It was a dark and stormy night.

That’s how all horror stories start, right? Well this one is no different.

Back to the tale.

It was a dark and stormy night. The storm raged outside, the rain beating against my window. The wind howling through the trees, the thunder creating a chorus to the light show in the sky.

I was never afraid of storms, it’s like a renewal. It clears the air and allows the earth to feel calm and cleansed once more. No, it’s not the storm I feared, it’s what the storm brought with it. I was told stories as a child, stories of creatures and monsters that liked to lurk in storms. Snatching up people who dared venture out into them.

I never believed this of course, I thought it was just scary tales to make sure children didn’t trail in mud from playing out in the heavy rains.
That was, until I grew up. I noticed that with storms, came disappearances. So I started tracking them, each storm I tracked was followed by missing persons reports. Sometimes the occasional murder.

So I began to wonder. Is it coincidence, or were the stories true.

That brings us back to tonight. The storm still raging outside, angry and heavy and hungry.
I’d taken time off from my job, well. I’d called in sick after seeing there’d be a storm rolling in. Food poisoning I said, that’ll buy me a couple of days.

Tonight is the night, I will find out what is out there. If the stories are true.

I check my watch, 23:34, perfect. Living on the outskirts has its perks, I’m on the edge of the forest, not many houses nearby. It should be safe for the others, they’ll be asleep. Right? Whatever is out there will only come for me… Right?..

I shake my head to clear the intrusive thoughts. Time to go. I pull my hair into a messy bun, don’t want anything to be able to grab it if it’s hanging loose. I pull my rain coat off the hook on the back of the door and head downstairs to retrieve my hiking boots. Which I had the sense to waterproof a few days prior.

After pulling on my boots I grab the machete I stowed in the cupboard next to the door along with my heavy duty flashlight and backpack. Snacks and water won’t hurt, not sure how effective the bear spray in there will be though. I wish I’d ordered that GoPro, but it’s too late now.

Off I go, I step outside into the biting winds and the cold, angry rain. I close my door behind me, the keys left in the inside lock. If I need to make an escape, I don’t need to be fumbling around for keys.

I turn on my flash light and pull up my hood, tightening the strings so it won’t just blow off. One step, two step, three, four. Okay, I’m actually doing this. Why am I scared? They’re just stories right?

I make my way into the forest. It’s dark, even with my flashlight. Of course it’s dark, it’s stormy and near midnight. I jump at the sound of a branch snapping. I quickly spin and hear another branch snap. I look down at my feet and curse at myself. It’s you, fucking idiot.

I carry on heading deeper into the woods. I have no idea what I’m looking for. Nobody ever described these creatures. I could be looking for a vampire rabbit for all I know.

The howling of the wind through the trees is throwing me off. It’s everywhere, all around me. The mix of all the noise surrounding me, thunder, rain, wind, it’s hard to hear anything else.

The lighting flashes help a bit, I get a momentary burst of light and can see a little more. The shadows it casts are not so helpful. Mangled, creepy, almost like they’re dancing. Branches in the wind, that’s all.

Whispering. More howling. More thunder.
Wait… Whispering. How can a whisper seem so loud?
No no, that’s not the question I really want to ask. WHO is whispering is what I should be asking.

A shriek. Like metal being dragged over metal. Branches snapping. Which direction is it coming from? Shit shit, it’s getting closer. Fast.

I turn and run. This isn’t worth dying over. It’s just an animal. Yes, that’s what I’ll force myself to believe.

Running is tiring, difficult. Thick mud. Leaves. Tree roots. Don’t trip. Don’t trip. Don’t trip. I chant over and over in my head. I can hear it, it’s still following me. Wait, not it. Them. Unless it’s got 8 legs… I hope it’s not a giant spider. No, don’t be stupid. Wolves, it’s a pack of wolves. Run. Keep running. You’re almost home.

I burst through my door and slam it shut. Turning my keys and launching the deadbolts into place.
Deadbolt. What a name. It could mean I live or die. My door holds, or they get in through a window and then I have no time to unlock the door and escape. Deadbolt indeed.

I hear them outside now. Feet on the decking. Clack clack… Not just feel. Claws? Wolves. I’m stupid. It’s just fucking wolves.

I crawl over to the window and peek out through the very bottom of the blinds. Gotta be careful. Just in case. But it’s just wolves right?

I see nothing. Where did they go? Back into the forest? I can’t hear anything over my own heaving breathing and the storm now.

I sigh. Thank god. But fuck me, I almost got eaten by wolves. What a way t…

A shadow. What is that? Slowly moving past the window. From where I am I can’t pick out a shape apart from big, black blob.
The noise. What is that? Screeeee… Wait, it’s dragging its hand? Across my window. Long nails, claws. I don’t fucking know. But whatever it is, that noise is horrid. Like nails down a chalk board. Except it’s over glass.

Thuds and rattles. The door. It’s at the door!
I move from the window and stand next to the door. Machete in hand. Ready. Should I call the police? No. It might hear. I hold my breath and wait. More thuds. How long have I been stood here? A minute? Five? 25? I don’t know.

Outside is calming. The wind isn’t howling anymore. The rain isn’t beating against the windows anymore. Wait, the thudding has stopped. Have they gone?

I slide down the wall and sit on the floor. Guess we will find out.

I don’t know how long I sat there before I nodded off. Next thing I know I’m awake by my phone alarm. Ugh. I forgot to turn it off yesterday when I called in sick.

7:30. It’s light outside. I creep to the window and peek out. Renewal. Calm. Peace. Life. What’s that? Scratches. Four deep scratch marks along my window. So I didn’t imagine that…

The creatures in the storm are real. And they were here. I survived. But for how long? They know I’m here now. Will they come back the next time there’s a storm? I should prepare. Or go to a hotel when the next one hits.

The stories were true. There is something in the storm. I wonder, if gran saw them too, if that’s how she knew.
So believe me when I say, don’t be afraid of the storm, be afraid of what it brings. Pray you never get caught out in a storm. And if you do, good luck.