The Monsters On My Street
Why did we move to that house?! The answer comes to me almost immediately. It was cheap. We found this large old Victorian house that doubled as our work office; it was in a small-town set atop a vacuous and deep ravine. I remember it so clearly. There was this mysterious nature and look to the ravine, with its ancient trees and paths that lead deeper and deeper, deep into the underbrush where finally not only my probing eyes but sunlight itself couldn’t reach. The leaves at the topmost parts of the ravine shimmered, however, as the breeze moved them like waves in the sunlight. A slight hiss reached our ears from the rustling of their movement as we pulled the moving truck in. Our street itself coiled around the top of the ravine in a sort of embrace of nature and modern life. There was this peaceful aura emanating from the ravine. Our sign hung from an old-fashioned hook hanging from the outside wall of our new house, “Slim and Joe.” I always hated that his name was first. “Mine is more unique,” he had said. “It will draw in more customers than yours would if it were first.” He smiled at me, and I gave in to his preposition.
My eyes wandered up the street as we took a break from moving. It was certainly busy. People were mowing their lawns and having BBQs. The smell of grilled meat was very inviting. One of our neighbors, a large man in a Hawaiian shirt, paused his grilling to come over and ask if we would like to join him. We had to decline, unfortunately, as the moving and unpacking couldn’t do itself. We hadn’t been able to afford movers, so it was just me and Slim. “I could help if you’d like?” he said. But we explained that we didn’t want to impose. He made sure that we were sure before returning to his grill.
Later that night, I awoke to a sound like that of many footsteps through my open window. The light of the full moon hurt my eyes a bit as I squinted. At that moment, my laziness overcame my better judgment, and I simply returned to bed. What a mistake! I would have known then and there what was wrong on this street had I simply walked to the window. In the morning, I talked with Slim; he wasn’t looking too good. He said he didn’t sleep well, I asked if it was because of the footsteps, and he said he didn’t know what I was talking about. So, I shrugged and assumed it was all just a dream.
Months passed, and our business did well, but Slim began to seem increasingly unwell. He had been spending most of his free time with the neighbors. Finally, I pressed him on what was up with him. He said he hadn’t slept for weeks. I was shocked! I knew he wasn’t doing well, but the scope of this issue had escaped me. I couldn’t understand how he hadn’t slept for such a long time. It’s the neighbors…. No! I couldn't blame them, right? Slim must just be going a little harder partying than he should. I told him he needed to take a break from the neighbors and get some rest. This type of a break would be required on and off until we came to the first anniversary of moving to the house.
We had a little party with some neighbors that day that Slim had gotten to know quite well. I had always remained pretty reserved during our stay. For some reason, I always picked up some weird vibe from our neighbors. I just never fully understood why until too late. That night after Slim and I retired to our separate bedrooms, I heard that sound of footsteps again. I awoke, and the room was bathed in full moonlight. I had never imagined it would happen again, though I had pondered the significance of the dream many times over the year and even mentioned it to Slim, only to receive his teases. This time though, I got up and looked out the window. What I saw was concerning. Many figures cloaked in black, some of which were holding large torches, were making their way into the ravine.
I went to find Slim; he had teased me about this dream and my concerns for the past year, so I wanted him to see the proof that was unfolding outside. The door to his room was open, and he was nowhere to be found; I tore through the house saying things like “this isn’t funny!” and “come on, man!” After a while, I realized that Slim's disappearance must have something to do with those cloaked figures. I got into clothes more appropriate for an excursion through the ravine. I still have never seen the bottom of it… The light never touched that far. Yet now I was running, frantically trying to catch sight of one of the cloaked figures that had a torch with them. After running for what seemed like forever, I finally spied one in the distance. I slowed my pace and crept up behind them, far enough away that I shouldn’t be noticed. I followed closely as I dared; slowly, we crept deeper and deeper into the ravine.
Slim woke me up; the sun was blazing in the sky. “I was sleeping, you know.” “Sleep is for chumps.” He said, “How will you ever accomplish anything sleeping so much? We are supposed to be private investigators.” He was always more concerned about money and work than sleep. It just had never seemed out of the ordinary to me while we had been working the beat together. Or up late researching… heck, I pulled some myself. Just when he started not coming home from the neighbors before I went to bed, that’s when…
I was thinking too much! I had lost track of the cloaked figure with the torch. Panicking in the dark, I searched for any form of light. I must have left my phone at home when I changed clothes! And the moon was obscured by clouds! I heard footsteps come toward me. It appeared I was surrounded; I heard cloaks fall to the ground and a muffled sound like someone trying to scream but they couldn’t. Something brushed up against me. I sensed something akin to large fish scales. Much larger than any fish I could imagine, however. Maybe it was a snake scale? What snakes walk upright on two legs?“This must be a trick? “I remember thinking briefly, but I was too scared to say anything. I had begun to shake violently. No doubt it was obvious even in the dark.
The dark, for a moment, I was glad it was there. To die without a knowledge of what beast will orchestrate my demise was a gift I would take on this day. That was not the case, however, as the clouds began to move and light began to fill the once unseen part of the valley. I looked to the ground and saw Slim. His skin was grey, and his eyes glazed over. He stared blankly at the moon. As I looked up towards my executioners, my very mind began to evaporate as I fell terror-stricken; their very bodies defied conception, their eyes defied perception, and though I felt I sensed the feeling of a fish or snake scale, I was far from correct on my estimation. All my eyes could truly discern was that whatever it was looked like it was wearing a Hawaiian shirt.
