The Night Thing

THE NIGHT THING

It is not easy being a women who is deaf and suffers physical deformities. I seek the protection of the night. Scrabbling for food in dumpsters and gardens and orchards, finding warmth over grates and in doorways. There I spend my nights. At mornings first light I slink to dark places to hide and sleep. My whole life as I can remember has been thus. If it weren’t for the voices telling me where to go and what to do, I would surly have perished.

That night as I scuttled up the street dragging that fearsome thing, they said, “Try the door of that cottage.”

The shadows of the trees shielded me from moon light, and the door opened and I slipped inside. I could hear snoring from the other room.

“There, that pantry.” They said.

I squirmed onto a shelf and pulled my heavy load with me. I then rearranged the cans of food in front of me to hide from view.

The voices said, “Do not move. Make no noise, sleep.”

I obeyed.

Thus it was many days that I slept in my lair. Each night as the sound of snoring began, I would creep out and consume groceries and meat. Life once again was good and warm. The voices spoke little now, just, “He comes. Make no sound.”

Each morning I could hear the one who snores as he puttered around his kitchen before going to his work. One morning I heard him say, “There are only six eggs here. The apples are disappearing. The meat appears to have been gnawed upon.

Like so many times before, I could sense an end to my living arrangements. I dreaded the message the voices would soon deliver.

That night I left my pantry to consume food. A great noise and light enveloped the kitchen

The one who snores leaped forward and shouted, “NOW I HAVE YOU. YOU WOULD STEAL MY FOOD.”

The voices ordered as they have many times before, “KILL HIM! KILL HIM!”

From the pantry I grabbed my axe and sunk it deep into the skull of the one who snores.

That night as I scuttled up the street, dragging a fearsome load, they said, “Try the door of that house.”

End

Story ID:	4063
Written by:	Dick Dunlap (bio, contact, other stories)
Story type:	Fiction
Location:	unknown unknown
Year:	1893