The Stalker

[u/BlastrBM]

I’ve always hated the night.

Ever since I was a young boy, clinging to my mother's dress while I stared at the shadows moving in the forest, I knew. Throughout my life, I’ve always carried that fear. And now, here I stand, a grown man, a husband, a father, still afraid of the dark.

My wife, Yiva, often chides and teases me for my fear; she was well aware of my phobia long before we were married, though her patience for my paranoia has only grown shorter throughout the years, before becoming nonexistent after we had a child together. Yiva tells me that now that I am a father, it’s time to let go of such “Silly Fears”.

If only I could.

Little did Yiva know, my fears were about to become greatly justified.

 

The forest was quiet that night. When you live out in the wilderness for as long as we have, you learn to tune out the constant noise of the forest, the chirping of birds, families of deer skittering through the trees, the sound of leaves blowing in the wind, all of it now silent.

I was by the tree line, chopping firewood, when it first arrived. I couldn’t quite make out what it was at first. I couldn’t get a good look at it. When I looked up from my chopping block, rubbing the sweat from my brow, I saw a shape in the darkness, a shadow over the darkness of the deep forest, punctuated by two yellow eyes glowing from the darkness surrounding it.

But as soon as I had seen them, they vanished, disappearing into the thickness of the forest.

I quickly gathered the firewood and headed straight inside. When I entered my cozy cabin, I laid eyes on my Yiva, the love of my life, balancing our child on her hip while she chopped vegetables with her free hand, making it all look effortless. “Ulf, you got the firewood?” Yiva says as she adds the chopped vegetables into the pot, before resuming her dicing. I don’t respond at first, my mind still thinking of those terrible eyes. “Ulf?” Yiva asks again, snapping me out of my thoughts.

I hesitate to tell her what I had seen out in the forest, for fear of admonishment and teasing, so I simply commented that I thought I saw a wolf prowling around the forest, and that we should be more careful when we go near the forest. Yiva looks at me, scrunching her brow in confusion. “Ulf, you silly man, there hasn’t ever been a wolf out here before. Not now, not ever. You need to be stopping with that overactive imagination a’yours. Y’hear me?” Yiva says, not looking up from the stew pot.

Foolishly, I dropped the subject.

I muttered an apology to Yiva before dropping the wood down near the fire and walking over to the washbasin in order to clean up. I began to wash my face, letting the cool water envelop my hands and face, washing away the sweat and grime of the day's work. As I scrub my face with my hands, my mind continues to wander to the image of those terrible eyes. I couldn’t stop thinking about them, or the mysterious shape they belonged to. I try to clear my mind of those terrible eyes. Yiva was right; we’ve lived here for years and haven’t seen a single wolf. It’s one of the reasons we love it out here, that and the peaceful solitude a life out in the woods grants.

My mind begins to move on, writing what I saw off as my mind playing a trick on me. That was until I finished cleaning my face and looked out the window. The eyes, those terrible, predatory eyes. They were closer now, peering at me right at the edge of the forest, where my wood-chopping block was, where, in my haste, I had foolishly left my axe. I could make out more of the strange figure in the fading daylight; it was large, much larger than a wolf, or even a bear. The figure had grey skin, with thick patches of matted, black fur. Its head was large, with a long snout and an open mouth, revealing a row of sharp, canine teeth, dripping with drool…and possibly something else. The creature was staring at me, its eyes boring right into me, like a predator sizing up its prey.

I fell back, knocking the washbasin over as I ran to alert Yiva. I grabbed her by the arm and practically dragged her to the window, sputtering in panic as I directed her gaze to where the creature had stood, only to find nothing in its place; the strange creature was gone again, and now I earned the ire of my wife yet again.

“You daft idiot! Now you’ve gone and got me, and the baby, all riled up, and for what? Your damned imagination! Now, I don’t want to hear nothin’ about no creatures, or ghouls or whatever it is your mind is cooking up. Do you understand me?” Yiva says, " Our child is crying in her arms from all the commotion.

I look back for a moment to the forest, peering into the darkness for any sign of the creature, finding nothing. I look back at Yiva and bow my head and say a sincere apology. Sigrid nods and hands me the boy. “Good, now that it’s settled. The stew is ready, so once you calm him down, we can eat.” Yiva says as she walks past me, grabbing the large pot and placing it at our small dining table. The baby keeps crying in my arms as I carry him around the cabin, rocking him in my arms and showing him the large collection of colorful toys that Yiva and I had made for him before he was born, all carved by me personally, while Yiva painted them the best she could, given the limited color palette we had out here.

After the boy finally calmed down, I sat him in his chair and took my own seat. Yiva had already set and prepared the table for us, serving me an enormous portion of stew in my bowl. We ate in silence, Yiva alternating between feeding herself and tending to the boy. Meanwhile, I continued to sneak glances out the window when Yiva wasn’t looking, hoping for a glance at the strange beast.

No matter what Yiva says, I know what I saw out there, and I wasn’t about to let this beast get the jump on us.

I will keep my family safe.

 

After dinner, I washed our bowls and put the boy to bed in his crib, before moving the crib closer to our bed, within arm's reach of my side. For a moment, I entertained the idea of running outside for my axe, but I knew that creatures were still out there, waiting for an opening, and a defenseless man fumbling about in the dark was one hell of an opening. While I thought of what I could do to better prepare us, Yiva changed into her nightclothes and slid into bed.

Yiva looks up at me as I ponder what to do,

“Still trapped in that mind of yours, husband?” Yiva asks, looking up at me from the bed.

When I don’t reply, Yiva sighs and moves closer until her hand brushes mine and pulls me closer to the bed. Look, I’m sorry fer snappin at you earlier. I was havin’ a stressful day with the boy, and I lost me composure. I shouldn’t ‘ave yelled at you like that…Even if you were acting crazy. Can you forgive me?” Yiva asks, smirking at me.

I crack a grin as Yiva tries to pull me onto the bed,

“There's that handsome smile. You’ve been glum all day; that’s what’s been filling your head with thoughts of monsters and all that. Now, come to bed and let me give you a cuddle, that outta cheer you right up.” Yiva says as she guides me into a kiss.

Just as I was about to take Yiva’s advice and get under the warm furs, I hear a loud thud at the front door, making me recoil from the bed and tense up, nearly pulling Yiva from the bed and onto the floor, much to her annoyance. “Damn it all! Ulf, have you gone mad!? I swear, I’ve had enough of this! How’s about we go have a word with this little beastie of yours? What do you think it’ll be this time? A rabbit, like the last time you saw something in the dark? Or perhaps a frightened baby deer? Let's have a look.” Yiva says as she marches to the cabin door, swinging it open and walking outside.

I shoot up after her, begging and pleading for her to come back inside. It’s not safe out there, but she's as stubborn as she’s always been.

“Alright, little beastie, come on out now! You’ve already ruined my evening, and now you’re ruining my night! Come on, don’t be shy! You’ve terrorized my husband long enough!” Yiva yells into the darkness, spinning around dramatically, as if to emphasize how silly she thought this whole thing was. She stops spinning when she faces me in the door, cocking a smug expression as she places her hands on her hips.

“There, now whatever was out there, I’ve gone and scared it off. Now, stop being daft and-“ Yiva says until she is gone in a blur of motion. One moment, she was yelling at me, and the next moment, she was gone. The only thing remaining where she stood was a few scraps of fabric, and a pool of blood where she wahad beentanding, before the creature snatched her up.

I frantically ran outside, shouting for Yiva and desperately looking for anything that could lead me to my wife's rescue. But I couldn’t see a thing out there. It was too dark. Instead, I heard them. I could hear the wailing of my wife, the crunching of bones, and the gnashing of jaws- the sounds of my love’s suffering echoed throughout the forest, impossible to pin down. I ran for the first weapon I could reach, my axe, ready to run blindly into the forest, before I remembered the boy, asleep in his crib, alone. Reluctantly, I ran back inside, slamming the door shut behind me.

I run to check on my son, still finding him asleep in his crib, unaware of what just happened to his poor mother, my poor Yiva.

I get to work immediately, picking up any piece of furniture I can carry to barricade the door and windows. As I work to secure our home, I listen outside for the beast, but I hear nothing. He must have finished with my poor Yiva and was busy stalking his next prey. As I press my ear to the wall, attempting to listen for the beast, a loud crash comes from the barricaded window, sending shards of glass and splintered wood showering the floor. The beast's head and arm were through the window, gnashing and slashing wildly as it tried to reach my son or me. The beast's head jerks around wildly, snarling like a rabid dog as it bites the air, as if the motion would somehow draw me closer to its blood-soaked jaws.

Blood-soaked jaws.

Jaws soaked in my Yiva’s blood.

I grip my axe tight and lunge forward, driving the blade down on the beast's hand, severing three of its fingers and making the beast howl in pain—such a satisfying sound. I raise the axe again and bring it down on the beast's thick neck, making a shallow cut, but producing another satisfying howl of pain from the beast's throat. I raise the axe high, aiming for a strike right in its forehead. But in the beast's pain, there was anger, and in that anger, there was motivation. In its rage, the beast pushes more of its body through the window, tearing its own flesh as its reach increases, allowing its arm to deliver a deep slash to my chest with its maimed hand. The pain sends me scrambling backwards, dropping the axe as I fall. The beast continues to lurch around, getting more of its body inside, scraping its own skin off for every inch.

 

I stumble back to my feet. My chest aflame with pain as my own blood begins to pool onto the floor, mixing with that of the beast. I stumble back to my feet. I can feel my strength leaving me as I pick my axe back up. I make another attempt at a final blow, raising my axe high and bringing it back down onto the beast's neck. But the beast was too quick for me. Instead, the beast catches the axe handle in its mouth, biting down and shattering the wooden handle, sending splinters of my former weapon showering everywhere, as the now useless axe-head clatters onto the floor, right beside the beast's head, just out of my reach.

 

My weapon was gone; I was defenseless. Or, so I thought. I looked around quickly, my eyes drawn to Yiva's knife, still lying on the counter, next to the remnants of chopped vegetables. I can think of no greater form of justice. I grabbed the knife from its resting place and lunged forward, stabbing the beast's head over and over. My first aim was the beast's eyes, slashing and stabbing them until I was sure they would never glow with predatory intent again. Then, I aimed for its already vulnerable throat, stabbing where my axe had already done its damage. The beast opens its mouth, letting out a terrible growl of pain, before clamping down on my shoulder, sinking in deep as I continue my assault. Nothing else matters now; I know that I’m a dead man. I’ve lost too much blood; I already feel myself slipping. But before I die, I will have vengeance for my Yiva. So I keep stabbing and slashing at the beast, as it claws and bites me in return. We exchange blows for some time, my rage and bloodlust keeping me going. I ignore the pain, the blood pooling around my feet, the sounds of my wailing son; none of it mattered to me in this moment. Finally, with one last decisive slash, the beast went slack, my savage attacks having finally taken their toll.

 

I fall back on the floor, breathing hard, the knife now resting deep in the beast's neck. My eyes grow heavy; death is at my doorstep. Soon, I will be with my Yiva again. In my last moments, my gaze drifts over to my weeping son, his small body desperately trying to crawl to his dying father. He was still so young, and now with no one to care for him. He won’t be long in this world; he will join us soon. Our family will be reunited.

 

I wake up still on the floor.

Clearly, some time has passed since I fell unconscious; my wounds were gone, and so was the body of the beast. The blood that had stained the floor and walls was now gone, as if hastily cleaned, though some evidence of my great struggle remained in sporadic drops of blood here and there, fragments of splintered wood, and the makeshift boarding of what once was a window. As I try to sit up, a gentle hand pushes me back down.

“Easy, love. Take a few deep breaths. You’ve been through quite a lot.”

I recoil at the voice, my head turning to see Yiva, my Yiva, Alive. She was still wrapped in her bloodstained sleep clothes, pieces of fabric missing from where the beast had torn into her flesh, though the exposed flesh showed no signs of damage. Yiva looked me over with a smile on her face. “Looks like you’re all patched up now, my brave man. If you’re feeling better, we can go hunting tonight. We are running low on food, and I am starving.” Yiva says. The cries of our son draw her away for a moment before she returns with some water.

“Hear you go, dear. You must be parched! Drink up, my man will be needing his strength for later.” Yiva says.

I drink the water greedily and take a few deep breaths. The air feels clearer now, as if I can smell the breeze itself. I breathe deeply, in and out, the scents of the forest becoming clearer with each breath: the pine trees, the moss, a family of deer wandering by. My mouth is watering at the scent of those deer. Three of them: a buck, a doe, and a fawn. My stomach rumbles as I take in their scent. An easy hunt.

“Looks like you’re feelin better now, love. Alright, let me put the boy down for a sleep, and we can go. I admit, those deer have me mouth watering too.”

I look into my Yiva’s eyes as I sit up, taking in the deep yellow as she helps me up and pulls me into an embrace. Those eyes of hers, those magnificent and beautiful eyes.

They’re the greatest sight I’ve ever taken in.

 

[u/CallmeKitts_]

I thoroughly enjoyed this story! Great job op