Monster of the Night

The wind moans dismally in the farness, sweeping thick curtains of chilly drenching rain against the windows. It is well past midnight and all is quiet but for the occasional rattling of window panes in their sills and the pitterpatter of rain on rooftops. A sizzle of brilliant radiance precedes a loud roar of thunder.

The brevity of the flash highlights a figure finding its way stealthily across the dark room. You turn restlessly, mumbling incoherently in your sleep. For the third time since the incident, you were again having nightmares.

Lola's death hadn't exactly been your fault but it somewhat seemed you alone bore the brunt of the deed. Lola had again turned down your advances that fateful day and in anger, you'd contacted a group of thugs. You'd sworn to teach her a lesson, a move you'd regretted soon enough. The idea of teaching Lola a lesson had been misinterpreted by the thugs, obviously. Before your very eyes she'd been raped. Her screams, piercing and piteous still rang in your head, driving you barmy.

The thugs had spat on her and continued on their way when they'd had their fill. Lola had staggered to her feet, her clothes messy, tears cascading down her cheeks in uncontrolled streams. She'd looked at you on the other side of the street, her eyes telling tales of unspeakable hurt. Those eyes left you restless now, sleepless even.

She'd staggered on her way and you'd watched her go, too dazed to speak or move. You hadn't anticipated it, no. And neither had you, the next. A car rounded the bend as soon as she made her way across the road. The driver honked and she'd turned in the direction of the vehicle, unmoving, bereft of the will to live. The driver grounded on the brakes but it was too late. She'd gashed her head against a kerb and fallen to the ground, eyes open, staring in your direction, stone dead.

You'd gone into hiding but it wasn't much use, what with the nightmares that left you sleepless. Your eyes flutter open and you sit up. You make out a figure garbed in a flowing red dress as the room is illumined by flashes of lightning. Alarmed, you turn on the bedside lamp. Nothing. You muss your hair with your hands. Perhaps you were seeing things again.

You feel the bedsheets rustle and spin around, panic stricken. The figure you'd earlier seen lays beside you and it's all you could do to not scream. The light illuminates a face you very much recall — Lola's. She has a finger over her smirking lips in a shushing gesture. Your screams ring through the silent neighborhood. Then a choking sound, and finally, silence...

Your eyes flutter open. Yet another nightmare. You make for the wall switch and turn on the lights. The light comes on, revealing a figure on your bed. You remember the flowing dress, the face, the smirking lips, the shushing gesture.

"No." You mutter.

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