The sound had finally moved away from him. The footsteps! Heavy, impatient, tapping their toes at his front door as the people they belonged to waited for him to answer… they had gone. At last.
Callum peeled back the curtain and peered into the outside world. Fog weaved through his winter garden in thick spindrals, only pierced by fat drops of rain. No sign of ‘them’ remained, though it was hard to be sure when he couldn’t see properly.
‘Them.’ Unwanted guests. It was Sunday, nine in the morning, and as anyone who knew him knew, he didn’t appreciate his solitude being taken from him. Family, friends, anyone. If they arrived unannounced, uninvited, he had no interest in them. Especially on a Sunday. This was his day of rest, silence, and peace.
Not that that was strictly restricted to Sundays. He craved being alone. He was sick of people bothering him. Was it really so much to ask for? The silence was to be cherished, this abode was his and no-one should trespass upon his sanctuary.
It wasn’t that he feared the outside world or its people, he wasn’t agoraphobic, although he grudgingly admitted it was possible he had some other hidden mental problem, but did it really matter? He enjoyed his alone time. His own thoughts. His own… him-ness. Was that so bad?
– – –
“The wolf would only have to wait for her,” a voice hissed.
The elongated breath brushed against his neck in a long, serpentine tendril and left a chill across his flesh. Callum whipped around, his eyes darting about the room. There was someone in his house. In his sanctuary! But, that was impossible… he held his breath and pricked his earts, listening for footsteps, a tapping, more whispers, anything.
“The wolf,” the voice breathed, louder, closer than before. “Are you ready for what it will bring?”
“Who are you?” Callum shouted. “Why are you in my house?”
A deep chuckle vibrated the floorboards and shook his frame to and fro, and he struggled to stabilise himself against the windowsill.
“I am you,” the voice breathed against his ear. “We are one. Tell me, dear Callum, what will you do when the wolf comes? It will come for her, you know. And then it will come for you.”
Callum shrank up against the wall and trembled.
“Wh-who is the wolf?”
– – –
He knows my name, Callum huddled closer to the wall with the wooden sill pressed up against his spine but the discomfort didn’t phase him. He knows my name! He is me, I am him, the wolf is us, the wolf is us… what the fuck? The wolf is us?
“I-I don’t understand!” he shouted, collapsing into a heap on the floor. “Go away. Leave me alone. Get out of my house!”
“Dear, sweet Callum,” the voice purred, its breath curving about his neck and touching his ear. “You don’t need to worry, not anymore. We will take care of it. The both of us. Together.”
A sharp pain twisted itself through his ear canal. He couldn’t scream, cry out, groan, or whimper. He was frozen, and then the agony disappeared as swift as it began.
Callum stood upright, straightened his shirt, then wiped the sweat from his brow. He glanced at the wetness on his hand and smirked. Pathetic. He strode towards the front door and whipped it open, then smiled into the fog and rain. Perhaps he would enter the outside world for a bit after all. The girl was out there.
His smile widened and a deep chuckle escaped his throat. It was as the voice ordained. He was the wolf, and she was his little red riding hood.
Hullo! It’s time for @mariannewest’s #weekendfreewrite! 🙂 The weekend freewrite involves three five-minute freewrite prompts, weaved together to make a story, but you don’t get to look at the prompts in advance – it’s a surprise! and will guide your story.
I don’t know where I was going with mine. I began basically talking about Extreme Introversion. My feelings thrusted upon the shoulders of fictional Callum. Then it went a bit darker. Eep.
The header image is CC0 and courtesy of Pixabay.
Thank you for stopping by and having a read! 🙂
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