• The Stranger

    by Moheli A.K. Renae

    In that town, I could hear the silence. I could hear that deafening silence and it was driving me insane. It was so quiet and empty…. Yet it was full of life, or a semblance of it, but I could not hear any life. I could not see any life. I could not speak of any life.

    It was the morning and the sun peaked over the roofs of the wooden houses, painting the town with light hues of pink and orange. A cold beginning-of-Fall breeze floated through the town, blowing out the candles in the street that had been lit for the night. The birds sang their happy little songs, but as cheery as the morning seemed to be, there was an ethereal fear that clung to every shadow and every alley-way. It hung about the air so that every breath that I took seemed to fill me with such dread that I had to sit for a moment to assemble my thoughts. As soon as I gathered myself I slowly stood on shaking legs. Then, as quickly and briskly as I could, I made my way toward the center of town, keeping my eyes forward and hoping that nothing unexpected was to come my way. The walk was a short distance as this was a small, rural town that had just been colonized by us Englishmen, but it felt like a mile to my weak legs. The shadows seemed thickest in this part of town as I glanced behind me in disconcert, being careful not to look at the ground. It was very silent. But the silence was piercing.

    It had not always been like this. This town used to be full of cheerful attitudes and voices; “Good morning’s” and “how do you do’s.” Children would laugh and play with their poppets. Stray animals would yowl for food and water. Babies would cry, mothers would hush them, and men went to work in the fields. It seemed that everything was perfect. The crops were plentiful and the sun would shine. That was enough for anybody. It was a happy time that was thought to last forever. However, just at the peak of this content time, there came the stranger.

    At first, he was unnoticeable. He would always travel from the same direction and come to the tavern. He never drank, he never ate, and he never spoke. The rain would patter on the roof outside as it darkened the tavern room and the miss of the tavern would light only a few candles that casted eerie, flickering shadows on the wooden walls. The stranger would sit in an unusually dark corner for a couple of hours, a blank stare on his face as he looked around at the residents. Then he would leave, taking with him his horrid rain.

    The first couple of times I ran into this stranger, I had no real interest with him. There were two neighboring villages and strangers often walked through our town without so much as a “Good day.” And it was often no discomfort to see familiar faces. However, every time I saw that stranger, his face was shrouded in shadows. The third time that I saw him was no different. The circumstances were ominous, at best, as it was storming and I happened to be asleep in my bed. A loud crack of thunder startled me and woke me from my slumber. I sat up in my bed, blurry eyed and not very much awake. I began to hear the loud rhythmic beating of wood on wood and instantly knew that the shutters connecting to the window of my bedroom had been blown open in the storm.

    Groggily, I got out of my bed and stumbled toward the noise, wishing that it would stop making that bloody sound. When I reached the window, I lifted the satchel and pulled it open. Then I leaned out to grab the shutters.

    That was when I noticed the stranger. My heart seemed to stop beating for the merest of moments then sped up in a fast second. I could see that the stranger was looking up at me from the street, his visage in shadows. I swallowed the lump in my throat and questioned the fear that I felt. I did not know this man. He was probably lost and just looking for the nearest tavern so he could dry off and have a mug of ale. He must have mistaken my house for a tavern. What have I to fear?

    “Good sir!” I called out to him. “What business have you to stand under my window? Are you looking for a tavern?”

    He did not reply, but stared back at me unflinchingly.

    “Sir?” I asked. “Sir, are you quite all right?”

    Still no reply and no movement on his part. Maybe something was the matter?

    “Stay there, sir!” I told him in concern. “I will be right down!” I closed the shutters then, grabbed my coat, and ran down the steps of my house and out the door. What could possibly have made a man so motionless? When I opened the door and glanced about the street, however, the man was nowhere to be seen. I looked around in confusion and walked into the rain which was starting to let up. What had that been about?

    “Hezekiah!” someone yelled, startling me. I turned toward the voice and saw my good friend William.

    “William!” I said. “My friend! Did you happen to see a man walk away from my house not but a moment ago?”

    “I cannot say that I have, Hezekiah,” William said as he looked past me to try and look for the man. “But this rain plays tricks on the eyes so I cannot be sure.” I shook my head at him knowing that the stranger would probably be gone by now anyway.

    “What have you come here for William?” I asked and he focused his attention on me.

    “Elizabeth has been sick,” he said, referring to his wife who had a mysterious sickness that she had caught after severe trauma to the head. She had seemed fine at first, but eventually began to cough up blood. It was thought to be cured when I prescribed her some medicine. “She is coughing up blood once more. What do you suggest we do?”

    “She is still bleeding?” I asked, and William nodded. “Then double the dosage of the medicine I have prescribed and clean the blood away from her mouth. Hurry to her. She will need you now.”

    “Yes, sir, but what if that does not work?” he protested. “My wife may die Hezekiah. Surely you must know that?”

    “I understand this William and I will visit your wife first thing tomorrow morning,” I said and clapped him on the shoulder. “But for now go home, take care of your wife, and get some rest. That is all you can do.”

    William sighed, but nodded his acceptance and turned back for his house. When he left, I glanced back at the spot where the stranger had been standing and speculated on the odd situation for a moment then headed back inside for my bed.

    The following morning I had gone to check on Elizabeth, but the double dosage seemed to be helping her and my assistance was not needed. The day had gone by quickly after that as I made my house calls and I had not seen the stranger since last night.

    A week went by with no abnormalities in my schedule and I was grateful for that. Amazingly, I found that there was time to take a day off from my visits and decided to relax with a book in my favorite chair by the fire. Just as I was becoming engrossed with the book in my hands, I began to hear the pitter-patter of rain on the roof of my house. At first, the sound was slow, but it soon sped up and I had to put my book down for the sound was distracting. As I put my book down, I felt the hair on the back of my neck stand up and felt the hot, steady breath of a person behind me. Quickly, I stood up and turned around, knocking the chair over in the process. There, in the darkened corner, stood the stranger. My eyes widened as I stared at this man and he at me.

    “W-what makes you think that you are welcome in my home, stranger?” I asked. He did not reply. He remained silent in his dark corner and the silence was overwhelming.

    “Heed me, stranger,” I said. “Get out of this house now, or--“ There was a knock at the door and I glanced at it. When I looked back in the corner where the stranger had been standing, however, he was gone. How could that be? I had looked away only for a second! Where could that man have gone? There were not a lot of places that he could have possibly gone! There was another knock at the door and I hesitated to answer it.

    “Who is it?” I called.

    “William Smith, Hezekiah,” William called back. “Come quickly, sir; it is Elizabeth! I fear for her life!”

    “I will be right there,” I said, gathering my wits. I walked slowly toward the door, taking in deep breaths and calming myself down. When I got to the door, I reached for the knob and hesitated once more. Then I grabbed the knob and pulled the door open. Standing in the doorway was not William. Standing in the doorway was the stranger, his face no longer hidden by the shadows as the light from the candles of my home lit up his face. And what a horrid visage it was. His eyes were sunken in so that they were just endless pits of nothing. His lips were dry and chapped and his skin was pale and thin. Blue veins popped out everywhere on his face. He was like the reaper incarnate and I could not help but gasp and stand defenseless as the stranger opened his mouth and let out a horrible scream and fell upon me.

    ***

    “Hezekiah?” a familiar voice inquired. “Hezekiah, what has happened?” I felt a hand on my shoulder and that seemed to jolt me from my haze. I sat up quickly, but my head swam and I had to lie back down. It was then that I recognized both the town mayor and William.

    “Are you quite all right, sir?” asked Thomas, the mayor who was a burly man with thinning hair.

    “I knocked at your door, Hezekiah!” William exclaimed. “I knocked and I did not know that you were faint, but I needed your help, sir!” His voice became frantic. “I came to your door, sir, because I fear that Elizabeth is dieing! But when you answered the door, you froze and then fell to the ground! I ran to Mayor Thomas as fast as I could for I thought he would know what to do! Pardon me for my awry concerns, but Elizabeth needs you, sir!” He glanced out of the doorway and toward the general direction of his house. “She needs you now for she is coughing up more blood than ever before!”

    “Calm down, William,” the mayor spoke up as he helped me to my feet. “Be rational and let Hezekiah rest for a moment.”

    “But the time for resting is over!” William exclaimed. “Elizabeth needs help now!”

    “William,” Thomas began, but I waved my hand at him to stay quiet.

    “William is right,” I said and slowly stood on my feet. “If what he says is true then I must hurry and quicken to Elizabeth’s side. I will not have her die because of me.” I could not let my encounter with the stranger shake me too much. Other people needed me now.

    Taking in my countenance, Thomas began to protest, but I waved him off once more and a thankful William helped me out of my house and down the street to his home.

    It was still raining so by the time we reached William and Elizabeth’s house, I was drenched and thankful for the warmth of the inside of their home.

    “Now, then,” I said. “Where is the patient?”

    “In the bedroom, sir,” William replied. “I was in the family quarters waiting out the storm when I heard her coughing from the bedroom. I went to check on her and she was coughing up more blood than usual.”

    We walked to the bedroom and entered it just as Elizabeth was having another coughing spell. The first thing I noticed about the room was that blood was spattered everywhere. The sheets, the floor, parts of the walls, and especially Elizabeth’s nightgown and palms. She lay there convulsively with her long brown hair covering her face as the coughing spell shook her frame and I watched helplessly at the side.

    “Doctor,” she said weakly when the coughing spell was over. “Something does not feel right here.”

    I looked at where her hand rested upon her stomach, but the sheet was covering her up in that particular area and I could not see what was wrong.

    “Can you sit up, Elizabeth?” I asked her. She struggled and shuddered a bit as she tried to do as I asked, but all her efforts just ended up in another coughing spell and more of her blood.

    “I am sorry, Doctor,” she said.

    “It is quite all right,” I told her as I sat on the bed beside her. “Just hold still and try not to cough.”

    I pressed my palm against her forehead which was abnormally cool.

    “There is no fever,” I said. But there should be one, I thought. I looked at the young woman’s pale face and let her know what I was going to do so that there would be no surprises for her.

    “I will lift the sheets from your body and feel for the point of pain on your stomach, yes?”

    She nodded in agreement, but I hesitated. For some reason, I felt dread at the simple notion of pulling back the covers. Some irrational fear like that of the boogeyman came over me and I felt that something horrid would be under those sheets. What was wrong with me? I’d seen infected wounds, rotting flesh, things much worse than what this woman was going through. I was being ridiculous.

    Still, I hesitated once more as my hands reached the top of the covers. After slowly curling my fingers through the sheets, I pulled rather weakly. Then I quickly yanked the blanket away from Elizabeth and gasped at what I saw.

    Lying at Elizabeth’s side was the stranger with his pale hand digging into the young woman’s stomach. The skin seemed to be attached to the stranger’s hand as if it had been growing around it for more than a month now. I blanched and stood up as this pale stranger opened his mouth in a snarl as if he was hissing at me, but I heard only silence. Quickly, I looked around the room and saw a dinner knife on a plate set off to the side. I lunged for it and wielded it in front of me.

    “Hezekiah?” William asked. “What is it? What is wrong?”

    “Doctor?” Elizabeth inquired, her eyes wide. I ignored them.

    “Why must you plague me with your presence?!” I yelled at the stranger. He stopped his snarling and did not reply. There was only that overwhelming silence.

    “Hezekiah?” William tried to ask. “Wh-who are you talking to, sir?” But I did not hear him.

    “Why?!” I asked again. “Answer me!” But instead of answering me, the stranger opened his mouth again and let out an earsplitting scream which made me stumble back in surprise.

    “Stop!” I yelled, but it just became louder.

    “Hezekiah! What is wrong with you?!” William yelled at me, but the screaming was too much.

    “Stop it!” I yelled once more and lunged at the stranger with the knife in hand. And as the knife cut into the man, he seemed to disappear, but his scream still rang in my head. I tried to locate the source, but I just could not figure it out.

    “Hezekiah!” William yelled once more and I turned toward him. But no, no, no! It was not William! It was the stranger with William’s voice!

    “Please, Hezekiah!” the stranger pleaded with me. “What is wrong?!”

    “Wretched man,” I spat and lunged at him. I slammed the knife into his stomach and felt as the blade slid smoothly into his flesh.

    “Heze-“ he began, but stopped as the pain overwhelmed him. He fell to the floor in a slump and I slammed my foot into his neck, breaking the bone. For a moment he stiffened, but then he became still and the stranger was dead.

    From behind me, I heard a distressed noise and turned toward the direction it came from. Here I cried out in anger for there, on the bed once more, was the stranger!

    “Demon!” I shouted and watched as he cowered before me. I lunged at him again and sliced his neck open, killing him instantly, but dirtying myself with his blood in the process. I glanced around for William and Elizabeth, but they were nowhere to be found. They must have left for their own safety. I stumbled out of the house, the knife still in my hand, and into the street. I breathed deeply to calm myself and looked for the familiar faces of my friends, but what I saw made me pale in fear.

    The stranger was everywhere. There were multiple variations of him walking up and down the street looking at me, screaming at me, mocking me! Oh, how horrible this screaming was! I had to stop it, I had to! I glared at the stranger. This was all his fault! I had to do something about him! I had to kill him! Him and every last damned variation of him! I lunged at the nearest stranger, a small being with a child’s voice, and started stabbing him.

    ***

    That was a week ago. And the screaming has stopped…for now. For the stranger brings the rain and with the rain, he brings his screams which have become louder than ever. But I no longer care. His kin are dead, but the rain keeps coming.

    It is starting to rain again. And I can hear him screaming.