Only in flashes

By 10:50 PM the windows had become foggy, and the storm grew belligerent. It was nearly impossible to see anything out of it, yet Matthew Ferguson kept his tipsy gaze on the window as if he could see the harsh storm on the other side. After hours of teasing mist-like rain and bolts of lightning striking and lighting the night sky, the storm had finally made its way to the town of Vincent. Now the showers were heavy and constant, and the lightning flashed more than ever but there was still no sound of thunder.

 Matt sat on the sofa with crown royal on his breath, and eyes tired but staring, frustrated and feeling stuck. Any other night, storms came with great nostalgia for him. Memories of being in bed with a warm fleshed woman of his past always came to mind. Listening to the thunder and the rain pour at home, with feeling each other’s slow breathing as they fell asleep totally content. The thought always put a smile on his face and rightfully so. However, that was in his early twenties and separate ways followed. These days he didn’t have a woman.

He also wasn’t even home at the moment.

(2)

 

It was a Friday and during Matt’s shift at the warehouse, a gregarious work acquaintance extended an invitation toward him.

 “Hey man, why don’t you stop by after we get out of here tonight? I got some cold beer and some crown in my freezer that’s been calling my name for the last couple of days, I think it knows your name too.” That is what Devin, the co-worker offered.

 A thoughtful invite from a nice enough guy but Matt was still hesitant on accepting. He came straight home after his shift and gave some thought on the invitation. Matt didn’t have a lot of friends in Vincent, practically any friends really. In just the last year, he had moved to Colorado from Missouri and didn’t exactly make a lasting impression or hit it off with the people he had met so far. Besides Devin, apparently. It sounds unfortunate but Matt ended up liking his solitude and lack of friends.

 Devin was a great co-worker. Someone Matt would joke around with on the floor or talk about football with occasionally, though that was the jest of it. It wasn’t surprising that Devin reached out. He was polite, funny, and they both had common interest but Matt was a little more than a decade older than him. On the other hand, the idea of some cold beer and maybe some whisky appealed to Matt.

Also, Devin only lived about six duplexes down the street from Matt. So, if he did go, it wouldn’t be very challenging to leave. Or that’s at least what he thought at first. Within the hour of being home after work, he pushed himself to accept the invite.

 Getting ready to head out, Matthew closed all his doors, any windows that were slightly open and made sure everything was off, then grabbed his house key. Standing at the front door from the inside, he observed his grey lit duplex. Tidy, simple, and all on one level, he admired it as he thought of anything he might want to bring to Devin’s. Matt drew a blank and turned around to walk out the front door and locked it from the outside.

 Later on, when Matt reflected back to his walk down Wisconsin Ave while he stared at the dreaded foggy window, he felt foolish for not seeing this chaotic storm coming.

 Around 6:16 PM, post leaving his house but before the moon took over the cloudy sky, Matt could smell the rain lingering in the breeze. In addition to that, there was a chill present and that made it colder than a usual September evening. The world appeared Smokey on the walk over, it was a grey, wet, and cold night that eventually would seem endless to Matt.

 Every duplex on Wisconsin Ave looked almost identical to each other. All one level and most likely had two bedrooms with a decent size living room that connected with the smaller kitchen. He assumed Devin’s was like that and once Matt made it there, he noticed he was right. Though, more importantly, when he arrived at Devin’s doorstep, the sky had started to sprinkle.

That was the first warning Matthew didn’t take.

(3)

 

Alcohol, or any other kind of mind-altering substance, can make one looser or potentially sharper, but it could also make someone completely vulnerable. While they were indulging in their drinks, Matt and Devin had become oblivious to the brewing storm. But really, it wasn’t that they didn’t know it was sprinkling or that the clouds looked dark, it was just that they didn’t care.

 They shared many laughs and stories over their drinks as lightning started to illuminate the sky brighter than day. While they poured their shots of whiskey, rain poured harder. Neither of them mentioned the rain nor lightning all night and by the time the weather was undeniable, they were considered drunk.

 A little after 10:00 PM, Devin announced he would be going to bed. He offered Matt the couch if he didn’t want to make the trip home, he even jokingly offered his own bed, but the catch was that he would be in it too. That sent both men into a moment of hard laughter, a great way to end their night he thought. Unbeknownst to Matthew Ferguson, his night wasn’t even close to being over.

 Now caught up to Matt’s stare down with the foggy window, he sat on the sofa in the quiet and dark living room of his work acquaintance’s abode. Or perhaps, they were friends now.  Matt did enjoy the night with Devin’s company. The more he thought of it, the more accepting Matt was of Devin being his friend. Earlier in the night, they had even discussed going to a Denver Broncos football game in October. Isn’t that what friends do? Matt thought so.

 Despite the fact he now considered Devin a friend, Matt still wasn’t on board with sleeping over. The sofa wasn’t that comfortable, Devin didn’t give him a blanket, and knowing his own home and bed were only about a block away, staying seemed silly in a way. The only reason he didn’t leave right when Devin said goodnight was the flooding rain outside. It sounded strong and had a constant rhythm with the way it fell on the roof then onto the window. The lightening was just as intimidating. The window flashed as if there was a red-carpet event smothered with paparazzi right outside.

Therefore, Matt waited for the rage of the storm to pause for a moment and in that hopeful moment, he would make his way home.

(4)

 

It was now a quarter past 11:00 PM, and Matt had become so aggravated with the rain that presently, he was at the open front door. Watching the rain fall, waiting for it the cease.

 The streets looked flooded and as the rain showered, it looked thick as snow. As far as he could see, there wasn’t a single living thing out. No vermin in sight, no rebellious teen and surprisingly not one running car. This was the kind of rain that would force people to stay off the roads and avoid going outside at all. From the open door, Matt could feel the cold air rushing in. It was some of the coldest rain that could ever fall and when it did fall, it would make the roads or sidewalks hazardous to be on.

 The lack of activity began to make more sense to him as he watched what the weather was doing. No one would want to be caught in this storm and no one should be.

And suddenly, as Matthew tried to remember if he had heard any thunder tonight, the rain took a break.

 This was his chance and maybe the only one he was going to get until the morning. Without thinking or even locking Devin’s front door, Matt took off with a fast-paced walk into the streets. It was still raining but the rain falling now was nothing compared to how it was before. For the moment anyway.

 Both sides of Wisconsin Ave had large streams of water flowing toward the storm drains. Matt splashed in the inch of water on the road and kept his pace in the opposite direction of where the water was flowing. He was getting closer with his swift walking, but the cold urged him to go faster, to run the rest.

 At first, he decided against running, he could easily slip on the concrete, and once he had heard that someone is more likely to get drenched in the rain if they run rather than walk.

 Throwing that true or false statistic along with the caution of slipping on the road, he started to run home.  

 Shoes drenched and socks soaked, he made it to his unlit doorstep. Beforehand, Matt knew his front light wouldn’t be on but what came off as unusual to him, was how dripping wet the doorknob was. Though, he didn’t spend more than a minute lingering on the thought. It was immediately justified. It’s just the rain.

Out of his damp jeans, he pulled out his house key and seconds later, he busted in the house. He closed the door, nearly slamming it shut from complete relief of being home and done with the storm. The first task he tended to, before he even turned on any sort of light was taking off his drenched shoes and socks since he didn’t want to make footprints in the carpet.

 Then, a strange and vile aroma that filled the house stopped him right after his first shoe was off. The smell was sour and could potentially make someone gag. The more Matt smelt it, the more he could identify what it smelt like. A smell that we’ve all had to smell sometime, it was the stench of urine. He quickly flipped on his celling light and his heart seemed to jump to his tonsils at what he saw underneath the light.

 There were wet foot tracks all over his living room floor.

(5)

 

Within the first few minutes after Matt’s discovery of his home invasion, he was seemingly snapped right back into sobriety. His body went hot as he evaluated the wet steps all over his carpet and his stomach churned painfully while inhaling the ghastly funk the house reeked of. Before he could think of any action to take or a peep to make, a frightening but realistic thought came to him.

What if the intruder is still here?

Matt’s jaw might as well have been wired shut like a corpse. It took all his courage and maybe stupidity to muster a word.

“He-Hello?” he called. “Anybody there?”

Of course, there was no response.

 Still stationed by the door, he looked at his living room and beyond with the same feeling of absolute surprise he started with. Every door he had closed before leaving was now wide open with the prints leading everywhere. They were wild and directionless; impossible to identify where they had gone first or last. The tracks were so random it looked like the intruder was coming in and going out of the same room more than once.

 With caution, he stuck out his neck to check around the corner and into the kitchen. The tile had been soaked with tracks like the carpet and all of his cabinets had been open, but nothing seemed to be missing. Matthew didn’t know who had been at his home or what they had been up to, but he did know they had covered all the house. The kitchen, the living room, the restroom, then the spare room, and worst of them all, his bedroom.

 While in his state of complete shock, Matthew felt as if he hasn’t taken a single breath. Although, certainly, he had but the discomfort and fear that ran through his mind and body was enough to make him forget to keep breathing.

“I-I’m going to call the police!” he shouted still from the front door, acting like the person who invaded his house was still there.

Or maybe she or he was, Matt didn’t know for sure.

(6)

 

Currently, outside’s chill forced shivering upon anyone who stepped out, yet Matt still stood by his doorstep light, awaiting the police. The rain had picked up again, but it still wasn’t back to its original greatness. While he quivered outside with his wet hair and clothes, Matt tried to pinpoint when exactly the intruder broke in.

Was it right after I left?  He didn’t think so. The tracks looked fresh, and that sour stench was potent by the time he got home. More than likely, he assumed they broke in a little before he decided to leave Devin’s, around ten.

 Then that thought hatched another. When did they leave? Right before I walked in? If they did leave that is.

 Headlights from down the street stole his attention, hoping it was the police since the cold was becoming unbearable after twenty minutes of waiting. When the car drove farther down Wisconsin Ave, he saw the Vincent police sticker on the side. Matt was curious to why they didn’t have their lights on at first, but he quickly decided they didn’t want to disturb the peace. He was just grateful they had finally arrived.

 The police car parked on the street right in front of the duplex and two officers stepped out. The driver was a tall and thin woman and from the passenger side was a stocky man who was shorter than his partner. Not wasting anytime, they rushed to Matt and out of the rain and away from their white squad car.

 “Mr. Ferguson?”  the female officer called, approaching him.

“Y-Yes that’s me.” He shivered, either from the cold or from the reason the police were at his house in the first place.

“This is Officer Rhodes and I’m Officer Jen,” she introduced. Rhodes extended his hand and a smile; officer Jen did neither. Matt ignored her and took Rhode’s hand, then shook it. “You believe someone broke into your place?” Rhodes asked as he released Matt’s hand.

Before he answered, Matt noticed Officer Jen was seemingly examining him. She had this certain cramp on her face that could only be described as a judging expression.

“I know someone broke in.” Matt wiped his nose. The cold was really starting to get to him at this point. “Here, come inside, it’d be easier to explain if I just show you.” He led the officers into his home that still smelt like it was just a giant porta potty. Instantly, the two officers reacted to the smell by the look on their faces and then they saw the foot tracks.

“I don’t know what the smell is, it wasn’t there before I left which was around six,” Matt noted. “Same with the footsteps, obviously.”

 Rhodes stood with his hands on his hips while he looked all around the living room floor. “It could be a gas leak; we’ll call the fire department to send someone down here so they can check the levels.”

“Where did you go tonight, Mr. Ferguson?” Jen chimed in, almost interrupting Rhodes.

Thrown off by her question, Matt gave her a confused look before he answered. “I went to a friend’s house just down the street here.” He pointed toward Devin’s.

“Hm, did you have some Friday night drinks?”

The confusion thickened then he became slightly angry. “As a matter of fact, I did, but what does that have to do with anything?”

“Just seeing what the night was like, sir,” Rhodes quickly said in a much sweeter tone than his partners questioning. “Did they take anything?”

“No” Matt shook his head. “I don’t believe so, but I haven’t really checked.” 

 While the two men in the house conversed about the break in, the dominant officer bent down to get a more defined look at the tracks. Rhodes had his notepad handy and was taking notes from what Matt was stating about the break in. “How much of the house did they cover?” Rhodes asked with pen in hand. In an aggravated fashion, Matt brushed his hair back and let out a deep breath. “I think all of it, but again, I’m not sure, I haven’t checked the whole house.” Rhodes nodded and continued with his questioning. “Do you know anybody who could have do–”

“These tracks are barefoot,” Jen interrupted from the floor.

“Huh?” Both men replied.

“These tracks, all of them, they look barefoot.” She stood back up to her tall height. “You mentioned you hadn’t searched the whole place. Why is that? Do you think they are still here?”

 Hearing that question out loud made Matt go pale. Now that exact idea that floated in his head seemed more real than he ever wanted it to be. “I mean, I don’t know.”

In that precise moment, Officer Jen got even more serious. She took off down Matt’s hallway and cautiously checked the open doors. First, Jen approached the open bathroom and wasn’t shocked to find water all over the tile. It splashed mildly when she stepped in, but besides the water, everything seemed to be fine.

Without much dialogue, she left the bathroom and continued on to the spare bedroom with Matt and Rhodes trailing behind her. The spare room probably had the least number of tracks. Jen and Rhodes didn’t vocalize it, but they assumed the intruder spent less time there because the room didn’t have much in it.

“When exactly did you move to Vincent?” Rhodes asked.

“Just about a year ago. I’m from Missouri.”

“Any family up here?” Jen interrupted like usual.

“No. You could say I moved up here just to get away from everyone.”

“Hm, okay.” She turned to her partner. “Well, while I’m checking Mr. Ferguson’s room, you should go get ahold of the fire department so they can check for a leak.

“10-4, boss,” he replied then went back out the door.

Like the spare room’s door and the bathroom door before it, Matt’s bedroom door was wide open. Though, unlike the spare room, this room had triple the amount of footprints. The sight made Matt’s body run hot once more, he could feel a cool drop of nervous sweat trickle down one of his arm pits. Also, to make things more nerve racking, his room was by far the worst smelling. It was as if his bedroom was where the foul urine stench was coming from. In attempt to escape the smell, Matt turned to leave the hall but he was stopped when officer Jen inquired something.

“Mr. Ferguson, how much have you had to drink tonight?”

 Immediately after hearing her question, he felt incredibly frustrated with the officer. Rather than ignoring her again and just heading out the door, he turned around and answered. “Officer, what does that have to do with anything?”

“With all due respect, it may have to do with everything.”

“I had a couple of beers, that’s all,” he answered, leaving out his shots of whisky.

“Uh-huh, we-”

“Why do you keep asking about the drinks I had earlier tonight?”

Jen could easily see Matt had become angry and for the first time since her arrival, she went for a sweeter tone. “Mr. Ferguson, I’m not accusing you of anything, okay?” She got closer to him, nearly face to face. “But you have been drinking all night, I’m not sure if you were just drinking beer or not but I could tell as soon as we approached you tonight.”

 “What the hell are you saying?”

Officer Jen stood eye to eye with Matt, which was unusual to him since she was a woman, and he was a little over six foot. She hadn’t said a word yet but the way her eyes looked at him and looked at the wet steps all over the floor then back at him said it all.

 “You think I did all of this?”

 “Mr. Fergu-“

“Are you kidding me?” Matt turned his back to the female officer and brushed his hair back again in that aggravated way. Whenever he turned back around to face her, Matt had a grin on his face, like he was humored by her accusation.  “So, what you’re saying is that during my drinking at my friend’s house, I ran out into the storm, drunk, and walked into my house soaking wet and made this mess? Oh, yeah, I must have taken my shoes off before entering, huh?”

“Sir, calm down. I’m just saying people have done stranger things while under the influence and at this point, if it was you that did this, then that’s the best-case scenario,” Jen snapped back at him.

His face was red from how flustered he was with her accusing, but he kept giggling like it were some sort of joke. He couldn’t believe what his night had transformed into and now he found himself wishing he would have stayed home instead of going out after work.

 “If it was me, then why would I call the police?”

Jen shrugged “Maybe you forgot, people tend to do that while drinking. Like I said, stranger things have happened.”

 “I didn’t have tha-”

Just then officer Rhodes barged in from the cold storm and came between Jen and Matt’s dispute. “The fire department is on the way,” he announced as he wiped the rain drops off his bald head. “Did you check the place good?”

 Before answering Officer Rhodes, Jen was still staring at Matt with her accusing eyes. Instead of staring back at her or giving her a piece of his mind, he went outside in a pissed off fashion. “Not yet, I’ll keep searching and see if I can find anything. But I doubt it…”

(7)

 

Two men from the fire department arrived at the Ferguson residence around midnight and then left within twenty-five minutes. There was no sign of a gas leak, and the strange aroma remained a mystery, just like the foot tracks discovered with it.

 Matthew sat on his sofa with his head resting in his hands, frustrated and demented as well as tired and perhaps still a little drunk. Rhodes and Jen were still present at the house. Both appeared almost as tired as Matt. Rhodes sat on a recliner across from the resting victim and the once accusing Officer Jen stood with her back against a wall near the front door.

 “Mr. Ferguson,” she called as she pushed her back off the wall. Her call jolted Matt awake.

 “Yes?”

 “I believe we have done all that we can tonight,” she said walking toward him. Rhodes quickly got to his feet, seeming very eager to leave. “We are going to head out now. There is no sign of gas, and the intruder is long gone but we’re still sorry for your troubles.”

 “Wait, so that’s it?” Matt questioned while putting his hands up. “Are you guys going to find this person? Will I hear from you again about this? Or are you gu–”

 “Sir, we’ve done all we can. They’re gone.” Rhodes surprisingly interrupted. It appeared to Matt that Rhodes had left his side due to the stress and length of the night. 

 “He’s right. We’ve checked the house thoroughly and there’s nothing but these damp footsteps and that awful smell. And both will fade in time.” They both stood above Matt in their matching navy-blue uniforms and looked down on him as Jen continued. “Maybe light some candles for the smell and I’m sure it’ll go away. You’ll be just fine. Like we said, we’ve checked this place in fine detail. Outside, all the rooms, the closets, under the bed, everywhere. There’s no monsters here, Mr. Ferguson.”

 That monster line slowly made Matt’s head rise, and a grin formed on his face. “No monsters, huh?” he scoffed. “That’s great.”

 Both officers headed for the door, but Rhodes stopped before exiting and mentioned something else in attempt to comfort Matt. “We’ll keep a squad car by if it makes you feel any better. Sleep tight, sir.” 

Then they went out and into the cold and to their car. Matt found the energy to get up once they left and shut the door behind them, locking the top and bottom lock after. He thought back to the last thing Rhodes said about putting a squad car close by and realized he didn’t believe what the officer had said. But the police were convinced the rest of the night would be safe, and Matt began to believe it would be best if he convinced himself of that too.

(8)

 

By 1:20 AM a red berry candle had been burning in Matthew’s room for about an hour and not only did the storm return to its original wrath, but much greater than before. The lightening, pouring rain, and all. However, there was still no thunder.

 The foul smell still lingered in the house but as far as the bedroom with the candle went, it was back to normal. Fortunately, some of the less soaked foot tracks had dried in the spare room and most of the ones in the living room had as well. Unfortunately, the ones in the now red berry smelling room still had more than a dozen tracks.

 To speed up the process, he laid just about all his towels on the wet spots of his bathroom, kitchen, and bedroom. Once he finished laying towels, Matt felt that sleep was well deserved, since this was the first opportunity he’s had gotten since Devin went to bed hours ago. Matt wondered if he was going to mention the nights strange events when he saw Devin. Without a lot of thinking on the idea, he concluded that of course he was. He’ll probably tell anybody with a working set of ears. 

 As soon as he finished brushing his teeth and got rid of the taste of the liquor he once drank when the night was still youthful and not yet dreadful, he went straight to his bedroom with the hope of falling fast asleep. Notwithstanding that his mind was on edge from the night’s curious findings and that he couldn’t help but let his thoughts wonder.

 A fan at full blast while sleeping is an essential to many and that included Matt. He turned its round knob and the constant roar of the fan started. His bedroom on this night was only lit by a lamp and the candle, both on a nightstand on the right of his bed and he intended to keep a light on for the rest of the night. Also on the nightstand, was the candle lighter he used to light the wick. Finding a lighter around his house wasn’t easy since he quit smoking in his late twenties. Though, with what the night had put on his shoulders, a cigarette sounded perfect now. Despite the police’s belief and no matter how hard he tried to convince himself, the house still didn’t feel safe, especially not safe enough to be in the dark alone.

 The bed was warm, but Matt’s body shivered as if he were outside in the cold storm. Just knowing someone came into his home uninvited and unwanted, particularly when he wasn’t home chilled his bones more than Colorado weather ever could. Having said that, it was the unusual findings that troubled him the most.

 Why did they take off their shoes? Or were they shoeless from the start?

What exactly was that smell?

Why didn’t they steal anything?

Why did they pick this house?

 But even with those paranoid thoughts running a marathon in his head, laying in his bed was easily the most relaxed Matt had felt tonight. To soothe him, he focused on the continuous pouring rain and the humming of the fan. He could feel himself drifting away, and slowly but surely the nerve-racking ideas blew away like loose gravel during high winds.

 Moments before falling asleep, he remembered the active candle by his bed and thought it would be best if he put it out. The last thing he wanted was the fire department and the police returning over a lit candle accident.

 When the flame was out, he sank back into his bed and continued to fade. And then, unexpectedly, with his eyes closed and sleep within his grasp, the fan slowed down and eventually stopped.

 Matt opened his eyes and saw the lamp had been shut off as well. It was obvious the power was out due to the storm. Without the pouring rain and the rapid lightening, the room would have been entirely dark and silent. The power out didn’t surprise him in the slightest, given the storms aggression. There was nothing he could really do about it either and he was already so close to sleep he might as well just continue. The power would come back on by itself anyhow, fan and lamp included. So, he shut his eyes once more, but it wasn’t long until he opened them again when he heard an off-putting sound that made him instantly sweat.

 It wasn’t a certainty, but to Matt it sounded like something was breathing and wheezing in the room with him.

 His eye lids burst open and the second they did, a sudden flash of lightning struck and what he saw during that brief flash forced him to sit straight up and clench his comforter.

Someone was standing in the corner.

 All he wanted to do was doubt himself and what he was experiencing. Mentally praying what he witnessed and what he was hearing was strictly his imagination. He didn’t want to entertain the idea or possibility that the intruder really was still in the house Matt denied and denied, until yet another flash of lightening came through the window and convinced him otherwise. The intruder was there. But closer than before.

 It was all too real. He could really hear the breathing mixed with wheezing. He could really see someone else in the room with him, but not who. The lightening’s flash was too quick.

 Already covered in sweat produced by raw fear, he rolled out of bed and mistakenly bumped something off the nightstand. His heart beat felt faster than the pace the rain fell outside, and on the verge of tears, he screamed. “Who’s there!”

 Similar to when he called out earlier, there was no response. More lightening illuminated the room for milliseconds each time it struck and every time it did, the intruder was closer, cornering him. As the intruder approached closer, it appeared to be a man, a bald man the height of Matt. He was confined in his pitch-black bedroom with the man who broke into his home and absolute panic was starting to settle in.

 He took a step back, then put his hands up, waiting for contact or a clear visual but when another flash came, he saw nothing. Befuddled, he stepped forward and felt something cold, hard, and slim underneath his bare feet. It was the lighter.

 As fast as his quivering body would allow, he retrieved the long lighter from the floor and sparked its flame, on his last hope he got worked up for nothing and there really wasn’t anybody there.

 The bald man was there though.

 He was so pale it was uncanny, and he also wasn’t just in the room but right on the other side of the flame, no more than a foot way. Face to face, the stench had come back and worse than ever, it easily would make someone sick, but Matt was too mesmerized to vomit or scream.

 Nude, visibly drenched, and dripping, and as if he were frightened of Matt, he screamed violently. He had no eyebrows or eye lashes and no eye color. Just a black dot in the center. They looked like eyes that belonged to a rat. His face was round and had little to no neck. There was nothing specific to his body, no gentiles, nipples, wrinkles, or anything else personal, like he was made out of clay then smoothed out completely. While he screamed, Matt saw he had no teeth, only the blackest gums. 

 Exactly as Matt began to scream back, the pale man-like thing’s scream formed into a wild laughter while he stood on the other side of the lighter’s flame, staring at him with those beady eyes.

 Then just as fast as the power went out, it came back on, and the laughter and the “man” was gone. Vanished with the dark when the light returned. Gone with only a pair of wet foot marks and the horrible stench left behind. Matthew Ferguson stayed standing in the same spot across the foot tracks, trying to process what he had just seen when finally, the thunder crashed.