I Live In A Small Town In Texas Called Sanderson, And I Can Tell Something Weird Is Going On

How the hell was I going to catch a train at night, especially with half the town and those things out there? I looked down to the driveway. I could see the Sheriff’s squad car, but nothing else in sight. As I peered around at the empty landscape, I heard something odd. It was a rhythmic clicking coming from a few feet away from the door. It sounded like water dripping rapidly down a long wooden tube. Not drip by drip, but in an almost song-like pattern, with waves of quick varying intensities. It’s specific, I know, but that’s the first thing I thought when I heard it.

I scanned Daryl’s room and spotted a round side mirror from a Harley sitting on his chest of drawers. I grabbed it and quietly knelt at the bottom of the door. I inched it slowly to the gap between the door and the floor. After a few seconds, I found the angle with the best view. At first, all I could see was a pitch black hallway with a sliver of light near the end emitting up from downstairs. Then I saw silhouetted figures appear on Daryl’s mirror. They weren’t quite human figures, unless they were funhouse reflections. These figures possessed impossibly long necks that led almost a foot and a half up from the shoulders into round heads with no jaws at all. I saw protruding upper teeth, jutting down like blunt fangs. The faces had almost no profile features at all. Sunken in and flat faces would be the best I could describe them. They clicked at each other, one more than the other, almost an accompaniment to a percussion solo. If I could’ve made out any more in the dim light, I might’ve screamed from the horror of it. After a few more quick exchanges of damp clicking, they headed back out of the light and away from Daryl’s mirror. A few seconds passed and I heard them going downstairs.

I didn’t waste any time. I was scared shitless and had more questions in my head than any man should. I pushed aside every fear and thought, and only one thing mattered: to get the fuck out of Sanderson.

I got up from the floor and looked around the room again. I spotted a cup of pens and other random knickknacks by Daryl’s bed. I quickly but quietly rifled through and found a paperclip. I rushed back to the door as I pressed and pushed the paperclip into the tool I needed. Hell, I picked half the locks in the old house ten times over already. It took me all but 15 seconds before I had the lock open. The light noise the mechanism made my heart stop in my chest. I waited, eyes and ears wide open, but there weren’t any reactions out there. I slowly opened the door to the hallway, my eyes scanning in both directions. I finally inched out of the room, taking each step like the floor could collapse beneath me at any moment. I waited for a minute at the edge of the stairs. I couldn’t make out much of downstairs, but I could see the front door from there. This is it, I thought. I’m fast. Faster than Fred and Daryl, every single time we raced as kids. I bit my lip in anticipation. I can do this.

I gripped the railing of the stairs and was in the process of placing my foot to break into a run when a lanky shadow stretched across the floor downstairs. I didn’t want to get pulled out of Daryl’s room by one of those things, so I backed away down the shorter end of the hall. There was only one door on this side, but I didn’t have time to think. The shadow was already heading up the stairs. I opened the door behind me without looking, keeping my gaze locked on the top of the stairwell. I could just make out the beginning of a tall necked figure turn from the stairs to Daryl’s room as I closed the door quietly in front of me.

I turned around, and though nothing was particularly familiar, I knew right then where I was. I hadn’t seen this room in years, but I remembered that king-sized bed. Thick silk drapes that made up a canopy covered the bed on all four sides. I was in Mama’s room. The only light was coming in from the window, thanks to the moon and the town. It wasn’t much light, but I could make out the general shapes from inside the canopy. Something was in there, wheezing as the covers heaved slowly up and down. I inched slowly with my back nearly pressed against the wall, my course aimed at the window. A few steps in and I felt something heavy hit my foot. I looked down to see my backpack. Feeling grateful, I cautiously knelt down, not once taking my eyes off the bed. I put my backpack on and continued on my path farthest from the damn bed. I was passing a large oak cabinet in the darkest corner of the room, when a voice came from right behind me.