
Frustration
brewed in his stomach and flooded his system as he realised that his cowardice
and over-active mind had ruined his chances of reaching the party. It was a helpless frustration, and he sought
for something to blame other than himself for his failure. He swore at the river, he railed against the
vagaries of the weather and the unnecessary darkness of the night sky; he
stormed at the insidious stories of his youth.
The river below him insolently soaked up his insults, and continued to
flow slowly. It seeped ever closer to
the party that was being held at its banks downstream, mocking the efforts of
the lonely man at its side. The sky was
extremely clear now, as the last clouds vanished, and the cold that came with
this was like the sudden chill of entering a long-disused room. Cold stars were glimmering vacantly above,
viewing the newly revealed scene beneath them with indifference. Far off, deep in the flat vastness beyond the
river, the jagged teeth of trees still held the darkness fast, and a lonely
oak, planted by optimistic souls long ago, reached its heavy fist at the sky. The furious man gradually shed his anger,
exhausted by the evening spent in such a spot.
He thought for a time, half ashamed by his outburst, and resolved that
he should continue walking.
Unfortunately, no-one is able to blithely stroll
through a landscape that has already terrified them; the terrible silence and
grim blackness had taken a firm hold of the man’s heart, and the two mismatched
footsteps still reverberated in his ears.
Every step he took, he felt sure was being mirrored by the same mocking,
unfriendly presence. As panic germinated
again in the recesses of his mind, and his heart began to pump more blood than
was necessary to his face and chest, he began to imagine, for the first time,
what this being was like. He saw
darting, mischievous eyes; he could see the pointed, smooth face, tapered at
both top and bottom in an unnatural parody of a human’s; the flat nose and the thin
mouth, laughing at his discomfort, were as real to him as the darkness that
filled his senses. His breath was
catching in his throat as he continued to walk, unsteady and panicked, along
the river path. He would run, but he
felt that this would be like running from a wary dog – it would encourage the
being into quicker action. So he carried
on walking, never looking back, despite the pressure his neck felt to twist
around and cure the intense stressed curiosity he felt. His ears were alert to more footsteps, but
heard none. In his mind, this simply
indicated that the creature had learned to synchronise its steps with his. He continued to walk, his chest tight and
strained from his rising panic.
No comments:
Post a Comment