The Stalker in the Dark

[Start of audio recording]

I never should have done it. No, I shouldn't have. It is in my head day in and day out, whether it will get me, will I outsmart it, whether it is better to just lay down and let it take me. NO! NO!, you see, it is in my head now, to ease it's hunt, so it can just end it.

(Uncontrollable Laughter)

You see, even it is getting tired of hunting, its no longer fun anymore! I may win this struggle yet! But let me calm done, so I can tell you what happened in its entirety:

I was sick, so very sick. A wasting disease it was. The doctors, with all of their equipment, couldn't find the reason why I was sick. I went home that day, so that I could die in peace, at my home. See, money does has it's benefits, though you probably know that. All I had to do is bribe the doctor, and he let me leave by myself. I had to leave by myself, so I was alone for what I thought I would have to do, for a plan was already forming in my mind.

Alone, at home, I scoured my library, looking for that obscure book that I acquired a few years ago, an ancient text, written in the 1300's, a grimoire on summoning angels. I had acquired it in passing, it having arrived with other books of my interest. In there was one, in fact, the only one that I notably remember, named Tahardiel, the angel of purity. I hoped to summon him and bargain for him to release me of my sickness, make me pure again. I found the book at the back of the chamber and dusted it off, subsequently opening the book to find the page I needed.

It took days to get everything ready.After going through the cleasing period, and doing the other pre-summoning rituals, I gathered the required salts and ungents and placed them in a secluded room in the basement, which was little more than four slabs of concrete mortared together. With all preparations done, I chanted the required words, proceeding through the ritual detailed in the tome.

As the summoning reached its climax, I uttered the last few words, and waited. At first, nothing, not a hint of success. But then, smoke curled up from the binding circle, increasing in intensity with every passing second. The smoke filled the binding circle but did not extend past those lines, proof at least that the circle worked. A humanoid figure started to shine through, dim at first, but then brilliant, breaking through the smoke. I could make out only a hint of the figure through the tumult of the light, but even with that it was so beautiful, so glorious, I wept.

In the midst of my sobs I did not notice the crack in the ethereal walls of circle, or the wisps of fog (It was too clean to call smoke) emanating from it, I was completely enveloped in a lament of my abasement that was elicited by the vision of this empyrean being. Suddenly there was an explosion of force, the walls of binding sundered by this being, and I was smashed against the wall, becoming comatose.

I woke up an indefinite time later, groggily, my body in pain, paralyzed at first. But I could tell that the pain was fleeing my body. Soon I was able to stand, and I walked upstairs, entering my bathroom to wash myself and figure out what had occurred. It was only when I was almost done that I noticed myself, really noticed myself, in the mirror. The rings around my eyes were gone, I looked hearty and hale, better than I have been in months.

I prepared myself a hearty breakfast, the best I have experienced in awhile. Cozying up on my favorite armchair in the library, I read many novels, for purely a sentimental enjoyment, passing the time before I was to resume the reigns of my business from my appointed successor the next day. Hours later I fell into a sleep, still swallowed in the chair, a tear of relief about the past events sliding down my cheek.
****
For the next few weeks, everything was normal. When I read through the newpaper I was confronted with the same old news: Stocks fluctuating, series of unexplained murders, the Pound looking for a person to adopt a "special" dog, so on and so forth.

But then...things started to happen. I was walking to my car, the florescent lights flickering on and off on the bottom floor of the car park, as normal, there having always been a problem with the wiring on this level. They cast off a purplish light, generating odd shadows off of the pillars. The level was bare of other cars, most having already left as I figured a way to cut costs. I was successful, and exhausted, I decided to get some rest.

I...I heard a noise, I brushed it off. I perceived it again. My feet starting working faster, without any conscious effort, almost an instinct. Arriving at my car, I hurriedly took out my keys from my pocket, trying to shove the keys into the lock. The sound had not stopped. It was like a slinking, accompanied by rattling gasps of air. It echoed throughout the area, but I did not see the origin of the sound, there was no change of color, only the grey of the concrete. The sound was from everywhere, and nowhere.

The keys in the lock, a nigh impossible deed due to my shaking hands, I turned it and jumped into my car. I pulled the keys from the lock, again fumbling with them. The emanations of sound grew more audible as I had the keys in the ignition, firing up the car and rocketing away from the place. I saw nothing as I left.

I was afraid to go to work the next day, for fear that it would happen again. But I steeled my will, and forced myself to go, for my business was my livelihood. I left earlier than usual that day, leaving with the rest of my employees, to lessen the chance of the appearance of the thing, whatever it was. The sun was going down, brilliant and fiery, the hot and humid summer day giving way to a warm, humid night; I had parked on a higher level, avoiding the basement.

Then suddenly, a darkness fell upon the level, muting the sunset, leaving only a dull orange glow, like a dying fire. The noises started again, slow rattling breaths. The slinking noise was there as well, followed by crunching. It was louder this time, like it was closer, yet there were only cars and uniformed drones of the workforce in sight. Then suddenly, the noises stopped, instead replaced by the loud honking of a car. The shadow that covered my vision was lifted, the vibrancy of the the sunset coming back. I jumped out of the way, my back hitting against a wall. I breathed a sigh of relief, happy to be alive.

Thing....similar happened over the next week. A shape in the corner of my eye, a misplaced sound. It made me think I was mad, MAD!

It turns out that it was only taunting me.

The next week the sky opened, the rain pouring down, the clouds grey, bulbous giants wallowing in the sky, venting their fury upon the world broken with protrusions, towers of steel and glass that pierced into the air.

I was walking home in this downpour. The heat, the anger produced from the fashioning of metal into different forms, of carving in the earth, of road burning with automotives, created a steam, raising into the air from all areas, slowly swirling up. The streets ran with black, the grime washing down from the buildings, from where it would pool on the walkways and streets.

Shadows, shadows, all became shadows. I ran, my heart racing, the shadows just a prelude to whatever awaited me. It had grown bored. It wouldn't reveal itself, not yet, it was too smart. I ran, and found myself deserted, away from people, witnesses. It was a decrepit place, rust, layered in rust. An abandoned construction site. It was as if everyone just left, leaving everything unfinished. This was it, I guess.

And there it was, the shadows having never stopped. A brilliant light came around the corner,movements visible within. The light was enchanting, uplifting, sterile. A damning light, hellish. Empty, unearthly. It was perfect, soulless. And it described it's originator perfectly. Marble, perfect stone. Proportioned exact. Beautiful, horrifying to behold. It was Tarhardiel. Pure. And nothing else was.

It propelled itself towards me, walking too ugly of a word. I ran, knowing it was futile. I had to get to a populated place. I twisted through a labyrinth of alleyways, damp, fetid stone, reeking of decay, the bricks as rust colored as the construction site. It followed me all the while. I could FEEL the light, probing, seemingly an extension of Purity's will.

I encountered a homeless person, hobbling in the alleyway, seemingly drunk. A push, and I was past, leaving him to the predations of this monster. No time to look back.

Eventually, there I was, into the plaza, with it's stone fountain in the middle, surrounded by steps, twisiting, writhing bodies, but most people couldn't see it. I myself only perceived it this way this time. It wouldn't dare come here, with so many people.

Everything plunged into darkness. The overcast light came back, and it was then that the screaming started. I was on my knees, having stumbled out of the alleyway, and here, now, there was a battered and bloody corpse, twisted beyond recognition, in front of me, on the concrete. The bastard.

And here I am, telling you this truth. Whether you take it or not is up to you. Go back and look, if you want to, across this plaza, to the site you found me. Use your forensic expertise. I didn't kill this man. You see-

[Gunshots. Screaming]

HE'S HERE!! YES!! YEESS!! It's HERE.

HAHAHAHHAHA

DONE WITH HIS GAME, Is he?

Is that smoke I smell?

[Ripples of noise, pulsing waves. Gurgles]

So, here to kill me, aren't you?

[Silence]

There are only devils, aren't there?

[Silence.]

So, you're Purity?

[Scream, ends abrubtly]

[Sounds of fire]

[End Audio Recording]