A Hot Night's Walk

A man groans as he makes his way towards the end of a street. Streetlights guide him down lengthy neighborhood roads that disappear into the dark. It’s another warm night, the man longing for the relief of his air-conditioned home. A nighttime walk was the last thing he had in mind, but a dead car engine drove him to it. If his mechanic wasn’t closed for the day and ride share services didn’t cost an arm and a leg, he would’ve been home by now.

Winding a corner takes him down another street. As he goes, he finds that the neighborhood feels emptier than usual. When he drove here at this time, he’d spot a squirrel clambering up a tree for the night or a rabbit rushing into a bush, but he hasn’t seen a single animal so far, not even a bird. The usual crickets are quiet, the night too hot for them to bother. It’s almost silent, the hum of lights and the consistent tap, tap, tap of his shoes against the worn rocky street all that the man can hear. Even though it’s quiet and there are no animals to be seen, he knows he isn’t alone. He’s surrounded by houses with people in them. Despite knowing this, he feels lonely. Everyone else is in the comfort of their own home going about their business, leaving him the only person out in the heat.

Another corner takes the man deeper into the neighborhood. He pulls at his collar, feeling sweat starting to course down his neck. With a sigh, he tries to focus on walking. His feet ache in his shoes, the padding of the footwear failing to comfort the impact against the hot stone below. It’s not long before the discomfort gets to be too much for him. He steps off the road and into the grass of a stranger’s lawn. The softness of the dirt provides some much-needed comfort for his feet. As he recovers, he stares down the street. He still has some ways to go before he gets back home. It’ll take rounding a few more corners until he’s on his street, just the thought making his feet hurt.

Once he’s done with his break, the man steps back onto the road. After rounding another corner, he’s happy to see he’s stepped onto a street with a sidewalk. Though it isn’t that much better than the road, it’s still kinder to his feet. Just when he’s about to take his first step onto the pavement, he catches a shadow pass by out of the corner of his eye. When he turns to look at what cast it, he finds nothing but an empty lawn.

It’s probably nothing, he thinks. He steps onto the sidewalk and resumes walking. Heat draws out sweat from his brow and leaves it covered in a glossy sheen. By the time he reaches the end of the street, his head starts to ache. He sends a hand to comfort it but that just makes it hurt worse. Groaning, he rubs his sweaty palm against his pant leg and tries to take a breath. Hot air flows into his nostrils and leaves in a cough. He rubs his nose, feeling sweat and skin oil between his fingers. His eyes begin to shut, but while they’re closing, he sees a circular shadow moving across the street and they blink open. He watches it undulate into the darkness without a sound. For a moment, he stands there watching the house whose shadow it slipped into.

Just an owl, he thinks. The hunter of the night is known for how silently it flies. Taking a slow breath, he goes on his way.

           The man knows he’s getting closer to his house when he turns onto a street with a flickering streetlight. The faulty light’s been down for over a week yet still hasn’t burned itself out. It’s become a checkpoint of sorts to him. He heads towards it, closing his eyes before walking past it. Flashes of white creep through the slight gap left by his eyelids and force him to clench them close. When he opens them again, he feels a bit lightheaded, his eyes experiencing strain that leaves them blurry. Stumbling forward, he looks over his shoulder back at the light. To his surprise, the light starts flickering even faster. The speed of the flashes hurt to look at. As he’s about to look away, he catches something in one of the streetlights further down. It’s difficult to see through the flickering light, but he can just make out a dark shape moving along the ground towards him. It undulates, slowly drawing closer. An animalistic instinct freezes him in place, leaving him to watch for the caster of the shadow to enter the light. It never does. The shadow continues to approach, slipping into the darkness between the lights before moving into the next light. The man tries to focus his eyes when the shadow is halfway past the light, but there’s nothing to see. The shadow enters the next light, only the flickering light left between it and the man. It continues moving in that strange bobbing fashion. As it leaves the light, its movements become erratic, shuddering and jerking. It spasms into the flickering light, its movements becoming nearly impossible to track between flashes. Linear protrusions trail behind the spherical shadow as it exits the range of the light.

           Pssh The flickering streetlight goes out, the filament of the lightbulb finally burning out. The man’s jolted by the sudden sound and broken from his trance. He begins to backpedal while watching for the shadow to enter his light. One step back and he feels the presence of something near him. The hair on his neck stands on end. Blood rushes to his legs which begin trembling. A second step back and the shadow enters his light. It has stopped thrashing. Rather than undulating as it had before, it moves straight. On the third step back, the man feels the heat of something’s presence brush across his legs. He turns around and lifts a leg to run, but that’s as far as he gets. Something touches the back of his leg and leaves it numb. When he tries to move it, he feels a burning pain that makes him suck air through his teeth. He crumples to the ground after feeling something touch his other leg.

           “Help!” he screams. His hands scrape roughly against the sidewalk they just barely manage to brace themselves against. With two useless legs, he tries to pull his heavy body across the pavement. Something touches his waist, leaving it as more dead weight for him to drag along. The scrapes on his hands burn, tearing further the more he struggles. Something presses against his stomach, placing more pressure on his hands.

           “Somebody, help me!” he screams again. Next is his chest. He no longer feels his heart beating and is left unsure if he’s alive. All his fear is left to ruminate in his brain which aches from the pressure. His arms can’t carry all the dead weight attached to them yet strain to do so, veins throbbing with blood racing hot. All sensation leaves his arms when he feels something touch them.

           “Please, help!” he begs. Turning his head back, he sees the shadow moving over him. It passes over his legs, covering them entirely. The limbs disappear in the dark, the man no longer able to feel them. His breathing races, thoughts burning through his aching head. The shadow moves over his torso, coming up towards his neck. His heart’s gone, but the blood it left his brain leaves him conscious.

           “Ha!” he wheezes, his vocal cords not there to help him scream his final words. The shadow passes over his head, and he begins to lose the rest of him. He no longer feels anything because there’s no longer a him to feel. The street is left lonely, only the hum of streetlights and a wandering shadow remaining.