Truth is more horrifying than fiction...

 
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"Three, four...better lock your door..."

 

Needless to say, the family was shocked to hear such a thing, but were convinced that it was the stress of being a new mother manifesting itself in this strange fashion, but this was not to be the last time that the Dark Man made himself known. It took allot of convincing, but my mother finally accepted that this was just her imagination, but none the less, she never let me out of her sight. Months later, my grandmother went on a trip to the Arctic, and my uncles were out at work, and my mother and me were home alone. My mother sat quietly reading a book, while I played in my crib. She was suddenly overcome with the same feeling that something wasn't right, but she was in the room with me, and the door was locked with a knife stuck into the doorframe, as was her custom for years (one that tended to drive me crazy in later years)...But why was she having this feeling of dread? Then she hear it....Heavy deliberate footsteps coming up the stairs...

She grabbed me as a precaution, and went to the door to see if she could hear her brothers voices, hoping that it was one of them home early from work, but knowing that it wasn't, as they did not have a key to the heavy oak door, only grandma and her had one, and grandma was 3000 miles away. Besides, there was no way on earth that the door could quietly be opened...she would have heard it...her mind began to race as the footsteps sounded as if the person was going from one door to the next, stopping briefly at each one, then proceeding to the next, getting closer with every step, as if the person was searching for something. Burglar? Grandpa? No...she would have heard breaking glass, as all the windows were painted shut...Who was this intruder? My mother held her breath and was now shaking uncontrollably, but none the less quiet. The heavy footsteps stopped outside her door....then quiet...my mother started to sob with fear. Then she head a familiar voice that she had heard only once before...It was booming this time and  seemed to surround her, and was much louder than the first time...it was HIM...

"I'VE COME FOR DALE...GIVE THE CHILD TO ME!"

Again, my mother went into hysterics, clutching me and screaming "NO! BUGGY CAN'T HAVE HIM! NO!"...she screamed this for how long she didn't even know...She had gone into a terrible crying fit, muttering "NO...NO...You can't have him" for what must have been hours....the next thing she remembered was two of my uncles forcing the bedroom door open, breaking the frame in the process...only to find my mother in a near state of shock, screaming once they broke the door. They went through the drill once again, trying to calm her, which they recall as a near impossible task. Seems they had come home only to find every door and every window wide open, with the locks still in a locked state. They walked in, wondering what the hell was up, and amazed that the windows were open, as they had tried to open them many times without success. While they looked around, dumbfounded  and confused, they heard my mothers sobs and mutterings, but her door was the only one in the whole house that was closed....

 

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Email The Author -  Dale A. Moses