It’s too dark, I can’t see a thing. One moment I was laying in bed listening to some sweet jams and the next it’s pitch black with not a sound to be heard, save for the thunder outside. Well, whatever it must just be your bog standard blackout on account of the storm. I unlock my phone to switch songs and see the the battery is at 15%...knew I should have been charging it when I had power. Oh well, might as well make the most of whatever battery I had left. “No Rain” by Blind Melon played it my ears, damn station has no taste in music, but I won’t risk the wasted battery life by changing songs, might as well roll with it. After all, the song’s not that bad just kind of unfitting for this situation. Now, if it was “Nothing Else Matters” by Metallica or “Subterranean” by Foo Fighters, that would be another story. The somber tones would fit this blackout quite well, unlike the pretty plain life of “No Rain”. Still annoyed at this moment’s music selection, I hear a noise originate from the kitchen. It was sort of a loud bang followed by a scream as if someone dropped something. Nobody was supposed to be home, so I went to investigate.
Rounding the corner of my room into the hallway was oddly menacing. Lighting crashed through the windows, periodically illuminating the narrow passageway, revealing all the secrets it held. Although I was just going to the kitchen, the short walk through the hall seemed as if it had lasted decades. The thunder and lighting disoriented my senses with every crash and boom, making the hall seem yards longer at each glance. The calm smooth sounds of “No Rain” was a pleasant feeling of relief that kept me grounded to the real world amidst the otherworldly darkness and unpredictable pattern of the elemental orchestra outside. Each step brought the creak of floorboards beneath my feet and an unyielding feeling of dread as to what I’d find in the kitchen, but every stroke of the guitar in “No Rain” would shush away the dread and replace it with the gentle crooning of the lead vocals. Then I made it to the kitchen.
There it was, digging furiously in the unlit refrigerator. The only thing keeping me in the real world was “No Rain”, but then my phone died. It went out with a flash of light, allowing me one glance at the assailant. The nearly 7 foot tall abomination of nature was hairy in some places but fleshy in others. It stood on two feet like a human with the head of a boar and the torso of a grizzly bear. I’ve heard of the description, but from what I’ve seen it has only been referred to as “The Porker”. Terrified that the flash from my phone alerted the Porker to my presence, I dashed around the corner to my room, once again into the pitch black environment of the hallway but this time without the comforting sounds of “No Rain”. The Porker raced after me with the speed of a thousand leopards and the ferocity of a starving hound. The thunder became more intense and boomed in the sky as I inched closer and closer to the sweet sanctuary of my room, but the seemingly never ending hallway just kept going and going without end. After what seemed like hours I lay eyes on the door to my room only to find that it wouldn't budge. That’s when it hit me. The semi truck sized Porker dive bombed me, causing us both to fall to the floor in a bloody spiral of chaos. I felt the sharp claws and teeth dig into my insides, sending various liquids flying in all directions.
But then I woke up to the crash of thunder and the calm words of “No Rain” with my 60 pound dog, Bosco, licking my face, sending various liquids flying in all directions.