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(Page 3 of 4) One Dark Night by Gregory Harvey
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The hooded figure was still staring and somehow Ben knew that his paralysis was that man's fault.
The terrible piercing in Ben's mind rose again. The figure outside of his window floated (FLOATED!) over the bloodied pond. The shape's boots slapped against the concrete in front of the pond as it planted its feet back on the ground. Its head had finally turned from Benjamin's window, but the piercing didn't stop. In fact, it had only gained in intensity as the shape had moved closer.
Slowly, the man began to move forward. Each footstep slapped irreverently against the concrete. It was coming... coming towards the dormitory! The piercing finally broke Ben's mind and ricocheted through his body. His arms and legs began to shake uncontrollably. In moments his legs could no longer hold his weight, and Benjamin collapsed to the floor of his room in a crumpled mess.
His mind was still functioning, however. Ben lay helplessly in horror, listening to the slow, rhythmic thuds of the dark man's footsteps. One by one they became louder as the figure approached closer to the dormitory. Ben's eyes were focused only on the roof, but still he could feel the man below.
Suddenly the footsteps stopped, yet Benjamin was still left with the unholy piercing noise that stubbornly refused to subside. One more noise emanated from below his window, however. The (locked?) door. He listened as it squealed open, and glided shut with a light bang.
The dark man was inside.
The piercing rose again, as if the shape had moved closer, and this time the pain was enough to send Benjamin out of consciousness while his body lay limply on the floor. In the dark corridor outside of his room, there was only dark silence.
"Wake up, Ben. What the hell are you doing on the floor?" Someone said.
Benjamin's eyes blinked openly slowly. His vision was still blurred. Painfully, he lifted his body half way up from the floor; his joints were too unwilling to go any farther.
"Ben?" The voice asked again.
"Wha...," He cried back, irritated.
"It's Will. Could I borrow your TV?"
Will stood in the doorway, or curtain way as it may be. His large frame barely visible in the dull moonlight drifting in through Ben's window. Benjamin lifted himself the rest of the way from the floor, and thumped down onto his bed.
"What time is it?" He asked, dazed.
"Dunno. It's ‘bout one in the morning I guess...," Will replied, "So can I borrow your TV?"
"No. Not now..."
"Why not? I'll bring it back in the morning."
"I said no, okay. Can you just go, my head's feeling kind of weird."
"Fine... I'll just have to come back and steal it," Will said dejectedly.
"Fuck off, Will. Go to bed..."
Before Ben had even finished Will had left the room, slinking off down the dark corridor to go meet up (most likely) with the rest of his stoner friends. Who the hell woke someone up at one in the morning to ask for their TV anyway?
Ben lied back down in his bed and pulled the covers up.
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