It didn’t matter if it was real or not. It still freaked him out. No matter what, it still freaked him out.
As he brushed his teeth, he looked out the window into the blackness of the night. Into the void, as it were. Into what he couldn’t know.
And then he heard it. A tap at the window. He whipped back around and peered out, squinting to see what the fuck that was. Nothing. He turned out the light and ducked down beneath the level of the window.
“Click” It happened again. Stay down, he thought, stay down you fool and you won’t get into any trouble here.
CLICK it happened again and it was a bigger rock. The light out, he peeked up and looked out into the woods to see if he could make anything out. The moon was full and he could see the edge of the woods. Just the edge. To go beyond that would require going out into the woods.
He’s seen too may shows not to go. Too many times where they had interest but not the gumption to go out and do something. Damn it all, this time was his time. This was it. This time he was going to beat the odds and go into the woods with a video camera.
He raced down the stairs, being as quiet as possible. not wanting to wake anyone or disturb the beast that was hitting his window with rocks. He made he way out the side door onto the deck, and kept looking. creeping along the side of the house, he looked out. The flood light was on and there was no way he was gong to that way, fuck that shit. He was going to have to make his way around in an arc through the darkness, trying desperately to be quiet.
New England had its share of woods and this wood was no different than the rest. Loud branches littered the ground and leaves were everywhere. The smell of the leaves as they rotted filled your nostrils, especially this late at night. The tree canopy wasn’t filled up yet in the early spring, so the moon light cast a strong shadow that played on ones imagination and senses. Where the flickering movements real? Were there animals in the woods? Was there really a Bigfoot? A Sasquatch?
He made his way out the side yard and into the neighbor’s yard. He’d been this way several times before and knew that the neighbor has a back entrance to the path in the woods, too. He makes his way to the path at the back of his neighbor’s properly, past the deer target with a big salt lick under it, and into the the woods.
He kept his pace slow and his footing deliberate. He could see more tonight than most nights and he intended to use it to his advantage. He walked like an Indian and kept his footing like a deer.
He scoured the night and several times closed his eyes tightly for 10 seconds just to re-ajjust his eyes to the night, to the dark. It worked. Off in the distance he saw movement. He used this peripheral vision because looking straight at this wasn’t bound to try to fool him and he didn’t want any false surprises, any false sightings, anything to throw him off.
“I have the upper hand, now, you fucker.” he kept circling back, looking for the position that had a direct sight go his bathroom window so he could find where the creature had been viewing him. He made it around a wide arc and came to a clearing. The stench was awful, half skunk and half sweaty body odor, and he quickly lifted up the collar of his shirt over his nose and cursed under his breath. What the fuck was this thing? And why the fuck did it stink so much?
He examined the bed where the creature had lay, and he could clearly see the second floor of his house from here. He could see it really well, and he looked off into the distance with his peripheral vision again, hoping to catch errant movement of the beast. Nothing. Damnit!
He crouched down and grabbed a handful of matted hair from the nest and sniffed it. Oh, god, what a horrific stench. He was looking around and as he turned, he saw it’s eyes glowing and he looked up into the face of the beast. It roared and stretched its arms up.