Night Terror
The fire in the grate gave up its last spark as the wind came howling down the chimney. The rain lashing against the window had young Lisa, pulling the bed-covers tight over her head. Curling into a ball, her heart thumping, her body trembling, she was frozen from the cold but also fear, fear of what was to come.
She heard it then, faint at first but getting louder and louder, the terrifying scream, as if it were rising from far away and arriving in her ears at full crescendo. It was human maybe but twisted, gnarled, distorted by the gale. Even in the pitch blackness, she closed her eyes and prayed in the vain hope it would choose another.
Wrought with terror, waiting for the inevitable horror to arrive, made the safety of the dawn seem like an eternity away. The beast was coming as it had before, riding the storm like a trusty steed. Poor Tom had been ripped away, flesh eaten and bones broken. Now it was Lisa’s turn, and she could hear footsteps on the flagstones in the narrow hallway, then a pause as something sniffed the dank air to catch her scent.
Her only chance was the window, to flee out into the turbulent mayhem of the storm and run headlong into the sea where it couldn’t follow. But she was rigid with fear, unable to move a single muscle. More footsteps now, hard and solid thudding on each tread of the wooden stairs. It was now or never, and finding a single sliver of courage in her icy heart, Lisa willed it to grow with each positive thought she could muster.
Slowly, gaining the strength to open her eyes, pulling back the covers she rushed to the window. Shaking uncontrollably, cold fingers fumbling with the catch, she realized the footsteps had stopped. The sneck of the door latch was lifting as Lisa wrenched the window open and tumbled out, hitting the ground hard but unhurt. Then running, running like she was possessed, insane, driven on by sheer terror.
The freezing water hit her knees, waist, then chest, as the icy shock of the waves barely allowed her to breathe. Lisa could feel the menacing, evil presence on the shoreline, agitated, frustrated, wailing with hatred and contempt. Knowing she couldn’t last until the first rays of morning light would send the abomination back to its squalid hole, she let the receding tide pull her out to sea.
The thought of drifting from life unto death on her terms didn’t seem so bad, until Lisa heard the bell, a faint but bright sound on the breeze. A single note ringing out each time the small boat rolled from side to side in the heaving sea, getting louder each time as it came closer, bringing hope of rescue with it. A large hand, old and gnarled, enclosed her own and lifted her effortlessly onto the small craft, just as the clouds above broke, and a single star shone through.
A tear, as salty as the sea, rolled down Lisa’s cheek and into the corner of her mouth as she stood, looking down at a poor wretch lying on the deck. A blanket being placed over the thin body, covering her pale face. A familiar face, one she’d seen many times before in the mirror. The clouds rolled over again and both she and the boat were gone.