Running Shadows

During the final stages of our house renovation, we decided to extend our thanks to the diligent workers with an impromptu dinner, celebrating their tireless efforts with wine and food. Among them, there was a man named Carl. He walked with a limp, something not hidden when he had a little to drink, and started to share a tale from his youth. I listened to his story then and it still chills me to the bone, even now.

Carl started by saying that when he was a young man, just over twenty, he abandoned the life of tilling the fields in his small village and set out for the county town in search of work. But jobs were scarce and he, having no particular skills, met with numerous rejections.

During those days, he often went to bed hungry, making the streets his home. One evening, as twilight was creeping in, he found himself resting on a bench outside the county stadium. He was roused from his slumber by a hefty man who observed his youthful energy and questioned why he was always sleeping outside the stadium.

Carl, weary and desperate, confided his situation. The man, revealing he was in charge of the stadium, offered Carl a job as a security guard. The role was strictly for the night shift, running from 7 PM to 7 AM, but he would be paid daily and the wages were decent by the standards of the time. The arrangement seemed too good to be true but Carl, due to his dire circumstances, readily agreed.

The overseer gave him a quick tour of the stadium, handed him a set of keys, and introduced him to his new dominion. The arena had several indoor rooms encircling an outdoor track, surrounded by towering spectator stands. Nestled beneath the southern stands was a lightbox used for scoring. It was an ordinary, if somewhat run-down, stadium.

The county rarely hosted athletic events, so the stadium was mostly used for commercial exhibitions or school physical education tests. Carl's job was simple: check the rooms periodically, patrol the track, and ensure there were no fire hazards.

With the lack of surveillance technology in those days, and given that a small county stadium hardly attracted thieves, Carl found himself alone most nights. His work was uneventful and rather dull for a young man. The majority of his shifts were spent in solitude, reading magazines, while he spent his days sleeping in various hideaways. He never encountered a coworker, but the pay was prompt and substantial.

One evening, as he was dozing off in the entrance booth, he was awakened by a knock on the window. Groggy and disoriented, he found himself looking into the face of a young woman. By the light of the booth, she appeared thin, her skin Carl-kissed and features beautiful. As a young man himself, Carl was naturally polite to her.

He rubbed his eyes and asked her what she wanted. In a soft voice, she asked if she could use the track for some late-night training as she had an exam coming up. Carl glanced at the time – it was already past nine. Who would come to train at this late hour?

He told her that the stadium was closed and suggested she return when it opened the next day. The young woman's face fell, and she pleaded with him again. Carl, not wanting to see her upset and figuring it wouldn't cause any trouble, relented and let her in.

She thanked him and rushed off into the stadium. Carl found her movements slightly odd, but he couldn't quite put his finger on it. After she had disappeared, he returned to his booth to resume his nap.

He felt he had barely closed his eyes when he was woken again by another knock. The girl was back, thanking him and saying she had finished her training. He bid her goodnight and she left. When he looked at the time, it was almost midnight.

He didn't think much of the incident until several days later, the girl returned, asking him once more to let her use the track. Carl, remembering their previous encounter, allowed her in without hesitation. And so it went, with the young woman becoming a recurring figure, arriving always at the same late hour.

One day, after the girl had begun her run, Carl found his curiosity piqued. He felt an irresistible pull to connect with the girl.

So, he picked up his flashlight and headed towards the track.

When he got there, he saw under the moonlight a pair of long legs, slender and firm, gleaming with sweat, running lap after lap on the track.

However, his breath hitched in his chest, his head swam, and he passed out.

Because what he saw were only the legs – no upper body.

When he came to, he found himself back in the guard booth. Recalling what he had just seen, he could only chalk it up to a dream.

Before long, the girl was back, knocking on his window and thanking him politely.

Carl was taken aback, and could only tell her to go home quickly.

Looking at the girl's face, he was convinced that he was dreaming.

Just as the girl left the booth and started to walk away, he suddenly realized something and rushed out.

The girl had already walked far from the iron gate, but the lock on the gate was still intact.

As it turns out, every time the girl arrived, Carl would go out to open the gate, then naturally lock it again. However, every time she left, he would mysteriously forget to lock the gate.

So, how did the girl leave?

He watched her retreating figure, now understanding what had seemed off about her walk: when she walked, her upper body didn't move, only her legs did.

Carl paused his story at this point, taking a swig of his drink before continuing.

After the girl left that night, he spent the entire night huddled in his booth, shivering.

When he got off work at seven the next morning, he rushed back to the small hotel he had rented a few days earlier, wrapped himself in blankets, and fell asleep. The thought of his night shift filled him with fear.

By the time it was evening, the stadium manager was waiting for him at the entrance.

Carl went up to him and said he didn't want to do the job anymore.

The manager, after learning the reason, told him not to be superstitious.

Carl, who was a believer in ghosts and spirits back in his hometown, insisted on quitting.

With no other option, the manager asked him to stick around for a few more days, until he found a replacement. Reluctantly, Carl agreed.

The manager continued to pay him on time and in full.

A few days later, the girl didn't appear again.

One evening when he went to work, the manager was waiting for him at the security booth with a young man.

The manager told Carl that he didn't need to work that night, he had found someone to replace him, and he even gave him an extra day's wage.

Despite having worked there for many days, Carl felt a sense of loss. But looking at his replacement, a similarly impoverished young man, he felt no regret.

He thanked the manager, took his money, and left.

After that, Carl wandered around the county town for a few days. Not finding any suitable work, he finally decided to pack up and return home.

At least, he thought, he had earned some money. He could buy some things to take home, to show for his time away.

While he was strolling around the county town, he ended up near the stadium.

He saw a crowd gathered at the entrance, and there were police officers there too.

He pushed through to ask what was happening.

People told him that someone had died inside, a young man who had mysteriously died overnight.

Carl thought of the man who had replaced him, and he broke out in a cold sweat.

He asked urgently what the dead man looked like, but people shook their heads and said they hadn't seen.

After a while, the police brought out two body bags, not just one.

Carl realized then that he should be considered a person of interest, and he decided to go to the police station to make a statement.

He found the station and told the police everything he knew.

The police were bewildered. As per protocol, they asked him to identify the body, to confirm if it was the man he mentioned.

Carl felt a sudden dread. Nobody wanted to see a dead body, after all.

But there was no backing out now.

He went with the police, and sure enough, the body in the morgue was that of the man who had replaced him. Except it was only half a man. The police said that his lower half was still in the freezer, and there was no need to see it.

Back at the station, Carl described the man who had recruited them.

An elderly man sitting nearby suddenly grew frantic, saying it was impossible! He was the director of the stadium. The stadium was due to be demolished soon, and they hadn't hired any security at night, let alone a manager!

The police could only say they would investigate further, and asked Carl to stay in the county town for three more days. If no one contacted him by then, he could return home.

Three days later, no one had contacted him, and Carl caught a long-distance bus back home.

As the bus passed by the stadium, he could vaguely see the manager standing at the entrance, waving cheerfully at him.

Terrified, Carl didn't dare to breathe. He huddled in the bus all the way home.

When he got home, he started running a high fever. He dreamt of the manager and the running girl all night. When the fever broke, Carl found that his legs had stopped working properly. They felt heavy, as if he couldn't lift them anymore.

Many years later, he still remembered that incident. The stadium, he had heard, had a history of death even before he had arrived in the county town.

The victim was a girl. She had been attacked by a villain during her nighttime training. During her struggle, she fell from the bleachers onto the track and was cut in half by the steel cable anchoring a lighting fixture.

The villain mysteriously died at home, apparently scared to death.

That was where Carl's story ended. He was nearly out of drink by then. He said, in conclusion, that some stories are better left as just stories.

We sent off the workers, and Carl was the last to leave.

As I watched Carl hobbling away slowly, I felt like there were another pair of legs behind him, slowly, step by step, following him...