They Wait

Prologue

Among lonely shelves laid the leather-bound secrets my mother attempted to hide from plain view; weathered from dust and mould that attempted to keep the countless pages' company, amongst the association of stained page numbers that were reminiscent of redundant organisation. The being traced his skeletal fingers along the spines as they began to chant in a dead language of the past. semper spectant, nusquam prope...semper spectant, nusquam prope...semper spectant, nusquam prope... Whispers that invaded the surrounding silence seemed to dance across the empty halls, consuming any trace that people lived; until all that was left was silence. Silence. Dense and cold. Softly, at first, it begins. Gentle, nimble; humble. Then, it forms; like a plague it devours every breathing being, it's starved hunger to never be filled, only to embellish in the cascading cries of those less fortunate. It was the work of a great evil.

Down the wooden hallways the being descended; it's shadowed form consuming the space between ceiling and floor, making no room for other trivial things. Despite its size, it moved gracefully and with purpose, until it was in the presence of its victim. Pressing against the door they slowly etched the handle until it opened. Slowly again, he moved across the floor toward the bed where the woman laid. Bringing his skeletal figure closer to the sleeping figure, he began to softly chant. His words were whispers that fond their way into the woman's ear, slightly stirring her from a deep slumber.

Behind the walls of mortals made

a villain lays inside.

Of mortal ties they have betrayed

And left the king to die.

Now upon the clock strike three,

until then shall they awake.

To look into the eyes of death

and meet their final fate.

Kathryn stirred from the trance, coming into a form of consciousness. Disturbed, the creature backed away. She was almost awake. Swiftly, with haste, they moved into the shadows; their form contorting into the dark matter that surrounded them.

"Hello?" She whispered. Quiet and low, her voice drenched in layers of fear.

There was no response.

"Hello?" She whispered again, this time louder.

The room was darkened with malicious intent; It was impossible to distinguish humanoid forms from miscellaneous furniture. The only movement she could perceive was the dancing curtains across the room, brought about from the draft intruding from the slightly-agar window. Breathing a sigh of relief, the woman left her place of rest, for now she was fully awake.

Wrapping herself in a layered nightgown the woman descended down the hallway, passing the various bookshelves and trinkets that littered the path. Her heavy feet finding contrasting textures as she moved from room to room.

"Better get the kettle boiling, I suppose." She said, letting out a small chuckle from her cracked lips.

Kathryn tied her aged hair into a messy bun – her lengthened fringe obstructing her view ever-so-slightly – as she concentrated making a bitter beverage. She took the coffee from the pantry and began to pour measurements into her favourite porcelain cup. Events such as these were habitual, with healthy rest being secondary, or a rare occurrence if ever. Leaning upon the stone counter she waited, feeling the gratuitous bags beneath her eyes gain weighted momentum as time began to slip by.

Creak, went the floorboards, protesting under the suspicious weight. Kathryn's gaze was momentarily focused on across the room (where such a sound originated) and found that nothing was to be seen; nothing that could have possibly made such and impact on previous silence.

"Old house – they tend to do that sometimes," she said in an attempt to reassure herself, although such a statement could only do the opposite, "practically a gravesite, now that I think about it."

Kathryn attempted to obstruct her view from the kitchen, instead looking outside the isolated window to her left; however, this was of no use. There was little light emanating in the outside world, and whatever could be produced (however momentary the flicker may have been) wasn't enough to light the entire kitchen. Now the kettle was getting louder, as the heat began to rise and pour billows of steam from the stomach of the bubbling caldron.

Crash, something fell. A decorative teacup that had been hanging above the kitchen sink was now laying in its own broken remains.

"It's a wonder I don't get those hangers fixed!" Kathryn sighed, less assured than previously.

A rising tension had been building within her chest; Kathryn could sense that something was amiss.

Clank, click, slide. It was the omissible occurrence of the kitchen window opening. Although the breeze was not cold, nor harsh in its exterior, Kathryn couldn't help to feel a dense chill rush along her spine. Scraping, that's what came next. Along the cabinets the sound continued, until it came to where Kathryn was standing. Suddenly, it stopped near her head, leaving her with many unanswered worries. Forgetting her previous plans, Kathryn made an effort to escape to the hallway; running fast in her morning slippers.

It was almost as if an unescapable madness had overcome the woman, as she began to spout utter nonsense. Her words were indistinguishable; mumbling running sentences that bore no conceivable end.

"Always watching, never near. Always watching, never near..."

Finally coming to a weathered bookshelf, she let a sigh of welcomed relief wash her worries off her grieved chest; her finger running along the numerous leather-bound spines until finding the one to ease her troubled mind: 'Tales Never Told'. It had been passed along from her husband, a man more troubled then she; a poetry book, with its only seeming purpose being to be read to those who desire sleep. Frantically flicking through the pages she tried to find her solution.

"301, 303, 304, 305, 309!" She exclaimed, seemingly rejoicing.

She inhaled, before reciting the passage before her:

To which the presence unknown be found

within this place of dwell.

Leave this house, eternal beast

Before thou damned to hell.

When eternal night doth break

And the shadows peer around

You shall not find refuge here

Nor shall become yet bound.

That was where the poem was cut short; she turned the page, her incantation not yet finished, only to find the needed page ripped from the books contents.

"Wait, what? No, this can't be right!" She exclaimed.

She could feel the pressure building within her, as her mind strained to remember.

"Ah...um...something...." She stuttered, not succeeding in her actions.

It was as if someone had purged her mind of useful information; ridding the facts that would save her forgotten soul. A demonic presence was lingering behind her body, which by now was solidified with fear. The air became thick and heavy, as Kathryn struggled to breathe; instead suffocating on her own word. He back began to burn as if embers of hot coal had been poured upon it; although such an act was never done. She struggled to scream, but all that escaped her lungs were shortened gasps. The entity continued, sinking its structured fingers into her flesh, ripping along the lines of bone. Her blood, thick and dark, began to run out, pooling into her clothes and leaving their mark upon the wooden floorboards below. Then like a weak flame within the wind, her life had been engulfed.

Thud, her body fell. The heavy sound echoed through the halls without end, finally breaking the silence that had overcome the household. Then, he left. Taking with him whatever remained of her identity; for she would only ever be known as another victim.

It would be a while until any mortal laid eyes on the horrific sight. Until sirens replaced muffled screams. Until police officers attempted to negate the supernatural; this they would indeed find troublesome, for you cannot disprove was does not exist.