The Shadows

By Scott Vetter

George Thompson was your average hard working man until he began experiencing life-changing dreams where shadow-like people are stalking him along with unexplainable incidents. The dreams seem so real; however, they could just be his imagination or possibly side effects caused by the sleeping pills his doctor prescribed him after his fathers death. The dreams and bizarre incidents are forcing him to seek for the truth before he goes insane; he must find out why these strange events are happening to him. He needs to find out if the shadows are real and what his life really means!

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris US
• Release date: Nov 27, 2013
• ISBN: 9781493124206

Scott Vetter

My name is Scott Vetter, I was born in Newport News Virginia. I've lived in central Florida my entire life, and I am an up and coming author. The main reason I like to write is because of Stephen King and Dean koontz. I am drawn to the mystery and horror they put out. The things I love to write about are suspenseful and horror. The Shadows is something I've been working on for a long time and I am proud to have it out finally. I do hope everyone enjoys and there will be more to follow.

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Copyright © 2013 by Scott Vetter.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the copyright owner.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

Rev. date: 11/21/2013

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THE SHADOWS

I T WAS THE middle of the night and George was suddenly jolted from his sleep; he was spinning wildly around the ceiling. He saw his girlfriend, Stacy, below still sound asleep, oblivious to what was happening to him. He also saw a shadow, shaped like a man, crouched in the corner of the room. It wasn’t moving but George felt its eerie stare on him.

What do you want from me? He wildly screamed.

The shadow didn’t respond and remained unmoving in the corner.

This has got to be just another one of my bad dreams. He whispered nervously, trying to convince himself he really wasn’t hovering above his bed with a human-like shadow, watching him but seconds later, he descended from the air and crashed onto the bed. His crash landing abruptly woke up Stacy.

What was that? George, are you okay? She breathlessly asked.

He gave Stacy a reassuring rub on the shoulder and lied to her.

I’m fine, just another bad dream. Try and go back to sleep, babe.

Once Stacy drifted back to sleep, George rolled out of bed and went into the bathroom. He splashed cold water on his face thinking it might help snap him out of the groggy, drunken state the dream had left him. His ankles were throbbing with pain and it felt like someone or something was squeezing both of them tightly. He leaned down to rub them and his heart stopped, he saw bruises around both of his ankles in the shape of hands. He immediately began second guessing what happened earlier was just a dream. Maybe it was real and maybe the shadow was real too? He felt like he couldn’t breathe. His head was spinning in circles too, which made him feel drunk again. He stumbled out of the bathroom calling for Stacy and while walking toward the bed, something thick and wet began dripping onto his stomach. He reached up and touched his face, attempting to locate the origin of the moisture. It was coming from his nose; he was having another nose bleed.

What the hell is going on? Every time I have these bad dreams, my nose bleeds! He angrily mumbled under his breath.

He went back into the bathroom, grabbed some toilet paper, and held it to his nose tightly. He caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror. He was only twenty-six years old but lately looked and felt like he was sixty. There were dark circles under his eyes and his face looked ashen and sunken in. He had always taken care of himself and his appearance. He exercised almost daily and was as fit as most athletes. He stood over six feet tall with thick glossy black hair that hung to his shoulders and the most unusual light brown eyes which always made women stop and stare. His skin color, up until this point, always had a tanned glow to it. The color showed off his perfect white smile capable of melting any woman’s heart regardless of her age. All of this was changing though because of the stress caused by the dreams.

George began having the recurring dreams almost two months ago. They affected his sleep, which in turn, hindered his performance at work and was affecting his appearance so he thought it was best to see a doctor. A friend of his recommended seeing someone who specialized in sleep disorders and gave him the phone number of the doctor his ex-wife had seen a few years back for her insomnia. The doctor’s name was Thomas Green; he was a tall thin man who was in his early fifties. He was soft spoken but had an air of authority about him, which George liked, and his personality made it easier to open up and talk about the dreams. He was hopeful the doctor would be successful in stopping them but after a few visits with no progress, he prescribed George sleeping pills, which he took faithfully every night. However, even with the medication, the dreams continued and were becoming worse and after this last dream, his bruised ankles and another nosebleed, he had no doubt in his mind he needed to see his doctor immediately.

Maybe he could prescribe a different medication, one that would actually work? George sarcastically mumbled to himself.

He waited impatiently for the doctor’s office to open and called precisely at eight o’clock. He explained to the bubbly receptionist how imperative it was he sees the doctor as soon as possible. Thankfully, he was in luck, another one of the doctor’s patients had cancelled an appointment for eleven o’clock the same day. He arrived thirty minutes early and anxiously waited to be called into the doctor’s office. Once seated in one of the oversized chairs, he immediately shouted out his frustrations.

What the hell Doc, every time I have one of these dreams, my nose starts bleeding!

The doctor tried to reassure him it wasn’t unusual and there was a good explanation.

Try and calm down George, nose bleeds can be caused from several different factors, lack of sleep and stress are two of them in which you are experiencing. Are you still taking the medication I gave you?"

Yes, Doctor Green, I am still taking them daily but they don’t seem to be working. George exasperatingly answered.

The doctor, with confidence, told him he needed to give the medication time to build up in his system and once it did, the dreams would stop. George wasn’t as confident and was becoming discouraged at the length of time it was taking. He wanted his normal life back but understood he didn’t have much choice but to do as the doctor ordered and just wait.

After his session, George decided to wait outside for Stacy, even though it was in the upper eighties. This summer was unusually hot and humid, which he didn’t mind as much as most people. He liked the heat. It reminded him of the summer vacations he took with his father in Florida. He remembered how depressed he would get when it was time to go home which was located in Upstate Virginia. Every year his father was forced to listen to him, say as soon as he turned eighteen years old, he was moving out, heading south and living on the water.

Don’t let the door hit you in the ass on the way out. His father would always say while laughing at him.

While he was absorbed in his memories of his vacations with his father, Stacy pulled up to the curb and honked the horn. Earlier that morning, he tried to convince her he was fine and capable of driving himself but she thought it was best he didn’t since his nose was still bleeding off and on. He was irritated she was treating him like a child but was aware he would never win the fight so he reluctantly gave in and allowed her to drive him. He slid into the passenger seat and put a fake smile on his face for her. She immediately started with her questions that he wasn’t in the mood to answer.

Hey baby, how was it today?

Oh you know, the same thing as usual, we just talked about sleep methods and eating healthy foods. He lied.

He refused to give her the real details of his sessions since in his opinion she worried too much about him. On the drive home, she chattered incessantly about the dinner party she was giving that night.

Great, a night filled with women’s emotions and relationship problems! George thought to himself. All he wanted to do was go home, get in bed, and sleep but there was no way Stacy would allow him to miss all of the women festivities. Stacy’s friends, Katherine, Erica, and Claire, arrived promptly at six o’clock. The three women were her closest friends and all in their middle twenties and extremely beautiful just like her, however George thought they were all too emotional, which made it difficult for him to be around them for any more than an hour at one given time. Katherine Estevez was Hispanic with a tall and slender build. She had beautiful thick black wavy hair that hung just below her shoulders. She was the most timid of the bunch and was a pediatric nurse at the local hospital. Erica Smith was shorter than all of them and definitely the curviest with big breasts she had saved up her tips to buy and was very proud of; she loved to show them off by wearing low cut, tight shirts at all times. She waitressed at a little Mom and Pop diner called Fishy’s located right outside of town. It was famous for its fried catfish and always had customers lined up for it. Lastly, there was Claire Thomas who resembled Stacy; she had a perfect body and big bouncy blonde curls that hung almost to her waist. He eyes were big and round and their color mimicked a sea-green ocean you would find down in the Caribbean islands. She managed her father’s large car dealership, Thomas Motors. George was convinced the only reason he gave her the position was because of how extremely aggressive she could be and it didn’t hurt she could talk anyone into buying anything. He personally felt she was too pushy but did have to admit she was an incredible cook.

So Claire, since you’re the best chef out of all you women, what do you plan on cooking for me tonight? George teased her.

She didn’t seem to mind; in reality, she loved receiving attention from him.

I wanted to cook my famous fried chicken but since you have to eat healthy, I’m going to make baked chicken with stir-fry veggies instead.

She winked at him and didn’t waste any more time before beginning to prepare her masterpiece while gulping down a glass of wine. He excused himself so he could go out to his shop located right beside the house. He was in the mood to tinker around with his motorcycle. It helped take his mind off the dreams. As he walked away, he overheard Claire whispering to Stacy.

"So what did the doctor say about George? Is everything okay?"

Stacy reassured her he was fine and the doctor ordered he get more sleep, eat healthier foods, and give the medication a chance to build up in his system. Erica being the outspoken one couldn’t help but reply with a sarcastic remark about his condition.

Let’s hope so, Stacy, because we all would hate to see you end up with a nutcase after five years!

Erica! That is so rude! Stacy snapped back at her.

Claire tried to defuse the awkward conversation by convincing Stacy that all of them cared about George and was just worried about him. He had heard enough of what Stacy’s friends thought of him so he stopped eavesdropping and headed out to his shop.

George’s father had passed away a few months ago from brain cancer, but when he was alive, he loved to work on his motorcycles which is where George acquired his passion for it. His father loved it so much he decided to make a living out of it and opened his own repair shop and as soon as George was old enough to walk, he was right there helping his father. After he died, George got the shop since he was an only child and his mother had left when he was just a young boy. His father offered no explanation why she left even though he asked about it all the time. When he was younger, he would push the issue but as he got older, he could see the pain it caused his father to talk about her. He learned to accept the fact she was gone and it really didn’t matter why. He didn’t remember much of her anyway, but his father was a different story, he was his best friend and he took his death very hard. Stacy was convinced it was the main reason he was having the dreams however George adamantly disagreed since his father was in none of the dreams. His mind wandered to his dreams again and he began fretting over the bruises, shaped like handprints, on his ankles again.

How could I get bruises like this while I was sleeping? Maybe I did it to myself and I really am going crazy?" He asked out loud.

While pondering his mental state, he was startled by something in the corner of the shop slamming onto the ground causing him to jump three feet in the air. Lack of sleep had him feeling very edgy and apprehensive about everything. He hastily walked towards where the noise came from and was relieved to find that a can of screws had fallen off the shelf. He laughed at himself for being so paranoid and his breathing slowed back down to normal but then he felt a blowing sensation across his back. He slowly turned around and thought he saw the shadow from his dreams standing right behind him. He was frightened of it but at the same time, couldn’t take his eyes off of it. The longer he stared, the more vivid the shadow became. It almost felt like the shadow was streaming thoughts into his head because all sorts of strange thoughts began running through his mind but were gone as fast as they entered. He, once again, felt the squeezing sensation in his chest making it difficult to breathe. He thought he would surely die right there on the floor of his shop. He wondered how long it would take before Stacy would find his body. After what seemed like forever, he was able to catch his breath and quickly leave the shop before the shadow had the chance to come back again.

Shortly after dinner, Stacy’s friends left and she went to bed leaving George wide awake to stare at the walls and wonder why this was happening to him. He was in such a deep trance he had to force his body off the couch in order to snap out of it and fetch a glass of water from the kitchen. He made it halfway down the hallway, when he felt the blowing sensation on his neck again however this time, immediately after, felt a sharp pain in the middle of his back. It was as if he was being violently pinched or maybe even stabbed and then all of a sudden, he was pushed to the floor. He began screaming, but no sounds came out of his mouth. All he could think about, as he laid there, was whoever or whatever was doing this to him, was going to kill him this time and maybe even Stacy too. He couldn’t allow that to happen, he had to find a way to get up. He tried to move and felt the stabbing pain in his back again and fell face first onto to the floor. He was in severe pain by this time and heard, what sounded like his voice, let out a blood curdling scream and when he opened his eyes, he was lying in a hospital bed. Stacy was there along with Dr. Green. They were standing near the hospital room door whispering to each other trying not to wake him.

Babe, what happened to me, where am I? George asked in a disoriented state.

You were sleepwalking and tripped over the rug and fell through the glass coffee table. You are very lucky to be alive and only have a few pieces of glass in your back.

Sleepwalking, I have never done that before in my life! George hollered in shock.

The doctor explained that, more than likely, it was caused by the medication he was taking and it was probably an isolated incident; he wasn’t too concerned about it happening again but was going to take him off the sleeping pills and try something a little milder. The more the doctor and Stacy talked, the more irritated George became because he was absolutely certain he had never went to sleep that night so it was impossible to have been sleepwalking. He didn’t know if he should speak up and tell them the truth or not. Stacy already thought he was going crazy but he just couldn’t stop himself; he wanted to get the truth out there, besides, if he wanted to get better, he needed to be honest.

Dr. Green, please trust me, I never went to sleep last night. I got up from the couch to get a glass of water but when I was in the hallway, someone stabbed me in the back and I know that’s what happened. The Doctor stared at him with an expressionless look on his face before responding in his usual calm and methodical manner.

George, there is no evidence showing that you were stabbed by someone however there is evidence that you fell through the glass coffee table, it is broken and there is glass everywhere in the living room.

George gave up trying to convince them of the truth. Frustrated, he rolled away, placing his back to them and didn’t utter another word. He would just have to deal with this all by his self.

He was released from the hospital later that afternoon with a prescription for a different type of sleeping pill and orders to rest and not to return to work for seventy-two hours. He also needed to refrain from heavy lifting because of the stitches in his back. When they arrived home, he prepared sandwiches while Stacy took a bath. After being together for almost five years now, he knew that she only did this when she was stressed and it was all because of him. He went from window to window and door to door looking for any sign of a break-in but found nothing; he just couldn’t understand how this could be possible unless he really was losing his mind.

Maybe I really did fall through the table. He mumbled.

If the doctor was right and all of the freaky episodes he was experiencing was caused by the sleeping pills, he wanted to throw away them away immediately. He didn’t even want to wait until Stacy was finished with her bath. Determined, he knocked on the door and asked if he could come in and get his bottle of pills. She hated when he walked in without knocking and after receiving her approval, he snatched the bottle out of the bathroom cabinet and flushed all of the little pink pills down the toilet and watched as they swirled around before disappearing with the water.

There is no way in hell I’m going to go through another event like last night. He silently promised himself.

He was also convinced since the visits with Dr. Green didn’t seem to be working, he was going to discontinue seeing him as well. He thought it would be best if he dealt with the dreams on his own. He wasn’t sure how yet, but he would figure it out as he went. He sincerely hoped his decision wouldn’t anger Stacy but it was ultimately his decision and she would just have to accept it and try to understand his rationale behind it. He watched her as she shaved her legs and figured now was as good as any to break the news.

Babe, I’m going to call the doctor tomorrow and let him know that I’m not going to come in for a while.

She was dumbfounded by his decision and thought it was a reckless move on his part.

Why would you do a stupid thing like that? She screeched at him.

It’s just that since I started seeing him and taking those pills, things have become worse and maybe it would be better if I just stayed away for a little while.

As much as she hated to admit it, she agreed with him

You do have a point about things getting worse so I guess you need to do what you think will be best for you and for me.

George reassured her that he was making the right decision and everything was going to be okay. She smiled up at him and he couldn’t help but notice how pretty she looked lying in the bathwater with soap suds all around her body.

I must say ma’am, you look pretty damn sexy with all those suds running down your body.

She sheepishly laughed and invited him to join her. This was the first time in five years she asked him to take a bath with her. He found it strange since she knew he couldn’t because of the stitches in his back but didn’t dwell on it. Instead, he politely declined but sat on the side of the tub and washed her back. She was being overly sweet to him, which made him hopeful it would be a great night. He needed one. For the rest of the evening, she made him feel like a king. She gave him a foot massage and cooked his favorite meal, which included medium rare steak with a brown sugar bourbon marinade, garlic mashed potatoes and green bean casserole.

They went to bed early, both very tired from the stressful day they had due to George’s sleepwalking incident however as tired as he was, he still tossed and turned for hours. Beyond frustrated and in pain from the stitches in his back, he glanced over at the clock sitting on Stacy’s nightstand; it was almost two o’clock in the morning. He could hear the rain beating against their bedroom window. He decided to go out and sit on the porch for a while thinking maybe the sound of the rain and the fresh air would relax him enough to put him to sleep. Especially since nothing else seemed to be working. He just couldn’t get his mind to shut down and stop rehashing all that was happening to him. At least when he was taking the medication he was able to fall asleep easily but being outside usually would do the trick for him so he’d give it a try. The sounds of nature were soothing and peaceful to him, unlike the television Stacy demanded be on all night. She swore it was the only way she could go to sleep but it did the totally opposite for him. It kept him awake and tensed up. He closed his eyes and listened to the peaceful sound of the rain hitting the tin roof on the porch. Before he knew it, Stacy was standing over him and yelling to wake up but no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t open his eyes. His heart started to race and beads of sweat formed on his forehead.

Oh no, please not again, not another dream! I don’t think I can handle anymore! He screamed.

He wasn’t sure how much time had lapsed but thankfully, he was finally able to open his eyes. He saw Stacy standing on the porch staring at him. She looked bewildered and, at the same time, agitated.

What the hell are you doing? What are you doing out here? She ranted.

Babe, I’m fine, really. I came out here last night because I couldn’t sleep. I thought I would just get some fresh air and I must have just fallen asleep.

Stacy continued to read him the riot act making sure he was fully aware of how much he scared her.

Good God, you scared the hell out me! When I woke up and you were gone, I thought I was going to walk into the living room and find something crazy again or even worse, you dead!

He did his best to calm her down and convince her there was nothing to worry about and everything was fine. She turned around and headed back into the house yelling behind her. "Don’t forget Josh is coming over today."

George had forgotten he was coming over to help set up the feeders for deer hunting season. Josh and George had been best friends for over ten years and when it was deer hunting season, the two of them lived in the woods even though Josh had gotten married a few years ago and had two little boys. It was the best time of the year, according to them, even better than Christmas. He showed up a little before noon in a great mood and ready to go to work. He asked George how things were going since he was aware of some of what George had been going through the past few months. George wasn’t in the mood to go into details because talking about it was tiring to him. He offered a generic response hoping it would suffice.

"Things are going okay, not perfect, but nothing in life is perfect."

Josh agreed and rolled right into one of his advice speeches he gave so freely to anybody who would listen.

I hear you, buddy, when Brittany and I were having our problems a few months ago and she left for those few weeks, I went to shit. I was always late for work, didn’t eat much and wasn’t sleeping at all. Now I know you’re in a different position than I was in, George, but maybe my advice could help you out.

Josh truly believed his advice was golden, even if it had nothing to do with the problem. George couldn’t help but laugh at him. He knew Josh meant well but couldn’t help but point out how different their situations were.

Josh, your wife left you for two weeks, I’m not trying to be rude but my woman is still here so I’m not quite sure exactly how your advice could help my situation which, by the way, is simply a few sleepless nights and weird dreams caused by the pills I was taking.

Josh agreed but still made a point to tell George if he ever wanted to hear his advice on the situation, just to let him know. After all of the irrelevant advice was doled out, they began looking for good feeder spots out in the woods that lined the backyard of George’s house. While setting up the feeders, Josh went right back to George’s situation; he just couldn’t leave it alone.

So, these dreams you’re having, what really are they? I mean, like what are you seeing that’s making you go crazy?

George wasn’t in the mood to have this conversation and was irritated with Josh for insinuating he had gone crazy.

I’m not going crazy and I already told you the dreams were caused by my medication.

He was hopeful his answer would satisfy Josh and he would drop the subject but because of experiences with him, he knew it was a fat chance.

I understand that but what are you seeing in your dreams? I mean, what are they about? Josh continued to urge.

This is the problem with having such close friends, when something happens they want to know all the details. George rolled his eyes and thought.

If he ever wanted to get the feeders put up, he might as well bite the bullet and tell Josh everything so he would cease with his annoying questions and work.

I was seeing some kind of shadows shaped like us but sort of different and they never got close enough to me in order to make out exactly what they were. It was like they wanted me to see them but then they didn’t, if that makes any sense.

Josh took a minute to think about this before continuing with more questions. He was anxious to know all about the shadow figures; if the shadows just stood there and looked at George or if they moved around and talked to him. He wanted all of the juicy details.

Sometimes they would just stand there and other times they would surround me and what felt like, experiment on me or something, it’s hard to explain. I know it all sounds crazy and I can see you smirking but please keep this talk between us, Stacy doesn’t know, she would definitely think I’ve gone insane if she found out. George offered as generically as possible.

Josh promised he wouldn’t say a word to Stacy or his wife about the