07 Oct The Erasure

Part I

The final echoes of children’s laughter faded down the street, blending with the rustling of dry autumn leaves as Simon stood on his porch, surveying the quiet neighborhood. The air was crisp, the scent of dying leaves and faint smoke from distant bonfires carried on the breeze. A soft smile tugged at his lips as he glanced down at the nearly empty candy bowl. Just a few stray pieces of cheap chocolate and lollipops remained—a testament to a successful night of trick-or-treating.

“Guess we did well this year, huh, Jasper?” he murmured, glancing down at his small dog. Jasper, a wiry little terrier mix with a perpetually scruffy coat, wagged his tail enthusiastically, clearly pleased by his master’s attention. Simon bent down and scratched behind the dog’s ears, then set the candy bowl inside the house and shut the door behind him.

The porch lights of nearby houses were beginning to flicker out one by one, signaling the end of Halloween festivities. The streets, which had been bustling with children in costumes just an hour earlier, were now quieting down. A few straggling families hurried past, herding kids dressed as superheroes and princesses toward parked cars. Jack-o’-lanterns still grinned eerily from porches and lawns, their flickering flames casting dancing shadows across the sidewalks. Simon took a deep breath, savoring the last few moments of the evening.

“Alright, let’s go for a quick walk before bed, boy,” he said, clipping the leash to Jasper’s harness. The dog immediately perked up, his ears twitching as he sniffed the brisk night air.

They set off down the block, passing houses adorned with cobweb-covered skeletons, inflatable ghosts, and one particularly elaborate display featuring a full graveyard setup. Gravestones poked out of overgrown grass, with plastic hands clawing up from the earth. Fog from a hidden smoke machine curled around the feet of a skeletal reaper, its glowing red eyes staring menacingly at anyone who dared walk past.

Simon chuckled softly. “Every year, the Johnsons go all out,” he muttered, glancing down at Jasper, who was more interested in sniffing the base of a plastic tombstone than the spectacle itself. A thought struck him, and he reached for his phone, thinking to snap a quick photo of the setup for later.

His fingers closed on an empty pocket. He blinked, patting his other pocket, then sighed. He’d left his phone at home, probably sitting on the kitchen counter where he’d set it while preparing the candy bowl.

“Great,” he murmured. For a moment, he considered turning back—he never went anywhere without his phone, after all. But it was late, and the idea of doubling back for a device he didn’t need seemed silly. They were just going for a short walk.

“Come on,” he muttered, shaking his head. Jasper gave a little yip, oblivious, and Simon sighed. “Guess we’ll have to do without tonight.”

The neighborhood was alive with the remnants of Halloween: a few stray candy wrappers skittered across the pavement, caught in the wind, and porch decorations swayed lazily in the breeze. But as they moved further away from the main residential streets, the festive atmosphere began to fade. The sidewalks grew darker, the glow of jack-o’-lanterns and porch lights left behind.

They reached the corner of Maple and Fifth, where the path split. To the left lay the familiar, well-lit route back to their home. To the right, shrouded in shadow, was the entrance to the local park. Simon paused, glancing at the darkened trail leading into the park’s depths.

The park was an unsettling place at night. Tall oaks lined the narrow path, their branches weaving together overhead to create a dense canopy. The city had never bothered installing lights along the park’s inner trails, making it a relatively foreboding place once the sun set. In daylight, it was a quiet, peaceful retreat. But at night, it transformed—its secluded paths and dense foliage became an eerie maze of shadows.

Jasper looked up at him expectantly, ears perked. The dog gave a small, hopeful bark, as if to say, Let’s go.

“Really, bud? You want to go through there?” Simon hesitated, peering into the park’s entrance. A shiver ran down his spine, but he quickly shook it off. It was Halloween night. The atmosphere of the season, combined with the lingering silence of empty streets, was probably making him feel jumpier than usual.

“Alright, fine. A quick loop through the park, and then we’re heading back,” he decided, tugging Jasper’s leash gently and stepping onto the gravel path.

They moved forward, the sound of his shoes crunching on the gravel breaking the silence. Jasper trotted eagerly beside him, his tail wagging. Simon tried to relax, telling himself there was nothing to worry about. It was just a park, after all. He’d been through it dozens of times during the day. He had Jasper with him, and a dog’s instincts were supposed to be sharper than a human’s. If there was anything dangerous out here, the terrier would surely alert him.

As they ventured deeper into the park, Simon noticed how still everything was. The usual noises—rustling leaves, distant car horns—seemed to fade away. Even the breeze, which had been stirring just moments before, seemed to die down.

Jasper seemed to be enjoying himself, nose twitching as he sniffed along the edges of the path. But then, about a hundred yards in, he suddenly stopped. His entire body went rigid, ears flattening back against his head. Simon halted, frowning.

“What is it, boy?” he whispered, glancing around.

The shadows beyond the path were impenetrable, the trees forming a wall of black that swallowed their surroundings. Simon strained his ears, listening for anything unusual. But all he heard was the distant rustling of leaves in the breeze.

Then came a soft, almost imperceptible noise—a faint rustling, just off the trail to their right. Simon’s eyes narrowed as he peered into the darkness, trying to make out the source. He expected Jasper to bark or growl, but instead, the dog took a step back, his tail tucked tightly between his legs.

“Hey, it’s alright,” Simon said, his voice low and soothing. He knelt beside Jasper, stroking the dog’s back. Jasper whimpered softly, his gaze fixed on the inky shadows beyond the path.

“Probably just a rabbit or something,” Simon muttered, but his own words didn’t comfort him. Jasper was normally fearless when it came to small animals. Something about the way the dog’s body trembled unnerved him.

“Come on, let’s keep moving.”

He stood up and tugged gently on Jasper’s leash, urging him forward. The dog resisted for a moment, then reluctantly followed, his movements stiff and uneasy. Simon quickened his pace, trying to ignore the growing sense of dread, fighting the instinct to turn and run in the opposite direction.

As they continued along the trail, the rustling sound seemed to follow them, just beyond the reach of the path. Simon glanced over his shoulder, but as before, there was nothing there.

After what felt like an eternity, the trees finally began to thin, revealing the outline of the park’s parking lot ahead. Simon breathed a quiet sigh of relief as they stepped out of the abject darkness and onto the cracked asphalt. Only one car sat in the lot—a small black sedan, parked just a few feet away.

Its engine was still running, a low rumble filling the air. The dome light was on, but the headlights were off. Simon hesitated, then chuckled softly. “Probably just a couple of teenagers fooling around,” he murmured. Jasper didn’t respond, staring warily at the car.

Drawing closer, Simon peered curiously through the slightly fogged windows. He expected to see two embarrassed teens spring apart, but the vehicle was completely empty. He blinked in surprise, then glanced around the lot. There was no one in sight.

“Weird,” he muttered. The car’s interior lights cast a soft glow, revealing a crumpled piece of clothing lying on the passenger seat—a bright-orange leotard with black stripes. Simon squinted, then let out a short laugh.

“Looks like someone’s having a good time,” he said with a grin, imagining the girl who must have shed her tiger costume for… other activities. He shook his head, a smile tugging at his lips. “Must have been some party.”

His amusement was cut short by a sudden, sharp noise from across the parking lot—a shrill, eerie shriek that made the hair on his arms stand up. The sound was high-pitched and wavering, like a child’s scream distorted through a broken speaker.

Simon whipped around, eyes wide. There was nothing there—just the darkened lot and the thick wall of trees beyond.

When he turned back to the car, the smile died on his lips. The costume—the orange leotard—was gone. The seat was empty, as if it had never been there at all.

“What the…?”

Jasper growled softly, then tugged at his leash, his body straining toward the far end of the lot, where the shriek had come from. Simon swallowed hard, glancing back and forth between the empty seat and the dark woods beyond the lot.

“Okay… Let’s—wait, no. Maybe we shouldn’t—”

But Jasper was insistent, pulling sharply at his leash, ears perked and eyes fixed on the darkness beyond. Simon felt a reluctant, creeping curiosity bubbling up inside him.

“Okay… Let’s check it out, I guess,” he whispered. “Bu then we’re out of here.”

Heart pounding, he took a deep breath and began moving hesitantly across the lot, following Jasper’s determined tug toward the source of the sound.

Part II

No sooner had Simon matched Jasper’s pace than another shriek reverberated through the still air, freezing them both in place. It was piercing and warbling—unnatural. He glanced down at Jasper, expecting the dog to react timidly like before, but this time was different. Jasper’s entire posture shifted: his ears snapped forward, his muscles tensed, and a low, rumbling growl escaped his throat.

“Jasper, wait—”

But before Simon could finish, Jasper bolted, his small frame lunging forward with a sudden burst of energy. The leash slipped through Simon’s fingers in an instant, and the dog shot across the parking lot, barking furiously at the darkness beyond.

“Jasper! No, stop!” Simon yelled, his voice breaking with panic.

Without thinking, he took off after the dog, his sneakers slapping against the cracked asphalt. The night closed in around him as he ran, the world shrinking to just the sound of his own rapid breaths and Jasper’s barks, which were quickly being swallowed by the eerie shrieking echoing from the trees.

“Jasper!” he shouted again, his heart pounding. His legs pumped furiously, his eyes straining to follow the little dog’s blurred shape. He felt completely exposed out here, like a solitary figure under a spotlight, every instinct in his body screaming at him to turn back—to get away from whatever was making that awful noise.

But Jasper didn’t stop. The terrier charged headlong toward the far end of the lot, where another vehicle—a dark SUV—was parked just beyond the tree line. Simon’s pulse spiked. Had that been there before?

Jasper’s barks grew frantic as he reached the vehicle. The dog circled it once, yapping and snarling at the woods behind it. Simon skidded to a halt, panting, just a few feet away.

The shrieking was deafening now, a harsh, grating sound that seemed to come from all around them. Simon’s eyes darted to the SUV, its dark windows reflecting his own silhouette in ghostly smears. The vehicle, like the car on the opposite side of the lot, was empty. Its doors were flung open wide, its interior lights blazing.

“No, no, no…” Simon muttered, glancing around wildly. What was going on? His gaze flickered to the woods, but he couldn’t see a thing but more shadows.

“Jasper!” he shouted again, his voice hoarse.

The little dog ignored him, continuing to bark furiously at the trees. Then, abruptly, he stopped. Simon’s stomach clenched as Jasper’s barking cut off mid-yelp, replaced by a series of frantic, high-pitched whines. The dog backed away from the tree line, his body low and trembling, ears flattened against his skull.

“Jasper, come here!” Simon called, edging closer.

The dog turned and darted toward the underbrush, slipping between the thick branches and vanishing from sight. Simon’s breath caught in his throat.

“Jasper!”

He hesitated, his body screaming at him to turn and run, but he couldn’t just leave his dog out there. The shrieking was almost unbearable now, louder and more piercing, reverberating through his skull. He felt a sudden urge to clap his hands over his ears, to block out the sound, but he forced himself to focus.

“Damn it,” he hissed, his voice trembling. He took a deep breath, then plunged into the woods after Jasper.

The world seemed to shift as he stepped off the asphalt and into the tangled undergrowth. Branches snagged at his clothes, scratching his face and arms as he pushed forward. The trees closed in around him, their gnarled limbs forming a dark web overhead. Every step felt wrong, his footfalls muffled by the thick carpet of dead leaves and twisted roots.

“Jasper!” he called, stumbling forward. The sound of the dog’s whines was somewhere up ahead, but the shrieks were growing louder, overlapping with each other until they became a chaotic din of cries, whispers, and giggles.

Simon froze, his pulse hammering in his ears. The shrieking wasn’t just one voice—it was many. Dozens, maybe even hundreds. And they weren’t just shrieking anymore. The sounds twisted and warped, becoming a jumbled mess of choked sobs, snatches of broken laughter, and sharp, whispering voices.

His skin crawled. He couldn’t understand the words—they were too fast, too garbled—but the tone was clear: mocking, hungry, like a crowd of unseen things watching him, amused by his panic.

“Jasper,” he breathed, his voice small and desperate. “Please, boy, come back.”

He pushed forward, his vision narrowing as he tried to follow the sound of his dog. He stumbled, nearly falling, then froze.

There, just a few feet ahead, was Jasper’s harness. It lay in a twisted heap on the ground, the leash trailing off into the darkness. Simon’s heart plummeted.

“Jasper?” he whispered, his voice shaking.

The dog’s whines were gone. The woods had fallen silent, the shrieking voices abruptly cutting off. Simon stood frozen, staring down at the discarded harness. Where was Jasper? Why had the leash—

A rustling sound, soft but distinct, came from the underbrush to his left. Simon’s breath caught in his throat, his gaze snapping toward the sound.

“Jasper?” he whispered again.

The bushes trembled, and then Jasper burst out, his little body streaked with dirt and leaves, eyes wide and frantic. The dog didn’t stop, didn’t even look at him—just bolted past, tail tucked between his legs, heading back toward the parking lot.

“Jasper, wait!” Simon spun, reaching out as if to grab him, but the dog was already gone, a blur of fur vanishing into the night.

A sharp crack behind him made him whirl around. Something moved in the shadows—something big, shifting between the trees just out of sight.

Simon’s mouth went dry. He took a step back, heart hammering. Whatever was out there, it was close. He could feel it.

Another crack, louder this time, and Simon’s body jerked in fear. He stumbled back, his eyes darting wildly around the darkened forest. The shrieking started up again, a low, rumbling chorus of voices rising from the depths of the woods.

And then he heard it—something else, a sound that cut through the shrieks like a blade: a deep, rasping breath, almost imperceptible but unmistakable. It came from somewhere just behind him, so close he could feel the hair on the back of his neck stand on end.

Simon turned and ran.

He tore through the underbrush, branches clawing at his clothes and skin. His lungs burned, his legs screaming with pain, but he didn’t dare slow down. The breath followed him, a faint, hot exhalation brushing against the back of his neck.

No matter how fast he ran, the thing kept pace, slipping between the trees just out of sight. He didn’t look back—he couldn’t. The thought of seeing whatever was behind him sent a spike of pure terror through his chest.

He broke through the tree line, stumbling out onto the gravel path. The parking lot loomed ahead, the dark shapes of the two abandoned cars blurred by his panicked vision. Jasper was there, standing at the edge of the lot, his body trembling.

“Come on, come on!” Simon gasped, forcing his legs to keep moving. He reached the dog, grabbed his harness, and hauled him forward. Jasper yelped but didn’t resist, his eyes fixed on the woods behind them.

The shrieking voices swelled, rising to a fever pitch. Simon didn’t look back. He couldn’t. He just ran, dragging Jasper with him as they sprinted toward the safety of the streetlights at the far edge of the park.

The breath was right behind him now, hot and dry against his neck. He could feel it touching his skin, like the caress of invisible fingers. His vision blurred, his lungs screaming for air.

And then they were out—bursting into the harsh glow of the streetlights, the darkness falling away behind them.

Simon collapsed to his knees, gasping for breath. The shrieking cut off abruptly, leaving only the quiet hum of the streetlights and the distant sound of cars in the night. He glanced back, trembling.

The parking lot was empty. The woods were still. Whatever had been chasing them was gone.

But Simon’s heart still raced, his body trembling with fear. He touched the back of his neck, where the breath had brushed against his skin, and felt a strange, prickling sensation. Something was wrong.

“Come on, boy,” he whispered, his voice shaking. “Let’s get out of here.”

He staggered to his feet, pulling Jasper along, and hurried down the street, in the direction of his home.

Part III

Simon burst through the front door of his house, his heart pounding so hard it felt like it would tear through his chest. He barely managed to shove the door shut behind him, the lock clicking with a reassuring thud. The house was quiet and dim, the only light spilling in from the streetlamp outside. Jasper squirmed at his side, still shaking violently, his small body trembling with fear.

“It’s okay… it’s okay, boy. We’re safe,” Simon whispered, collapsing onto the floor in a heap, his back pressed against the door. He gripped Jasper’s leash tightly, trying to calm both of them, the adrenaline still surging through his veins. His entire body felt numb and weak, and his mind struggled to catch up with what had just happened.

“What… what was that?” Simon murmured to himself, his voice thin and strained.

He didn’t have an answer. All he knew was that they had barely escaped… whatever it was that had chased them out of the woods. Something unseen, something that breathed on him. He shuddered involuntarily, his hand reaching up to rub the back of his neck where the sensation had lingered.

Then he froze.

The skin there felt strange—wrong. It was smooth to the touch, unnaturally so, almost as if it had been polished. There was no trace of the faint stubble he should have felt, no warmth or texture. It was like touching a piece of plastic or wax.

“What…?” Simon muttered, his hand trembling as he traced the spot again.

His fingertips tingled, and he pulled his hand back, staring in confusion at his fingers. A fine, grayish dust coated the pads of his fingers, as if he’d been handling something brittle and dry. He blinked, confused, and then a cold wave of horror swept through him.

The dust was coming from him.

Simon scrambled to his feet, his eyes wide with disbelief. He held his fingers up, staring as the gray powder continued to flake off. The skin there was… dissolving, crumbling away without a trace of pain. His pulse hammered in his ears as he watched, frozen in shock, as the pads of his fingers began to crumble into fine ash, the edges breaking apart and disintegrating into the air.

“No,” he whispered, his voice barely audible. “No, no, no…”

He stumbled to the bathroom, still gripping Jasper’s leash tightly in his good hand. He threw the door open, flicking on the light, and thrust his hand under the faucet. The water splashed over his dissolving fingers, and for a brief, frantic moment, he thought it might help. But the opposite happened—the water seemed to accelerate the process.

“Stop! Please, stop!” Simon pleaded, yanking his hand back, but it was too late. His fingertips continued to break apart, the skin and bone silently crumbling away. He watched, paralyzed, as his fingers disappeared, reduced to stubs in a matter of seconds. His breath hitched, and he felt his knees go weak.

“What’s happening?” he whimpered, staring in horror at his disintegrating hand.

The dissolution spread slowly but inexorably, moving up his hand, then his wrist. His skin bubbled and effervesced, tiny granules breaking free and drifting away in a fine mist. He tried to flex his hand, but there was nothing left to move. His fingers—his whole hand—was simply vanishing.

“Jasper…” he croaked, turning desperately toward the little dog.

Jasper stood in the doorway, watching him with wide, terrified eyes. Simon reached out with his remaining hand, but stopped short, afraid to touch him. What if whatever was happening to him spread to Jasper, too?

“Stay back, boy,” he whispered, voice trembling. “Stay… stay back.”

Tears filled his eyes as he stumbled backward, his dissolving arm hanging uselessly at his side. He needed to call someone—he needed help. His mind raced, and he spun around, searching for his phone. It wasn’t in his pockets. Panic surged through him. He’d left it at home, forgotten on the kitchen counter before the walk.

“Damn it!” he screamed, his voice cracking.

He staggered into the living room, his eyes darting around frantically. He spotted the phone on the counter and lunged for it with his good hand, clutching it desperately as the other continued to flake away. Trembling, he tapped at the screen, his hands slick with sweat. He managed to swipe to the dialer and jabbed in the numbers—9-1-1—just as his crumbling hand dropped to his side, unable to hold the phone anymore.

“Please, please, pick up,” he whimpered, staring as his dissolving fingers began to vanish entirely, reduced to wisps of gray powder drifting into the air.

The line connected with a soft click.

“Nine-one-one, what’s your emergency?” a woman’s calm voice answered.

Simon’s mouth opened, but no words came out. His arm was disintegrating up to the elbow now, and a raw, primal terror choked his throat. A sound escaped him—a broken, strangled scream that seemed to echo through the empty house.

“Sir, are you there? What’s the nature of your emergency?” the dispatcher asked, her tone sharpening with concern.

But all Simon could do was scream.

The sound tore through him, desperate and filled with agony. He was being erased, piece by piece, his body turning to dust in the silent air. Jasper whined beside him, his little paws scrabbling against the floor as if he wanted to help but didn’t know how.

“Help me!” Simon screamed, the words garbled and thin as his throat tightened. “Please, help me!”

The dispatcher’s breath hitched audibly. “Sir, stay calm. I’m sending help. Please, stay on the line. Help is on the way.”

But Simon didn’t hear her. His hand was gone, his forearm crumbling rapidly. He dropped to his knees, gasping for breath. The phone fell to the floor, landing with a dull thud. He could hear the dispatcher’s voice calling out frantically, but it was fading, distant and hollow.

“Please, just hold on! Help is coming!”

But it was too late. The dissolution spread faster now, consuming his torso, his legs. His body felt weightless, insubstantial, as if he were dissolving into the very air around him.

The last thing he managed was a single, broken scream—a sound of pure, unfiltered terror. And then he collapsed, his form breaking apart like a sandcastle washed away by the tide.

* * * * * *

The dispatcher’s voice crackled over the 9-1-1 line, growing increasingly urgent as she tried to get Simon to respond.

“Sir, are you there? Please answer! Sir?”

There was no reply, only the faint sound of Jasper’s distressed whimpers in the background.

The first responders arrived at the scene moments later. Finding the front door locked, they wasted no time. With a powerful heave, they forced the door open, bursting inside. Flashlights sliced through the dim interior as they scanned the house, shouting Simon’s name.

“Sir, hello! Where are you?” one of them called out as they entered.

They quickly noticed the little dog, frantic and barking, darting around the living room. Jasper led them toward the center of the room, where a foot, still clad in a sneaker, lay on the floor. The foot was… dissolving, the skin and fabric flaking away into fine dust.

“What the hell…?” the paramedic breathed.

He dropped to his knees beside it, reaching out gingerly. His fingers brushed against the shoe’s surface, and it crumbled instantly, the rubber and fabric disintegrating into a fine, gray powder. He jerked his hand back, staring at the empty patch of floor where the shoe—and the foot—had been.

“What happened here?” another responder whispered, his voice filled with bewilderment.

As they stood in stunned silence, Jasper whined, darting back to the door, then back to the floor where Simon had been, barking desperately.

The only sound was the dispatcher’s distant voice coming from the dropped phone, still connected and echoing hollowly across the silent room:

“Sir? Are you there? Please… please respond…”

The first responders stood in the fading light, their faces etched with confusion and concern as they attempted to coax Jasper into their vehicle. The little dog whimpered softly, his small body trembling, eyes darting between the responders and the house that had once been his home. They exchanged glances, trying to process the inexplicable scene before them.

As they prepared to take him to a nearby animal shelter, one of the responders gently secured Jasper’s leash. The dog seemed to sense the finality of the moment. He cast one last longing glance back at the house, a flicker of recognition passing through his eyes.

With a soft whimper, Jasper turned his head away. The responders glanced at one another, as if searching for answers, but there were none to be found, only the aftermath of a tragedy they couldn’t fully grasp.

* * * * * *

Back in the park, in the dim light of the forest, a cold, lifeless arm, the woman’s body it had once been attached to long since disintegrated, lay partially buried among the underbrush, its fingers splayed and outstretched as if reaching for something just beyond its grasp.

Silently, gradually, the skin crumbled away. Beginning at the base of the forearm and slowly spreading to the fingers, the last evidence that anyone had ever set foot in the woods that night faded away, dissolving into dust carried away, indifferently, by the night breeze.

Deeper in the woods, something unseen shifted. It traveled with an unsettling grace, slipping between the trees like a shadow, before vanishing entirely, leaving no trace of its presence behind.