Eyes Open
Six.
"Typical," Troy muttered.
He had been enjoying his drive home – it was nice to be able to go a little faster than was perhaps allowed – but upon turning a corner, he had been met by a solid wall of fog. Troy might happen to enjoy a little bit of speeding when he could get away with it, but he wasn’t a stupid driver, and he knew when it was time to slow down. The fog was so thick that he could barely see anything even with his fog lights on, and he was forced to slow to what was almost a crawl. He only saw corners at the last minute, and knew it would be dangerous to even consider going over ten miles per hour. This, though, was incredibly frustrating, and without the scenery whipping past and the sound of the engine, the music was unbearably loud. Reluctantly, Troy turned it down.
It was unusual for there to be fog this bad. Troy had seen fog around here before, if not all at this time of the year, but this was definitely the worst fog he’d ever seen. The entire landscape was bathed in a dark grey, every so often reflecting orange as Troy drove under a streetlamp. As he turned the corner into a street that was more residential, the orange glow became a further burden. It made everything look even more abstract, and Troy realized it would be dangerous to continue trying to drive. He pulled over to the side of the road, the right hand side of the car up on the sidewalk. He knew he could be as careful as he liked – other drivers might not be so thoughtful.
Troy kept the engine running for now – it was cold outside and he knew that it wouldn’t take long for the cold to seep into the car and make him uncomfortable. He’d had plenty of experience with staying warm in stationary cars – many times, in their younger days, he and Nate would sneak off somewhere in the car and get drunk, sleeping in the car so they didn’t have to drive back. To take his mind off of the dull situation he had found himself in, Troy decided to think about these more exciting times for a while.
He was considering putting his seat back a little to ride out the potentially long wait when he saw it. He felt his heart drop, and instantly his mind went into overdrive, trying to point out all of the things that it could have been. It could have been a bird flying at an awkward angle, or even something hanging up in the window of a house that he couldn’t see. However, as Troy leaned closer to the windshield, squinting though the grainy, orange-grey air in front of him, he knew that there was definitely something standing under the streetlight closest to him. It was on the other side of the road, and a little way down, but Troy knew that his eyes were not deceiving him. Something was there, and that something was taking on a more solid shape even as he watched.
"No," Troy muttered, leaning so close to the windshield that his nose could feel the cold on the other side of it. "No!"
Troy threw himself back against his seat in disbelief. He stared at the dark shape under the streetlight, taking in the elongated limbs, the vague outline of a suit, and the fact that the figure was abnormally tall.
"No fucking way!" Troy suddenly shouted, banging his fist against the steering wheel. "No!"
Suddenly, Troy was possessed by an annoyance so strong that he found himself pulling his door open and stumbling out of the car into the night. The cold air shocked him, and he could feel the uncomfortable dampness of the fog around him.
"What the Hell?" Troy yelled, knowing that, subconsciously, he was shouting at the being he was currently witnessing. It was standing completely still once more, seemingly staring soundlessly at Troy, who stood a few meters away from his car, his fists clenched, breathing heavily. Troy took a few cautious steps closer, squinting harder, desperately trying to find an explanation for what he was seeing.
Quite suddenly, the creature turned its head sharply, and Troy felt his stomach drop. He scrambled back to his car, his throat dry, the scene around him spinning with fear. He had never seen it move before. He hadn’t even realized it was capable. What was stopping it grabbing him right now?
It was with the air of a frightened child the Troy threw himself back into his car, pulling the door closed behind him. Without even bothering to put on his seatbelt, he threw the car into drive and pressed his foot down on the gas. The car lurched forward into the fog, and Troy kept his eyes firmly ahead at what little he could see as he passed the streetlight.
"Fuck," he muttered to himself, leaning right over the steering wheel as he drove, as though it would help him see through the fog. "Fuck, no! This can’t be happening. Not now. It can’t be. I’m not crazy, God damn it!"
Troy was practically shouting now, his knuckles white as he gripped the steering wheel with all his strength, as though it would keep him from really loosing it. He was aware he was driving too fast to be safe, but he didn’t care. Every turn of the wheel brought him further away from that creature, and for now, he didn’t care if getting away was a risk to his life or not. In his mind’s eye, he could see the creature striding after him, its unnaturally long legs catching up the distance effortlessly as it glided towards its victim. It was a very vivid thought, and one that Troy was not enjoying.
Options flashed through his mind. Should he call Dr. Friscoe? He didn’t want to – he knew what the doctor had meant by putting Troy through "further tests". Troy understood that he meant something along the lines of schizophrenia, but surely that was impossible? As far as Troy knew, his family didn’t really have a history of mental illness. The only thing he could think of was post-natal depression, and he was one hundred per cent certain that he wasn’t suffering from that.
Perhaps he should call Nate? He was good at providing logical explanations. But Troy hadn’t told Nate about the hallucinations – the only person who knew aside from Troy himself was his doctor. Troy wasn’t ready to accept the fact that he was seeing things. It was too crazy. He refused to believe that such a thing could be happening. Who hallucinated about a tall guy in a suit, anyway?
Troy recognized his street now, and it was with much reluctance that he slowed down. He was still picturing the tall, slender man stalking through the darkness, catching up with him, stretching out his long arms ...
Troy shook the thoughts out of his mind and tried to focus on the more optimistic view that at least the fog was lifting around here. In fact, by the time he turned right into his drive, it was almost gone. Visibility was nearly back to normal and Troy felt relieved that he could look around himself as he climbed out of his car, locked the door, and hurried to his house. He slammed the key into the lock, all the time looking wildly around him, and it was just as the door finally clicked open that he spotted, on the very edge of his vision, the tall man taking up residence under a nearby streetlight.
"Fuck off!" Troy suddenly screamed, anger swimming through him. "Just leave me alone!"
He stumbled into the house, no longer caring that he was staring to act like a schizophrenic and double-locked the door behind him. In actions strangely familiar to those of the other night, he then ran around both floors of the house, closing all curtains and blinds, avoiding looking towards where he had last seen the tall man as best as he could.
Feeling more like a child every minute that passed, Troy double-checked that all the doors were locked, ran back up the stairs and went into his room. He shut his door behind him, finding himself pushing his desk chair under the door handle, and climbed into bed, hiding down under the covers and squeezing his eyes shut, trying desperately to calm himself.
"It’s nothing serious," he whispered. "It can’t be. You don’t have a mental illness, Troy. It could be side effects. Anyway, there was nothing saying that the hallucinations would disappear completely when you started sleeping. Perhaps it’s still ... I don’t know, coming out of the system of something?"
Nothing was convincing him, and it took him several hours before he finally stretched out into a more comfortable position. He lay quietly in bed, his ears picking up every tiny sound around him – birds rustling in trees, cars on distant roads, heating pipes clanking. Troy even refused to look at the curtains, knowing that if he saw the silhouette of what was following him, it would send him over the edge. He had to think clearly and he most certainly had to stay calm. If he lost his logic, he really would start acting like a crazy person. He needed to continue to think logically, and see how things went. If he thought about it hard enough, he could just about convince himself that what he had seen was probably just the same sort of thing that had been occurring earlier. He could have several more hallucinations until they went away completely, for all he knew. He wasn’t a doctor – he didn’t know how these things worked.
However, there was another part of him – a part that was slowly growing stronger and stronger – that thought that maybe, perhaps, this was something more sinister. How else could he explain the unnatural fear this being instilled in him? He liked to think that, with other hallucinations, such as his auditory ones, there would be a voice in the back of his head which remained in control of the situation. However, with this tall man, the only instinct he had was survival instinct – he knew he would literally do anything to avoid being caught by that thing. He didn’t understand it. If it was only a hallucination, why was he so terrified?
Troy reached over for the glass of water beside his bed and quickly took one of his sleeping pills along with a gulp of the slightly strange-tasting water. He didn’t like water at the best of times, especially when it had been sitting beside his bed for a long while. However, he needed sleep, and he knew that sleep would never come naturally to him tonight. He knew it would be between ten and fifteen minutes until they worked, and so he tried to distract himself with other things – funny films, times out with his friends – anything but the tall, faceless man that he had seen earlier. Eventually, he began to feel sleep overtaking him, and he tried to relax as much as possible in his situation.
Just as sleep finally found him, Troy thought he heard something move. He couldn’t be sure, but it sounded like footsteps, pacing up and down the hall outside his room. As he finally gave in to eyelids that were slowly getting heavier, he thought he saw the door handle rattle slightly, as though someone was trying to get in but found their way blocked by the chair he had rammed against it. Although terrified, Troy knew there was nothing he could do now, except from drift into unconsciousness.
He had been enjoying his drive home – it was nice to be able to go a little faster than was perhaps allowed – but upon turning a corner, he had been met by a solid wall of fog. Troy might happen to enjoy a little bit of speeding when he could get away with it, but he wasn’t a stupid driver, and he knew when it was time to slow down. The fog was so thick that he could barely see anything even with his fog lights on, and he was forced to slow to what was almost a crawl. He only saw corners at the last minute, and knew it would be dangerous to even consider going over ten miles per hour. This, though, was incredibly frustrating, and without the scenery whipping past and the sound of the engine, the music was unbearably loud. Reluctantly, Troy turned it down.
It was unusual for there to be fog this bad. Troy had seen fog around here before, if not all at this time of the year, but this was definitely the worst fog he’d ever seen. The entire landscape was bathed in a dark grey, every so often reflecting orange as Troy drove under a streetlamp. As he turned the corner into a street that was more residential, the orange glow became a further burden. It made everything look even more abstract, and Troy realized it would be dangerous to continue trying to drive. He pulled over to the side of the road, the right hand side of the car up on the sidewalk. He knew he could be as careful as he liked – other drivers might not be so thoughtful.
Troy kept the engine running for now – it was cold outside and he knew that it wouldn’t take long for the cold to seep into the car and make him uncomfortable. He’d had plenty of experience with staying warm in stationary cars – many times, in their younger days, he and Nate would sneak off somewhere in the car and get drunk, sleeping in the car so they didn’t have to drive back. To take his mind off of the dull situation he had found himself in, Troy decided to think about these more exciting times for a while.
He was considering putting his seat back a little to ride out the potentially long wait when he saw it. He felt his heart drop, and instantly his mind went into overdrive, trying to point out all of the things that it could have been. It could have been a bird flying at an awkward angle, or even something hanging up in the window of a house that he couldn’t see. However, as Troy leaned closer to the windshield, squinting though the grainy, orange-grey air in front of him, he knew that there was definitely something standing under the streetlight closest to him. It was on the other side of the road, and a little way down, but Troy knew that his eyes were not deceiving him. Something was there, and that something was taking on a more solid shape even as he watched.
"No," Troy muttered, leaning so close to the windshield that his nose could feel the cold on the other side of it. "No!"
Troy threw himself back against his seat in disbelief. He stared at the dark shape under the streetlight, taking in the elongated limbs, the vague outline of a suit, and the fact that the figure was abnormally tall.
"No fucking way!" Troy suddenly shouted, banging his fist against the steering wheel. "No!"
Suddenly, Troy was possessed by an annoyance so strong that he found himself pulling his door open and stumbling out of the car into the night. The cold air shocked him, and he could feel the uncomfortable dampness of the fog around him.
"What the Hell?" Troy yelled, knowing that, subconsciously, he was shouting at the being he was currently witnessing. It was standing completely still once more, seemingly staring soundlessly at Troy, who stood a few meters away from his car, his fists clenched, breathing heavily. Troy took a few cautious steps closer, squinting harder, desperately trying to find an explanation for what he was seeing.
Quite suddenly, the creature turned its head sharply, and Troy felt his stomach drop. He scrambled back to his car, his throat dry, the scene around him spinning with fear. He had never seen it move before. He hadn’t even realized it was capable. What was stopping it grabbing him right now?
It was with the air of a frightened child the Troy threw himself back into his car, pulling the door closed behind him. Without even bothering to put on his seatbelt, he threw the car into drive and pressed his foot down on the gas. The car lurched forward into the fog, and Troy kept his eyes firmly ahead at what little he could see as he passed the streetlight.
"Fuck," he muttered to himself, leaning right over the steering wheel as he drove, as though it would help him see through the fog. "Fuck, no! This can’t be happening. Not now. It can’t be. I’m not crazy, God damn it!"
Troy was practically shouting now, his knuckles white as he gripped the steering wheel with all his strength, as though it would keep him from really loosing it. He was aware he was driving too fast to be safe, but he didn’t care. Every turn of the wheel brought him further away from that creature, and for now, he didn’t care if getting away was a risk to his life or not. In his mind’s eye, he could see the creature striding after him, its unnaturally long legs catching up the distance effortlessly as it glided towards its victim. It was a very vivid thought, and one that Troy was not enjoying.
Options flashed through his mind. Should he call Dr. Friscoe? He didn’t want to – he knew what the doctor had meant by putting Troy through "further tests". Troy understood that he meant something along the lines of schizophrenia, but surely that was impossible? As far as Troy knew, his family didn’t really have a history of mental illness. The only thing he could think of was post-natal depression, and he was one hundred per cent certain that he wasn’t suffering from that.
Perhaps he should call Nate? He was good at providing logical explanations. But Troy hadn’t told Nate about the hallucinations – the only person who knew aside from Troy himself was his doctor. Troy wasn’t ready to accept the fact that he was seeing things. It was too crazy. He refused to believe that such a thing could be happening. Who hallucinated about a tall guy in a suit, anyway?
Troy recognized his street now, and it was with much reluctance that he slowed down. He was still picturing the tall, slender man stalking through the darkness, catching up with him, stretching out his long arms ...
Troy shook the thoughts out of his mind and tried to focus on the more optimistic view that at least the fog was lifting around here. In fact, by the time he turned right into his drive, it was almost gone. Visibility was nearly back to normal and Troy felt relieved that he could look around himself as he climbed out of his car, locked the door, and hurried to his house. He slammed the key into the lock, all the time looking wildly around him, and it was just as the door finally clicked open that he spotted, on the very edge of his vision, the tall man taking up residence under a nearby streetlight.
"Fuck off!" Troy suddenly screamed, anger swimming through him. "Just leave me alone!"
He stumbled into the house, no longer caring that he was staring to act like a schizophrenic and double-locked the door behind him. In actions strangely familiar to those of the other night, he then ran around both floors of the house, closing all curtains and blinds, avoiding looking towards where he had last seen the tall man as best as he could.
Feeling more like a child every minute that passed, Troy double-checked that all the doors were locked, ran back up the stairs and went into his room. He shut his door behind him, finding himself pushing his desk chair under the door handle, and climbed into bed, hiding down under the covers and squeezing his eyes shut, trying desperately to calm himself.
"It’s nothing serious," he whispered. "It can’t be. You don’t have a mental illness, Troy. It could be side effects. Anyway, there was nothing saying that the hallucinations would disappear completely when you started sleeping. Perhaps it’s still ... I don’t know, coming out of the system of something?"
Nothing was convincing him, and it took him several hours before he finally stretched out into a more comfortable position. He lay quietly in bed, his ears picking up every tiny sound around him – birds rustling in trees, cars on distant roads, heating pipes clanking. Troy even refused to look at the curtains, knowing that if he saw the silhouette of what was following him, it would send him over the edge. He had to think clearly and he most certainly had to stay calm. If he lost his logic, he really would start acting like a crazy person. He needed to continue to think logically, and see how things went. If he thought about it hard enough, he could just about convince himself that what he had seen was probably just the same sort of thing that had been occurring earlier. He could have several more hallucinations until they went away completely, for all he knew. He wasn’t a doctor – he didn’t know how these things worked.
However, there was another part of him – a part that was slowly growing stronger and stronger – that thought that maybe, perhaps, this was something more sinister. How else could he explain the unnatural fear this being instilled in him? He liked to think that, with other hallucinations, such as his auditory ones, there would be a voice in the back of his head which remained in control of the situation. However, with this tall man, the only instinct he had was survival instinct – he knew he would literally do anything to avoid being caught by that thing. He didn’t understand it. If it was only a hallucination, why was he so terrified?
Troy reached over for the glass of water beside his bed and quickly took one of his sleeping pills along with a gulp of the slightly strange-tasting water. He didn’t like water at the best of times, especially when it had been sitting beside his bed for a long while. However, he needed sleep, and he knew that sleep would never come naturally to him tonight. He knew it would be between ten and fifteen minutes until they worked, and so he tried to distract himself with other things – funny films, times out with his friends – anything but the tall, faceless man that he had seen earlier. Eventually, he began to feel sleep overtaking him, and he tried to relax as much as possible in his situation.
Just as sleep finally found him, Troy thought he heard something move. He couldn’t be sure, but it sounded like footsteps, pacing up and down the hall outside his room. As he finally gave in to eyelids that were slowly getting heavier, he thought he saw the door handle rattle slightly, as though someone was trying to get in but found their way blocked by the chair he had rammed against it. Although terrified, Troy knew there was nothing he could do now, except from drift into unconsciousness.