Something Was Chasing Me…..

Something Was Chasing Me…..

By Frederick J. Blahnik

 

Something was desperately chasing me yesterday evening through the thick woods behind our house…..

 

I didn’t know what the thing was.  Still don’t.  All I know for certain is I was more scared than a stick of butter lying out in the scorching sun!

Truthfully, I never got a good look at it.  I could hear it more than see it, which isn’t saying a hell of a lot since I never bothered peering backwards to catch a fleeting glimpse of this mysterious creature.  I know that may sound chickenshit and cowardly, but let’s be totally honest here:  Would you?!  If you were being frantically chased by some hideous entity that gave no indication it was slowing down any, let alone coming to a complete stop, would you then halt in your tracks and turn around just so you could snap a picture of the onrushing bastard with your cell phone to have documentation to show your friends??

Didn’t think so…..

But the sound this cryptic thing made—that unrelenting panting and the constant thump-thump-thump pounding of its feet…..I’ll…..I’ll NEVER forget those  noises as long as I live!   The creature just kept coming and coming and COOOOOOOMING after me……

I ventured out in the large dense woods backing our rural homestead late yesterday afternoon.  I was feeling restless stuck inside the house—Real fidgety and stir crazy, y’know what I mean??–and I just wanted to clear my brain of some nagging concerns as well as burn off a few slothful calories before true darkness set in.  Nothing too major, nothing too strenuous, nothing too significant…..nothing too unusual about this everyday experience as I casually set out.

I don’t even remember now how I first discovered I was being followed.  That realization was, rather, more of a sense…..an intuition……a FEELING…..that I was being secretly watched and closely scrutinized.  I didn’t know for sure—true– yet somehow I DID know for sure, and this gut feeling–this intuition of mine–wasn’t just a strong suspicion either.  I flat-out KNEW that somebody or some thing was covertly watching me from a distance.  It must have been one of those sixth senses you hear about in the news quite often, the same inscrutable force a lot of cheap horror movies for Gen Xers are constructed around.

Anyway, so I learned at some point in time that I was being watched, and my heart next commenced pounding like Rosie the Riveter and the palms of my hands felt weird, sweaty…..clammy as all get-out.  And, yes, yes, I know in a situation like that experts say you’re supposed to feign courage and act normal and not project an appearance of being an angst-ridden Nervous Nelly, but who in their right mind can do that?!

Seriously!!!

I was damned near shitting and pissing my pants—both at the same time, y’hear—and then I’m supposed to simultaneously act real cool and collected and like I didn’t have a care in the world?

Didn’t happen…..

NOT EVEN CLOSE!!!!!

Instead, I first started trotting at a fair canter before breaking into a flat-out run—a sprint that would have made Olympic gold medalist Usain Bolt blush with pride, truth be told—and I next proceeded to race back toward home through the ever-darkening woods on a rough trail carved into the hardwood forest.  And that’s when I became plainly aware of the fact that this creature or whatever the damned thing might have been was chasing me.  It was no longer conjecture at this point either; I could easily hear the loudly panting wraith hot on my trail.

And so of course I ran even faster, or so it seemed.  I don’t think I could have been any more scared and physically run any faster than when I initiated my harrowing escape, yet I was still able to easily convince my gullible brain that I was covering more ground in a lesser amount of time.

But it wasn’t’ fast enough…..

No, it wasn’t fuckin’ fast enough!!!

Judging by the spooky panting and heavy footsteps pounding behind me, my pursuer was gaining ground at an alarming rate.  Images of diabolical beasts and, worse yet, deranged serial killers danced in my head and clouded my vision.  Those images kept gaining traction…..and traction…..and more traction…..until they were no longer images at all, but rather flesh-and-blood entities sporting demonic eyes and dagger-sharp teeth or, alternatively, demented psychopaths brandishing gleaming knives who were intent on first torturing before  ghoulishly eviscerating me.

I achieved the well-lit shelter of our yard only nano-seconds before I was absolutely, certifiably, guaranteed positive the ruthless creature was about to pounce on Yours Truly and have its way with me.  THANK GOD, TOO!!!

YES, THANK THANK THANK THANK GOD!!!!!

I couldn’t have been more relieved at that juncture if I had just died and received an ironclad guarantee from St. Peter that I would soon be passing through the gates of Heaven riding atop a majestic white horse.  I staggered not unlike a drunken sailor to the grassy clearing directly in front of our house and collapsed in an exhausted heap on the ground.  I lay there for a fairly long time, too, reliving the utter horror from the preceding three minutes while struggling to catch my breath and slow my ridiculously fast heart rate down to a somewhat sane level.

Rex wandered over to me then, wagging his furry tail and slobbering on my sweating face, just waiting to be petted and scratched on the top of his smiling head.  For a chronically lazy dog who specializes in lounging around our yard ninety nine percent of the day—or to rephrase that just a smidgeon—for the remainder of the time when he isn’t gulping down heaping bowls of expensive dogfood and slurping water from the bowl sitting out in our garage, I had a hard time understanding why his tongue was hanging out and his ribs were gently heaving.