One night a few years ago, I had this urge to go back and see an old house I’d lived in growing up. It was fairly late but you know when you’re feeling reflective and nostalgic, you just have to go and do it, and I had nothing else to do.

I couldn’t remember the exact address but I had a pretty strong recollection for where the place was, about an hour from my city apartment, off the freeway, down a long dirt road in the middle of forest and bushland.

I don’t recall the trip there but I found myself standing outside, looking up at the house. It was a dark night, especially amongst the trees and bush, a heavy quiet, unnaturally still. The house looked like I remembered; tall, white paint, weatherboard, but something about it was… off, something familiar yet eerie and unfamiliar, too still, uninviting. The high windows were unshuttered, no curtains were drawn, but they were black in the night, no light reflected off the glass, they were as still and quiet as the house. I began to feel like maybe I’d never lived there at all, and that I should not have come.

I was going to turn and leave, but suddenly felt like I’d left something behind, this overwhelming feeling that I had to find something. I noticed an open carport attached to the side of the house, and a black car within. As dark and still as the house, as unknown. Without realising it, something drew me to the carport to search for it, whatever I’d lost, my feet crunching slow upon the stone driveway, the sound amplified by the still and quiet. 

I ran a hand along the car, as if what I searched for would suddenly appear in my fingers. My memory then, of being in the carport, it’s hazy, like I appeared from place to place, blacking out in between, searching old shelves, under boxes, not able to fully make out what I was looking at. I remember being back at the car, trying to peer through the window, when a voice came from the far end of the driveway, up by the long dirt road that passed by the house and stretched off into the bushland. 

The night was a heavy dark but the road was lit a dim yellow by a streetlight here and there, making it visible enough to walk. Though the road was a good fifty metres away from me and the car, in the streetlight I could see the shape of a man, scuffing along as if drunk, an odd step about him as if he might topple over. Even from where I was he had a sort of homeless look about him, I could make out scraggy beard and hair, a long trench coat. I watched for a while as he slowly shuffled along the road and past the driveway entry, muttering to himself. All things told, he had a good-natured look about him, even from that distance. I got a small fright as he suddenly called out, I could only guess toward me, although he didn’t look in my direction. 

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“Youuu, yeahh youu”, he'd said - I didn’t respond. 

“Arghhhh, you’rrree a, yeahhhh”, his voice cracked and slurred, but again, it felt good-natured, so I passed him off as a bloke having had a few too many, stumbling wherever his feet would take him. But something still made me curious, enough to abandon my search and watch him, and walk up the driveway a little closer to the road. 

He just continued slowly shuffling along, moving further away now, passing under another dim streetlight. He called out again, the same slurring taunt, and I had to stifle a chuckle at him. I kept watching him and, before I realised, I was out on the road too. 

By then he was almost out of sight up the road, when he called out again.

I don’t really know why, but this time I yelled back at him. I don’t even know what I yelled, but he stopped, he was quite far now, almost out of a distant streetlight, but I could tell he had stopped.

Then he called out, the same cracking slur, his voice carrying despite the distance, but the words were different.

“Nahhh, you wouldn’t would youuuu, narrgghhh”, almost like he was daring me to do it again. 

A chill crept into me, a little lump of panic, a sense that I’d done something I shouldn’t have. I turned to slowly head back down the driveway, hoping he couldn’t see me moving, and I’ll never know why I did what I did next.

Without looking toward him, I yelled out to him even louder, almost as if taunting him, answering his dare. Then I froze in panic, scared to move, and chanced a look toward the man in the distance. 

What I saw will live with me forever. 

The man was no longer standing - he was on all fours. His movements were scrabbling, an unnatural jerking motion, but in the dim yellow light he seemed to be moving away. For the briefest of moments I felt relieved, until I looked again - he was coming toward me at speed.

I turned and tried to run toward the house, but like a nightmare my fear and panic had seized control. I turned and saw the dark shape through the bushes, scrabbling along the road on all fours, nearly at the driveway. A shriek rang out that froze me in place, I don’t know if it was me or the thing chasing me. And then I turned again, even though I knew it was wrong, and it was on me, a creature I can’t describe, and the homeless man’s mangled face and gaping mouth staring back at me.

I remember it looming over me as I was falling backwards, and everything went black.

That’s all I can recall. When I woke up, I was back at my apartment, back in the city. 

For some reason I can’t remember where the old house was now, but I know I’ll never go back there, and since then I’ve stayed inside at night.