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The Fever That Came at Midnight

One night. One fever. One truth you can’t sweat out

By JanalamPublished 5 months ago 3 min read

The night of Aug 1st started with a slight fever round eight p.M. On a quiet Thursday night time. The sort in which a faint layer of sweat beads across your forehead with out a clear cause or motive.

I didn’t pay a great deal interest. Following my traditional nightly ordinary, I still had things to do: iron my garments, take the canine out one last time, and make lunch for day after today. The lasagna at paintings’s cafeteria turned into delicious, but at nine bucks a serving, it was a luxury I couldn’t manage to pay for. With the equal 9 bucks, I could buy enough pasta to remaining the week.

That, mixed with the money I burned at the strip club every Friday, meant i was constantly locating myself inside the pink. Budgeting turned into in no way certainly one of my robust factors.

When I opened the fridge, i was greeted by using its typical chaotic mess — one of the many shameless conduct of a bachelor. I reached for one of my favorites: a chilly Heineken.

That’s once I noticed the twitch in my proper hand.

It started small — only a faint tremor — but as my hands closed across the bottle, the twitch grew into a violent shake. Seismic spasms rattled the glass till the label blurred into an unreadable smear. Happily, I hadn’t opened it but.

I grabbed my proper wrist with my left hand, hoping to regular it. Miraculously, the touch by myself stopped it. Right away.

Bizarre.

I shrugged it off. Probably too much caffeine. Or maybe just exhaustion. If I desired to be dramatic, perhaps even a slight stroke.

Through eleven p.M., although, the sweat had returned in complete pressure, soaking into my shirt collar. I didn’t have time to be ill — now not with an vital task due the next day that required me to expose up in character.

I stored my paintings, minimized the Excel chart, and headed closer to the bathroom. Really, there had to be a few expired bloodless remedy in there somewhere. I not often were given unwell, however I always stored the basics on hand.

That’s once I heard it.

From the kitchen.

A unmarried, planned clink.

Like a tumbler bottle being set down gently at the counter.

I froze. Benny — my canine — become nonetheless asleep inside the nook of the sofa. My upstairs friends had been quiet this night. The sound had come from my kitchen.

I became slowly, my frame heavy from the fever, but something between curiosity and dread pulled me in the direction of the kitchen.

The fridge door was extensive open.

And at the counter sat the identical Heineken I’d grabbed earlier — but now, the cap turned into off. Droplets of condensation slid lazily down the glass.

I picked it up. It become nonetheless ice cold. However the second it touched my lips, i finished.

The beer turned into flat. Completely dead. As though it have been sitting out for hours.

A sit back labored its manner down my backbone.

Benny turned into wakeful now, status together with his ears up and his eyes fixed on the kitchen doorway. A low growl rumbled from his throat. I accompanied his gaze — and that’s once I noticed it.

A shadow.

No longer mine.

It stretched unnaturally across the linoleum, long and bent in ways a human body couldn’t bend. It moved — slowly, deliberately — like it became identifying something.

My right hand began shaking once more, more difficult this time. I grabbed it with my left, but the tremor unfold — up my arm, throughout my shoulders, down my spine. My entire frame quaked like something internal me wanted out.

The fever spiked. My skin burned. My respiratory grew ragged. Sweat poured into my eyes, however I couldn’t look away. The shadow moved nearer.

Benny barked once — sharp and loud — then whimpered and bolted down the hallway.

The shadow reached the threshold of the dwelling room carpet.

And then —

The whole thing stopped.

The shaking ended.
The fever vanished.
The room went nonetheless and bloodless.

The fridge door become closed.
The counter become empty.

I stayed frozen on the sofa, my eyes locked at the kitchen doorway. My heart thudded in my chest. I told myself it changed into simply the fever. Just a hallucination.

By the point morning mild filtered into the condo, I almost believed it. I felt high-quality — higher than nice. No fever, no tremor. I laughed at myself for letting my imagination run wild.

Until I walked into the kitchen.

The refrigerator door turned into open once more.

And internal, sitting on the middle shelf, was a perfectly chilled Heineken — its label warped and unreadable — shaking ever so slightly, as even though something inner it become alive… and ready.

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About the Creator

Janalam

Start writing...Hey! I’m Jan Alam 😎✍️

I write all kinds of stories — sci-fi 🚀, romance 💖, or something totally weird and new!

Obsessed with pop culture 🎬🎶📚 and always busy creating something fresh ✨🔥

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  • Janalam (Author)5 months ago

    Love you all

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