Sudden Silence

1 | The Silence

Peter ran and ran, his legs seeming to fail him, not going fast enough. The darkness behind him followed, engulfing everything in it's path. Peter trips over, twisting his ankle. He tries to get up, but the darkness catches up quickly, swallowing him as he screamed in fright.

***

Peter awakens, shaking his head. The same dream had been repeating since he turned 16, he now thought nothing of it. However, it sent chills down his spine during. He sighed and got up, looking out his window, expecting to see the usual ducks out in the pond. The early sun casts shadows scattered over the yard, the wind visible in the tree's movement. Weird, he thought. They aren't there today. He checks his phone, going to check his social media, but there's no service. Even stranger, the contacts on his phone had all been erased. He shrugs and heads into the kitchen for some breakfast. Usually his mother would be sipping her coffee or making breakfast for another member of the family. Or would she be? Peter couldn't quite remember the mornings before that, but it felt like that's what she would do. However, nobody was there in the kitchen or at the table this morning. 

The feeling of being left alone with nothing is eerie. It creeps up your spine, making you fidget, making you want to make some noise to break the quiet, to move around and get rid of the cold wave that travels up your arms, making your hairs stand on end. It was too much to bare, so Peter rubbed his arms for a minute and started to hum to himself. Breaking into his train of thought, the sound of shattering glass cut through the cold dead air. Startled, he grabs the dustpan and brush, sweeping up the glass shards and disposing of them. The bright sunlight shines through the window, casting shadows of the trees outside on his face. The sun felt good, so he decided it was time to get some Vitamin D.

Peter calls for his dogs, Grey and Zero, both grey-coloured Huskies, but they don't come bounding like usual. In fact, Peter looks inside and out everywhere and cannot find them anywhere. Scratching his head, he checks one last time for a note on the fridge or the table or the counter or anywhere there could possibly be a note he may have missed. None, they had left without warning. Peter gets dressed in an orange T-shirt with blue jeans and heads out, planning to meet up with his friends early and go to the local games store, however as he walked down the street he looked around. There was nowhere near as much activity as there would be, just a lone man sitting on the park bench. Even then, he didn't do much. Being quite an outgoing person, Peter decided to go up and greet the man, as he is unable to recognise him from under his hood and he has to pass him anyway.

The wind rustles the trees, but it isn't cold. The surrounding houses have no lights on inside, some even have the curtains closed. Nothing particularly unusual, except for the lack of life. Odd as it was, it was relieving to see another human. Granted, there was something out of place. The wind that rustles the trees did not seem to affect the one-piece robe the man was wearing. In fact, the folds stayed perfectly still. Even the hood didn't flap around at the front, it was motionless in every where it shouldn't have been.

"Hello sir!" No reply. Peter backtracks "sir...?" The man doesn't even move. Peter, a little worried, pushes up the hood. "oh, no! no! no!" He backs off as he sees the horrible face, half of it missing, a black liquid dripping from the missing side's eye socket, blood covering the half that's still there. "That's... sick..."  trying not to gag, he backs up quickly, flies landing on the dead man's face, drowning in the thick black liquid that never seems to end. He goes to call the police but he still has no service, it doesn't even allow 000, the lines are completely dead.

***

Peter ran. He ran and ran, shouting for anybody's help. There's not a soul in sight. The hard truth hit him like a rock. There was nobody else, nothing else no matter how far his legs took him. Nothing to keep this 17-year-old juvenile company.

Except for the silence.