He stood watching the procession. He just couldn’t stand to be around others right now. He didn’t want to hear the sorries and condolences. He didn’t want to hear any of it. He was afraid he might cry and no one could see him crying. He didn’t want to show that kind of emotion to anyone.

He watched through the dark shades of his sunglasses. He wore the customary black suit with a grey trench coat. He wore a hat as well since it was raining, opting to go without the umbrella. They say you knew the locals because they never used umbrellas.

He watched them carry the casket and put it in place over the grave. The priest began talking as people gathered around but he couldn’t hear a word the priest was saying. No matter, he already had an idea of what was being said. He had some words to say himself, but nobody would ever hear them since it was between them and nobody else.

He saw one of his friends look over at him and start to walk over, but another friend grabbed their arm and shook her head. They argued for a bit and his friend decided she was right and just sat back down. Just as well, he thought. He didn’t need anyone right now. Not a soul.

He watched as the coffin began its slow descent into the earth. Everyone was crying, blowing their noses. Its days like these, he thought, that keeps Kleenex in business. He thought he would at least have cried by now but he found himself surprisingly cold. It was as if something had died in his soul and taken the emotions away from him. He thought it was just as well. He didn’t think he could deal with everything if he had to feel too.

He watched in complete cool as they started to fill the grave with the dirt. It was as if he was being buried in there. He almost felt responsible for her death. It was like he had killed her with his own hands. In a way, he did. He replayed it in his mind over and over. What could he have done differently? If he could feel, would he feel guilty? Would he feel remorse?  He didn’t think he would ever know.

Just then, he noticed his friend break away from his wife and started walking toward him. His look was not sad, but instead very angry. He was clearly not coming over to offer his condolences.

“You killed her!” he said. He started screaming expletives and using some creative words before his wife came up and restrained him.

By then, the man in the sunglasses and fedora hat had tuned him out. It was as if he were watching a movie with the volume turned really low and in slow motion. He thought he felt nothing. And everyone was now watching the ruckus.

“You’re heartless!” yelled his friend. “Why don’t you at least come pay your respects? You’re not even showing a hint of emotion! You’re responsible for this! You give me back my sister! How can you call yourself her husband? You’re just heartless,” his brother-in-law said as he dropped to the ground weeping. “You give me back my sister you son-of-a-bitch.”

He watched his brother-in-law crying like a little child on the ground. He felt remorse. He knew he was responsible. He knew, because of his actions, Maggie had died. He knew very well who should be the one to pay. But there was nothing he could do. There was nothing that could bring her back. Give me back my sister he asks. He didn’t have the power (or the right!) to do such a thing. Did he even know what he was asking for?

Instead of responding, he turned away from him and started walking toward his car. He turned his back on his brother-in-law and the rest of the family, letting them think he didn’t care at all about Maggie. Let them believe what they want, he thought. I know the truth.

The rest of the family watched as he walked away. They watched with a little anger, but mostly sadness. Their thoughts were easily ascertained. What drove him to be like this, they thought. Why didn’t he at least shed a tear for poor little Maggie? Didn’t he at least love her?

Samuel kept walking, wondering what they thought of him. For a moment, he stopped. The family thought he was about to turn around and come back to them, but instead he only turned halfway and paused. Then he resumed walking to his car and quietly got in.

If only everyone was close enough to see the tears running down his face then.

She was happy. Her boyfriend had finally proposed to her. They had been seeing each other for over five years and it was about time, she thought. She walked down the street admiring her ring. It was a 2 carat ring, something her boyfriend shouldn’t really be able to afford. But there it was. In her revelry, she hadn’t been paying any attention when she ran into a man. Apologizing for her clumsiness, she didn’t notice the man dropping something into her purse. He hurried off. She felt annoyed at the man’s inattention to her apology. She thought there were many a people who could use a lesson in politeness.

Already forgotten, Cricket kept on walking down the street, oblivious to everything that just happened. She was just happy she was finally engaged. She fished her cell phone out of her pocket and called Sheila.  She asked her best friend she must meet her for shopping, as she had some great new to tell her. She told her to hurry and that she was already in the shopping district so she should meet her at the Chinese market they always went to. Now that her day was planned out, she started walking faster towards the market.

***

From across the street, the man in the dark trench coat had watched everything that had transpired, and was determined to get the object in Cricket’s purse. Of course, he didn’t know that was her name. Nor did he care. He was only interested in whatever was dropped in her purse. He guessed that today he would be a purse snatcher. Great, he thought, more trouble with the law. It was nothing new for him. He wasn’t exactly the nice type after all.

***

Cricket was browsing the wares in the Chinese market when yet another man bumped into her. Ok, this is getting really old, she thought, and spun around only to see the best looking man she had ever seen. She was instantly smitten. There was nothing flawed about him at all. He was even the perfect height. She was very short herself, and really preferred very tall men. There was something about a taller man that she loved.  He was looking down at her and apologized for bumping into her. He was just really very clumsy. She hardly heard him. She only nodded and told him it was all ok, even she’s clumsy on occasion. Kneeling down, he picked up her purse and handed it back to her. In the confusion she didn’t even realize she dropped it. She thanked him and they soon parted ways.

Soon after that, Sheila walked into the store and Cricket went to meet her. She immediately told Sheila about this man she literally bumped into. Laughing, Sheila asked her if that’s the great news she had to tell her. That good-looking man must have charmed her more than she thought. Cricket had totally forgotten the great news she had to share. Immediately she showed Sheila her ring. Sheila was excited, and jumping up and down, hugged her friend. The left the market and went to Sheila’s place instead to have a few drinks.

***

He opened up the small package the stranger had dropped into Cricket’s purse. It was a small black box. He smiled, knowing some of the tricks some people might leave in such a box. Instead of opening it, he put it on the table and drew a circle around it in chalk. Murmuring to himself, he snapped his fingers and the chalk line began to glow a bit and went out with a popping sound. Satisfied it was safe to open the box, he did so. Inside was a ring. He pondered the ring for a moment. He wondered what it was for. Was it a signet ring perhaps? He finally took it out of the box and studied it. It was a simple gold ring. It looked like it could have been a wedding ring, but it had the feel of being very, very old. It definitely looked as if it was taken care of.

Putting the ring back into the box, he sat back and wondered why the stranger had dropped it into Cricket’s purse. What was her story? Why was she important? And what was the ring for? Whose ring was it? He had many questions. He needed answers. Putting the black box into his coat pocket, he went out to find some.

I ran. I ran as fast as I could. I didn’t know what was following me, but I did know that I didn’t want it to catch me. So I ran. I have to admit that I’m not exactly in perfect shape, but I guess when you’re running for your life, you tend to run pretty fast.

I ran through alleyways and back streets, places I probably shouldn’t have been, but I knew that if it caught me, I was dead. I knew if I couldn’t lose it, I wouldn’t live to see the light of day. So I ran through restaurants, stores, anywhere, as long as I could try to shake off whatever was trying to follow me.

I stopped to catch a breath, and looked behind me. I was in an alleyway, and I could smell the distinct odor of trash from the dumpster next to me. But I had to catch my breath. I wasn’t going anywhere if I couldn’t breath. I didn’t see it anywhere. Did I lose it? Perhaps. I took out my cellphone and dialed the number for Frank. I desperately needed his help. I knew he would know what to do.

Damn. I got his answering machine. Now I’m really fucked.

Looking around, I realized that I wasn’t too far from his apartment. Maybe he was sleeping. Regardless, if I at least tried to get to his place and managed to get inside, I’d be ok. So I ran for his apartment.

Thinking back, I probably shouldn’t have opened that box. I knew it was something mystical. I knew it was not for the uninitiated. But no, arrogant me had to think I could handle it and anything it might throw at me. Oh no, was I wrong. When I found that box in front of my door, I wasn’t sure what to think. I mean, in this day and age, anything just left behind could be a bomb, or some kind of delivery system for the bubonic plague or something. But no, it looked harmless to me. It was only a black box.

It was a very black box. It almost seems to suck the light out of the area around it. It was really fascinating. I had to check it out. Of course, aren’t we all warned about “Pandora’s Box”? But that’s just a legend right? I’m gonna say no, because when I opened that box, the room got as cold as it could, and then a small mist escaped the opened box. I couldn’t even see what was inside of it because it was so dark. It was almost as if I was looking into the pit of the void itself. But when I saw that mist start to form into some kind of … something, I ran. I knew better. I just ran.

Which brings us to this predicament. Arriving at Franks place, I look around and I don’t see what’s been following me, so I take a breather and knock on his apartment door.

Now I’m not expecting to anyone to come to the door, since I’m assuming that he’s not home. But the door opened, but it wasn’t Frank. As a matter of a fact, I didn’t know who the hell this was at the door.

The old man looked at me all confused. He didn’t recognize me either, and why would he? “Can I help you?” he asked.

Confused, I answered, “I’m looking for Frank? He lives here.”

“Um, I think you have the wrong apartment buddy. I’ve been living here for ten years and I don’t know any Frank.” He slammed the door in my face.

Now, I’ve been coming to see Frank for help on paranormal stuff for 3 years now. He’s always been here to help me out in a situation if I ever needed it. So let me just say that I’m looking at the door thinking what the fuck?

I leave the building and look around. I have no idea what the hell I’m going to do now. I look around to be sure the thing is not following me still when my phone rings. I just about jump out of my skin.

“Julian, it’s Frank, you been trying to call me?”

“Thank god,” I said. “Dude, where are you? And did you move recently?”

“Uh, no I haven’t moved at all. I’m still living in the same apartment I’ve… oh shit.” I was not liking that tone.

“What, what the fuck?” I started to panic.

He sounded really anxious on the phone. “Did you go to my apartment and some old man answer the door?”

“Uh, yeah, what the hell was that all about?” I wasn’t liking this one bit.

He now sounded like he was about to have a heart attack. “Okay man, I’m gonna come get you but you gotta stay put. Don’t go anywhere! I can’t help you get out of there if I can’t find you. So I need you to stay where you are. You listening to me?”

“Yeah, yeah, stay here.” I was pretty sure I didn’t know where I was going to go at this point anyways. “But what do I do if it comes back looking for me?”

“What? If what comes back looking for you?”

“I don’t know, it was some kind of spirit or something. After I opened that black box, it came out in a mist and…”

“YOU HAD A BLACK BOX?” he practically strangled me through the phone.

“Um, yeah, it was at my door.”

If he was frantic before, he was in a frenzy now.

“Ok ok ok ok. You stay put, hide whatever. I’ll come get you and I’ll get you out of there. Stay put! And hide!” He hung up the phone.

So I went back into the building, hoping that I could hide there. I found a bench in the lobby and sat down. I was tired. I must have ran miles to get where I was. I didn’t even know I had it in me. I must have dozed off though, because before I knew it, Frank was bursting into the door all crazy.

“Julian! Holy shit man, I’ve been looking for you! You have gotta come with me right now! Come on! Hurry!”

I got up and we ran out of the building. We ran a short way and I started getting tired. It didn’t help that I was groggy from taking that short nap.

“Frank, we gotta stop,” I yelled out to him.

He stopped and turned and gave me a look of despair. It was as if he saw something behind me that frightened him to death. I slowly turned around and couldn’t believe my eyes.

It was a monster about the size of an elephant. It was like something out of Cthulhu. It had what could only be hundreds of tentacles, and a no visible head. It was like an octopus, except it was all tentacles. I could not believe my eyes. I turned immediately and started to run. Frank started running too, and started speaking in tongues.

I knew he was about to cast a spell, but I couldn’t imagine what he could pull on something that giant! I couldn’t tell you what it was, but it was scared the shit out of me.

All I knew was to keep running, and don’t stop no matter what. But suddenly, I started feeling light headed, and it was like a blanket of drowsiness had been laid on top of me. I felt myself collapse onto the ground, and I knew I had to have hit it hard because I was running pretty fast. Before I knew it, everything faded to black, and I lost consciousness.

When I awoke, I was in a small white room. There was nothing in there but me. There didn’t appear to be any doors, and I was laying on the floor. I looked around and couldn’t find anything. It was just white walls, white floor, white ceiling, and no furniture, nothing. Just a room. It’s as if the room were just built around me. I started knocking on the walls, and I could tell they sounded a bit hollow everywhere. So where was I?

Suddenly, the ceiling opened up, as if it was a lid lifting up. I looked up and saw the face of Frank, as if he was a giant! What the hell? was my only thought.

“Frank? Is that you? What the hell is going on?” I yelled out.

He smiled and said to me, “Julian, welcome to my collection. I’ve been looking for someone like you to put into my black box. Of course, you realize it was all a ploy to get you into my possession. I’m really sorry, but I could use a human with your powers to add to my collection of power. I’m sure you won’t mind if you spend eternity in that white room would you? Oh don’t worry, you won’t be able to see the walls once I close the ceiling. You’ll get accustomed to the darkness. I’m told it takes a few years but you’ll get used to it.”

He laughed at me while he closed the ceiling and plunged me into total darkness.

I stood there watching her as she walked down the aisle. She was beautiful. Her dress was beautiful. I’d never seen her in it before of course, so I was not sure what to expect. I shifted a little just so I could watch her walking down the aisle a little better. I don’t think I’ve ever seen a woman so beautiful, so radiant in my life. Her smile lit up the room, and her father had the biggest smile on his face. They took their time walking down, and I recounted in my head the first time we met.

We met through mutual friends, and we all started hanging around each other quite a bit. We had our movie nights, dinner nights, and just going out nights. We had some fun. It was something else. I knew there was a connection right away. We loved the same songs, we loved the same actors and comedians. We totally clicked. It was almost like we had known each for years before we even met. It was really great.

Who knew that one day, I’d be the one to introduce her to the man she would eventually marry. Standing next to John, I was very envious. He would finally get to tie the knot with the most beautiful woman in the world. He looks so happy right now. I’m really so glad that they both have their happiness.

When she finally gets to the altar, I barely hear what’s going on. I’m instantly caught up in their love. You can tell from the looks of both of them that they are very happy.

But, it’s almost not fair. Where is the love of my life? I know that she’s marrying my best friend, but why must it be him? I love her so much. I know that I’m doing the right thing by supporting them, right? But what about me? Where is my happy wedding? I know someday it will come. But it just seems so unfair that my friend should be so lucky, and not me. I did meet her first after all, right?

But what if. What if I could change all that. What if I had made different decisions at the key points in time? Would I be the one standing up there with her exchanging vows and rings? If only. If only I could go back in time to change a few things I did differently. If I didn’t introduce the two of them, what would it be like today?

This is a crosspost from cybrpunk.com.

I remember one time when I was eight years old and my parents took me to a county fair. It wasn’t our county as ours didn’t have fairs worth mentioning but the next nearest one to us. They always had the best fairs with ponies, demolition derbies, funnel cakes, lemonade and my personal favorite: a magician.

Since as long as I could remember at that point, I was fascinated with magicians. My Dad always harrumphed and said it was all fake, but at least Mom encouraged my fantasies as a child. When I went to a see a magician, I’d hang on their every word and their every motion. I’d gasp at the appropriate times and clap like a lunatic at the end of the show. To me, magic was real and I knew that when I grew up, I would be a great magician too. That is, until the county fair.

You see, up till that point I had always been a spectator. Spectators are safe in their seats and safe in the knowledge that it’s just a show, no matter what their beliefs. That day however, the magician asked for a volunteer. As fascinated as I was with magic, for some reason I didn’t want to be a volunteer. Something about this man on stage sent my skin crawling up and down my spine when he looked at me. I did not raise my hand and tried to make myself as small as possible as the other children frantically waved their arms in the arms in the air while simultaneously making sounds like constipated monkeys. I would have crawled in my Mother’s pocket at that point if I could have. I watched the magician cover his eyes with one hand and make a grand gesture of pointing out at the audience and sweeping his hand back and forth across the crowd. And when his finger stopped while it was pointing in my direction I knew that it must have been one of the other children with their arms in the air that he meant. He uncovered his eyes and his eyes immediately locked with mine.

“Come on up, boy!” called the man from the stage. He grinned at me and the assembly of kids exhaled in a single disappointed sigh.

I looked at my Dad and he said “Go on up, boy” without even turning to look at me. He never called me ‘boy’. I swung my head around to look at my Mom and she looked all excited and started pushing at my back while saying “Go on dear, you’re holding up the show.” She knew how much I liked magic so she must have assumed that I would live for this moment. I told her I didn’t want to go but she pushed me hard enough to stand me up from the bench. Standing I felt the envious stares of every child in the crowd. Again my Mother started pushing me as the man on stage called out “Come on boy, you’re holding up the show.” I did a double-take between him and my Mom and I think I started shaking.

I’m not sure which was worse: the feeling I got that something weird was going on or the ridicule I would take from the other kids for ruining the show. I wanted to turn and run but I decided to be the brave young man instead and slowly trudged my way to the steps leading to the stage. As I mounted the steps, the crowd cheered for me as the magician called out “Let’s hear it for our volunteer!”

Now up until this point, I hadn’t seen an assistant or anything of the sort on stage. Most of the tricks he’d done were pretty standard fare with nothing more than the props he kept on a small table to his right. However as I reached the top of the stairs I noticed that there was now a large box behind him that wasn’t there before. I know that he hadn’t moved and I didn’t see anyone else on stage but that box was now there and it was impossible to miss. It was the size of a large trunk and painted in bright purples, yellows and greens in mysterious patterns. I snapped my view to the edge of the stage near the curtain.I thought I saw something in the corner of my eye: something small and shadowy sneaking off backstage. Of course there was nothing there when I looked.

The magician gently grabbed my shoulder and turned me towards the audience. He spoke into the microphone and asked me my name. I just stared at him when he swung the mic to me but before I could say anything he brought the mic back to his own mouth and said “Chris, you say? That’s an excellent name!” He was right. Chris is my name but I never told him that. I looked out at my parents and my Mom just waved and smiled and my father barely nodded an acknowledgment. Maybe my parent’s talked to the man next to me before the show. That’s the only thing that made sense. The man started talking again.

“The trick you are about to see is a very difficult one to perform at such a venue. This is a common stage for all performances and I cannot have set anything up ahead of time. So what you will witness will seem very strange indeed. I will place this boy in the box you see behind me. I will then cast my magic spell and open the box and he will have disappeared!” At a gesture the colorful box behind us collapsed as the walls all fell outwards to reveal absolutely nothing inside. The audience “Ooooh’d” appropriately.

“I will then re-assemble the box,” again I found myself doing a double-take as I looked at the box again and saw it was completely whole again, ” and cast my spell to bring the boy back to us once more. Where will he go? No one knows, but fear not, he will return to us completely unharmed.” I remember wondering why no one else seems to have noticed the box. I also remembering that I thought maybe stuff was just going on behind me and I wasn’t noticing. Either way I wished I could be anywhere but on that stage at the time.

The audience clapped as he turned me around to face the box and opened the top lid. It looked pretty solid to me and I couldn’t even see the seams where it came apart earlier. The interior of the box was painted solid black. It looked ordinary enough on the inside and it was certainly large enough for someone my size to crawl in without too much discomfort. For a moment I had actually thought maybe everything was perfectly normal and that my overactive imagination had just gotten the better of me. I relaxed a bit and stepped inside. Nothing unusual. He told me to lie down, pull my knees up to my chest and wrap my arms around my legs. He said it would help but with what he didn’t say. He turned to the audience once more and I could hear him speaking just above me.

“Ladies and gentlemen, you just saw young Chris enter the box. Chris, raise your hand up and wave to the people.” I did as he asked and hoped that I was waving in the correct direction. “Now if everyone will be as quiet as possible, I will begin.”

He looked down at me as he was closing the lid and he winked at me and said “Good luck.” My panicked thoughts started up again as the lid closed and the sounds of his voice became quite muffled in the utter blackness inside the box. I started feeling around the bottom of the box for any sort of lever or handhold or something to trigger my disappearance. I’d seen enough magic acts to have a basic idea as to how some of the tricks worked. There should be some panel or something that opens to drop me below the stage just before the box falls open again. I remember how worried I was getting and how frantic my clawing for anything was getting and I feared that when the box fell open everyone would see me curled up in the middle of it and the trick would be ruined. I stopped to take a breath and I could hear the magician’s voice from outside. Just barely at first but louder and louder as he kept repeating some chant over and over. I couldn’t understand what he was saying but I had the sudden sensation that it was getting cold. It was 96 degrees outside in the dead of summer and I was lying stuck in a box with no ventilation and I was shivering. I knew that if I could see anything that it would be my own breath fogging up the interior and my teeth began to chatter. And then all of the sudden the chanting from outside stopped. I heard a loud smack on the top of the lid and the world fell out from beneath me.

For an instant I felt secure in that dropping sensation as it meant the trapdoor I couldn’t find had opened and I would be hitting some hay bales under the stage. Except that never happened. I felt like I was falling for what must have been a minute before the feeling of falling gave way to an almost weightless feeling. I could make out dim shapes and glows in the distance but I couldn’t tell the length of any given distance I saw. I remember looking all around me and it seemed like I was falling through storm clouds so black that no light could get through. I even saw flashes of dim light in the blackness that caught my attention but it didn’t look like lightning. It was from one of those flashes that I saw the things that have haunted my nightmares for the past twenty years.

From every direction I saw patches of shadow twist upon each other until they formed what could best be described as a human shape. They were made of living darkness with long fingers ending in hooks and blades and long tentacles of shadow flowing wildly from what passed for their heads. They showed no eyes or mouth or anything else but they had no problem approaching me. Their bodies tapered out into long snake-like lengths of darkness that faded into the surroundings. And as they got closer, I realized that I could now see my breath.

They came from every direction and stopped within feet of me to get a better look. They were behind, above, below and in front of me and I floated there. I tried to speak but found I had no voice. I could feel my mouth and throat doing what I asked but there was an absolute absence of sound. The creature closest to me moved in closer and looked at me face to face. My gasping breath made tiny ripples in its cloudlike form and it raised a hand and touched my cheek with the back of one taloned finger. I could feel the pressure of its touch and I turned my face away. I’m not sure how but it was then I saw it’s head change shape ever so slightly so that it looked like it was smiling, even without a face. I looked around and saw the same thing on every one of the creatures. The one in front of me backed away just a bit and just floated there for a moment. That was probably the last sane moment of my life.

The creature before me raised a hand and pressed a knife-like finger against my chest. It slashed that single finger across my body and didn’t realize that anything had happened till I looked down. A long cut was visible diagonally across my t-shirt and blood was already staining the fabric. And with the realization of what had happened came the pain. I tried to scream again but still nothing happened.

One creature each took one of my arms and held them straight out while another two each grabbed my legs and held them out as well. Their claws and blades and hooks for fingers digging into my wrists and ankles shredded the flesh and ground against my bones. My silent screams continued as my blood flowed away in every direction. I felt a claw rake against my back and pain turned my vision red as it happened again. The creature in front of me slowly reached out a hand and pushed its fingers through my t-shirt and my stomach just below my lowest ribs. I could feel flesh and muscle being slowly torn as it forced it’s hand deeper inside me. My breathing became painful from the shifting inside my body. I could feel it wrapping it’s claws around my lower ribs and the indescribable pain was making me light headed but I couldn’t faint. I looked down at the arm sticking out from my chest and saw past that another claw tear open my calf and rip out a chunk of muscle and tendons just above my socks. I felt tearing in both my arms and when I looked I saw more creatures cutting with knife fingers or hooking and tearing away strips of flesh or hunks of meat. It was when the one in front of me put its other hand against my chest that I returned my gaze at its face. It still looked like it was smiling as it ripped it other hand free. The entire left side of my body felt like it was on fire as I watched the thing blindly stare at the handful of broken rib bones in its hand.

Looking at my body there wasn’t a single spot not covered in blood or gaping wounds. My blood was flowing and making in droplets in mid air and I watched as the things continued to tear me to pieces. They never touched my head or face so I was able to watch the whole thing. I saw the exposed bones in my arms twist and rotate as I struggled to escape. I felt every wound inflicted on me and even when the flow of blood stopped I still watched. I knew I should have fainted long before and I should have been dead by that point but somehow I was still conscious and alive. And just as quickly as they had started, they all stopped at once. The creatures at my hands and feet released what was left of me and they all floated away from me. I’m not even sure when they faded away and became one with the amorphous world I was in but they were gone just the same and there I floated in nothingness. I tried to move my arms and legs and felt nothing but pain. One of my feet was dangling by a shred of flesh and nothing more. One of my hands was bent complete backwards against my arm. I couldn’t even cry. I was in shock.

Then came the first noise I had heard since the smack on the lid. It was the faint sound of a man chanting that could have been coming from anywhere. The sound grew louder and louder as the voice repeated the words over and over and I saw even the slight dim light of this world start to fade. I distinctly felt like I was falling once more and the pain increased even more than I could have imagined possible. The chanting became even louder and more persistent and it felt like I was picking up speed. Slowly the pain subsided and was replaced by a horrible itching over my whole body. I pulled my legs up to my chest and wrapped my arms around them and the chanting came to a crescendo and stopped. I felt a solid surface slam against my side as my fall abruptly stopped and I found myself lying in utter blackness. I could feel sweat roll down my neck as my body tried to adjust to the extreme temperature difference.

I was blinded by the sunlight streaming down on me when the box collapsed around me. As my eyes slowly adjusted, I saw the magician standing next to me with his arm outstretched towards me. I heard it when he said, “And here he is once more ladies and gentlemen! Safe and sound and completely unharmed!”

I was still clutching my legs to my chest as I saw the crowd burst into applause and cheers. Couldn’t they see what had been done to me? Couldn’t they see that I was covered in my own blood? And I moved my arms to see that they were completely intact. I sat upright and saw that I didn’t have a mark on me except for some minor tears in my t-shirt and shorts. And even those seemed to disappear as I continued to look myself over. The magician took me by the arm and helped me to my feet. I looked and saw my parents standing in the audience, clapping for all they were worth. They had no idea what had happened to me. They had no idea what I had been through. They thought it was just a trick. It was with that realization that I remember falling to the ground and that’s the last memory I have of my childhood.

I woke up roughly three years later after being in a coma that no one could explain. No one except me, but no one would listen. I had years of therapy and appointments with psychologists and psychiatrists. I still see a shrink today only not as often. Now it’s just to keep the medications up to date. I’ve never been able to hold a steady job or keep a relationship for more than a few weeks at best. No one has ever believed a single word I’ve ever told them regarding what happened to me. Even now I wonder if I’ve exaggerated any of the details because I’ve been told for so long that it never happened. I’ve traveled all over the country, by any means I could find, looking for that magician. If I ever find him, I’ll make him tell me what he did to me that day. If I ever find him, I’ll make him tell me what I want. The collection of knives and hooks and other tools I keep in my backpack will make sure of that. And the smiling face that will haunt his dreams from that point on will be mine.

The only light in the kitchen came from the refrigerator as he opened the door. Looking around for something to eat, Tony Scatturo hummed to himself as the cool air fell across the kitchen floor. He was restless tonight. Tomorrow there was his first day on the job, and he didn’t want to mess this one up. Tony had just moved out to this wilderness reservation when he received the news that he had been hired on as the new help in a nearby shelter.

Finally settling on some leftover pizza, he closed the door, plunging the kitchen into total darkness. He slowly made his way out into the living room, where the TV awaited. He fumbled around, a slice of pizza hanging out of his mouth, looking for the remote control. That’s when he heard it.

He froze in place, and waited to see if he was just hearing things or if he would hear it again. After a short time, he gave up trying. Blaming his imagination, he continued to look for the remote control.

Finally finding the remote nestled between the cushions of the couch, he sat down, the slice of pizza now mostly eaten. Just as he was about to turn the TV on, he heard it again. The howl of a wolf – but this time, it was closer.

He went to look outside the living room window, knowing he’d probably not see anything on this cloudy and dark night. Living in the woods is great and all, he thought, but holy shit, it’s really spooky out here.

He didn’t see anything outside, so he turned back to hit the couch and watch some TV. Just then he heard a big CLUNK from the kitchen and nearly jumped out of his skin in fright, only to realize it was the automatic icemaker in the refrigerator dropping ice into the ice bin.

Chuckling to himself, he sat down on the couch, slice of pizza now fully eaten. He began channel surfing. To his disappointment, there was nothing to watch on TV this late at night except infomercials.

“There’s never a damn thing on TV,” he said to the empty room. Then he heard something again.

This time it wasn’t the howl of a wolf. It was more like a scratching sound. It sounded like nails scratching wood. It was coming from behind him, in the kitchen. It was like something was scratching at the back door. He went to go investigate, but not before he picked his shotgun up near the front door. He had bought one when the other day as he was moving in. You can never be too safe in the woods.

Slowly, he made his way to the back door. He could still hear the scratching sound. It was something pawing at the door, trying to get in. Probably some damn raccoon, he thought.

He stopped to get his flashlight as well. He might need it when he looked outside for that raccoon. The batteries seemed to be dead, since the flashlight was not turning on at all. He hit the flashlight with the heel of his hand a few times, and it came on in a flash. At the same time, the scratching stopped

He thought to investigate further, but he’s seen all the movies. When you open the door, they come after you. Tony wasn’t going to fall for that sucker move. He was going to stay put, inside, where it was safe.

So he shut off the flashlight, turned around, only to come face to face with a silver-grey wolf the size of a large mastiff. In sheer horror and surprise, Tony threw up the shotgun and the flashlight into the air and fell back on the floor, and crawled backwards until his head hit the back door.

“Go away now!” he screamed, as the wolf began growling. “There’s nothing for you here! Go! Go away!” He waved his arms to try to scare the wolf away.

The wolf instead took a step closer, and began growling, a deep sound. It was definitely not a pleased to meet you sound. Tony tried to stand back up, but the wolf inched a little closer as he tried to get up. He couldn’t understand it. Wolves don’t attack humans. And they certainly don’t open doors and enter houses. Flabbergasted, he slowly tried to reach the knob to the back door, so he could try to make a break out of the house.

The wolf watched Tony as he opened the back door, never moving from his position. Relieved, Tony managed to crawl backwards out the back door. As he closed the door in front of him, the wolf cocked its head to the side, as if he was trying to understand what Tony was doing.

As the door clicked shut, he heard the wolf inside immediately start barking and began attacking the door. He had made it out. He let out a sigh of relief. He was safe with the wolf inside the house, and he was outside. He stopped though. He couldn’t get a small creeping question out of his head. Do wolves hunt in packs? Turning slowly around, he finally heard the growls of a small pack of wolves behind the house.

“Oh shit on me.”

I remember the stories that I had once forgotten. When we were little, our parents and relatives and neighbors and friends would tell us gruesome tales of witches and ghosts; goblins and haints. The stories usually had some moral to them to try and scare us into not doing things they didn’t want us to do. Don’t stay up all night and read comics by flashlight because the boogeyman will come out of your closet and eat you. Don’t wander in the woods alone or the trees will come alive and snatch you away. Don’t leave the refrigerator door open or a witch will cook you and eat you. Don’t drink directly out of the milk carton or… well you get the idea. When we were little these things scared us and haunted our days and nights.

Then we got older and we suspected everything and we knew better than everyone. We were teens and we knew everything and the last thing we wanted to hear was some old superstition. Growing out of childhood makes you forget the old fears and their sources. We didn’t have time to worry about ghosts or witches. Aside from the occasional dare to stare into a mirror and say “Bloody Mary” three times, we left those childish things behind.

Then we became adults and we don’t even remember the stories that we were told anymore. The world is a scary enough place without needing to tell our kids about monsters of fantasy. Nowadays you tell your kids not to play in the playground alone or a scary person may drag you off never to be seen again. Don’t chat with strangers online or they may track you down and kill you and your family. Don’t open e-mails from people you don’t know or a virus could wipe out years worth of data. These are the things parents fear now. These things were the things I feared, however idly that may have been… until now.

It seems the old monsters did exist and they never went away. Some have adapted to the changing times. Some have stuck to the old ways and maybe even others have resigned and faded into obscurity. But the thing slamming its body over and over into the door at my back… that one is very real. And I believe it when it speaks in its raspy growling voice and says that it can smell my fear. I believe it with all my heart. And if I survive this night, I will never forget another fairy tale or superstition for as long as I live. If I live through this, I will have no choice but to believe. I can hear the wood splintering behind me though and I see no other way out. This monster… this superstition that hunted me down for being in the wrong place at the wrong time… this is how it ends. And if what I saw the night before is any indication, it’s also only the beginning.