The Grey Man

The cabin in the woods had been abandoned for years, but one night, a candle burned in the window. Its sunset-colored glow met the runner’s eyes through naked branches and steady sprinkles of fine snow. She ran this trail every night, religiously, since she moved to Devil’s Thumb six years ago. But tonight, for the first time, she was stopped in her tracks along the trail.

The runner glanced over her shoulder, panting plumes of foggy clouds, and back toward the cabin. She thought about stealing a peek into the window but it was too dark to tiptoe around without snapping one too many branches and alerting whoever was inside the cabin. It’s probably just a homeless person who finally found some warmth and shelter. The runner told herself. So she filled her lungs and stomach with the bitter night air and continued down the trial toward the road. But she never made it out of the woods. She never made it home.

Weeks went by and there was no sign of her anywhere. Her husband cascaded signs around the city with “Come home, Talia.” “Have you seen Talia Burns?” every place he could. He begged news outlets and pleaded with podcast hosts to tell the story of the missing Talia Burns. Most nights were spent in the police station, staging sit-ins until more action was taken to find his wife. He grew weary, numb, and desperate. “Go home and get some rest, Ray.” Tears quietly streamed down his face as the policeman escorted him out. But he wasn’t ready to give up. So, that night, he decided to retrace Talia’s steps.

Dusk settled at the horizon as Ray pulled up to the entrance of the trail in his squealing red pick up truck. He pulled the sling to his rifle over his shoulder and used the other hand to grab his flashlight. He stood at the edge of the trail opening and the bits of sunlight still lingering in the sky were devoured by the darkness that lay beyond his feet. A knot swelled in his stomach and beads of sweat started to collect between the lines of his umber toned forehead. He scrambled to find the flashlight’s button and flicked it on into the endless abyss, illuminating only but a few feet in front of him at a time.

Step by step, he was swallowed by the night. Strange birds gurgled from every direction, spiderwebs cloaked Ray’s face and tickled his ears, branches snapped behind him like another soul was close by. Ray violently whipped around at every creak and snap, hoping to find some logical explanation for those dreadfully loud whispers of the woods. But his eyes only found trees whose leaves scraped the moon and the halo from his flashlight that was starting to flicker. Turning back was futile. He spun around so much that he couldn’t tell which way led back to the road.

The night crept on and just as Ray was about to give up and call for help, there was a quaint yet beautiful wood cabin with a candle lit in its front window. His eyes widened as he neared it. He hoped for at least a little help getting back to the road or that maybe whoever lived there saw Talia. As he mounted the stairs he wondered if being a large black man with a rifle would scare away the cabin’s residents, but he had come too far.

Knock. Knock. Knock.

Ray waited about 30 seconds for an answer before he tried again with another three wraps.

Knock. Knock. Knock.

Silence.

He bent over to steal a peek into the window for any sign of life. An arm rested on a chair behind a wall but he couldn’t see much else besides some outdated wallpaper.

“Hello?” He called out. “I live nearby in town. You may have heard that my wife Talia Burns is missing. I just want to know if you’ve seen her.”

More silence.

“She runs by here almost everyday... I don’t mean any harm, I just... I just...” his voice trailed off. Accepting defeat, Ray turned to leave.

A slow, steady creak whined behind Ray as his foot touched the soil again.

“Yes?” A voice asked.

“Ah, yes, thanks so much for answering, uh.” Ray turned back to find a man around middle age, standing at the doorway. He was tall but looked frail and grey. A red sweater vest and button up clothed his skinny body and Poor Richard Almanac glasses sat on the tip of his nose.

Ray swallowed. He was startled by the man’s ghoulish appearance.

“Yeah, um. I’m sorry for knocking so much but I’m- My wife. She’s missing. And um... look, she ran on this trail here everyday and I was hoping you had seen her. I know it’s a long shot but I had to try.”

The grey man stared right through Ray. Motionless. “Right. Sorry for bothering you. Have a good n-“

A big, toothy grin slowly spread across the grey man’s face. Ray’s heart skipped a beat as he tightened his fist around the sling that held his rifle to his back.

“Why, I’m so happy you’ve come,” the grey man drawled. His voice was like broken glass stuck in molasses. “Talia, isn’t it?”

“Right.” Ray wanted to leave but didn’t want to put his back to the grey man.

“Oh, that Talia is simply a doll.” His teeth were as grey as his skin. He looked like the walking dead.

“You know Talia?”

“Yes. Of course. She stopped here for tea on her way home every Friday. Chamomile. Right?” The grey man’s grin was fiendish.

“She uh- she never mentioned that.”

“Good. It was our secret.”

Chirping crickets filled the air between them.

“You must come in. I’ve wanted to meet you for some time now, Ray.” How did he know my name?

“You know my name.” Ray didn’t know if this was good or bad. “Of course. You’re all Talia talks about.”

Talks.

Good or bad, Ray knew he had to get into the cabin.

“Well?” The grey man stepped aside and motioned to the inside of the cabin.

“Uh, sure.” Ray climbed the stairs again and squeezed by the grey man. The grey man never broke his gaze from Ray, he stood stoic, grey lips slightly turned up as his glassy eyes followed Ray. Ray couldn’t help but notice the smell of cigarettes and bleach on the zombie-like man.

Once inside, Ray noticed the arm behind the wall. The same one he saw in the window. It hadn’t moved since. Ray took a seat as the grey man disappeared into the kitchen and returned with a kettle and tiny, classic tea cups.

“Would you like some tea, Ray?” The fiend grinned as he bent down.

“Uh, no. I’m fine.”

The grin disappeared in an instance. The grey man was upright now.

“It’s improper to refuse an offering while you’re a guest in someone’s home.”

Ray smirked. He was partly amused that the grey man didn’t seem the least bit intimidated by a tall, black man with a rifle. The other part was nerves. He took the cup from the tray and obliged the grey speckled host. It was fresh, smoke still gyrating from it. Ray curled his thick finger through the cup’s loop to escape the boiling heat as the grey man stood there watching with the tray resting on his palm. Ray knew what the grey man wanted but he was careful, he merely dipped his lips into the cup without taking a full swig. He couldn’t be sure, but Ray didn’t want whatever was in that cup.

Another gloomy grin spread across the zombie’s face before he finally put the tray down and sat opposite Ray. His chair was propped against the wall that hid whoever the limp arm belonged to. The candle flickered like a gust a wind came through but no windows were open.

“So, uh. Do you have a wife?” Ray asked.

“Me? Why, no. It’s just me.”

“Yeah? Then who’s that?” He motioned his head toward the wall behind the grey man.

Without looking away the grey man answered.

“Oh that’s my new best friend. She likes to sleep a lot so please knock more quietly next time.” Still grinning.

There was a sudden dryness in Ray’s mouth. His stomach turned a little bit but he cleared his throat and adjusted his seat and that quickly it went away. Must’ve been nerves.

“Sorry about that.” He paused. “So the night Talia went missing. Did you see her? Or anything?”

“Nothing out of the ordinary. She came, we had tea, and she was the perfect little teddy bear as always. Sweet and kind.”

The room began to spin. Ray clutched at his throat as the dryness turned to a drought. Clearing it didn’t work this time. His stomach twisted and turned and his wrist went limp causing the tea cup to clatter to the ground. He tried to quicken his breaths to keep up with the tightening in his chest but the deeper he breathed, the worse the burning got. Ray squeezed his eyes but one grey man became two. The room split.

“What-” he was panting, “what did you- ... what did you do to me.” Ray stood and pulled at the sling to bring his rifle to the front of his body. He didn’t know which one was the real grey man but he figured shooting both was a good place to start. But just as he got to his feet, Ray slipped on the tea he spilled and collapsed face first onto the rickety wooden floor beneath him. He couldn’t move. He was trapped. He was paralyzed. The grey man approached Ray’s hyperventilating body and murmured.

“I wish I could keep you. But you’re not quite right.” He sucked his teeth. “Oh well.”

Ray was losing consciousness, but before he faded, he saw the arm behind the wall again. This time, he saw enough of it to catch the tiny blue butterfly he knew all too well tattooed on it.

“T-... T-... Tal...” His eyes shut.

A few hours later Ray’s eyes started to peel open. The lights above him were dim but harsh to his sedated brain and made him squint. They didn’t make his splitting headache any better either. He tried to shield himself from the lights’ blazing rays but he immediately realized his arms were duct taped to the arm’s of the same chair he sat in earlier, but the room was different. Ray struggled for a few moments, jerking and pulling at the chair but it was futile. There were so many layers of tape and his limbs were terribly weak. He could feel the exhaustion creeping up just from that bit of movement.

“Ray.”

He stopped struggling and listened for that sweet voice he yearned to hear again.

“Ray, honey.”

Ray darted his eyes toward the voice and there was Talia’s face. He lit up and suddenly the pain was gone.

“T-Talia?” His bottom lip trembled as it sunk in. It was really her. The lighting was poor across the room and he couldn’t see all of her, but it was Talia.

“It’s me, baby.”

“Oh my G-” Ray hung his head and sobbed before looking back up at her. “Baby, I knew it. I knew you were alive. I knew it.” Tears streamed down his face. “Everything’s gonna be alright, baby, I promise. I’m gonna get us out of h-.”

“I love you, baby. But it’s too late.”

“Well! It’s good to see you’re finally awake.” The grey man slithered into the room and turned the rest of the lights on without warning.

Squinting again, Ray tried to make out the rest of the room. But there lay a sight that made him empty his insides. Talia’s arms and legs rested on the chair Ray saw when he first walked into the cabin. On the other side of the room was Talia’s body with blood-stained stitching where her arms once were and where now are cotton-stuffed limbs, bursting at the seams. Her once flawless face was carved down the middle and old blood dried and crusted along the swollen scar. Her carmel-colored eyes were gone, gouged out and replaced by black, lifeless orbs. That

was his precious Talia but he couldn’t look anymore. He couldn’t stand the sight. Ray retched and bent over in his chair as far as the duct tape would allow and shook his head repeatedly. It wasn’t possible. Flashes of Talia being cut limb from limb, sliced through the face and eyes ripped from the socket tortured his mind.

“This isn’t real.” Ray whispered. “How... how could you do something like this?!” He was yelling now.

“Now, Ray. It’s impolite to yell while you’re a guest in someone’s home.” The grey man was serious.

“Impo- YOU’RE SICK, YOU KNOW THAT?! YOU’RE A FUCKING PSYCHOPATH!”

The grey man stood still for a moment watching as Ray was stuck in taped to that chair, forced to have a mental breakdown in a straightjacket. For a moment the grey man thought back to when he was forced to endure the same as a young man. He remembered being desperate to leave the asylum or to even have a friend there. But they threw him in a padded room with nothing but his thoughts and a teddy bear. There was no use prolonging his guest’s suffering. He grabbed Ray’s rifle and pointed it between his eyes.

Ray stared down the barrel and cried his final words.

“Talia, I love you.”

“I love you too, Ray,” Talia whined, unable to produce tears anymore. The grey man pulled the trigger.

As Ray’s limb neck dropped his chin to his chest, blood poured from his skull onto his lap. The grey man propped the rifle against the wall again and Talia screamed out a guttural cry so sorrowful even the grey man’s eyes welled up. He sank to his knees beside Talia and rubbed his head against her cotton-stuffed leg and wrapped his arms around it.

“It’s okay, Teddy. We’re going to be okay.”

Talia continued to wail into the darkness her world now was and forever will be.