Night Witch: Part VIII

A short story

Part I | Part II | Part III | Part IV | Part V | Part VI | Part VII | Part VIII | Part IX | Part X

Photo by Fabian Lauer on Unsplash

Endless Night

The flesh of her lids closed over her eyes and then opened again. She tried to blink the black away, but there was no light. No difference open or shut. It was as if she was in deepest ocean. Cave darkness. 

(Blind.)

Her breaths grew large and heavy. With each one, she could feel her expanding ribs press against the tunnel of viny branches around her. The poked into her skin, and the sensation was the only thing that kept the dizzying sparkles that started to appear at the edges of her periphery from overtaking her vision and sweeping her into unconsciousness. 

Breathe.

Hot tears fell onto her hands. They were flat against the cool earth directly beneath her. The only thing to do was move, and there were only two directions to go. Back, and she would give up on finding the dog altogether. She could imagine herself emerging from the woods into daylight. The uniformed men with their questions, heavy guns slung over their shoulders. 

She concentrated on her breath.

In through the nose, hold, and then out through the mouth.

Her heartbeat slowed. She did it again. In less than a minute, her panic had subsided, and she pulled herself forward, inching further into the tunnel. Her head dipped lower as the ceiling closed in tight around her. Any tighter and she wouldn’t be able to move at all. 

She lifted her chin, and looked. There was something there for a second. Her breath caught and she waited. Then, she heard panting. She pulled forward another two inches. 

“Hello?”

The breathing grew louder, and she pulled again. A thorn caught her back and she yelped.

Like a puppy. 

The next move forward tore into her, carving a line of flesh down her spine before catching on her jeans. She pulled again until she heard a snap. She broke loose from it, and lifted her head. The tunnel was wider here. She listened to the heavy panting, ignoring the sensation of warmth soaking into her shirt. 

(It smells you.)

June ignored the voice and moved forward, pulling until she could shift to her hands and knees. Crawling until she could stand hunched over. And then, she was out. She was still as good as blind, and without the strict guide of tunnel surrounding her, she was unsure of which way to go.

“Are you there?”

Her voice came out high pitched. Desperate. The sound of panting had disappeared into the void. She held her hands out and waved them back and forth like a white cane, probing for an object in the darkness. She stepped forward, feeling the earth with her foot carefully before committing her weight to the ground. The toe of her shoe pressed in easily. Mud. She pulled her foot back and wavered, off balance in the darkness. 

She almost fell. Her heart was pumping erratically and her head buzzed, threatening to topple her over again. She sat down in a squat position and put her hands to the ground on either side of her. She moved them back and felt behind her, searching for the wall of brush or earth she had just emerged from, but her hands hit nothing. She stood and turned, waving her arms in front of her as she stepped forward, then to the side. 

She turned to the right and did the same. Her hands didn’t hit branches or earth. They hit nothing but open air. She felt it pool against her hands and rush over as she waved them faster and faster, turning in circles until she was lost. She waited for some sound. The gurgling creek or the dog panting.

I could have imagined that.

Not sleeping could do that to you. Give you hallucinations. She had experienced it on long road trips during college. Imaginary animals from fields darting into the highway. Elongated shadows transforming into people on the sides of the road. 

(Dogs panting in the night.)

She slumped to the ground and pulled her knees against her chest. She wrapped her arms around them in a tight hug. Her forehead rested against her bony kneecaps. Her face felt warm, flushed with hot breath that caught on each inhale. She held it for a minute, listened to the quiet around her.

“God grant me the serenity—"

June finished her prayer with a loud sob. It didn’t echo, just disappeared into the dark around her. The sound made her cry harder.

She was crying so hard that her head started to ache. Crying like she hadn’t since the day the judge told her that her children would no longer be allowed to visit her unsupervised. It was a long time before she looked up and saw that the darkness had faded, and even longer before she registered the buzzing. All of it, the noise and the light, centered around an orb that floated singularly, five feet in front of her.

And beyond that, two flickering eyes lit up in the darkness. She pushed back onto her elbows when she saw it. It was like waking from a nightmare in reverse. The dog was turned facing her. Behind it, she could see a path through a sapling forest. It was huge. Its fur stuck out in every direction. She stood and walked slowly towards it, her hand stretched, willing it to come.

The dog didn’t flinch. The orb hung motionless. Golden light poured out of it, and formed a hallucinogenic halo. June glanced right and left, trying to orient herself, and saw that she was in the same forest she had entered. The treetops had thinned here. The sky opened endlessly above, but it was void of all stars or celestial light. She knew that the sun should be out by now. But the only light here came from the little buzzing ball in front of her.

It moved as she moved, staying just ahead of her as the fireflies had. The dog did not go with it. By the time she reached it, the light was behind the creature, casting its face into darkness. When she touched its head, she could see only shadow. Her hand felt the familiar fur, and all fear left her body. She smiled for the first time that night. Relief flooded her limbs. Her right hand went to the dog’s neck and felt for the chain. It was still there, cold and tight against bare skin. 

She breathed out a sigh, and knelt in front of the dog as she had the first night, when it wandered out of the darkness and onto her porch. Both of them burdened and tired. She went to lay her forehead against his. She let her head fall gently against his coarse fur, then felt something wet. She pulled back and put a hand just below her hairline. Her fingers came away warm. She lowered her hand and stared at her fingertips, rubbing syrupy black between them. 

Her hand went to the dog’s muzzle and she felt. It was a mixture of crusted fur and sticky liquid. She stood up into the light. Her hands opened towards it, and she squinted to see what it was. It wasn’t black, but it was dark. She took a step closer, and the orb moved forward in turn. 

She held her hands to her nostrils and sniffed. The smell of copper and meat filled the air, and her hands started to shake. She rubbed her stained palms, first together, then against her jeans compulsively, stumbling back as she did. Dan’s congealed blood painted against her thighs in swipes like brush strokes.

She turned towards the tunnel to run, but the dog was watching her. Its face was revealed in the light. Dark gore covered its muzzle. Its eyes were silver moons in the orb light reflection. It sniffed the air, and June could feel blood mingle with sweat, then drip down her back. When it opened its mouth, the only sound June could hear was the electric buzzing of flies.