RED EYES

So, I went into my bedroom. I had already finished my dinner and locked all the doors in the house. I admit I’m a bit paranoid in that sense.

I turned on the light and locked the door behind me.

It had been a long day, and I was tired, but I wasn’t sleepy yet, so I put on my pajamas and lay down. I turned on the TV and spent a while searching for something to watch, never deciding on anything.

After a while, I looked at the clock and was surprised to see an hour and a half had passed. I turned off the TV and tried to force myself to sleep. Tomorrow would be another long, heavy day at work.

So there I was, in the darkness of my room, lying on my right side, my back to the window. Light from the streetlamp outside projected against the wall, and from time to time, a passing vehicle’s lights drew dark shapes on my wall. I had forgotten to close the curtains, but laziness and the cold kept me prisoner in my bed.

But there was something else. Fear. A silly, irrational fear for someone my age, with my education, even my build. But it was there. It always showed up when I was alone in the darkness of my bedroom and couldn’t sleep.

I forced myself, as I always did whenever I sank into this turbulent sea of my memory, to think about my day’s activities. To recall all the work that had piled up in the shop and to remember the always-annoyed customers who came asking for the owner. And when they saw me in my work clothes, covered head to toe in motor grease, they would cast a fleeting look of disdain, and some even dared to fire the question: “If you’re the engineer and the owner of the shop, what are you doing under the cars tightening bolts? Isn’t that your employees’ job?”

Because I feel like it, that’s why. I love my work, and I love cars; I don’t see anything wrong with it. But I’m used to the question by now, so I simply say: “Nice to meet you. How can I help you?”

And then comes the usual chatter.

“…I barely drove it… I don’t know how it broke down… I barely saw the pole, it’s just a scratch… I know mechanics; you won’t fool me… This is a robbery; you’re overcharging…”

Tic, tic, tic

There it was again. The sound came from outside my window, or was it on my window? It ripped me violently from my thoughts and dragged me back into that corner of my mind many years ago.

I could feel myself running in my child’s body, in the middle of the forest, hearing the footsteps chasing me, getting closer and closer.

I could almost see them in front of me, those red eyes staring with blank faces, drawing nearer every second. I keep running through the streets toward the bridge. A scream choked in my throat, impossible to release from sheer terror, until…

Tic, tic, tic

I squeezed my eyes shut, never to open them again. No matter what I heard. I didn’t want to see, projected on the wall, the shadow that stalks my nightmares.

People outside my window, spying, waiting, haunting.

I felt the cold sweat trickle down my forehead and soak my sheets. A chilling claw ran down my spine.

Tic, tic, tic

It’s all in my head, I repeat to myself. It’s impossible; no one is there. It must be some stupid lost bird or just the wind. No one can be out there. It’s impossible!

Tic, tic, tic

I’m a grown man. I can’t be afraid of the dark in my own bedroom.

Tic, tic, tic

I live on the fourth floor. No one could possibly be out there. It’s impossible!

Tic, tic, tic

I pulled the covers over my head to block out any sound and force myself to sleep. But the noise is still there, muffled through the blankets.

Toc, toc, toc

It was becoming more insistent, more intense. This had never happened before. Normally, it would suddenly stop after a few minutes, but not this time.

Toc, toc, toc

Toc, toc, toc

I couldn’t take it anymore. I ripped the blankets off.

Tic, tic, tic

I jumped out of bed and grabbed a shoe from the floor, ready to scare off whatever damned animal had chosen to shred my nerves that night.

Tic, tic, tic

I spun around, holding my improvised weapon high, ready to hurl it even if it shattered the glass.

Tic, tic, tic

But I couldn’t move. I saw it clearly outside my window, though only for a brief instant.

It was more a shadow than a defined figure. Large, taller than me, though there was no way to know its true height. The only thing I could make out were those glowing red eyes staring at me.

My arm went numb, still holding the shoe above my head. I couldn’t breathe, and I began to lose consciousness. I collapsed to the floor, though I didn’t feel the fall, and the last thing I saw, before everything went dark, was that shadow outside my window raising its arm and placing its hand on the glass.

Then I blacked out. I had those strange dreams again. I barely remember them now, but I know that feeling of terror lasted throughout.

I woke up in the morning with sunlight streaming through the window. It was gone, of course. It must have left when I fainted.

“No, Mr. Montero. It wasn’t there anymore because it was never there. That was also a dream,” Dr. Torres interrupted my story with a tired, bored tone. “You must understand, it was only a dream. And no matter how recurrent or vivid it was, it isn’t reality. You have to accept that so we can move forward.”

“It didn’t feel like a dream.” I reply. “I think I could tell the difference. But I also understand it can’t be possible.”

“Of course it can’t be possible. I’m afraid you’re getting worse, and if this continues, I’ll have to prescribe medication or perhaps consider hospitalizing you for a few days. Maybe you just need rest. Have you been under a lot of stress, Mr. Montero?”

“No. Everything’s normal. A lot of work, yes, but I love my job. I feel better there.” I run my hand through my hair. “Maybe if I try sleeping at the shop, I won’t have the same problem? I don’t know if it’s something that only happens in my bedroom.”

The doctor sighed, rubbing his temple with his fingers, eyes closed, and repeated, ”It isn’t something that actually happens, Mr. Montero. You must understand it’s just a dream, something impossible. You live on the fourth floor. No one can walk suspended in the air four stories up to wander outside your window and watch you.”

He kept staring at me with his green eyes behind gold-rimmed glasses.

“It’s like someone, right now, in this office, on the tenth floor, coming to find you, walking outside the window, and standing there to watch…”

The words died in his throat. I looked up, and his face twisted into a grimace of terror. His eyes, wide open, were staring directly at the window behind me.

I saw them reflected in those ridiculous glasses as they slid slowly down his nose. Two glowing red dots and a human-shaped shadow, raising its hand and pressing it against the glass.

My heart wanted to burst out of my chest. I didn’t dare even breathe. I felt a drop of cold sweat trickle down my temple.

And then I heard it.

Loud and clear.

Inevitable…

Tic, tic, tic