The Night Creeper

The Night Creeper
-by Tom Reese

He was driving down the highway on a dark, foggy night with no destination or any idea as to why he was even driving. The urge to get away from everything was strong; away from his life. Away from the memories that tore at his insides. He felt like a rat trapped in a well. It tried to claw its way out to no avail.

Jeff Ryan noticed the full moon as he drove in his beat up Ford. The refreshing smell of the woods in the air drifted through the open window. His eyes on the road and foot on the pedal, he drove through the night. He knew he couldn't go back. To do so would drive him mad. So he kept driving.

Trees surrounded him. He was driving on a narrow strip road that twisted and turned through the woods. He did not know this road, nor had he located it on any map. But he didn't care, he kept on driving. He didn't care about many things. He now did not care for his home, his job, or his friends. He did not care for his wife, or his child. But it was all ready too late to do anything. He just kept on driving.

His eyes felt like a stack of bricks supported only by a tiny thread. But he knew he had to stay awake. The road was not all that straight as he sped at 50 mph. If he were to close his eyes for even a second-it would be the end of this little joy ride. To try to keep himself awake, he constantly glanced at his watched, seen only by the light of the moon. Three long, excruciating hours had passed. Three hours since the tragedy. He thought about what he had done, wondering how he could have. Then his concentration returned to the road and nothing else as one hot tear rolled down his face.

He couldn't take it any more. His eyes felt like a ticking bomb about to go off, his conscience tearing its way to his heart. He stopped the car, turned off the ignition, and cried. He cried until his eyes were completely dry and no more tears could fall. He then dozed off into the peace of sleep.

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Jeff sat at his desk, a typewriter loaded with paper in front of him, as was his normal routine. But he just sat there and stared out the window. All he saw was darkness. The darkness gave him chills. He thought that anything could happen in the darkness. Things could appear out of nowhere, or disappear to nothing. Things could get lost in the darkness, and can never escape. They could become one with the darkness.
He never went out at night. He would always be inside the house by dusk. Some might say it was a superstition, another might say it was a phase. But he knew what happened in the dark, and feared every bit of it. It was when he was a young child that his mother told him the story of the Night Creeper. He had never been more scared in his life. He remembered it exactly as she had told it to him.

"The little boy wandered into the woods in the middle of the night, disregarding his parent's wishes, and walked to his favorite spot in the woods. It was a little clearing in the woods that no one, but he, knew of. There he played his little games. Whether it was to build things with twigs, or tried to climb trees to the very top to look out over the whole spectacular forest, he felt like all his dreams come true there. This was his favorite spot. This was where he felt was his real home. He felt like he could stay in this spot forever and be happy.

"This particular night, the boy decided to walk to it at midnight. He didn't know why, but it was a feeling from the inside of him that he couldn't resist. He left his house, after his parents told him not to, close to midnight. When he arrived, he sat down against his favorite tree, the largest tree in the forest, and waited. A few minutes later, he heard Church bells, ringing in their glorious tone. As the boy was enjoying the peaceful sound of the bells, the Night Creeper approached. But the little boy just sat there, in his favorite little spot and watched as the Night Creeper approached. No one has ever seen him again.

"They say to this day, if you go out in the middle of the woods at midnight, and listen closely, you might just hear the child's laughter as he played in his favorite spot, and the blood curling screech of the Night Creeper in these lonely, dark woods. And if you go to that clearing at that time, you might never be heard of again and will roam along with the boy and The Night Creeper through the night, forever. That, Jeffrey, is why you should always listen to your parents, and never, EVER, go into those woods at night! Do you understand me?"

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Jeff awoke from his vicious dream in a cold sweat and looked around. He was in the middle of nowhere, almost midnight. He tried to recall where he was. He wiped the dry tears that clung to his cheeks and put the keys in the ignition. Nothing happened. He tried again and again, however the engine would not turn. Hands on the steering wheel, he just sat and cried.

He felt wet and cold. A sour smell hung in the air. But he just sat there, with his hands on the steering wheel, trying to cry away his fear. He cried for what seemed hours and just wanted the night to turn into day, for everything to be all right; to be home, with his family, like they were before. But those days were gone.

He continued to cry, fear of the dark and loneliness pressing down on him. He stopped crying, and heard a rustle in the in the woods ahead of him. He went dead silent and listened closely. His felt like his heart had stopped beating and he couldn't breathe. His fear of the dark suddenly hit him violently. He looked into the distance ahead through the foggy windshield and listened as he heard more movement.

It had started to rain. Cool water poured on Jeff's face and drenched him all over. He listened carefully and heard a voice call out to him. His fear was replaced by hope. He knew that voice. A voice he loved dear. He now didn't care for the darkness, or the feel of fear and loneliness. It was all replaced with ecstasy.

"Mary? Is it really you?" Jeff asked hopefully, as he tried to focus his eyes in the darkness to see her face once again. "Mary?"

"Hello, Jeff," a woman called out to him after a few moments of silence. He could now see his beautiful wife emerge from the darkness of the woods. She looked as beautiful the day he met her. "Why, Jeff? Why?"

"What? Mary, please! You have to believe me! It wasn't me! It was set-up! Framed! I couldn't just stay there and let them arrest me. I swear I didn't know about it. Please, Mary!"

"All lies. Same old Jeff you used to be and always will be," Mary called out to him from the front of the car. A cold expression now spread on her face, and Jeff could see that dead flesh was starting to peel from her body, and her skin started to turn black. Jeff's feeling of hope was gone and replaced with fear. "You knew me and Susie were in the house when you burned it down. You planned everything out. And now look at you, you filthy little rat," she spat at the windshield and approached where he sat.

"No, Mary! Please! Why don't you believe me?" Jeff begged her, almost jumping out of the car and making a run for his life. But his fear kept him situated in the car and his conscience glued him to the seat as Mary came closer.

"Because me and Susie suffered a horrible death; we were burning and ran out into the woods. Do you know what it's like to be on fire, Jeff? It's your entire fault, and we are now one with the night, and you will join us," she then started to slowly pull a knife and a match out of her back pocket.

Jeff looked away, searching for his keys frantically. He retrieved them from the floor, put them in the ignition, and started the car. He sped off into the darkness, not knowing where he was going. He did not look back. He couldn't look back. Because if he did look back, he knew that Mary would be right behind him, knife in hand, match lit, ready to take his life at any moment possible and let him suffer the way she and his daughter did.

He drove into the night, farther and farther; turning on sharp turns on instincts alone. He did not stop or take a rest. He did not look back. He just kept on driving, his eyes mesmerized on the road. He drove until the time on his watch said midnight. At that time he heard Church bells. No, they were not Church bells. They were the sound of the silence of the woods, the darkness, the loneliness, the agony, ringing in their pain. The car ran out of gas, but he kept on driving. He kept his foot on the pedal and eyes on the road. And he kept on driving though this lonely road in the middle of the night. Destination unknown, he kept on driving.
And they still say, to this day, that if you go to those woods and listen closely, you just might here the engine of the beat-up Ford and the fantastic howls of the Night Creeper.