Board Thread:Writer's Workshop/@comment-36530255-20181207204647

Charles stared out the frost tinted window and at the glimmering white snowflakes that floated gracefully down in the black void. They endlessly came and went, unlike the silhouetted figure that simply stood outside Charles’s property and stared back. Charles wood periodically knock at the window to get the figures attention, but it wouldn’t budge. After a while Charles assumed it was some fence post that he never noticed. After all, he had only been living in the log cabin for a week without doing much exploring.

And so, his attention back to the snowflakes. He hummed to the tune the radio sang: Winter Wonderland. A classic that would show itself boldly during the peak of December. It was Charles’s favorite. He then strolled over to the kitchen and poured himself a cup off peppermint tea and then went back to tap his feet to the radio as it began another song.

Unexpectedly however, Charles’s eyes widened at something out the window. His blood ran cold like winters breezy embrace, and his heart stopped. The same figure from before, the one that was presumably a fence post, had now somehow gained a new limb that clutched a sharp object.

Charles’s blinked his eyes dramatically and proceeded to stare out the window. The figure stood at least forty feet away and the snow never seemed to land upon it. It was as if there was some barrier surrounding it. Charles’s swore the snowflakes would simply vanish in midair when they came close to it. At that point Charles was suspicious but not paranoid enough to notify the authorities. He walked over to his bed, reached beneath it, and grabbed a small case. He opened it to reveal a small handgun and a full clip beside it.

He loaded the weapon and looked out the window one last time to confirm the figure was still there, to which it was, and he went outside to investigate the mysterious visitor. He swung the front door open and was greeted with a gust of wind. He squinted as not to get flakes in his eyes and stared out from his porch. To his utter confusion he saw nothing beyond. He reluctantly jogged over to the spot to which he believed he saw the figure. What he saw made him stop dead in his tracks. The snowy ground contained a small bespatter of red liquid that practically soaked beneath.

He rushed back to his log cabin and was in such a panic he almost ran face flat into the mahogany wooden door which unexpectedly closed right in front of him while the wind stuck it. He was shaking violently, using the excuse of the extremely cold weather to expel the fact that in was in a state of great fear.

He walked back and forth, back and forth, across his bedroom. Charles then suddenly remembered the cordless phone residing upon his nightstand. He hurried over, grabbed it, and punched in the numbers 911. He pressed the phone tightly against his right ear, the ringing as he waited for an operator to pick up seemed endless. Finally, a voice came through. As Charles was about to respond the question of what emergency he was in, he abruptly paused. And he stared out the window. It was rather blurry due to the frost, but he managed to make out a dark silhouette of a man, the same figure from before but clearer now. Its outline was made up of a dark jacket and a cap, and the figure appeared to be holding a stake-like object, and at the tip of it dripped a dark liquid. But Charles was no longer afraid, he was guilty. And with his frozen lips he mouthed the words, “I know what you did.”

With that, the figure dematerialized right before his eyes. Charles sat down on his bed, his heart was pounding wildly, he felt like he was going to die of a heart attack. He began to think, he thought of his past decisions, and confronted them with regret. _________________________________________________________________________________ Tom stared out frost tinted window in horror. For the past few days he had seen a man dressed in black. They would stand there ominously and mock him with a cold stare. The torment, it was too much. Tom grabbed the rifle resting above his fireplace and stepped outside and into the winter night. He would no longer stand the perturbing displayed by whoever it was that was standing outside his house. Yet he didn’t seem to recall an enemy he had made, the one who lost his wife due to being ran over by him. It was an accident, yet not to the man’s wife.

And that’s why he questioned Charles after being startled by him when he sprang out from behind a tree. Charles pulled the knife from his pocket and rammed it into Tom’s chest before he could even block the blade with his gun. A final agonizing breath seeped from Toms mouth before he fell onto the ground in a heap. Charles dumped the corpse in a river and drove off to the mountains where he rented a log cabin.

Charles thought his problems were over. He thought he had achieved a breath of fresh air, avenging his deceased wife in a brutal manner. But he didn’t expect such a horrific consequence. He almost considered turning himself in, but he wanted to live the rest of his life freely. But to what would it be worth? He continued to confront himself night after night after night.

But the dark figure kept coming back. 