Sunday Scaries: “The Lurking Kind”

“My dad used to warn me about ladies like you,” I said to Dina. “He said they’re like an expensive car. The prettier they are, the more problems they have.”

“How kind of your father to compare a woman to an object,” Dina said. “Have you found any issues with me yet?”

“Haven’t been searching.”

“Good answer. Let’s go back to my place. It’s close enough to walk, and Casey’s not home.”

Casey was a girlfriend, I had learned at the start of our conversation, Dina’s best friend, who she lived with up the street. When I first came into the brewery, I sat near the corner of the L-shaped bar, on the shorter end. Dina was seated a few seats away on the longer side, sipping a beer by herself. Every time I glanced her way, I noticed her staring at me. We’d lock eyes, and

she’d look away real quick, like a prairie dog ducking into its hole at the first sign of danger.

This had gone on two or three times, my eyes meeting hers, catching her looking at me, then darting away.

The next time our eyes met, I smiled and threw a childish wave her way. She broke out in a chuckle, her face turning beet red. I wagged a finger, beckoning her over, and she came a-running. We chatted over drinks, one pint after another, until we were—at least I was—shitfaced.

Around 1am, Dina suggested we go to her place, and we hit the street and the winter elements, moving along snow-covered sidewalks and taking dark alleys and shortcuts. At the first alley we reached, she clutched the front of my coat with both hands, pulled me close, and stuck her tongue in my mouth. It was nice, the warmth of her mouth against the winter chill. She pinned me against the brick wall with such force that I bopped the back of my head and wondered if I was concussed.

We kissed in the dark for a long time until a scraping sound nearby distracted me. The noise was right up close to my ears, like fingernails or cat claws dragging across a stony surface. I pulled my mouth away from Dina and wiped my lips with the sleeve of my peacoat, my skin shuddering with cold gooseflesh.

“What’s wrong?” Dina said.

“Nothing,” I said, looking down the alley where we had first entered. “Let’s keep walking.”

I took her hand in mine, and we continued our travels, albeit with a touch more urgency on my part. Upon exiting the alley, I glanced over my shoulder, knowing I wouldn’t see anything. It was too dark.

At the next street, Dina pulled her hand away and said, “Well, you got shy awfully fast.”

“Quiet,” I said. “Not shy.”

“Did something spook you back there?”

“No, why?” I lied.

“You keep looking over your shoulder like we’re being followed.”

I hadn’t realized I was still doing it, and made an effort to face forward.

“I heard something,” I said, “in the alley.”

“Do tell.”

I shook my head, a little embarrassed, and shrugged off the chill. “You’ll think it’s silly.”

“Won’t know until you tell me.”

“Okay. It’s just a story, mind you. Something my grandfather told my mother and her sisters when they were little. To make sure they stayed faithful, or loyal, or—I don’t know the word.”

“I believe the word you’re looking for is ‘behave’.”

“No, I mean faithful. To their husbands.”

“Didn’t you say your mom and sisters were kids when your grand—”

“They were,” I said. “He was preparing them for when they grew up. He told them about this kind of monster that lurked in the shadows and was so dark that it couldn’t be seen with the naked eye. Its skin was so black that it swallowed light. My grandfather said the only time you see it is when you—”

“What about daytime?”

“Sorry?”

“You said this creature lives in the shadows. What if it’s daytime and there aren’t any shadows or dark places for it to hide in?”

“There are always dark places to hide.”

“Okay, what if it’s daytime, I’m standing under a full sun, out in the middle of nowhere? Like in a desert. There’s nothing around me. Where is this creature going to hide?”

“In your shadow.”

Her eyes widened, and she gasped, feigning terror, then she smiled and said, “Carry on.”

“The shadow monster lurks in the darkness, watching your every move, ensuring you remain loyal to your husband. Only when you are disloyal will it reveal itself to punish you for your infidelities.”

“Sounds like your grandfather was an extremely insecure man.”

“Maybe. He said every woman had one—a monster lurking in the shadows, watching them, to ensure they were on their best behavior.”

“So, this monster, what does it do to the woman if it catches her cheating on her husband, according to your gramps?”

“Like I said, it punishes her.”

“Just the woman, huh?”

“No. If the man she’s with knowingly takes part in adultery, the creature punishes him too.”

“And you got scared in the alley because—”

“I wasn’t scared,” I said, my heart racing.

“You were reminded of this story because…”

“My grandfather told us stories around the campfire, my sisters and I. He had this metal poker he used to jab at the hot coals while we were sitting around it. When he told us this story, he said the first and only warning that the creature was preparing to reveal itself was when it ran its long black fingernails across a hard surface. My gramps, he’d take the end of that poker and drag it across the rocks of the fire pit to make a scratching sound.”

“Uh-huh.”

“Thought I heard that same sound in the alley.”

“Hey, we’re here,” Dina said, and halted near a set of cement steps leading to a house at the top of a hill. She gripped the railing, turned back to me, and said, “You’re not married, are you?”

“No.”

“Then we’re in the clear.”

***

The house was pitch black inside. While Dina kicked her shoes off and ran around switching on lights, I threw the bolt on the door, took off my dripping boots, and met her in the kitchen, where she grabbed a corked bottle of red wine from the fridge. She poured two glasses and got half of hers down before I even got my hands around mine. Another gulp, and she was on me like a carnal creature, her tongue striking my mouth like a horny cobra, her hands caressing all over me like a blind person. Then she pulled away so fast that I hadn’t the time to register it, let alone enjoy it. The bulge in my pants told me I did.

“Bedroom is down the hall,” she said, strutting away. “Finish your drink while I freshen up.” 

I leaned against the counter and sipped, facing the refrigerator donned with bills, photographs, and knick-knacks tacked with magnets. The magnets were of the gift shop variety, the kinds you’d find on vacation, with funny jokes on some, others shaped like beer bottles. Others just said the names of the states, beaches, or destinations. 

Stuck behind the magnets were photographs of Dina and a blonde woman I presumed to be Casey. In every picture, they were holding hands or hugging each other, even cuddling and kissing on the mouth. Dina and Casey wearing bathing suits on a beach, another one of them huddled together, wearing rain jackets and standing in front of Niagara Falls—you get the picture. Dozens of memories displayed on the fridge like a married couple. Lovers.

My chest pounded. My guts knotted.

“I’m in bed,” Dina playfully called from the next room.

She was lying belly down on the blankets, wearing nothing but a bra and thong underwear. I stood at the foot of the bed and asked, “Who’s the woman in those pictures on your fridge?”

“That would be Casey,” she said. “Why?”

“You two look close.”

“You could say that.”

“Like you’re a…”

“Like a couple?”

I nodded.

“That’s because we are.”

“Hold up,” I said. “You’re gay?”

“I believe I am what you would call bisexual.”

“I’m confused. I thought Casey was your roommate.”

“She is. What I said was Casey is my girlfriend.”

“I thought you meant girlfriend like…girl…friend. Not girlfriend-girlfriend.”

“Sounds the same to me.”

“If you have a girlfriend, then what the hell am I doing here?”

“I had a few ideas in mind.” Dina rose to sit on her knees, grinning, and held out her arms.

“No,” I said.

“It’s fine,” she said. “Casey and I have an understanding.”

“What’s that? An open relationship?”

“More like I don’t tell her things that will upset her.”

“That’s adultery.”

She scoffed. “God, you are so—”

“Traditional? Old-fashioned? Loyal?”

“Anachronistic, I was going to say.”

“You didn’t get my story at all, did you?” I said, clenching and unclenching my fists, palms sweating.

“You mean the one where your grandfather invented a scary, murderous shadow creature to scare his daughters into not being whores?” Her voice tightened with annoyance. “I’m not married, so that crap doesn’t apply to me.”

“Just because you’re not married doesn’t mean you can’t be unfaithful.”

“Oh my God, what are you on about? Are we doing this or not?”

“I can’t.”

Dina lay back, pulling a blanket over herself. “Fine, see yourself out. Don’t let the monsters get you on your way home.”

“They won’t touch me,” I said, “since I’m honorable.”

Dina sighed and rolled her eyes. “Oh, get fucked.”

I put my boots back on and left.

***

On the cold walk home, I almost took a different route than the one before, but didn’t. I pushed myself into the dark alley where I had heard the scratching sound and stood there listening. Waiting to hear claws scraping the bricks.

Nothing.

The light snowfall had stopped, with only a dusting covering the ground. Our footprints were still there, my boots and Dina’s shoes beside mine. Another pair crept out from behind ours, overlapping some of our tracks stamped into the snow. These could have been from another person who’d taken the same shortcut as us, I presumed, only they didn’t start from the street.

No, these footprints had appeared in the middle of the alley, had emerged from the shadows along the brick wall. These prints looked as if they had materialized right next to where we had been kissing, and appeared to have followed us.

I can’t say how far those tracks had gone—I only noticed upon entering the alley—but I bet if I’d turned around and retraced my steps, I’d have found them as far as Dina’s house.

Perhaps they had made their way inside, melted snow puddles shaped like feet along the hardwood floor, and progressed into the bedroom, where they ended in some obsidian, shadowed corner. Watching. Waiting. Lurking.

I hustled back to the brewery where my car was parked, ignoring the fact that inside my boots my socks were soaking wet.