The Night Watchman

The Night Watchman

At the age of eight years old, Stevie Nixon should have known better that to go to his older brother’s room for comfort against the storm that was raging outside.
The wind shrieked past the windows, only the loud crashing of the thunder drowning it out. Inside, the room shone as bright as the moon, as the lightning reached across the sky with its cold, skeletal fingers, earthing themselves at any given point, lining the sky with a sheet of brilliant white light. The rain drummed its funeral march against the small, semi-detached house.

“Timmy! Can I spend some time in here with you? At least ‘til the bad weather goes away,” Stevie said, coyly.
Tim turned around on his bed, picked up one of his pillows in his right hand, then threw it at his brother, stood in the doorway.
“Don’t keep calling me, Timmy, dumbass. Timmy’s a kids name. I’m an adult, Steeeviiie,” Tim said, in an exaggerated tone.
Stevie opened the bedroom door a little wider. “Well?”
“Well what?” Tim said, with a frown.
Stevie asked again. “Well! Can I come in for a while?”
Tim considered it for a moment. “Only if you promise to do my share of the chores… For a week.”
“Okay.” Stevie said. Growing more and more scared, as the thunder boomed once more.

Tim turned on the lamp at the side of his bed, moving over so that his brother could get under the covers with him. Stevie jumped into the bed with a bounce, pulling the covers over his head, as a thunder clap shook the window in its frame.
“Come out from there, sissy.” His brother laughed.
As Stevie pulled the covers back down over his face, Tim leaned up close to his face, screaming. “Boo!”
Stevie pulled the covers back over his head and began to cry. He didn’t stop crying until his brother reassured him that he wouldn’t have to do ‘His’ share of the chores, or his own. Tim would do both.
Slowly, the crying stopped, and the covers were brought down once more, in a cautious motion. Only to reveal a tear streaked face, with red rimmed eyes.
Tim said that he was sorry, and that he didn’t mean to scare him so much.
“I wasn’t scared,” came the reply. “It takes something a damn site scarier than that to frighten me.”
Tim laughed at his brother. “Oh, really!”
“You bet”
Smiling. “Well, how’s about a nice little horror story, to send you off to sleep then.”
Stevie was unsure. Tonight had been a harrowing enough experience for him, what with the storm and Tim’s idea of a joke. None of that mattered now though, as he was in no mind to show his big brother that he was afraid. So, before he could button his lip, he said. “Fine…The horribler the better.”

Tim sat back and thought for a while. A grin, so wide, that he could feel his lips stretch like elastic, spread across his long, thin face. Stevie didn’t like that look. It meant that something very wicked was going on in his brothers’ mind. Something devious. It made him look like a mischievous little elf.
He asked. “Have I ever told you about ‘The Night Watchman’?” He knew he hadn’t, but it all added to the suspense.
Stevie stared at him, warily. “No.”
Tim grinned. “Well, hold on to your jim-jams, it’s going to get messy from here on in.”

As Tim started his tale, another huge crash of thunder rumbled into the bedroom, followed by a burst of light, revealing two, almost statuesque faces, startled into incapacitation. As the light in the room dissipated, so did the electrical thrill that charged through their veins. Their breathing resumed to a normal level, as did their heart beats. Neither said a word for a second, an almost mourning silence filled the room. Without noticing, they edged a little closer to one-another.
Tim gave off the impression that he hadn’t been frightened at all by the commotion that seemed to swell around them. Once again, he attempted to begin his story.

He began: “We had been playing out, when Jimmy first told us the story about The Night Watchman. We all laughed, but he remained all but sceptical. He said that he had seen him once, when he was in his hospital bed –he was forever becoming ill or hurting himself on things- He was lying there in a deep sleep, dreaming of every nasty creepy-crawly, from spiders to the Bogeyman. That was when he suddenly awoke. There, standing above him, reaching out for him, was, The Night Watchman, in the flesh.

Again, the room was lit by a flash of lightning.

Stevie gulped. “So, what happened next? How did he get away?”
Tim snapped. “Well, if you let me finish, I’ll tell you.” He looked annoyed.
“So, there he was, face to face with The Night Watchman. Every kids’ nightmare. Just as the moment of doom approached, an angry nurse entered the room, turning on the light, wanting to know what all the fuss was about. Anyway, when the light came on in the room, The Night Watchman disappeared. The nurse left the room, after settling him back down, by switching the light on and off, showing him that there was nothing actually there in the room with him. He slept without another disturbance.
“That is, until…”
Stevie almost cried out. “Until, what?”
Tim clasped his hand over Stevie’s mouth. “Shhh…Quiet, you dummy.You’ll wake up mom an’ dad.”
A muffled reply. “Sorry.”

Tim took his hands away. “That is, until about a year later. A whole bunch of us were hanging around in the alley, when his mom came past. We asked why Jimmy hadn’t been out to play for a while, when, his mom suddenly ran off down the alley, crying. I didn’t know it at the time –none of us did- but, it turns out, a short while back, she had heard him screaming and shouting, (something about a Night Watchman) and the crashing of ornaments. As she reached his bedroom door, she heard a shrill cry of “My Eyes”. Then silence filled the house. When she went into the room, Jimmy was dead.

Stevie whispered. “What had happened?”
Tim edged forward. “No-one said so, but me and my friends had the feeling that, before, he had cheated The Night Watchman. But, this time, there was nobody there to turn the light on in time.
“You mean, The Night Watchman got him?”
His brother sat back. “Definitely.”
Shuddering. “What does he do to you?” When he said it, he wished he hadn’t.
“Well! He comes just after you have fallen into a deep sleep. After the whole house has fallen asleep, so there’s no-one to help in time to stop him…Unless you’re lucky that is. He’s dressed, head to toe, in a black boiler suit, dripping blood. He has a huge ginger beard twitching with worms and maggots. His hair matches his beard, in that, its alive with the bodies of thousands of bugs that feed on his flaking scalp. He stands about eight feet tall, but is usually seen bent over, but by then it’s too late. You’re a gonner. He’s as wide as a house, with hands like catchers mitts. With him, an awful smell of rotten flesh and rotting vegetables lingers. But worst of all, is the empty sockets. You see, he has no eyes. That’s why he comes. He wakes children from their sleep with his giant hands, reaching, taking out both of the child’s eyes with his dirty fingers. Then, after putting them in his own cold, empty sockets, he watches them die of fright."
Stevie frowned. “But, you can’t just take someone’s eyes out and use them for yourself. It wouldn’t work.”
“Don’t deny the forces of evil. It’s black magic. They can do what ever they want to…Stupid.” Tim smirked.
“Even that?” Stevie said, eyes ever widening.
“Even that.”

Outside, the rain fell in torrents. The storm seemed to be in full swing.
Thinking hard about what he had just heard. “Gee…That was a scary story.”
“What makes it even more scary, is the fact that it’s true. And it still goes on to this day.” Tim could feel himself getting a bit nervous himself in the room. He looked at the long, ever changing shadow of the tree that stood outside the window. He’d always hated the damn thing. The shadows looked like arms and hands reaching into his bedroom. The Night Watchman’s hands.
“Do you mind if I stay in with you tonight?” Stevie asked. “If I’m quiet.”
“Okay.” Tim said. Feeling secretly relieved, glad of the company.
They snuggled down under the warmth of the blankets, both saying a silent prayer that they would still be there in the morning.
They said goodnight to each other, then let the pillows envelope them for a night of sweet dreams.

Downstairs, the quaint Grandmother clock struck four o’clock
Upstairs, Stevie awoke from a deep sleep rubbing his eyes. ‘If the storm carries on like this all night, tomorrow, we won’t have to go to school’, he thought to himself. It was then that he saw, in the corner of the room, a strange shape. It hadn’t been there before. All the other shadows he could attribute to the furniture in the room, or the tree outside. But, this one seemed different.
Outside, the weather was reaching its peak. It seemed to hammer down on the roof above them, the thunder sounding like God beating his Deitic fists down on their home. The rain poured, the lightning on the horizon, blinding him in the bed.

But…
What was that at the end of the bed?
He screwed up his eyes, squinting into the darkness.
Another flash of lightning brought to light the horrifically oversized form of a man. The Night Watchman. His face pale, a mass of wriggling movement. His mouth was opened wide, revealing a toothless, pock-marked hole. No tongue was visible at all. But, the most disturbing sight, was the eyes staring back at him. Trickles of scarlet trailed down from the corners of the sockets, collecting in a long clot at his chin, the blood feeding the creatures within his beard.
It seemed as though Stevie was mimicking him, as his mouth was wide open too.
Although his mouth was wide open, Stevie couldn’t make a sound. Riveted to the spot, he could only stare back at the Thing before him.

It felt like centuries had passed, before he had plucked up enough courage to reach out for the lamp at the bedside.
Just before The Night Watchman vanished, he made a lunge down toward the boys’ face, but was too late. The light was on.
Shaking all over, Stevie nudged his brother, about to tell him of The Night Watchman at the end of their bed. But…Tim didn’t wake. ‘He couldn’t have slept throughout that whole episode’ Stevie thought to himself. He had seen him in the flesh, and he wouldn’t let his brother deprive him of telling him so, just for the sake of a bit more sleep. He pulled his brother around by the shoulder. It was then that he saw why Tim hadn’t responded.

As Stevie gazed into the empty sockets, he found his voice in a cacophony of sound.
The only other sound in the house, was the sound of their parents screams, as they entered the room.