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The Heat
I live in a rather large house, of a very peculiar design. It has a very open architecture that disturbs visitors, because most of the rooms have glassless windows that open into every other room. The cathedral-like living room is three stories high, and one can see into any other area in the house from it, save the bedrooms, which are in the back of the third and second floors. As I have for many years before, I find these details painfully relevant on burning summer days like this one.
Skylights beam lances of energy through the house, and bright silhouettes mar my vision whenever I accidentally look away from my computer. I have the unfortunate luck of working on the third floor, in a space whose three inner windows look out into the upper reaches of the living room, facing directly at the skylights. The skylights mock me, their rectangles of white shining with a harsh radiance that I can’t seem to escape no matter where I sit.
Around me, more traditional windows sit wide open, and my large fan struggles to cool me with equally hot air from outside. My computer, an old desktop, spins a matching noise through the fan in its back, and I find the noise oddly comforting, despite the heat it pumps out. I sit on an old office chair, my body filled with the upward sensation of heat that threatens to prickle my skin and make me start sweating at any moment. I’m just happy that the blessed coolness of sleep lasted as long as it did… it’s going to be a long day.
Maybe forty minutes into my work, I hear something out of place. I can’t hear it very well over the droning of the two fans, so I dismiss it. A few more minutes pass, and I hear it again. My skin prickles, and I pass the threshold into sweating, even as my blood runs cold.
The after-echoes in my ears are the sounds of a door being opened quietly.
After a moment of terrified indecision, my best guess is that it must somehow be the wind, flowing hard in the heat. Even so, I quietly creep up to the openings that look into the upper reaches of the living room. I look around, scanning different areas of the house with my eyes and listening intently, but I hear nothing, save the droning of the fans behind me and the pounding of my heart. I wipe sweat from my forehead, and sit back down at my computer. It must have been nothing…
I hear it again, from somewhere different this time.
My body tenses at the realization that there might be someone in the house. I run to the closed door near me and silently lock it. Crouching back at the opening into the living room, I focus all my attention through my ears, straining to hear any sound. The pulsing atmosphere of heat, light, and moving air makes it almost impossible to be certain that I am alone. I struggle to control my rapid breathing so as to not make any noise, and wipe the sweat off of my face nervously.
I hear it again. I turn my head sharply, catching the location with my ears. Somewhere on the second floor, almost directly below me, the last sounds of a door closing reverberate through the house’s open space. A chill runs through me even as the tide of heat inside me grows stronger.
I know I have to go investigate the sound, but I hesitate. For many long minutes, I crouch by the opening, listening to the burning quiet of the open space inside the house. The droning sounds of the fans lull me, and the insistent blanket of heat whispers that I should just lie down, that I should just wait, that everything is fine. Inexplicably, the searing beams of light assaulting the floor far below just add to the heavy tiredness behind my eyes.
After some indeterminate time spent hovering painfully at the edge of sleep, that same sound suddenly snaps me to full alertness. Startled, I smooth my sweat-soaked hair, and rub my eyes. Impossibly, the room feels even hotter than before. The fans continue to drone behind me, but it feels like they aren’t even there. In desperation, I take off my shirt, leaving only my undershirt on. I throw the wet shirt on the floor, disgusted. The release gives me temporary relief, and I use my revived energy to approach the door. I have to go investigate the sound…
… unless there really is someone in the house, and I missed them coming up the stairs while I was trying not to pass out. My hand freezes on the handle. How long was I out of it? I look over at the skylight beams, and they don’t seem to have shifted… but the more I think about it, the more I seem to feel a presence somewhere in the house. Somewhere amid the heated air, the blasting light, and the whining fans, a deeper animal instinct tells me that something is alive… and it knows that I’m in the house with it. Am I just imagining things?
My slick hand slips on the handle, making a noise. I act on impulse - my adrenaline jumps and I feel that I have no choice. I unlock the door and fling it wide open.
The hall is empty, but I have no time for relief. Somewhere below me, something crashes and breaks, and a door slams open angrily. Fear explodes in my chest, and I run down the hall as fast as I can, my bare feet making almost no noise on the carpet. I dive into the bedroom opposite the room I was working in, just as a storm of pounding sounds crash by on… the floor, and the walls… and one even sounded like it hit the ceiling. I envision something monstrous, but I don’t turn around in time to see it. More crashes come from the room that I was just in, and, blinded by fear, I run back into the hallway and down the stairs that the thing just came up.
I freeze instantly as the noise above me stops. Mostly down the stairs to the second floor, I try to keep my ragged breathing and pounding heart as slow as possible. I hear no movement from the room above, as if the thing is waiting, or… listening. Long, excruciating minutes pass by in pained quiet as I try not to move or make any sound. To my dismay, I realize quickly that I am standing in a beam from one of the skylights, and my already heat-filled muscles begin to shiver as the insistent harsh white light assaults me. As the moments pass, I feel my stomach turning with sickness. I can’t stand it for much longer… and that same lulling sound of moving air… I feel weariness building behind my eyes again…
I have no choice. My mind surges suddenly when I touch the brink of collapse, and I know I have to move. Silently, my ears straining to detect any sound, I slip off my sweat-soaked undershirt. Gripping it tight in my fist, I notice a disturbing inability to clutch it as hard as I want. My muscles feel strangely weak. A brief grim thought flashes through my brain – just how hot is it in here? – but there’s no time to wonder. I feel vulnerable clad in only my jeans, but I have to do this.
Without further hesitation, I stomp down the stairs as fast and as loud as possible. Almost simultaneously, the crashing pounds charge down the upper hallway, heading for the stairs. As I hit the second floor hallway, I hurl the undershirt one direction and myself another. I duck into a room and freeze just in time to hear the undershirt hit the floor. The insane pounding hits the hallway and… pursues the undershirt. I hear the sounds of fabric ripping, and a strange chittering noise that sounds almost… angry. Silence ensues once more. I calm somewhat as my hypothesis proves true. If the thing could see, it would simply walk around looking for me.
The heat-sick feeling in me grows worse. Now that I have a chance to notice, I realize that the second floor is even hotter than the third. This… shouldn’t be happening! I pull my sweaty back away from the wall, which hurts to touch. Taking care to remain silent, I touch the dry painted surface with my hand, and immediately pull away. The walls… are hot! A kernel of despair coalesces in my heart. Between the inexplicable heat and the strange thing in the hallway... I know I’m in trouble. I have to escape!
Silently walking barefoot across the carpet, I approach the window. I wince at the terrible heat radiating from around it. What the hell could be causing this? I think back on the harsh white light coming from the skylights, and my heart turns to ice.
The skylight beams… they weren’t the right color.
My terrible suspicions are confirmed as I reach the radiating window. Outside, there is only sheer white. I won’t find escape that way. One thing is starting to make sense, though – that creature, if I’m right, and it can’t see… then it must be connected to this. What better wa
y than sound to find your prey, in a place that is so harshly bright? I can still see despite the growing heat and brightness… which means it’s probably going to get worse in here.
Wherever here is…
I curl up on the floor in the middle of the room, fighting the urge to cry. My fists ball up, and my vision blurs. I can’t stop envisioning the horrible death that awaits me. If that creature doesn’t get me, then I will slowly die from the heat, cooking from the inside out. I feel that heavy tiredness behind my eyes again, begging me to sleep. I could just let it come, and drift out with the tide…
No! Not yet. I’m not done!
The floor begins to sear my feet. I don’t know how I ended up in this nightmare, but I refuse to give up and die. Looking up, I see scissors on the table near me, where I left them in this room yesterday… a lifetime ago. I take off my jeans, and, wincing in fear because of the tiny ripping sounds, cut the fabric in half. As best I can, I tie one half of the jeans to each of my feet, just as the floor’s heat becomes unbearable. My feet protected, I heft the scissors. Weapon in hand, I suddenly feel a primal rage fueling me. I will figure this out. I have to survive. I will survive!
Looking out of the room, I see the old laundry chute I haven’t used in years. Set in the hallway wall opposite me, it could just fit me, especially covered in sweat and in only my underwear and makeshift jean-wrapped feet. That chute would get me to the first floor, and confuse whatever it is that follows me. The only problem is… the entire chute is metal...
I steel myself, knowing I have no choice. There is no way I’ll get past the thing down the hallway. I take a deep, silent breath, and then run for it as fast as I can. The entity is slow to respond to my jean-on-carpet footfalls, and I slam myself into the chute as hard as I can as I hear the insane pounding approach. Immediately, the metal sides press into me, and an inferno seems to grip my skin, turning it into charred paper. I don’t slide at all, and instead have to force myself down the shaft, leaving skin behind. Hot blood lubricates my fall, and I finally find myself hitting the hard and searing concrete of the first floor laundry room.
Fighting the urge to scream, I stagger up. My hands refuse to work, and I find that the scissors I am still carrying are glowing orange. My fingertips are seared completely black, and the muscles in my hands barely function. I shake the scissors off of my blackened flesh before I realize my mistake. The sound of the scissors bouncing off the concrete immediately sets off my adversary. I waste no time in stumbling for the door, and tears blur my vision while I try not to fall. The jeans wrapped around my feet come off, burnt into weakness, as I reach the final door. My hands refuse to close on the door handle, which glows white against my melting flesh. In desperation, I run my arm across it, using the friction of the blackening skin to turn it. Wisps of ash, burnt pieces of me, float by my face… and the door opens.
A blast of mercifully cold air hits my entire body.
I run outside into the harsh white radiance, my soul filling with relief and pure joy at escaping the strange inferno. The chill feels good on my skin; I look at my blackened fingers and feet, trying to figure out how deep the burns are. I suddenly realize that I’m in only my underwear, and probably make quite a sight to the people in the neighborhood. I look around as I blink the tears in my eyes away, trying to see in spite of the bright whiteness. My relief and joy fade away as I find that there are no people outside… no houses… and no street. There is only snow, dirt, and rock; an endless slope that slides down into sun-bright oblivion. My blood runs cold; my heart freezes.
I remember.
I was driving in a snow storm, through the mountains, and I went off the road… no other cars came by for hours, and I decided to walk. I got lost… the storm ended, and the sun came out, but I’ve been wandering in the snow ever since…
I was never too hot. My hands and feet aren’t black from fire. I’ve been… freezing to death… I don’t see my clothes anywhere… I recognize the symptoms of extreme hypothermia… fatigue, amnesia, confusion, paradoxical undressing… and I can feel my moment of lucidity fading, even now.
I feel strangely calm, knowing that I am with utter certainty going to die. I’ve actually thought about what it would be like to die this way, and I always felt it would be a rather peaceful way to go. I sit; or rather, my leg muscles stop functioning, and I fall to a sitting position. Snowflakes blow around me, and I watch them with childlike wonder, marveling in how detailed they are, as if I’d never noticed before. I feel my heart pounding extremely fast. I smile. That’s one more symptom, ventricular tachy… something. It doesn’t matter. There was one more symptom I always wondered about – terminal burrowing.
I know that many hypothermia victims are found in small spaces, as if they were desperately hiding. If they can’t find anywhere to hide, some even try to dig into the ground, wearing their fingers down to bloody nubs. I’ve always wondered why they do it, or what it might feel like. As I feel my life ebb, I find myself disappointed that it doesn’t seem like I’ll get to experience it. There’s only the warm cradling cold, and the calm… I sigh.
At the sound, I hear pounding somewhere nearby in the snow. The calm in me immediately shatters, and I turn around to look behind me for the first time. Oh God! In my delirium – it was real!
No, don’t scream! Don’t make a sound!
But… it’s not waiting… it’s moving!
It’s moving around, blindly flailing, blindly searching…
I have to… find a place… I have to hide!
I can’t let it get me… I can’t let it touch me… because – God help me – I recognize it!
Creepy Tales Page 4
