Horror Story
The feeble street lights, of the now empty avenues, showed the shadows of buildings, benches, cars and trees. The breeze of the night was cold, and the air felt heavy and dry. The beginning of autumn ment loneliness in every way, it however didn’t bother me.
As I walked home, I saw how the shadows of the night merged and changed. Soon, I noticed yellow vertical pupils that glimmered through the long alley. Animals were never my forte, in fact, every animal that reached my house ended up dying under mysterious circumstances.
The cat brushed its tail with my boots, and steadily walked outside of the alleyway. So there I stood, in the middle of the night, smelling the pungent smell of trash and rotten food. My arms and neck started tingling. I was unsure if it was because of the weird atmosphere,or the coldness of the night.
I made my way home, without trouble or any other encounter. I entered my apartment’s reception, and greeted the old asleep man sitting behind the desk. His name was Eddie.
Eddie was a kind, diligent, and tired man in his early seventies, who worked more for pleasure and boredom than actual necessity. He was there everyday, and his only major obsession aside from organizing his desks over and over, would be cats.
The cat back at the alley resembled his (I believe) now dead Cat, Bob.
It was none of my business, though.
When I got home it was already almost 1AM. The next day was Tuesday, and my boss wouldn’t be happy if I got there late for the fifth time this month. Let’s just say my insomnia isn’t getting the best of me.
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“You told us to wake you up at 4AM” yelled someone outside my apartment, while banging the door. The yelling continued for some more minutes, probably until it stopped. The person's voice was inexplicable, no specific characteristics, it just felt like a foggy sound rumbling through my ears. I checked the clock, it was 3:35 am.
Before opening the door I saw through the door’s fisheye. There was no one, I imagined it or maybe it had just been a mistake. Downtown isn’t the most safeplace,either way. Without much thought, I decided to go back to bed. But I fell.
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I woke up feeling dizzy, lightheaded, nauseous. The ground was cold, and the smell of trash and rotten food intensified. I was laying on the alley’s cold floor. Again, and again, I repeated that sentence in my head. Time passed and I stood up, decided to go back home. Still confused about what had happened.
Why was I there? Why in my pajamas? Why so late at night? and more importantly, What was Eddie doing there?
“Oh! Good evening young man! What are you doing here so late at night?” said the old-kind Eddie.
“Same goes to you, Eddie. Why are you here so late at night? Who’s taking care of the building?” I replied.
“We both know Tom, that this old man can’t even take care of himself. Do you remember my old cat Bob? He escaped again.”
“ Wasn’t Bob….dead, Eddie? Don't you remember? We had a funeral and all.” I replied perturbed. Eddie was old and naive, but he had a great memory.
“No, no. Can you hear those bells? Well! Well! Here’s Bob. What are you doing all alone at night?” Said Eddie. While a thin, black cat climbed his way up to Eddie’s arms.
According to Eddie, that was Bob. There was no point in fighting.
Eddie and I decided to walk together back to the building. Eddie seemed silent, more than usual; and quite frankly, I was still confused as to why I was there.
“Eddie, what time is it?”
“I beg your pardon?” responded Eddie with his husky voice, and strong 70’s accent.
“Well, I must say I don’t really remember getting to the alley, or even more importantly having a reason to be there. I’m not appropriately dressed and I certainly don’t have any devices where I could check the time. So, what time is it?”
“Time? I guess it’s about time to eat.”
“Eat, you say?” I continued with confusion “Are you hungry, Eddie?”
“Not really, but Bob is.” While he pronounced those words, the black cat jumped to my face and violently bit and scratched my head. I felt how the blood ran through the sides of my face and the back of my neck. I fell and tried to take the cat off my face, as a last resort I took a piece of glass and stabbed the cat’s paw. It released me.
But there was Eddie, laying on the cold ground. Lifeless, and scratched.
That’s your explanation for Eddie Murphy's death? - said Detective Dickers.
Yes! It must, it certainly is .- responded Tommas
Well, unfortunately, Mr. Berger, the camera footage says otherwise. You stabbed Mr. Murphy three times, before calling the police.
But, it was Bob.
“Yes, it must certainly have been.” he said with a sense of mockery. “Detective Fitcher, we must make some psychological tests, while he’s being processed. Call Daine! Tell her that he may be delusional” continued Detective Dickens, as he approached the interrogatory room’s door.
By Natalia Pérez S., Step 10
