I’ve got a “nice” wintry story for this time of year.
Writing horror is often about finding those “what if” moments. I found one such moment one day when I went to take out the garbage and recycling. The double doors to the garbage shed made quite a lot of noise. Suspicious noise, if you ask me.
And, it just occurred to me, I need to take out the garbage today…
Wish me luck!
~ ~ ~
The sound snapped my attention away from my task. I knew I hadn’t caused it. I had my little blue bin prepped on the edge of the big, metal recycling bin in the back parking lot, ready to dump the contents. But a sound like a groan in the darkness made me freeze.
Turning my head slowly, hearing the bones creaking in my neck, I looked to the left and right but couldn’t see much past the dull glow of the flickering lights that sat under the roof of the shed.
There it was again! And this time, I caught it. The doors to the shed inched forward, moving to open until they were stopped by the lock and chain that kept them closed. The groan and a thump accompanied their movements.
Although the plastic, glass, metal, and cardboard recycling bins were left out in the open in the parking lot, the dumpsters that held the garbage of hundreds of tenants were locked away in the shed this late at night. The superintendent said it was so the racoons, and skunks, and rabbits wouldn’t get in. But I had never seen any of those creatures before. Not in this neighbourhood. And now I was starting to wonder.
It was probably the darkness playing tricks on me, teasing my mind, but I knew what I saw peeking out from the opening as the doors strained against their lock and chain was no shadow. There were no trees nearby to cast shadows like that. Shadows that looked like long, gnarled fingers gripping the edges of the doors before slipping back out of sight.
And there was no breeze. Nothing strong enough to account for the movement of the doors. Nothing to whistle through the cracks and crevices of the shed.
When I thought I saw the fingers poke out a little further as the doors pushed out a little farther, I dropped my blue bin. Cans and glass jars clattered together, and some spilled onto the ground. But I was long gone, running at top speed to get to the imagined safety of my apartment.
