The Almost-Seen

There are creatures which live on the periphery. You’ve seen them. Or, almost seen them. Just as you turn your head they’re gone.

Many have likened these elusive wisps to leprechauns or gremlins. If only. Leprechauns are wont to bless a person with good luck when the fancy takes them; and gremlins, nuisance though they are, are mindless, as likely to spend an afternoon pulling apart a broken-down jalopy as an aeroplane engine.

But these almost-seen entities have motives of much darker intent.

I’m still don’t know where these things originated from. But then, I’m not sure where the human race came from either. Some mysteries, intriguing as they are, can remain unsolved and life will carry as normal. But the identity of these insidious beasts must be learned and shared.

It was on a train journey that I first witnessed the cruel truth of this creatures. Summer was ending and I was heading back to university. Beside me, a business read his Times and, across the table, a mother fussed her young son.

An inquest later revealed that postponed maintenance works had been the main contributor to the crash. Of course, none of us knew that at the time. Our minds barely had time to register that the train was coming off the rails as hell enveloped our day.

Momentum shifted as the carriage moved forward, up and sideways all at once. My stomach lurched as it does when the rollercoaster releases from his initial long climb. Glass shattered and peppered us, scratching some, deeply wounding others. Bodies tumbled from their seats, bags and laptops flew through the air. Up became down, left became forward, back became up.

Then the screaming started.

The cries of the wounded and maimed were terrible to hear, yet – disturbingly – calming. It signified they had survived, that the worst was over and that hope remained.

As my vision dimmed, I looked down and saw the table had broken from its mounting and had been forced into myself and the businessman. Other people and debris pressed against the far side of the table, affording us no room to free ourselves. My breath was being forced from me and I was unable to breathe in. Beside me, the man loosed a low groan, barely audible yet more chilling than anything I had heard thus far. I had heard of a death rattle, the final breath being expelled from a dead or dying person, but had not thought it a real thing.

And the almost-seen things surged upon him.

Their movements were rapid an erratic. The lasting image I have of them is comprised of a dozen snippets seen here and there. They resembled jellyfish in shape and size, but seemed made of grey smoke instead of tangible substance. Though I do not remember seeing eyes, each creature had many toothless mouths dotted around its body in a nonsensical pattern. Among the multitude of tendrils I saw several tentacles, each ending in a vicious-looking tooth or claw. These tentacles thrashed at the man as the beasts writhed over his body.

By some miracle, the crowd moved, the table eased from my gut and air rushed back into my lungs. I gasped and sobbed and waited for rescue.

I do not think that the unseen things caused the accident. Rather than being the authors of our demise, I believe they hover close to us waiting intently for our end.

Perhaps they are the embodiment of death and the Grim Reaper, atop his pale horse with a scythe in his skeletal grip, is just a romantic personification. Maybe every living soul has a grey counterpart, waiting for us to enter the undiscovered country. This I do not know.

All I know is that the sound of a soul being ripped apart – the pain and terror it voiced – will haunt me until my dying day. And probably beyond.