Sean hammered a thick, black blanket over the window, making the living room darker with each strike. Callie picked up spilled popcorn from Max and Milo, who sat on the pull-out couch mattress in their pajamas.
“The sun sets on the east coast in one hour. What’s the traffic like, Lisa?” an anchor said on the news.
Footage showed street cams overlooking a popular highway.
“Vincent, I’ve reported on Phantasmas for twenty-two years. This is the busiest I’ve seen it this close to sundown, bar-none,” said Lisa.
“So people aren’t heeding the curfew and warnings anymore?” Vincent said.
“Despite government warnings, people no longer take this annual phenomenon seriously,” Lisa said.
The TV switched to cartoons. Max and Milo cheered.
“Oh, come on,” Sean said.
“Let the boys get some screen time. It’ll be an early night,” Callie said while unfurling bedding.
“For them. I have paperwork due, Phantasmas or not,” Sean said.
“You can’t. You need to sleep through the night.”
“I’ll have the headphones on, but I don’t have a choice.”
Callie exhaled the sigh that Sean heard over the years when work duties trumped all else.
“I need to get a folder from the car,” he said.
Sean walked to his car in the clear, hot dusk. Tarek and Doug stood in the middle of the cul-de-sac, beckoning him over. They chuckled, motioning to Sean’s house, where every window stood covered.
“Living in fear, huh?” Doug said.
“We’re worried about the kids,” Sean said, shifting his weight.
“TJ’s still at baseball practice,” Tarek said. “I doubt he’ll want to rush home after, either.”
“Yeah. They’re only whispers, Sean,” Doug said. “They can’t hurt you.”
“Just, you know, appeasing the wife,” Sean said after a silence, getting a laugh out of the guys.
The twins slept on the pull-out wearing bulky, noise-canceling headphones. Callie lay on the sofa with an empty pillow beside her. Sean sat in the recliner with his laptop and paperwork. The television showed street cams still somewhat lively.
“Sleep soon,” Callie said.
“As soon as I can,” Sean said.
They both put their headphones on and went into their own nights.
Focusing on the report was nearly impossible. Data blurred together. Heavy fatigue overtook Sean. The television displayed, “FEMA: Annual Paranormal Phenomenon Occurrence Warning: Do not venture outside. Do not open your door. Use noise-canceling devices.”
“It’s the headphones,” Sean said aloud. “They’re impeding my focus.”
He took them off and could focus right away—for about three minutes.
“Sean, are you there?” a voice said from the other side of the window. “It’s Dad.”
Sean shot up, dropping the laptop. He had a relief to see Callie and the boys still asleep.
He scrambled for his headphones when he heard, “Sean, listen. We got stuck and didn’t make it home before sundown. No, let us in.”
He knew it was the power of the night in action. It had a singular purpose—to make him open the door. Yet, when he heard how much it sounded like his father, doubt seeped in.
“Sean!” the window shook with how strong the voice owner pounded at the window.
“It’s not real,” Sean whispered.
Another voice then said, “Honey, it’s Mom. Let us in.”
Soon, it looked like a fire rose from beyond the veiled window. Then came the screams of children. Gunshots. Dogs wailing.
“There’s been an accident. Please, don’t let us die out here.”
Tears dripped from Sean’s face. He fell onto the floor, shaking.
“Stop!” he screamed.
At that, all chaos halted. Sean saw only blacked-out windows.
Yet soon, there was a knock at the door.
“Sean, you okay? We heard screaming,” Doug said.
Sean approached the door.
“They might be hurt,” Tarek said to Doug.
It sounded so accurate, so true. Yet, still, off.
Sean peeled back the square of black fabric that covered the front door peephole. Doug and Tarek looked directly at him, smiling.
Yet on the other side of the cul-de-sac was something that no illusion could mask—Tarek screaming as he held his son’s convulsing, bleeding body.
About the Author
M.J. Weisen won 4th place in our 2nd Annual Napkin Microfiction Contest (May 2022) with the award winning story Only Whispers. M.J. won a cash prize and will be published in Indie It Press’s 2nd COURAGEOUS CREATIVE Anthology: Volume II, in 2023.
M.J. Weisen is a new fiction writer. He enjoys exploring magical and supernatural realism while still exploring what it means to be human, and a resident of this planet. He has been published in anthologies by Daily Prompt, Brilliant Flash Fiction, and Lulu. M.J. lives in Wake Forest, NC with his wife, his two children, two cats, and two dogs.