say, especially since I don’t have the ring, Icarus does. I think about the nightmare
and the note saying Icarus had the ring all along. I shake my head. It was just a crazy dream.

  Then something comes to me that I know from writing. There is sometimes a character who turns out to be an ‘unreliable narrator’, a person speaking in a book who is actually lying. What he has said was taken as fact, but it actually wasn’t true at all. What did I know about this killer? What Icarus has told me. I didn’t even know he existed until Icarus told me about him. And then he told me about the ‘gay killer’ becoming the ‘bisexual butcher’ the day after we saw him with a woman in the window. He’s the one who told me everything I know about the killer— even his last name. It was Icarus who went to the mailbox and came back with his name. Every single thing I know about the killer has come from him. All the conclusions I’ve come to are based on things Icarus told me about the killer. Could it be those things aren’t true?

  The words from the letter ring in my head. “You are being deceived. I’d be careful if I was you…or you’ll be next!”

  Wait a minute. “I’d be careful if I was you.” That’s the same exact thing that voice said in the fog to Icarus and me that night in the fog! It was a voice coming from somewhere very close to me. It almost sounded like a man pretending to be a woman. Could it have been Icarus himself disguising his voice? I get a sudden cold chill and cringe at the thought of it. I am getting a strange feeling that this is adding up. Is it really possible? How well do I really know Icarus? We’ve only been dating for a few months.

  Then I stop and laugh at myself. What the hell am I thinking about? Icarus the killer? I shake my head. That doesn’t make any sense at all, and I know he could never do anything like that. I smile and rub my chin. I just had a strange dream and then my mind started racing from there. I nod my head, agreeing with myself. I guess I’ve written too many mysteries. Clearly my imagination has been running away with itself. I laugh at myself again. Icarus is not the killer. I’ve always had quite the imagination— and often it is on the dark side. I’ve become pretty fond of Icarus I realize, and even though I haven’t known him that long, I think I know him pretty well. There’s no way he’s the killer. I trust him.

  I get up from the chair and walk to the front windows and peer down through the blinds, looking for Icarus. He should be home soon. I walk back into the bedroom and lay back down on the bed, but in the opposite direction I sleep in. My head is at the end of the bed, closer to the window. I can see through the blinds a bit at this angle and can see his bedroom light is still on. I can’t stop thinking about his eyes looking directly at mine.

  He knows I know, I think to myself.

  Maybe I should call a cab and get the hell out of here. I wish Icarus would get back. I could call him, but it’s almost closing time for the bars so he’ll definitely be home any minute. I just need to chill for a few minutes and he’ll be back— and he will have talked to his friend Jo Ann and maybe will know what we should do. I don’t give any validity to the dream about Icarus having the ring all along, meaning he was the killer. Even if I haven’t known him that long, that just doesn’t add up. It’s ludicrous. But I do wonder why I dreamt that. I look toward the front door and think about the nightmare when the door swung open and it was Icarus.

  In the dream, I did think he was the killer. Even though I don’t think there is any possibility at all of that being true, it is in my head now since that dream. But when I picture his face any doubts fade and I smile. I guess I am kind of falling for him just a little. Maybe I have been for some time, but just didn’t want to admit it. I think him wanting so badly for us to be ‘boyfriends’ made me rebel against it. I guess I’ve always been that way. Tell me I have to do something, and it’s the last thing I want to do.

  I lay on my back for a few minutes before turning over onto my stomach, the way I usually sleep. A few minutes later, the PC screen goes black, as it does after ten minutes of inactivity. Now the room is completely dark.

  I sigh and take a deep breath. I close my eyes for a couple of minutes but don’t want to fall asleep. I yawn and then open my eyes. Where is Icarus? Why isn’t he home yet? I smile to myself. Did I really just think that? Why isn’t he home yet? I didn’t say it out loud, but I definitely said it in my head. I’m glad he doesn’t know that. He’d be jumping on that and saying it’s official we’re a couple. Instead, I’ll be more likely to tell him about the dream with the window guy’s note saying Icarus had the ring all along. I don’t know why I keep thinking about that. Maybe it’s because the dream seemed so real. It also keeps going through my head that experts say dreams are trying to tell us something, and that we should listen to them.

  As I look to my window, which is only about three feet from my face when lying this way, it looks darker than usual. Even with the blinds down, there is usually some light from the moon shining down at my window late at night. I guess the fog is blocking the moon tonight. When it gets foggy, the stars and moon can be totally obscured. Even though that could be the case, I have an uneasy feeling. I look back toward the window. It almost looks like there’s a shadow in front of it. It also looks like the lights are out in the stranger’s windows. Maybe that’s it, when his light is on it makes the air well and outside my window a little lighter. It just looks so dark. I’m not sure I really want to, but I slowly get up from the bed and go to the window and peek through the blinds. I freeze in my tracks. I take a deep breath. My chest pounds. I suddenly realize why the window looks so dark. The only question now is it already too late? I stay frozen in my tracks, too scared to move. There is a dark shadow of someone standing right outside my window looking in at me!

  My heart nearly stops. A chill of fear rips through my body. What the hell should I do? I gulp. It’s him. He does know we’ve been watching him. I don’t know exactly how much he knows, but it’s enough that he’s coming after me. He is literally a foot away from me on the other side of the window looking in at me. My stomach instantly feels queasy. I feel warm, and feel sweat starting to form on my forehead. Should I pretend I don’t see him and just casually walk away from the window and then make a run for it? Or should I run for my life now? Because my room is totally dark, maybe I can see him but he can’t see me. Just then, I see slight movement from the shadow. Is it because he sees me now?

  My heart is pounding faster and faster. What do I do? I decide maybe the best approach is to slowly back away. I take one small step back and take a deep breath. I exhale and feel like all the air is going out of my lungs. I’m terrified. That dark shadow in the window is so close to me, just a thin layer of glass stands between me and the killer. As scared as I am, a strange realization comes to me. I live my life looking at my PC or TV, but now a dark reality is about to break through that plate of glass that separates fantasy from reality. The outside world is about to collide with the inner world I live in. I take another deep breath. Maybe I should just scream for help. I bite my lower lip, knowing I have to do something. Just scream, I tell myself, surely the neighbors will hear and call the police. Just as I am about to scream, I hear a sound at the window. I look and the shadow man is crouching, reaching toward the window. My heart races. The screen is suddenly ripped out of the bottom part of the window and in an instant he bursts through the now open part of the window. I’m shell-shocked and freeze in terror. It’s dark but I can just see his hands coming for me, and I tell myself to run. For a moment I am frozen, feeling like I am in a nightmare where someone or something is after me and for some reason I can’t run.

  You’re not dreaming, I tell myself, run! I jerk out of my frozen state and turn and start to run for the front door. I try to catch my breath and dart toward it. I reach for the doorknob and turn it. My hand is shaking in fear. My heart pounds, knowing how close I am to escaping. Just as I turn the knob, I feel a hand grab me from behind. In an instant, I feel his other hand, grabbing me with great force. He tosses me back away from the front door into my bedroom toward the kitchen, and I go flying onto the floor. This guy is strong. I roll and instincti
vely jump back up to my feet and run away from him and through the kitchen into the bathroom. I slam and lock the door behind me. He starts rattling the doorknob from the other side, jerking it back and forth.

  I hear something clacking and although it’s dark I can just make out the blade of a knife sliding through the crack in the door. He’s trying to unlock the door with a knife! I stare at the blade, not sure what to do. It’s not something you can just grab at to stop. The knife blade slides up and down and back and forth. It stops when it comes to the bolt that is keeping it locked. The blade pokes back and forth in the area of the lock. The bolt is holding strong. I sigh, as it seems like the knife isn’t going to work. But then fear quickly returns. How am I going to get out of here? I’m now trapped in here with the killer outside. How do I get out of here? I look to the side wall and slide open the small window there.

  “Help! Help!” I yell at the top of my lungs. “Call the police! Someone’s trying to kill me! Call the police!”

  I notice the knife is not sticking through anymore. My minds races. Is he still at the door? Or has he run outside knowing where this window is? In an instant, I have my answer.

  An arm reaches through the window, just like in my dream, except this time it’s real and has a knife in it. He slashes it toward me. My eyes have adjusted to the dark a bit and I grab a big, thick candle from a shelf behind the toilet and slam it into his forearm. I bash it good, and then again. I hear him grunt in pain. He pulls his hand back out of the window and I instantly drop the candle and slam the window shut with both hands.