Things That Go Bump In The Night

It was the darkest night I’d ever seen. Pitch black, without a single star in the inky sky. Just the dimly yellow glow of a dying street lamp in the distance.

I didn’t recognize the road I was on, even though I felt I should; didn’t know where I was going, either. I shivered, tugging my jacket closer around me, even though the air seemed devoid of temperature. Then, I heard a quiet sound behind me, like a soft intake of breath.

Was I imagining it?

Again, that sound. Louder, this time. Then, shuffling, feet dragging over cracked asphalt.

I turned around.

Nothing.

I walked faster. When I heard the shuffling sound again, I did not look back. Instead, I focused on the warm glow of the streetlamp I was slowly approaching. Much too slowly.

A sound again, directly behind me. I whirled around, ready to strike.

I never got the chance.

The last thing I saw was a horrid, rotten grimace, half bone, half discolored flesh and skin, accompanied by an overwhelming smell of decomposing bodies.

I felt a sharp stab of pain and jerked upward.

The street, ghoul and lamp were gone.

With trembling hands I felt around for my light switch, found my carpet and a discarded bra instead and vaguely saw the dark silhouette of my bed looming over me to my left. I sat up and hit my head against my nightstand, the dull ‘thud’ echoing though the quiet flat. I hissed in annoyance and pain.

This just wouldn’t do. A quick glance at my alarm clock told me that it was almost 4:30 AM. This was the fourth nightmare-filled night in a row, and I was fed up with all of it. Enough was enough. Without really thinking about it I got up, groaning as my head throbbed, and padded over to my door. I stepped out into the pitch-black corridor, warily peering into the shadows, half-expecting something to jump at me.

Nothing happened.

Of course it didn’t.

The faintest shimmer of light was emanating from underneath Augustus’ door. I walked over, turned the handle and quietly stepped into his room. My friend was sitting in bed, leaning against the headboard and staring into thin air, long hair hanging over his shoulder in a tousled braid. His bedside lamp was on, but dimmed down, bathing the room in warm light and soft shadows.

“I heard you scream,” Gus said quietly.

I didn’t answer at first, merely walked over to him and sat down on the edge of the mattress.

“Do the dreams ever stop?” I asked.

He sighed, shrugged. “No,” he finally said, “I don’t think they do. They may get better eventually, or worse, but they never go away.”

I drew my knees up to my chin, digging my heels into the gap between bed and mattress.

“Thought so.”

He looked at me then, all big, dark eyes with even bigger, darker circles underneath, probably trying to figure out what to say.

“You weren’t sleeping,” I added.

“I wasn’t,” he agreed. “Is there anything I can do to help you?”

I shook my head. Thought. Nodded. “Maybe?” I said. It sounded like a question more than an answer.

“What is it, Jaime?”

“Can I stay? I promise, I won’t snore.”

Gus chuckled, but moved to the other side of the bed to make room for me. “Some people would call you foolish for sleeping next to a vampire,” he said.

I slid under the covers and made myself comfortable.

“’Some people’ can kiss my arse for all I care,” I grumbled, and pretended not to notice Gus' ridiculous little smile - as if I was doing him a favor by not being afraid of my own best friend.

“So,” I said, “I’m going to sleep now and I’d be very happy if you’d try to do the same.”

The vampire looked at the clock - 4:40 - and nodded.

“Fine,” he yawned, “I’ll try.”

“Good,” I said and cuddled up to the vampire, “good night, Gus.”

“Night, Jaime,” was the sleepy reply.

I smiled contentedly and turned off the light.