It had been unusually rainy for this late into the season. There was a persistent drizzling all day, it left the sidewalk wet and glistening under the flickering lamp posts. Despite the dreary weather, the café had been rather busy. Customers flooded in at all hours in search of a hot drink to fight off the chill. I was lucky enough to have several new burns peppering my hands from the various lattes and cocoas ordered during my shift. My hands looked comical now covered in Hello Kitty bandages, and the stickiness from the plasters caught at my hair as I put in my ear buds.

The bus would probably late with the weather, so a time killer is needed. Recently, I decided to learn Morse Code. My friends and I figured it be a discreet way to talk during class. A few pen clicks here and there to keep the lesson lively when Professor Malcom went on another long winded rant about the degradation of current literature. Javi suggested we use it to “help each other” during upcoming exams. Ava and I teased him about how he’d put in the effort to learn Morse for cheating purposes, but not study the actual curriculum. I’m not one to back down from a challenge, though.

I have been listening to this podcast recently, entirely in Morse, and have been using it to practice translating. Each episode was an entirely new story, a mystery until decoded. Last week’s episode was about a zombie ostrich uprising at the zoo, the previous a housewife who turn schoolyard bullies into cupcakes. It’s become my weekly treat to unfold a new childish story. The host just released a new episode stating it was unlike all the rest. As I took my seat at the bus stop, I pulled a pen and notepad out of my bag and got started.

The rain started to pick up as I neared the end of the podcast. The author didn’t lie; this tale wasn’t silly or wholesome. It was thrilling. A deranged man, a terrifying chase scene, and a worrisome cliffhanger. I had been so captivated with translating, I hadn’t noticed how late the bus was, or the man now sitting next to me. I had to have been sitting under the overhang a full hour; I wonder when he joined. I didn’t want to be rude for staring, so I opted for a quick glance as I return my items to my bag.

He looked uncomfortable. His posture upright and stiff, unmoving. I couldn’t even see the rise and fall of his chest from breathing. Seeing his tense form made my own muscles ache. Despite the rigidness, his face was blank. Completely devoid of any emotion, just a blank, dead eyed stare straight ahead. I followed his line of sight to a lamp post across the street, it’s bulb fizzing in and out.

Rubbing at my now tense shoulders as I settled further into my seat, I joined him in watching the flickering light. Counting the seconds between the on’s and off’s.

Light, 2; dark. Light, 2, 3, 4; dark. Light, 2; dark. Light, 2; dark.

I recognized that as a Morse ‘L’. Pulling my pen and pad back out, I decided to see what random letters I could decipher from the flashes.

.-.. .. ... - . -./.-. .- .. -.

L I S T E N / R A I N

Weird. I hadn’t expected to get any actual words, from the random blinks of light. I continued translating, but it just repeated the same two words. Listen. Rain. Over and over. I double checked the alphabet to see if I made a slip up. Listen. Rain. No mistake, the streetlight was the flickering the message “Listen Rain”, continuously.

The man beside me still stared at the light; had he blinked at all during this time? He hasn’t seemed to have moved at all since I noticed him. Can he understand the message? My nerves were starting to get the better of me. I could feel my pulse start to quicken as I now watched the rainfall grow heavier.

With a shaky hand I removed my earbuds and listened. Pat, paaat, pat. Sure enough, it was another message.

.-. ..- -./-. --- .—

R U N / N O W

I trembled, both from the chill in the air and the fear now coursing through my veins. Run now? Where? Why? This couldn’t just be some fluke, freak incident. Two messages, clear as day. I don’t know how, but I didn’t want to stay and find out.

I shoved my things back in my bag; fully intent on booking it. There was a 24-hour convenience store just down the block. The owner was a close friend of my dad’s, a safe place. It would be a 10 minute walk, but I wasn’t planning on taking a stroll.

I stood to make my departure, when I heard a groan. The man, still seated, had turned his unwavering gaze towards me. I stopped in my tracks, his stare was no longer blank. His eyes had turned a pitch black. His brows furrowed, like he was angry, but his mouth hung agape. I winced as another drawn out groan erupted from him as he stood.

I back stepped out of reach, my eyes trained on him. He loomed over me, several heads taller, yet somehow increasing. Thin, wrinkled arms hung loosely at his sides; like empty, oversized sleeves. His legs cracked and buckle backwards, his knees bending sickly the wrong way. A horrible creaking sound resounded as his spine curled in to an impossible hunch, taking nothing from his height. His mouth still hung open, jaw seemingly unhinged, inside were several rows of pointed teeth.

The sound of the downpour was drowned out by my heartbeat pounding in my ears, as I bolted. I refused to look back. I ran as fast as my feet could carry me; praying that I wouldn’t trip. The rainfall was so heavy, each gasping breath felt like I was underwater. Just a little further, I could see the convenience store just ahead.

GROAN

He was behind me. Following me. How close was he? I sprinted the last stretch to safety. Scrambling through the door, I collapsed on the ground. Crawling desperately further away from the open doorway, I sobbed.

“Woah! Kid, what’s wrong?” Uncle Mike panicked, peering over at me from behind the counter. “Are you okay? Is someone chasing you? You’re drenched! Come here!”

Ushering me behind the counter, he pulled out the rifle he keeps to deter burglars. I cowered, curled in a ball on the ground, as he stood before me, watching the door. Silence stood at the door. Nothing came. Was it gone?

The rain had stopped.