Shadows at Night

I blinked my eyes hard, waiting for them to adjust to the darkness. I cautiously felt my way across the room to the window, taking care to approach at an angle to remain unseen. I leaned my shoulder against the cool wall, crouching down and peering around the corner into the night. The window sill was level with my eyes, and I scanned the road outside - the weak flickers of the streetlight on the corner did little to illuminate the dark asphalt. A light breeze rustled the bare branches outside my window, and I strained to hear the strange sound I’d heard. A dark shape slid along the center of the road, swallowed by the shadows if I looked directly at it. I tracked it slightly off the peripheral, trying to discern what it was. Plenty of late night dog walkers strode by in the night, but this form was unfamiliar. It gave the impression of a large dog, but it had no accompanying walker. It skittered across the dim circle on the corner and I jerked, my body seizing in a flinch and I dropped to the floor. I wasn’t sure what it was, but I examined the image in my mind, the outline blurring and pulsing with each beat of my heart. Nothing I compared it to fit, it had 4 limbs, but it moved in a jerky and disjointed fashion, unlike any dog I’d seen. I held my breath, placed my hands on the sill, and slowly rose until I could see the corner again. There was nothing but a lonely night out there, and I peered back up the street it had come down. Nothing. I carefully pulled the window down, locked it, and then stepped back from the window. I stood in the darkness, alone with my heartbeat and shallow breaths. I sat back down at my desk, leaving the lights off. I slipped my headphones on and turned some music on to drown out the outside world, losing myself in work for the next few hours. I clocked off when the sky had brightened with the sun, and sidled over to the window to peer out at the world before going to sleep. Nothing seemed amiss, and I wondered if I’d actually seen something or hallucinated it out of sleep deprivation.

I wake up in and stretch in bed, pulling my sleep mask from my face, and rubbing my eyes. I yawn and check my phone, I have a few hours before I clock on again, and I zone in and out while I do my ‘morning’ routine. I committed to leaving the house at least once a day when I started on the overnight shift, and I decide to head out to get the most of the remaining daylight. I close the door behind me and a crow brays from its perch atop a bare tree in the distance. I open my door, reaching in to seize my binoculars and then stroll out. I raise them to my face and marvel at the corvid - the feathers dark and glossy. It swiveled its head this and that way, cawing and calling out. I walked down my street, looping around the block to take the gravel path that ran through a field a few blocks away. It cut by a wooded area, and it was great for birdwatching. I’d spotted a red winged blackbird the other day, and wanted to get another look. Several crows joined the first, and they discussed the world below while I crunched along below them. The walk went without much incident, nothing but a few common birds greeted me. Maybe tomorrow. I reached the end of the path, stepping through the gate in the rought wooden fence, turning to close the loop and head home. Dusk was falling, and I needed to have dinner and get some drawing in before I clocked on for work. The murder of crows all gave one singular caw, and I paused on the sidewalk at the end of the path. I pay attention to birds, and they don’t usually call in sync. I slowly rotated to see what they were doing to call this way. I raised my binoculars and peered at the group. They were all looking down towards the base of the tree, and I dropped the view to see what they were so fascinated with. I didn’t see anything worth watching, and pulled my gaze back up to look at them. The whole group was staring back at me, and I frowned. They didn’t care about people unless they were an active threat, and I was too far off to pay attention to. I pulled the binoculars down and squinted at the handful of dark birds where they roosted. Without the tunnel vision I could see a dark shape on the path below the tree, and my tongue crawled into my throat. I raised the binoculars to my eyes, and the image jittered slightly in my shaking hands. My lips buzzed when I recognized the shape from the previous night, and it was picking its way along the path towards me.

I watched it for a second, gauged its speed, and took one slow smooth step to my right, keeping my eyes on it through the apertures. It didn’t seem like it was moving quickly, and I was only a block or so from home. I clenched the binoculars in one hand to keep them from slamming into my chest, but had no internal hand to keep my heart from doing the same. I ran in the grass strip alongside the sidewalk, racing past spindly branches that reached for me, seeking to slow my flight. I miscalculated a lunging leap and tumbled over a hedge at the corner, jumping up with a quick glance back the way I’d come. The street was empty, as was the sidewalk, and I dashed across the street to my front door. I was glad I never locked it when I walked, and burst inside, slamming it shut behind me. I threw the bolt, and turned the flimsy lock in the knob for good measure. Had I seen something? Was it just a shadow and I’d played it up in my mind? It could’ve been a flock of birds, and their shadows combined on the ground could’ve seemed to be something? I leaned around the door and peered out the window next to it. There was nothing but an empty street outside in the dying light, and I sank onto the couch, taking deep breaths and talking sense into myself.

There was no flock of birds to cast a shadow later in the night, and I had no explanation for the figure that stole down the street again. I crouched next to the window again, the deja vu and fear washed through me, and I stared at the strange shape creeping along. What was I looking at? Why was I so afraid of it? Was it because I didn’t know what it was? Was it an unfamiliar fear? I didn’t go for the walk the next day, instead, I set up my drawing supplies and a chair by the window. I waited for the shape to show, and then quickly jotted an impressionistic sketch. I did this for a week until I had a rough idea of what it looked like.

The shape, it creeps, along the ground

It darts and skitters, but makes no sound.

I seems to hold no discernible shape,

The hairs stand up at my necks nape.

It doesn't seem to be aggressive,

So I simply watch and decide to let live.

Dread wells up when cops knock at my door

A jogger went out and was heard from no more.