The Visitor
By Brian Burger

It is night time as I am writing this, I waited for the sun to set for a couple of reasons. It seems almost as though the darkness brings with it's heavy thickness the words that I so desperately search for as I write. Words seemingly become more important than even air to me as I try to put my thoughts down, and during daylight hours I can never seem to find the words that I need to properly convey my message. As a result my writings suffocate, they do not work. They die off and I lose interest in them. I know I have botched many a story by trying to pen it during the day, only to find that the text just wouldn't flow as it should and consequently the story becomes lost to me. Each time I try to rewrite it it comes out the same. Boringly flat, uninspired, until I lose all hope in that particular piece. This story has come at far too great a cost for me to risk that.

Because of this little dilemma I have taken to sleeping through the days and waking only during the hours of darkness to create my works. The sun has become a stranger to me now. The night brings me my gift, my words finally seem to be unlocked from where ever they are stored in my mind, and I can once again speak through my pen.

The darkness, recently, has been bringing me something else -- my Visitor.

At first I was frightened of him -- it. I would catch a glimpse of movement out of a window, briefly interrupting the steady beams of moonlight that drew their strange shapes on my wooden floor. I blamed my normally inactive imagination the first couple of nights, but it continued to occur and it quickly became a nightly event. After long hours of toiling over my writing I would glance up to ask the darkness for the inspiration to continue and I would be greeted by it -- the Visitor -- fleeing from the window and from my view. I have never had a good look at him, often i saw nothing but the changing shadows caused by a sudden movement.

After about a month of these sightings, they stopped all at once. For a long period of time I seemed to be alone once more. I saw no sign of my late night watcher for weeks on end, throughout the rest of the fall and into winter.

It was the night of the blizzard that he once again made his presence known.

My Cousin was staying with me that weekend, as he did every year around that time. The ice fishing was especially good where I lived and we made a weekend of sitting on the lake that sat about two miles through the woods from my house.

Much to my dismay I would have to change my sleeping patterns for that one weekend of the year so that we could fish in during daylight hours. We tried to go at night on a few occasions, but it was simply too cold without the sun's presence to help provide some warmth, and having to explain to my Cousin why it was that I slept the daylight hours away grew tiresome.

We sat on the lake one afternoon, lazilly holding our fishing poles waiting on a hit. We were both bundled in plenty of clothing. I was quite bored, I quietly mused at my Cousin's appearance. The bulk from the many layers of clothes he wore exaggerated his already too small head. He always sort of had a way of annoying me, and looking at him there, looking as large and misproportioned as he did, I couldn't help but snicker. Secretly, I was miserable from the cold and any humor I could find in the situation I made sure to take full advantage of.

"It's going to snow," he said, breaking the silence as we fished. The suddenness with which he said it made me jump slightly, and I'm sure he wouldn't have noticed had the ice under my chair not groaned in protest. He looked silently amused at my reaction. I felt my face go slightly red with frusteration.

It was easy to see the storm rolling in our direction. The clouds were an odd color that day. They were a very vivid and extremely dark blue, and the sun reflected off of them just right so that it made the snow that already laid across the lake look faintly blue as well.

"Yes," I responded, trying to sound as though I hadn't noticed already. "It looks like it's going to start soon, perhaps we should head back?" Why it was that he felt the need to point out the obvious was beyond my grasp, at the time I found it to be rather insulting, as though he thought I wouldn't have been able to notice for myself. For some reason whenever he did this I always pretended as though he had brought it to my attention for the first time.

"Likely a wise idea," he said. I thought he sounded almost proud for having noticed the storm.

We had caught nothing that afternoon, nor anything on the days before that. We were not limited in our food stores though, we did not fish to eat, we merely did it to pass the time. Normally we conversed as we sat there, but not today. My lack of sleep over the past few days had put me in a sour mood, and both of us were a bit discouraged at our sour luck on the lake that weekend. Despite our failure I was prepared to be snowed in for a week, at the very least. Being well stocked for such situations I thought was a wise thing to do.

We trudged back across the lake, slowly, carefully watching our footing across the snow covered ice. I listened to the sharp crackling sound the ice made under us. It was a sound that had once unnerved me to no end, now I found it to be serene.

We arrived home rather quickly. Obviously worried, my Cousin set a rather brisk pace once we had made it safely across the lake. I was a little out of breath as we arrived, the snow was knee deep at some points in the fields we walked through before entering the woods in which my house sat, and I was in no physical shape to be travelling through it as quickly as we did.

The storm lingered in the distance, it was barely any closer than it had been while we were on the lake. It was a slow moving one for sure, and that worried me some. I thought of maybe making our way into town before it hit to find shelter there. I quickly dismissed the idea - it was just another winter storm, nothing to be overly worried about.

We passed the rest of the afternoon sitting by the fireplace, trying to warm up from our time spent in the cold that day. Neither of us had much to say. I could always lose myself staring at the flames, there was something about them that hypnotized me before I could realize what was happening. It wasn't uncommon for me to lose myself for hours in one of the chairs while I was trying to think of a new idea to base a story on.

That night the storm hit all at once. I read a book as he looked out the windows into the darkness, pacing nervously. Reading was another favorite passtime of mine. On the rare occasion when I did not have a pen and paper in front of me I could ususally be found with a book.

I glanced every now and again from my story to the window, surveying the scene. It was silent outside, nothing moved save for small white specks of snow drifting to the ground. no living thing stirred in the moonlight - it was as if every animal in the area had known the storm was coming and found shelter. The clouds were still slowly rolling in, from my point of view they were merely a half a finger's width from consuming the moon and leaving my Cousin and I with only the flickering light from our candles and lanterns.

Only minutes later the silence was instantly broken by a gust of wind so powerful that I thought the house would surely be torn apart. I could hear the beams in the walls stress under the sudden force and instantly I dropped the book, forgetting about it.

I sat in my chair, completely stiff and wide eyed, shocked by the amazing power of that wind gust. It was almost as though the air itself was retreating from the wrath of the storm, I suddenly wondered without reason if every animal had retreated from the area as well on some instinctual urge instead of finding shelter, I wondered if my idea to go into town for the night was based on that same instinct.

These thoughts sent a chill through me and I felt every hair on my arms and neck stand on end.

Another gust of wind as violent as the first hit, once again the wooden beams in the walls groaned from the overwhelming stress put on them, the windows rattled defiantly, refusing the bitter cold air entrance to my home for the time being.

The woods that surrounded my property did little to slow the rushing air, and even over the deafening howl of the wind I could still hear tree after tree snapping off and falling. The sound was one of the most frightening I have ever heard. Each of those trees had withstood hundreds of years of foul weather, until tonight.

Quicky we both regained our senses and moved away from the windows. A stray branch from a tree or a large chunk of ice could be made easily into a bullet in a wind like the one from that night. We sat in front of the fire place once more, facing it and the windowless wall behind it desperately trying to tune out the horrible noises coming from outside.

The house moaned again and again as the wind pounded against it with unimaginable fury. In all of my years I had never seen nor heard of a storm like that one.

Periodically one of us would turn around and peer out of one of the windows which were beginning to be coated with ice and snow. The snow was coming down faster now, it looked nearly as thick in the air as it did on the ground as it rushed in whichever direction the wind was blowing at the time.

It was my Cousin who saw my Visitor first, after a particularly violent attack from the wind he turned, looking to the window once more. "Is... is somebody out there? I think I see somebody!" He sounded both frightened and excited at the same time.

I turned as well, trying to follow his gaze through a far window. I could see nothing but darkness and snowflakes, an eerie mix of black and white dancing about. I looked to him again, wondering what it was that was going through his mind. Surely no human could survive out there, and I expected that he knew that as well.

"Nobody's out there," I told him. "How could anybody possibly be out there? Come now, calm yourself you're beginning to imagine things."

"No, no there is! I see - wait, where did he go? He was -"

I shot him an amused glance, trying to convince him again that he was only imagining things. I was trying to convince myself as well, I think.

I never feared my Visitor before, save for the first few of his many appearances, but just the thought of his presence tonight, during this storm absolutely terrified me. It wasn't an uneasy feeling like the one I had when it was just the storm to worry about, it was something else. It was something deep inside of me telling me to be afraid, to fear this thing that could survive in weather like this. I didn't doubt that my Cousin did see my Visitor out there, in fact I knew that he had. My efforts to convince him otherwise, to hear him admit that he was wrong were doing nothing to calm my nerves, because I knew.

"Perhaps you're right. Maybe I'm just a little on edge from this storm," he said.

I felt no better hearing him say it.

I involuntarily looked to the window more often now, all of my nerves were on end after my Cousin's sighting. Each time I turned to look my heart lept into my throat and I clenched my jaw in an effort to hold it inside of me. Over and over I expected to see that face pressed up against the window, making it's plan to get inside to the heat and shelter. Making it's plan to remove us from this place. I swore my Cousin would hear my frantic heartbeat and know something was wrong. I couldn't believe he hadn't read it on my face yet.

He seemed so calm now, the wind gusts had come and passed, giving way to a more steady whisper of a breeze. We still sat in a standing house and that was all that mattered to him, but he had no idea. He didn't know what was out there watching us, sitting in the unbearable cold, waiting.

I moved about my cabin restlessly, occassionally stopping and pawing through one of the many stacks of books that sat around the room. My Cousin once again stood by the window, peering out into the darkness. Part of me hoped he would see the thing out there again, I wanted him to feel the fear I was feeling. I wanted him to be suffering as much as I was. At the same time I hoped he wouldn't see anything, and that way I would not be completely resigned to the reality of the presence of my Visitor.

Perhaps he was watching it right now, maybe he was looking upon my Visitor, not telling me for fear of my thinking him insane.

Perhaps I was overthinking the entire situation.

I couldn't focus on anything, not the book I had picked up to skim through, not my writings, nothing. I paced crazily back and forth, from one side of the cabin to the other. I climbed to the loft where I slept perhaps a half a dozen times and peered out the small porthole of a window near my bed. Nothing but black nothingness being filled by a mass of white intruiders.

"He's there..." I involuntarily mumbled.

My Cousin failed to hear me.

Why hadn't he heard me? I said it loud enough. I wanted him to ask me what I had said, what I had meant by it. I wanted an excuse to explain it to him.

"He's out there..." It slipped again.

I laid on my bed trying to clear my head. All of the heat from the fireplace was gathering in the loft, it was warm, comforting. Safe.

I feel asleep there, and had the worst nightmares of my life.

Something woke me later that night. I had no idea how much time had passed nor any idea what had awoken me. I laid perfectly still, paralyzed by my fear. Was it a noise? I didn't think so. A feeling? Yes, that's it, but of what?

I opened my eyes, I was facing the window. I saw snow, but something was wrong. The snow wasn't falling, it wasn't moving it was... it was over the window, it was so deep it had consumed my entire cabin.

"It's over the roof," a voice coming from the ladder to the loft. I sat up instantly, frightened by the voice and already on the edge of my nerves from the sight outside my window.

"What?"

"The snow... it's so deep it's over the roof, I think. It's been over your window for hours now." He said calmly. Frusteratingly calmly.

"Why didn't you wake me?" I was furious. Was he not afraid?

"Wake you? What would you have done, Cousin?" He asked.

I had no answer. He climbed back down the ladder, I heard him walk to a chair and sit in it. As calm as can be. He had no idea. I could no longer stand it, how come I had to lay there in such sheer terror, how come I had to know

I made my way down the ladder, I stared at him, deciding what to say, what to tell him. With frusteration, with anger, with jealousy, I glared at him. He sat calmly, reading the book I had earlier been reading. He must have felt my stare, he looked up at me quizically, obviously confused. He knew nothing.

"What is it?" He looked almost childlike in his innocence, in his ignorance.

"There's something out there." I said it so bluntly, my voice was completely flat, emotionless. "It's been watching us, I've seen it." Still no emotion, no caring for how it would settle with him. I was tired of being alone with my fear.

"What?" He didn't understand. He didn't get it.

"There is a thing in the woods. It's been around for months. It looks in my windows some nights. It watches me and on occasion I catch it. It's out there right now." I swung my arm toward the far window to emphasize my point and nearly knocked the lamp off of the table.

"How do you know that? You've been dreaming." He said, once again he unintentionally insulted me. He was so good at that. "What kind of thing?" The last part was a little more serious. I sensed worry -- and I liked it.

"I don't know what kind of thing it is, I've never gotten a good look." I paused, trying to think of a way to convey the severity of the situation to him. "Some devil-thing if it survives a night like this without shelter."

"Cousin, it sounds to me like you've been getting a little too involved in those stories you write."

Once again his words instantly ignited my blood, I felt my anger rising, it was filling me. I opened my mouth to speak but instantly I stopped. The window -- something was wrong. I stopped and stared at the snow that sat outside the window. My anger was instantly replaced once more by fear.

My Cousin followed my stare, I'm sure my fear showed in my eyes because it instantly showed in his as well. The snow outside of the very window he had been peering out of earlier that night was moving, as if something was tunneling through it. It fell away little by little, as though something only inches away was unpacking it, pushing it aside.

I pushed my Cousin aside and dashed to the loft. He didn't believe me, I'd let him sit down here and stare the thing right in the eyes as it reached the window. I'd keep him down there until he apologized to me. I wouldn't be the only terrified one any longer.

I climbed the ladder before he regained his balance. As quickly as I could I pulled the ladder up into the loft behind me. I refused to look to the window, I didn't even look over the edge. I laid on my bed staring at the ceiling, and listened for his pleas.

"Are you insane? What are you doing? You're crazy!" he was yelling. Even then all he could do was insult me.

"Very much so." I smiled to myself. "What's going on outside the window, Cousin?"

He said something but I couldn't hear it. The sound of the breaking window cut him off.

I laid perfectly still, wondering silently what I had just done. I stayed there for an amount of time that seemed to go by slower than a week, listening for any sound from below, but I heard nothing.

"Cousin?" I called out when finally my shock finally subsided. I still lay perfectly still on my bed, making not a sound.

There was no answer. I couldn't bring myself to move, my muscles refused to cooperate. I continued to lay there, listening, waiting for any sign of the Visitor.

Nothing.

I mustered the courage to slowly sit up and peer off the edge of the loft. The chaos that greeted me nearly made me sick. The window had been shattered and what must have been thousands of pounds of snow had fallen into the cabin. A few large tree branches were mixed in with the snow, the Visitor must have used them to break the window after he tunneled to it.

My Cousin and the Visitor though, were nowhere to be seen. There was not a sign of either of them.

To this day I am unsure of how the Visitor escaped. My Cousin, however, I found two days later. He was trapped under the snow that had fallen into my cabin. I had assumed that the Visitor took him away.

Had I known where he was I could probably have saved him.

How was I to know?

I was trapped in my cabin for nearly two weeks before the snow melted enough for me to crawl out of my loft window. Most of the trees in the woods that had surrounded my home had buckled under the weight of the snow. The Visitor never bothered me during the period in which I was trapped in my cabin and my fear of him once again began to subside.

The loss of my Cousin was tragic, however, the loss did not come without a gain - finally, I have a story that may be published someday. I always lacked the imagination to write a good tale, but when one is handed to you, even if it's at a cost, how can you turn it down?