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Rated: 13+ · Fiction · Horror/Scary · #2151622
A man home alone hears a noise from his bedroom
That particular night started out quite normally. Having just arrived home from grocery shopping I deposited the few bags I had upon the kitchen table and before I put my foodstuffs away, I realized that the morning feeding of the cat had been neglected. I called out “Dinnertime H.P.” as I filled his bowl. After his bowl was full H.P. still had not shown himself. So again I called out slightly louder this time “H.P. It’s time for dinner, get it when it’s fresh” then after about ten seconds the “thump thump thumping” that could only be his hungry trot came echoing from upstairs. Down the stairs and around the corner he walked into his room. As I looked down he glared up with that “Where have you been with my food” look that all cats seem to have.

The master fed I decided that I had better put away my foodstuffs lest I forget. As the last can of soup was placed in the cupboard a low sound came from upstairs as if a heavy person was standing and had shifted weight. But it being an older house, and being in need of numerous repairs it was passed off as just another creak. I began to walk toward the den heading for the bookcase when the sound came again. This time I couldn't just pass it off, there was something in my house that did not belong. There is only one room in the upstairs of my house, the bedroom. Believing it to be an animal that had wandered in through the window above my bed I decided it would be best to either chase said animal back out the window or, failing in that goal, catch the creature and release it back outside. After making a momentary stop in the utility room to grab the burlap bag that I keep for times like this, and another in the den to pick up the hunting knife just in case. I proceeded toward the bedroom. As I entered, H.P. rubbed against my leg. Not wanting whatever was in the room to harm him, I pushed him out of the door and quickly closed it behind me. Scanning across the room I noticed that the single window had indeed been left open, however there was no animal in sight. I did notice a peculiar odor I had not smelled in years, not since my wife dragged me to that New England town. The smell of the sea, of fish that were not quite rotten but not far from it. I searched under the bed and in the closet, and except for a few dust bunnies, nothing could be found. Behind the dresser, I found the copy of Bentley Little's "The Collection" I had believed stolen the week before, but still no sign of any wild animals. Having realized that whatever had made the noise must have left through the window by which it had entered I stuck my head out of the window to look for tracks. As my hands laid on the window I drew them back quickly, a thin layer of slime-covered it. Closer inspection revealed it was the source of the odor. Leaning out the window, being careful not to touch it, looking for what had left the slime. I could hear the splashing in the river of large catfish but sadly the time of night made seeing the ground below impossible. Deciding that all that mattered was that the animal had left I closed the window.

Upon opening the door and stepping out I was greeted with a bite on the ankle from H.P. and a look of “Why do you always leave me out of the fun stuff”. Dropping down to my knees and rubbing him generously behind the ears was all it took for forgiveness. Rising back to my feet I glared at my watch and observed that the hour hand rested just before 9. Seeing as I like to get in at least an hour of reading before I surrender to sleep, I set my course for the den bookcase. Walking through the house with H.P. trotting along behind me, the memory of my late wife Jamie arose in my mind. Why the Lord decided to take such a sweet and beautiful creature from this world I will never know. I plan on asking him in twenty years or so, maybe sooner. Arriving at the case and having my beautiful Jamie still on my mind, I picked her favorite book “Green Comes, And Green Goes”. I settled myself in my favorite reading chair, a simple wooden chair picked up one summer on vacation in Vermont. I began to read, however my mind quickly wandered back to thoughts of Jamie. I began to think about what had taken my Jamie away from me. I sat remembering the day five years before when I discovered her in our bed. She had just returned home from a month-long research trip to the hills of eastern Kentucky, a town called Rock Nest. Curse that damnable place. She was researching for her new book about the folk gods that still lurk in the black holes nestled in America. She told me she wanted to take a nap and half an hour later I found her with an empty bottle of sleeping pills in one hand and a note in the other. All the note said was "Ka-ish waits in his lair for me dreaming.” At the time I did not know what it meant, except that my life had changed forever. I searched through her notes for days trying to make sense of it all. I learned more then I could ever what to know Great Old Ones and Outer Gods. Information about Ka-ish proved to be not as simply found. Only one harshly scribbled note revealed anything. I found a napkin tucked into the back of a notebook, it said only “The hills of Rock Nest worship a creature they call Ka-ish, son of Nyarlathotep. I will speak to the elder tomorrow”

Before long I realized that I had sat there remembering my lovely Jamie for an hour without reading a single page. I closed the book, intending to return it to the case when again the same noise sounded from the bedroom. Being sure that I had closed the window and knowing that H.P. could not have made such a noise, I became a sight nervous. Walking back toward my bedroom once again, having my knife at the ready just in case, I kept hearing the noise. Upon reaching the door I paused a second to steel myself, and then opened the door. The same odor assaulted me, only stronger. Again I searched the room and again found nothing. Checking the window it was still shut tight. I jumped as something hit me in the back of my knee, spinning around ready to gut the foul creature. The face that greeted me was none other than H.P., I had forgotten to shut the door. “Damn it kitty, you trying to give me a heart-attack. If I die, I can't feed you.” it was there that I saw it, I grabbed H.P. and ran out of the room and out of the house. I do not care to return to that house, what I saw that night has seen to that. For on the stand beside the bed sat our wedding photo with a note written in her hand stuck into the frame. Written on the note were these words “Now Ka-ish waits for you”. God save me as I turned to flee the picture winked.
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