Dark Hour Diary
By Eric L. Freeman Sr.
January 17, 2009
That smell. That unbearable odor is everywhere. I started smelling it about two days ago and the first time I really noticed it, I nearly threw up. It’s maddening. I keep feeling like I’m going out of my mind. The world doesn’t even look the same any more. I keep seeing strange things all around me like the world is… is losing cohesion. Nothing has made any sense at all over the past couple of days
Nevertheless, I’m getting ahead of myself. I want to start from the beginning, if I could even comprehend where the beginning actually was. I guess I should put a name to this little piece of madness. At one point in this world, I was known as Ira Sheffield, a novelist with two published works on the New York Times bestsellers list. It’s funny now because that life seems like it was a million decades ago. I tried to make some feeble attempt at contemplating what’s going on. I took some advice that all high school English students are taught: To better understand a situation, write about it. Therefore, I decided to write this journal in hopes that I could, I don’t know, to try to figure out what’s happening. I stole this notebook from an all-night drug store. The cashier was so caught up in his iPhone he didn’t even notice me
I haven’t really slept in almost twenty-four hours even though I’m incredibly exhausted. I think I dosed off for maybe ten minutes earlier today but I’m not sure. I’m not sure of anything anymore. I thought that if I just closed my eyes I would simply fall unconscious and maybe sleep for two weeks. But no such luck. All I see are images in the dark that don’t make any goddamn sense at all. This must be what it’s like to go insane.
I’ve completely lost track of my days and nights, I can’t even remember the last time I saw the sun. I’m just so tired now. But I know that I need to get this out while it’s still fresh on my mind. I thought that coming to Chicago would be good for my creativity. Maybe spark the old writing juices. Well I guess it actually did.
Three days ago, I woke up in a hospital and didn’t know how I had gotten there. There wasn’t anyone around when I come to, so I simply left. But not before I was able to sneak a peek at my medical chart. It said that some animal had attacked me, but I didn’t remember anything about an attack. There was no staff on the floor I was on, so sneaking out wasn’t a hassle. I sort of recall stumbling into the street that night but it’s still pretty vague to me.
God, I’m just so thirsty. I drank almost a gallon of water from the fountain in the park but it didn’t seem to help. It’s like when you get a taste for something and only that one thing will satisfy you. That’s exactly how I feel. I’m so sleepy. Maybe now I can actually get some rest.
January 18, 2009
I used to love to say the quote “no rest for the wicked “, but now, I swear I want to shoot the fucker who came up with it. Still haven’t really slept, just more of those crazy images almost like visions or something. I walked past a store window a little while ago and got a quick glimpse of myself. My face looks horrible. I see deep, dark creases around my eyes and my cheeks are sunken in like I haven’t eaten in weeks. Actually, I can’t recall the last time I ate. Even though I’m starving at the moment, nothing appeals to me in the slightest. I felt sick to my stomach earlier just from walking past a McDonalds. I saw a huge gash on my neck while I was checking my reflection. Figured that’s where I was attacked because they kind of look like teeth marks. The area was swollen and looked really bruised, however there wasn’t any pain. Maybe it’s just shock or perhaps malnutrition, either way, I’m going to wait to see if it clears up in a day or so.
I’ve started hearing this awful humming sound today. It’s almost inaudible but like a nagging drone that’s been pulsing at the back of my mind. I thought about going back to the hospital, but that would be a really obscure conversation to have. “Uh… excuse me nurse. I escaped from this hospital a few days ago now I need help.” There’s a trip to the psych ward I’m not ready to take just yet. I thought about calling my publicist, or someone, hell, even that bitch of an ex-wife of mine, but I wouldn’t know what to tell them. Isn’t that weird? A man that is paid to write four to six hundred page works of fiction can’t even think of the right words to describe my current situation. The only person who even knew I was coming to Chicago was my agent Vanessa and even she still believes I was just planning the trip.
Not to mention the fact that those fine folks at the hospital took all my possessions, including my cell phone. I couldn’t even remember whose number I had in there not to mention the actual digits to anybody in it. I’ve just been feeling as if I’ve been walking in a fog lately. Things that I know should make sense to me just seem completely impossible and utterly deranged.
When I try to remember the night I ran from the hospital, it’s all a blur. Something akin to a waking dream. I recollect making my way to the alley behind the hospital but that’s about it. Although, there was this dream that keeps coming to mind recently. I don’t know if it’s relevant or not but it seemed so real. I guess it’s supposed to be after I left the hospital that night. I was stumbling through an alley not sure of where I was going. It just felt as if I were being pulled towards something. I can’t recall ever having a dream that was just as realistic as this one. It gives me chills even now when I think about it.
In this dream, I believe I ran into someone while creeping through the evening shadows. Now normally, this wouldn’t be an issue but, according to the dream, I did something that utterly sickens me just thinking about it. Even in a dream, one would consider my actions as complete and absolute lunacy.
This individual was a complete stranger to me, which is odd because usually in dreams, the people you see are often times friends, family or someone you’ve met before. Anyway, this woman must have been using the alley as a shortcut to somewhere and it's my belief that she never even noticed my presence. But isn’t that the way of dreams? If you don’t want to be noticed, then you won’t be.
She seemed a little apprehensive, but who wouldn’t be late at night walking down a dimly lit alleyway. It was all just so realistic, it's almost as if I could see the slight traces of fear in her eyes. The most bizarre thing of the entire situation is, well is the fact that it actually… Jesus, it actually aroused me. I mean I felt so turned on by her fear that it was almost like a fucking wet dream from when I was a teenager. It felt as if I was stalking this poor woman down the alley and all the while, I could sense the raging hard on pulsing between my legs.
I continued to track her for a while longer, until I could no longer contain myself. I knew I would go bat-shit out of my mind if I didn’t have her. One moment, I was stalking behind this hapless pedestrian. Then instantaneously, I was in front of her. Suddenly, I was hovering over her like a bird of prey. I could hear her horrendous scream of sheer terror as I felt myself pounce on my target. As I observed this terrible vision, I felt utterly mortified, and yet, at the same time, completely ravenous.
That smell, which now haunts me even days later, seemed to be strangling the very atmosphere around us. The screams of my victim slowing began to die down and started to change into a wet, fluid soaked series of gurgling as if someone were pouring a thick liquid down her open throat. Always constant, was that feeling of extreme sexual arousal.
There’s not much else about this horrific nightmare that I can remember. Moreover, I can say with all honesty that I’m so relieved. I’ve never had any nightmare before in my life that has had me as shaken up as that one. Oddly, that wasn’t the only time I’ve had this vision. It's been recurring several times over the past few days. However, it's never the same person or same location. I don’t have a clue as to what any of this nonsense means or why it keeps happening.
Weird thing though, is I usually awaken from these dreams with this strange taste in my mouth. It’s a metallic taste like iron or something. Like taking a handful of pennies and sucking on them for a couple of hours.
Crazy as it may sound; I actually enjoy the taste now. Weird, right? I mean who could savor that intoxicating flavor that seems to be more and more prevalent after each of those visions. So scintillating and ever so wondrous.
God, I am going mad! The terrible humming in my head keeps getting louder. It's almost like someone whispering to me now. Why didn’t I just stay in the hospital? Why didn’t I get help when I had the chance?
That smell. Why does it make me so… so… hungry?
January 18, 2009: Later that night
I found myself skulking around one of this city’s many subway stations, which was closed down this late in the evening. I don’t have any memory of going to the station, just that something there was… calling me. Drawing me further into that murky blackness below ground. I’ve never been claustrophobic in my life but I was apprehensive about close quarters.
Not this time though. This time I felt quite comfortable, almost at ease. Just as if this is where I belonged. I reveled in the solitude that the empty subway provided. Just the darkness and I, alone at last. The sounds of the lowly rats scurrying along the filthy, trash-strewn tunnel floors looking for that evening’s meal. I could hear water somewhere in the emptiness, dripping down onto pitch-black concrete. Every one of my senses seemed heightened far above superhuman. I could smell the very mold coating the walls of this underworld. I heard the heartbeats of the same rodents pulsing ever so rapidly within their tiny little chest cavities. Even though the station was near total darkness, I saw everything from the little cockroaches scampering in the shadows, even a spider building its web in the angle created by the pillar and the ceiling above.
I could feel the cold, wintery air on my skin as I stood at the base of the stairs leading back into the city above me. It felt… right. Yeah, it all felt so positively perfect. It felt like home.
Suddenly, it hit me like a wildfire in California, that fabulous scent that has been following me from the start. It flooded into my insignificant, black corner of reality like a light fog and enveloped my very being in its essence. Good heavens, it was magnificent.
I heard him before I saw him. He came slinking down the very stairs I myself had come down mere moments before. The smell of must and alcohol rolled off of him in an aura that I could almost see. I slid deeper into the shadows and watched him as he stumbled onto the station’s platform. He mumbled to himself as he lurched his way further into the dimly lit subway station.
I could care less about the mumbo jumbo this pathetic excuse for a human was uttering. The only thing that spiked my interest was that blessed aroma. It rose off of him like a disease. It seeped from every pore like sweat, drowning out that sickening odor of old wine and urine.
A rat cried out down on the tracks but I paid it no heed. The only thing my mind was concerned with was that beloved scent, which filled the air around the staggering bum before me. I stared at him a while longer, watching as he toppled over an upturned trash can falling head over heels onto the dirty platform floor.
I heard the sickening thud of the man’s head hitting the concrete floor. It wasn’t hard enough to knock him unconscious, but it shook him up well enough all the same. He attempted feebly to lift himself off the hard ground, grumbling incoherently all the while. I heard the soft patter of liquid trickling onto the platform as he lifted his dazed head. The smell exploded into the darkness like a bomb. Finally, the aroma that has hounded me over and over again was here, a mere few feet from where I stood.
The smell of fresh blood.
It was absolutely amazing. Nothing has ever churned my senses as that delightful fragrance. The hum in my head turned into a chorus of voices, each screaming for me to move forward, to bathe in that sweet perfume as though it were a flowing spring.
From somewhere within the subterranean caverns around me, I could hear the thunderous roar of a late night subway train as it barreled its way through the tunnels. The ground trembled as it drew ever closer to our current location. The noise was immense yet even that wasn’t enough to drown out the choir singing within my churning mind.
The bum was staggering uneasily to his feet. The blood slowly poured from the open gash on his already swelling and bruised forehead, yet he seemed to pay it no attention, possibly from years of previous experience. My eyes seemed drawn to the steadily flowing trickle of crimson falling wastefully onto his filthy garments.
I couldn’t stand it anymore. I fell upon him with tremendous gusto like a ravenous hound on a cut of raw meat. The lights from the oncoming train fell onto the upturned face of my prey and I could see the look of drunken confusion instantaneously turn into a look of absolute horror. Blood had oozed into his right eye giving it a deep red tint, but the look of alarm in both eyes brought the grandest feeling of ecstasy to me.
Gripping this lowly life form in my right hand, I thrust his pathetic head out over the track directly into the path of the swiftly approaching locomotive. The look of bewilderment on the face of my prey was priceless. I could smell the rancid odor of urine and feces as this piece of shit evacuated his last meal into his already mud-stained pants. He almost managed to generate a terror filled scream just seconds before the subway ripped his head clean off his shoulders. Even in death, his eyes were as wide as a deer trapped in oncoming headlights.
After the speeding transport fled from my vicinity, its roar fading into a distant memory, I pulled the now twitching carcass of my victim back from the rails and held its trembling form close to my face. Where once there was a balding skull with ratty gray hair, only a pouring geyser of crimson fluid remained. I drank in the torrent of fresh claret, savoring every delicate droplet. The spray was so intense that it fully coated my face and hair in its rosy hue. It pulsed from his neck hole as the last beats of this drunken bastard’s heart slowly fell silent beneath my grasp.
Everywhere I turned, the overpowering smell of fresh blood was remarkable. When it stopped pumping out of the now vacant neck, I sunk my teeth into the tender flesh there and began to suck deeply upon the juicy meat that remained. My teeth felt too long for my mouth to contain as if they had grown here in the darkness. Yet they fit perfectly into this man’s now still corpse.
I suddenly knew everything about this man, like what he did to a little girl in the sixth grade behind the school’s playground. I even knew about how he was somewhat attracted to that new young man in accounting back when he was still working for a now defunct law firm ten years prior.
My head was swimming in the amazing splendor of it all. And for once, the horrible whispering in my mind had fallen silent. There was so much power flooding through me, I thought that I would explode with it. I closed my eyes and simply let it wash over me, not moving fearing I would fall onto the blood-soaked concrete below.
Once I was certain I would be okay, I tossed the lifeless remains down onto the subway tracks like an empty soda bottle. I slowly stumbled over to one of the many pillars holding the ceiling above my head and slid limply down onto the floor. There is where I dozed for a moment until I awoke a short while later knowing that this experience definitely needed to go into this fucking journal. Just thinking about the shear surge of energy flowing throughout my body… I shiver at the prospect of my next meal. However, the hour is getting late. I will just have to contain my hunger until I am able to feast again.
