Stories to Tell in the Dark

The Dancer

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It began about a week ago, as I slept. I was having the most bizarre nightmare I've ever had.
I was alone, and surrounded by darkness. I couldn't see or sense anything. I couldn't even see my own body. Then something started.
At first it was just tapping, like the steps of a tap dancer. It was a low and quiet noise, so faint I wasn't certain I had heard anything at all. They came through the pitch darkness from a source I could not see. They sounded hollow and distant, far too distant for such a quiet noise to travel, and echoed despite not having anything visible to make them echo.
Stranger still was the rhythm. The steps bounced and clicked like a tap dancers, but seemed to follow no pattern at all. They came in bursts of inhuman speed then paused at random intervals, following no structure or cadence.
Most unsettling of all, however, was the strange feeling I got when I heard them. The second I noticed the taps everything in me warned me of danger. Though I could never tell you why, I felt disturbed and nervous to a degree I had never felt before. There was a lot that was clearly wrong that I could explain with words. The irregularity of the rhythm, the inexplicable echo, the distant hollowness, the inhuman bursts of speed were all recognizably wrong. But there was something else that was far worse.
It made me think of something I had been told a long time ago. Sometimes we can sense things we don't consciously notice. If we walk into a room the moment before a fight, we will know, even if we don't know why. The subtle cues- glares, avoidance of eye contact, tightened fists, barely heard threats- will warn us of the danger. If a wild animal were following us, we may here the noise of sticks breaking or of its breath, and our mind would tell us to run without us knowing why. This, in the wild, was life or death. Most superstitions come from these ancient instincts. We know there is something wrong, but we don't know why.
And there was something wrong with those steps.
...
I woke to the sound of my alarm. I looked at my clock, which told me it was 7 am. For a moment I lay in my bed. What could have caused such an odd dream? The sounds in it were strange. I had never seen tap dancing before, and the rhythm was impossible for a human to maintain anyway. I looked around my room for something that may have caused it. My bed was normal. The same blue walls, single window and bookshelf as before. Perhaps something else in my apartment caused it, but I couldn't think of what. I had never had a dream like that before and didn't know why I had, or why it stayed so firmly in my mind.
I shrugged my shoulders. A dream was a dream, and nothing more. I needed to get to work, and strange dreams wouldn't be an excuse for being late. I got up slowly, exhausted from a night broken by the unsettling nightmares. I checked myself in the mirror, and the signs of a rough night were clear. My eyes were blood shot with dark circles underneath them, and my skin was haggard, hanging as if it was loosely attached to my bones. Nevertheless, I got dressed, and headed to work.
For the most part my day was normal. I took the bus, paid the fair and said hello to the bus driver. I showed my card at the reception desk and went into the office. I sat at my desk, got down to work, took my breaks, and finished at 4:00 just liked any other day. People smiled and asked how I was doing, work was done, and all went well.
However, it was clear something was wrong.
It took me a while to notice what it was. Like with the tapping, there was simply a general feeling of unease which I couldn't identify.
It became clear when I was talking to Carla, a middle aged and brown haired woman. We shared a cubical where we both worked at our computer.

"Jerald," she asked, speaking to me, "did you see where my coffee went?"
I looked around. It was right beside her, within reach of her right arm.
"Yes Carla, it's right there? Can't you see it?" I replied.
"Oh, oh jeeze excuse me. I guess I am just a bit out of it today. Didn't sleep well last night."
I took in the words slowly, but something about them struck me. Then I realized what it was.
Everyone, from the bus driver to the receptionist to the people at my office, had the same haggard, exhausted look that I had. They all had bloodshot eyes with bags under them. They all moved slowly and spoke in low voices. Not a single person that I saw that day had slept well.
I began to notice small changes in the way people behaved. Things moved slower, people's voices sounded slightly different. I tried to tell myself that it was all in my head, that I just needed more sleep, but the feeling persisted.
There could be a thousand explanations, I knew. Something on the highway had made too much noise, interrupting peoples sleep. Perhaps there was a storm I missed. Maybe people were kept up by a news report of some violent activity in someplace I had never heard of. Most likely of all, was that it was just a coincidence, and I was tricking myself by making it seem significant.
But the thought still stayed in my head. The more I looked around me, the more I was sure it was true. Something was keeping people from sleeping, and I had to know what it was.
I returned to my apartment and ate a quick supper. I packed everything for the next day, and got ready for bed.
I tried to make sure nothing would disturb me that night. Perhaps it was some outside factor, like a broken pipe or extra traffic that created the dreams and left me awake. I closed my door, and double checked the lock. I shut the window and closed my blinds. Finally, I got a pair of earplugs and put them in. I set my alarm, turning it up so I could hear it with the plugs, and lay down to sleep.
...
The noise was back. However, this time it was louder, much louder. While the night before it had been so quiet and distant I was barely sure I heard anything at all, tonight it was clear. It was the same irregular rhythm, almost inhuman and impossible in its steps, and with no music or beauty. The same echo and hollowness, like something distant in a cave.
I was still surrounded by pitch black. I had no idea what it was that was making the noise. However, each step sent chills down my spine, and came with the same sense of something utterly and inexplicably wrong.
They were getting closer. Each step was slightly louder and sharper, as if the movement of the dance brought the dancer toward me with each step, and the feeling of unease grew and grew. Soon the dancer would be in focus, and I was sure I didn't want to see it.
...
I woke up to the alarm again, feeling more tiered then I did when I went to sleep. I got ready, and left my bedroom.
I wandered down the street towards my bus stop. The faces around me were more haggard and weary then the day before. People stared at the ground and walked in unsteady paces, not having the energy to straighten up. A traffic cop wandered by rows of cars without checking for proofs of payment. A homeless man with a hat in front of himself slapped his legs and the ground lazily as his eyes rolled back, possibly in a drugged or drunken stupor. The bus driver didn't check the number of tickets and dollar bills that were handed to him, and I am not certain if I paid the right amount.
I got to work, and did my best to make it through the day. I moved slowly and barely got anything done, but it didn't seem anyone noticed. All the people around me were absorbed in their own worlds, struggling too hard to complete their own work to pay attention to me.
Carla and I forced some chat between ourselves. However, for the most part we barely had enough energy to even acknowledge each other's existence. Between to two of us we finished nearly a dozen cups of coffee, which lay piled up in and around the garbage can as the janitor didn't seem to notice the mess.
There was something else bothering me. If I had been more awake and aware, I may have been able to figure out what it was more easily. As it was, it stayed at the edge of my mind, like a name on the tip of my tongue or a few seconds of a song which was stuck in my head but I couldn't identify. I couldn't get it out of my mind, and I couldn't figure out what it was. Something about that morning had disturbed me greatly.
I took the bus back and went through my nightly routine, still mulling over what it could be. I lay down, still thinking about it. I was at the edge of sleep when the idea hit me, bringing me fully away and conscious for the first time in two days. My heart beat so loudly and quickly I could hear it in my ears and my breathing came in great gasping pants. Instantly sweat poured off my forehead and soaked my bed sheets. I knew exactly what was bothering me.