Obsidian Shards: Afro-Horror Tales

Better Wait

Author's Note:

I've always loved the old folktales of our people. I find them so witty and imaginative and fun. And some, I find creepy. But what's the boundary between creepy and horrific, I wonder? Is it an element of reality? Is it an element of the fantastic? Perhaps it's both. In an attempt to answer that question, I try and craft a world with both reality and the unreal ever-present. I hope you all enjoy it.

It was dark that night. I remember that much. I think it was raining, too. This is important, because either one or both of these things led to my car crash. I'm not sure which. I don't remember what I hit, but I specifically remember being at the side of my car, trying to use the phone. I don't remember why I was unsuccessful, either my phone was dead, or I couldn't find a signal. It's all so important, why don't I remember it?

I'm sorry, most of this story is a bit fuzzy. I think I hit my head at one point. I think I hit my head. I can feel the pain and hear a faint hum even now, even though it's been hours – I think it's been hours – since the injury. Maybe I'm concussed? Anyway, if this story is confusing, I apologize.

So, I was standing next to the car, yeah? And all of a sudden, my body just felt stuck. Like a deer in headlights, almost. I looked ahead, not towards the actual road, but instead I looked at the woods I was near. There was nothing there. No, really, there was nothing there. It was so dark, that I couldn't see anything, not even the trees. Sorry, what? Yes, I know I should see the forest for the trees, but no I don't find that funny at all. You don't get it, sir, you really don't.

It all was just so dark. I was looking into the woods, but I didn't see anything. My mind was racing with possibilities of what dangers could lie beyond. See, the darkness knew it was hiding something. I could feel deep within my soul that there was a sinister secret hidden behind every shadow in front of me, and the shadows were hiding that secret intentionally. It fucking knew! I'm sorry, but I won't calm down, you don't know what it was like. I was sitting there gazing into the woods, and I knew that I was in danger. I watch these nature shows all the time, and they always show these gazelle or zebras grazing, but then a lion or a snake sets their sights on them, and they all know that they're in danger. They can't see the danger, but it's like, for one moment, they know not to trust the ground they're walking on. Call it instinct or something deeper and more spiritual if you want. We've all been graced with the ability to sense danger, and tonight my danger senses were going off everywhere I turned.

The darkness was intentionally hiding something; I was sure of that. It unnerved me to stare into its inky blackness, knowing that it was attempting to draw me in and trap me in its tendrils forever. Even though I tried to ignore the darkness, I was certain that there was a malevolent being behind it, I could sense it.

I did what any rational person would have done, and I ran. Wait, did I run? I mean, I think I did. All I know is that, one moment I was transfixed by the darkness in front of me, the next moment I was in front of a house, struggling for air to enter my lungs.

I can say that it was old. I have no idea how old, but I wouldn't have been surprised if it was the first house built in this state. It was made of broken, rotting wood that didn't appear to be capable of holding anyone without crumbling. The windows were long and cracked, with mud and mildew making it impossible to see inside. The wind blew, and the house gave off a great moan, almost like a scream of agony. That house, like the darkness, was alive.

I was going to leave, not because I didn't think there was anyone home, but because I knew that the house was evil. I knew that if I went into the house, something horribly unimaginable would happen to me. I was right, wasn't I? You saw what was in the basement. You can't blame me for..