Musical Accompaniment by: Dolomedes Threatening
“The Artwork”
An original story written by: Stacey L. Bolin
Copyright: September 25, 2013
A bluish clammy gloom slowly draped itself around her as she
continued to walk the darkened hallway towards the location of the mysterious
scratching thumping sound that echoed through her home. Her husband and
children lay silently asleep in the safety of their dreams. Bang! - Another sound
now accompanying the unexplainable thumping that startled her to awaken
and rise from the warmth of her bed. Her
feet naked upon the hardness of the floor gave refuge to the cold that nippily progressed
throughout her body. She continued moving forward determined to reveal the
sources of the dreadful sounds that grew louder with each step. Her breathing
quickened as she guardedly entered the kitchen.
Her attention momentarily stolen by the intricate Victorian lacy
shadow created from the rays of a full moon that shone brightly into the window
and through the lace curtains casting the imagery upon the tile of the floor –
it was appeasing to her. Scratch Thump! Scratch THUMP! BANG! Fear simultaneously shook through her every
sense of humanity as the unknown directed her every step once again.
She reached for the block of cutting knives, on the counter
next to the stove, to accompany her fear with some level of protection.
Something was out there, obscured by human sight, but not by sound. Thump!
Bang! Scratch! Scratch! Her body startled by the sounds as she opened the kitchen door
to the backyard. It was on their porch.
“Hello?” her mouth motioned, but not a word was spoken. “Is
anyone out there? Hello?”
The silence of the night was deafening and triggered the
sounds of ringing in her ears. She clutched the knife tightly as she stepped
out on to the porch that wrapped around the home. BANG! The sound was just
around the corner. Tears ran down her face, her heart raced, her body shook
with the feeling of an adrenaline rush. A low wet, gurgling growling grew with
intensity as the sounds of untrimmed toenails of a large dog or animal made
their way closer to her. She knew that whatever it was they both were going to
meet one another as they reached the corner of the house. As she turned the
growl was met with razor sharp teeth and the color of yellow eyes that glistened
and glowed in the moon light. The creature rose up to jump at her as she raised
the knife and shrieked a blood curdling scream.
“Sweetie what’s wrong!” her husband yelled out.
She opened her eyes and turned her head to look at him.
“Are you ok?” he asked in a soft voice hoping her scream didn’t
wake the children.
“Did I kill it?” was all she could whisper.
Puzzled by her response, he calmly asked, “Killed what?”
“The wolf, the one that was…” she stopped what she was saying
when she realized she was laying in the comforts of their bed. It had been all
but a dream. A sigh of relief escaped thought her smile as she leaned forward
and into the arms of her husband. “Thank god it was only a dream.”
Later that day their youngest daughter sat quietly at the
dining room table intently working on a drawing. Her mother couldn’t help but ask
her young daughter, “What could it be that keeps my little girl so focused on
her art work?”
“I’m making you a picture mommy.” Her voice soft and gentle
coupled with a look of innocence as only a child of eight could wear.
“You are... can I see it?”
“It’s not finished.” She turned and continued once again on
her master piece.
“Please?” her mother asked as she glanced over her shoulder
to sneak a peek at the art work that was transpiring.
A paralyzing chill raced across her body filling her with
panic as she screamed causing her husband to rush to her side.
“What wrong?” he shouted.
“It’s done. What’s the matter mommy…don’t you like my
picture? Her young daughter questioned as she held it up with a deep sense of
pride for her mommy and daddy to see. “It’s you mommy. I saw you kill the bad
man.”
Drawn as vividly as her mother remembered, the eyes, the
teeth, the moonlight - it was all there, yet there was one important detail that
differed from her mother’s memory.
“How could you have known? It was only a dream?” her mother
asked.
“Oh no mommy…it wasn’t a dream.”
Her husband quickly chimed in, “she probably heard us when I
woke you up from that scary nightmare.”
An extreme shout out, from their sixteen year old son, filled
the air outside of their home, “Dad come quick!” Everyone rushed out the front
door, but nobody was there. “Dad…back here! On the porch!” a sense of urgency filled
his voice that was coming from the backyard.
When they got around the corner, they all stopped and stared.
“Dad…what happened?” His son questioned in disbelief.
They couldn’t believe their eyes. The siding on their house
around the window had been deeply scratched and appeared to have been pulled
back as if someone or something was trying to claw their way into the house.
When they moved forward to get a better look, pieces of coarse brown dog-like hair
had been embedded into each scratch.
“It looks like a bear did it?” he son remarked trying to find
a simple answer to sooth his growing fear.
“The bad man did it and that’s why mommy killed him.”
They all turned to look at her as she stood holding her
picture in front of her that she had drawn in crayon of her mother on the porch
- and the scary wolf man that tried to attack her.
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