Darkened

A funeral for a father is usually a time for reflection- how he lived, what he stood for, what his being meant to you. A funeral for a son is a different matter entirely. Thoughts of reverence are absent. Thoughts of failure creep into the mind with a fervor. Where did it all go wrong? What could I have done differently? Did I spend enough time with him? Did he know what he meant to me? Sitting up in the tree instead of with the family and friends that loved his boy was a necessity. Not only could he not face them- they would run away screaming if he showed himself. Tears came to eyes that hadn’t cried in over 70 years and he thought of the day he was taken from his son.

Claud pulled up to his townhome after another grueling day at work. Lately, his boss had been asking him stay extra hours in addition to working on his days off. The thought that he would be doing this for the rest of his life didn’t trouble him much because he, like most people, cared about his family more than his job. A job doesn’t define you- your actions do that. Paychecks and financial security are more important to him than loving his job. Claud loved his kids and wanted them to have everything they needed even if it meant he could not. As per the typical Monday night- it was trash night. The wife had already gone to sleep and she liked for him to take out the trash. Exhausted from his labors that day, Claude dragged himself over to the closet to pull out two fresh trash bags. He changed the trash in the kitchen and then proceeded upstairs for the real dirty work. His daughter was nine months old and, of course, still wore diapers. The trash can for which was kept in the second bathroom upstairs. After nearly fainting from the smell, he managed to change the liner and stumble down the stairs. Claude grabbed the keys to the front door, walked over, turned on the outside light, opened the door and took the trash to the curb.

With the porch light on and his eyes not yet adjusted to the darkness of that autumn night, he walked down the sidewalk to the curb. He heard the trees swaying in the gentle breeze but he didn’t look into the forest. Down the hill, just inside the closest tree line, stood three figures. Two averaged size shapes, and one a full foot above the others, watched Claude as he dropped the garbage onto the curb. Claude did the same thing he always did when he took the trash out- he pulled the front door gently so it would not shut all the way. Why bother closing it when he would be so fast and lived in a great neighboorhood to boot? After dropping the trash he came back up the path to the door, pushed past it and closed it behind him. He turned off the front porch light and used the keys to lock the door. Everything was as it usually was- he went upstairs, undressed and brushed his teeth. He stretched, did his sit-ups and pushups. Claude was an martial arts enthusiast though lately his training has suffered at the hands of his job. Both family time and what little spare time he had seemed to be vanishing right in front of him but he liked to keep in shape regardless. He checked on his kids, both snoring loudly in their rooms and went back into he master room. Claude kissed his wife being careful not to wake her, turned the light off and crawled into bed.

The crash came five minutes after he turned the light off. Claude was now fully awake and aware. Having no guns in the house, he grabbed his nunchucks, his phone, dialed 911 and ran to the curved staircase to listen for the intruder. Being as quiet as possible, he told the operator to send police to his home and to prepare them for home invaders. Listening hard down the stairs without exposing his head at first he heard nothing. Then, after carefully discerning the sounds from the front door still creaking on hinges, he heard whispers. Faint words he could not make out nor could he understand the need for secrecy now that they had bashed the door down. Claude just knew there was more than one- a problem with no long range means of attack, 2 kids asleep(miraculously) and a wife to defend. He ducked down under the solid banister and thought how best to handle the situation. Thankfully, his stairs creaked something fierce so he would be instantly notified if the intruders made their way up them. Dreaming of being some type of superhero, he briefly thought of just running down the stairs screaming and swinging his nunchucks hoping to have the element of surprise on his hands. Only seconds had passed in real time, though he felt it had been forever, when he heard his four year old son open his bedroom door and say hello daddy. A low grunt from downstairs immediately followed by a crash above his head on the bannister and Claude looked upward. There on the bannister, directly out of some kind of horror movie, sat a wolf-like humanoid thing with fierce yellow eyes bearing its teeth in an evil grin……….


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