The Crawling Thing

[Published in Enigmatic Tales]

I have this recurring dream. I am walking along a dark corridor which appears to go on forever, stretching all the way to infinity, it seems. Surrounding me are hundreds and hundreds of doors, none of them open, although I fancy that behind each one is a horror too awful to speak of. The doors themselves are barely evident in the gloom, and indeed I only notice them because of the thin strips of light which run along the edges of each. These lights are identical, and take the form of a strange glow, a deep red in colour, and entirely devilish in appearance. I guess that a kind of hideous entity is lurking inside every room, bearing this vivid gleam of red, and I do not wish to find out whether this is true or untrue. Yet for some dark reason I know that one of those doors is waiting for me, and that I will be forced to choose one in the end. I cannot imagine what peculiar terror awaits me once I have chosen, my brain is in turmoil the whole time that I creep along that corridor. After advancing for what seems like hours I suddenly stop in silence before one of those doors. And somehow I know that I am doomed.
I hold my breath as I grip the coldness of the knob and twist it in my sweating palm, simultaneously pushing the thing inwards. The brightness increases as the interior of that room becomes exposed, and a severe iciness hits me fully in the face. The horror then becomes evident to my weary eyes, and my screaming breaks the silence. A chill causes me to shiver as I remain spellbound and petrified in that doorway. Imagine the pain I feel inside as I find myself gazing upon a morbid collection of figures lying huddled against cold walls of stone. Each of them is very, very dead. The skin of their faces is almost peeled right to the bone, and I nearly retch when I spot the grotesque sight of their chests, for every one has been viciously ripped apart by what I guess to be some kind of sharp instrument. There are dozens of these corpses, the room being an
extraordinary graveyard for these unfortunate souls. Naturally I am horrified, and I feel a disturbing weakness of the knees. I am unable to avert my gaze from these wretches, and although I cannot recognise their faces, I do feel that I ought to know them.
I really ought to know them.

I was in my bedroom dreaming of Leanne when I first spotted that crawling thing. It was a Sunday morning, a very lazy day for me, and as I lay beneath the bedsheets it sort of sneaked across the periphery of my vision, like a fleeting shadow. It could have been that I was not fully awake, and that I imagined the creature, but subsequent events were to prove this notion was incorrect. I saw it all right - I saw it only too well.
Leanne and I had spent the previous evening at a restaurant, and then afterwards we had returned to her home for coffee. What a playboy existence I lead! Or rather, I did lead. The presence of her parents hindered any thoughts I had of intimacy, yet I was content to merely be with her, adoring the prettiness of her features and the charms she possessed, the delightful flash of white teeth as she laughed, and the way she flicked her wavy hair from out of her eyes. We were both hopelessly in love, and indeed she often remarked, purely in jest, that our love was so insane that it would eventually lead to our downfall. She always had this uncanny talent for uttering the truth.
I can picture her now. Such amazing memories will never elude my mind. She is wearing that little white dress, and just the right amount of make-up, and those heels I always adored her in. The glossy lipstick she liked to wear reminded me of those film actresses from the forties and fifties, the ones who had talent as well as beauty. Leanne could dance like the devil - and I would watch her like a demon.
That creepy thing lingered in one place, twitching and endeavouring to conceal itself, cautiously observing the room. Still I considered it to be a figment of some nightmare I must have been having. I dared not confront it in case it did turn out to be real. So I remained in bed, covered by those warm sheets, and tried to cast it to the back of my mind until I was fully awake. I didn't really want it to be something genuine, and so I closed my eyes and invited some more sleep. This was my lazy day, and no image of any crawling thing was going to spoil it.
I dismissed it at my peril, and now I wished that I had faced that particular horror head on.
Later in the day I met Leanne at her place, but the topic of conversation was not one we would have normally chosen. Indeed, if I had known what kind of destiny awaited us, if I could have miraculously seen into the near future, I would have steered the conversation in an entirely different direction. I would have changed the talk to the subject of our relationship, our undying love for each other, our plans for the months and years ahead, yet all the time knowing that these things could never happen. I would have remained silent much of the time, allowing Leanne to talk and talk and talk, so that I could just listen to her charming tones, and revel in the sound of that voice. And as the minutes passed I would gaze into her eyes, secretly constructing an image of that face inside my memory, so that whenever I closed my eyes I could picture those delicate features. Yet I am no clairvoyant, and so we were compelled to speak not of life, but of death.
During the hours of the previous night the old couple in the flat next to mine had been hideously murdered. It was on the news and everything, and when I had left my own flat I had witnessed the sight of police and ambulance people and others in suits and long faces. A man who described himself as a detective asked me questions, but I honestly could not help him, for I had heard not a thing during the night. As the day went by the cold truth of the matter unfolded. Some vicious intruder had entered the place and horribly killed them both before tearing them open and removing their hearts. Immediately a picture entered my brain, a grotesque image from that recurring nightmare I had been having, and at that moment I realised that this could have been no ordinary murder.
I was distraught and shaking terribly, and Leanne did her utmost to comfort me. It worked to some degree, for I was pleased to be in her company, and this helped to calm me somewhat. I had known that couple quite well, we had spoken many times, admittedly only of the weather and the price of things today, but I believed them to be a charming couple, and so I was naturally distressed at the awful news. And all the while, as Leanne wrapped her arms and her scent around me, I was unable to shake that crawling thing from out of my mind.
When I arrived home in the evening I saw it again, lurking in some shadows. I caught a better glimpse this time, and I then came to admit to myself that it was real, and that my eyesight was not deceiving me. I had just entered the hallway of the flat, and was about to switch on the light, when I spied this odd creature hiding in the semi-darkness. I immediately stepped back in fright, and quickly flicked the switch, inviting the welcoming light. It was strangely silent in that place, and there was no sign of it anywhere. I was afraid to venture further, and lingered upon the threshold for some while. But then I glanced outside, and as I gazed at the police ticker tape that surrounded next door a bizarre chill spread throughout my entire body. Swiftly I closed the door and came inside, shutting out the horror and the lingering smell of death.
I took off my coat, and noticed my reflection in the hallway mirror. I looked terrible! But then my eyes must surely have been playing dreadful tricks on me, because my image in that mirror strangely began to shimmer and dance around, as if some odd transfiguration were taking place. Seconds later this ceased, and my reflection returned to that of my shaking self. I was so agitated that I dashed into the kitchen and snatched the bottle of Teachers that I kept strictly for medicinal purposes. This I nursed for the rest of the evening, until the clock struck midnight and I chose to venture into sleep, and that ghastly nightmare I kept having.
The following morning I awoke with a huge hangover, and as I was cursing myself for this I realised that it was Monday, and that I was going to be late for work. Yet that did not seem too important compared to what had occurred next door. My head was pulsating as I pulled my tired bones from under the sheets, and when I sat on the edge of the bed and began to rub my eyes I was certain that I saw that creature again. It was over by the wardrobe, quiet and still. A dark, crouching figure that somehow I recognised. But in a flash it was gone, leaving me to seriously question my sanity. And as this thought ran through my head I noticed the sounds of a commotion coming from outside.
There had been more murders in the night. The poor occupants of the flat on the other side to mine had been killed in identical fashion to the old couple. The young man, his partner and their child had all been slaughtered by the same mad person, the one who had torn out those hearts had struck once more. How can I describe the feeling that lurked inside me? How can I tell of the awful lurch within my stomach, the horrible, sickly feeling that I was suffering? I had never known so much death, and so close to me. Further questions were posed by poe-faced detectives, yet I was not able to offer them much assistance or information. The only thing that I craved was the company and warmth that Leanne could provide. She was my only saviour in all of this. Yet I could not help thinking that some awful fate was waiting in the immediate future.
I did not know whether to be delighted when Leanne and her parents invited me to stay at their house for a while until my mind became more settled. My unease was evident in my demeanour, for I had taken to trembling and suffering terrific headaches almost the whole time. I am not certain if this was because I feared the same thing happening to me. It obviously appeared too much of a coincidence that the deaths should have occurred in homes so close to each other. Perhaps I was anxious because of the appearance of the crawling thing, and so I packed some things together and set off with Leanne to her home.
I did not go into work, inventing some imaginary sickness so that I did not have to face that daily grind. My nerves were on edge, and as I was genuinely getting plenty of headaches, it was with no amount of guilt that I declined to make that journey into work for a couple of days. Leanne was a virtual rock, playing the strong one, looking after me in my hour of need. I was able to relax at her place, well away from the prowling detectives and the presence of afterdeath that was loitering around the area outside the flat. But still I thought of the creeping, lurking thing, and all the horror that it was probably responsible for. I had to be certain - I had to discover the truth. But how?
Sleeping beside Leanne in her threequarter bed was simply astounding. With my arms around her hot flesh I drifted into dreams that I felt I did not deserve to enjoy. There was no rolling around beneath the covers, indulging in that private thing, for I was still too perturbed about events. I was merely content to be next to her, dozing and wallowing in those marvellous dreams. Yet this peacefulness was not to last. On the second night I found that the recurring nightmare had decided to re-enter my skull, scaring me half to death in the process. I opened that dark door to face those bleeding corpses, those vile features of death facing me in that glow of redness. And I was sure that I recognised one of those dead figures as none other than - Leanne?
"Nnnooo!!!" I cried out, and awoke instantly in half-darkness, perspiring heavily and shivering as though I had some kind of horrible fever.
Leanne stirred immediately, and switched on the lamp at her side of the bed. She clenched her arms around me, holding me close to her breast, and as I sobbed uncontrollably I could not ascertain the words she was speaking in my ear. The nightmares were getting worse, and frightening me terribly, but at least I had not seen the creeping thing since moving into Leanne's house. I thought too soon...
There it was, attempting to conceal itself in some shadows in front of Leanne's wardrobe. How ugly it looked! It was naked and hunched, its head bowed as if in shame, and it was of human size, although it was more subhuman than human. On all fours it crouched, daring not to scutter away like a giant insect, instead remaining in view of the both of us. I reached across to put on the lamp at my bedside, and as I did so I saw it move. To say that I was not frightened would be telling a lie. I was very afraid.
Did Leanne see it? Could she see the same as I? I am not sure, but I am certain that she did observe the thing in the end, and all the terrors it possessed. She felt it - the full, awful horror of it all.
"Look!" I yelled, pointing my finger. But then, because of the light within the room, I was able to witness the awesome truth, and it sent a horrid shiver through my veins, for that appalling thing - it was inside the mirror of Leanne's wardrobe. It was my own reflection in that glass!
If a man can howl as loudly as I did then I am yet to meet him, and I doubt if I ever will. I did not think that I would ever cease the incessant noise that left my lips. My brain was in complete torment as the thing then chose to raise its head slightly, and I observed my own face, albeit twisted into a kind of contortion of flesh and bone. And then I saw the lethal-looking talons on each of its hands and feet, twitching and curling on the carpet inside the mirror. I am sure that it then grinned, an evil smirk that sent a shudder down my spine. Its teeth - they appeared as sharp as razors. And still I screamed.
I do not know how Leanne was feeling at that moment. Selfishly my thoughts concentrated on that mysterious figure. I did not even glance her way, instead my eyes were affixed to the mirror and the monstrosity within. Then I suddenly began to feel faint, and my head became dizzy, and I found myself drifting along some supernatural highway, surrounded by darkness, and I imagined I had fallen asleep and was about to witness that fantastic dream. But then a light came, so that I could see. And I did see. I saw it all. Although I wish that I had not.
I gazed into the mirror once more, and watched the creature as it crawled over to the bed and leapt on to the sheets. I shrieked upon seeing those talons tearing into Leanne's breasts, ripping apart her flesh, baring her insides in all their repulsive glory. I was unable to hear her screams. I repeatedly banged my clenched, sweating fists against the glass, my brain filled with helplessness and frustration. For I was watching from inside the mirror, hopelessly trapped in a way that I did not understand. That sinful being had somehow changed places with me!
Powerless, I saw it grab hold of Leanne's heart and tug it from her. Powerless, I saw it bear its frightful teeth, and begin to chew and gnaw at that bleeding object. Powerless, I saw it bite chunks and swallow them, with blood dripping on to the bedsheets and what remained of Leanne's body. I wanted my eyes to be deceiving me. I wanted this to be some dire nightmare, far worse than any I had ever experienced. I just wanted to wake up, and escape from this, with my love sleeping next to me. But alas, it was real. It did happen.
The dizziness arrived again, and I was captured by that dreamy atmosphere, swirling around inside my own skull, until eventually I surfaced upon the bed. Still coming to my senses, I saw the thing creep away into that mysterious place inside the mirror, vanishing - until the next time. Then my attentions turned to Leanne. Or rather, what remained of her, the blood and guts lying beside me. A dead soul minus a heart. That describes Leanne - and it could also describe myself.
I still have that dream sometimes. And when I open the door, and see those corpses, I always search for her, although I do not always find her. But I do find other people that I used to know. I am trying to understand this crawling thing. Is it me? Or another version of me that dwells inside mirrors? The hearts it steals - they appear to be its lifeblood. I will never forget the sight of it devouring Leanne's. The killings continue, and the detectives think that I am responsible, although they cannot produce the evidence required. Her parents also blamed me, until they were both discovered with their hearts missing. I have not left this flat in weeks, existing as some kind of living zombie, watching each day go by. I miss Leanne, that goes without saying. And another thing - I have smashed all the mirrors in this place. I do not wish to see that creature any more, it is spawned purely from evil. I do know that it is out there, feeding on the hearts of innocent folk. And strange as it might seem, I believe that I can actually taste the blood that it swallows. As though it really is me that is responsible for the murders. Yet what is most upsetting to me is the fact that I am beginning to like that taste...