The Owl

No one knows I'm here. No one ever has to know I was ever here. Brett frantically wiped the counter, the doorknobs, his wine glass, erasing the past few hours. What else? His heart pounded as his eyes flitted around the room. Lightswitch, box of chocolate, record player…Is that everything?

He grabbed his coat, carefully stepped over the growing red puddle in the entryway, used his coat sleeve to twist the doorknob and pull the door shut behind him. The still, empty silence of the dark night calmed his frayed nerves, reassuring him that no one would ever know he had been here. He started down the winding walkway when movement to his left made his heart plummet to his feet. Terrified, he turned his gaze in the direction of the motion and saw two bright yellow eyes staring back at him through the trees. Frozen in fear, he stared into the eyes for what felt like an eternity.

Who, who, who? A voice called in the distance.

His tense muscles relaxed and he sighed in relief. It's just an owl. Careful not to disturb anything, he walked briskly down the rest of the walkway to where his car waited in the dark driveway. A dark shadow passed overhead and came to rest on the roof of his car. The large gray feathered bird watched him, cocking its head to the side, as he reached for the door handle

You, you, you. The bird chanted woefully. The strange call chilled him to the bone and he hurriedly opened the door and climbed into his car.

It's just an owl, he repeated to himself as he cranked the engine to life. The winged creature hopped from the roof to the hood and locked eyes with him through the windshield. Clue, clue, clue, it taunted him as he threw the car into reverse and slammed his foot onto the pedal. The owl flew off, vanishing into the night sky, but its unusual behavior haunted him.

It's just an owl, he reminded himself. I got everything. There's no clue and no one knows I was ever there.

The long empty country lane stretched before him, reassuring him everything would be okay. No one had seen him arrive, no one would see him go. No paper trail or digital footprint. He turned from the lane to the old county highway and drove for miles before it joined the interstate. Only then did he encounter any other cars. Confident nothing could trace him back to where he had come from, Brett headed back to his own house ready to put the nightmarish evening behind him.

After pulling into his driveway and climbing from his vehicle, Brett hurried up the dark path to his front door.

Who, who, who? Brett stopped in his tracks, his blood running ice cold.

It's just an owl. He tried in vain to calm his nerves. It's just an owl…in the middle of the city. A shadow passed overhead, alighting on the rooftop and turned its bright, yellow eyes on Brett.

You, you, you. The owl looking down on him had the same gray feathers, the same white tufts above the eyes, the same black streaks down its back, and the same unusual accusatory call. Chills trickled down his back and Brett sprinted the rest of the way to his door, fumbled with his keys a few seconds, and yanked open the door. Just as he slammed it behind him he heard, Clue, clue, clue.

He poured himself a drink to calm his nerves and another to help him sleep. Then he went to bed to toss and turn, to worry and fret. Every time he started to drift off, he would hear the call of an owl from outside his window. So instead of sleep, he spent the night revisiting the sequence of events from the day trying to figure out what went wrong, ensuring himself there was nothing he missed.

Like most Saturdays, the day had begun with a hike on a remote trail an hour south of the city. Like most Saturdays, he saw no other person along the trail until he happened upon a tall brunette woman with sparkling green eyes and just a smattering of freckles on her nose. Like most Saturdays, they smiled in recognition of each other, exchanged pleasantries, and continued on their way separately; she headed back down while he continued his climb up. But unlike the rest of the Saturdays, today he would see her again. When he returned to the parking lot he found her yelling in frustration at her car that would not start. He sauntered over to her and cranked up the charm, ready to be her knight in shining armor and swoop in to save her. But after nearly an hour of trying, he had to admit defeat.

I touched her car! Brett sat straight up in bed, beads of panicky sweat dripping from his forehead. He had completely forgotten about it because they had left it at the trailhead when he drove her home. His fingerprints would be all over that and several people knew that he hiked that trail every weekend. There were pictures all over social media of him on that trail.

Clue, clue, clue, came the owl’s cocky refrain.

It seemed to take forever to pull on his pants and shirt with his shaking hands. How could I have forgotten? He had the hardest time finding his keys, despite having returned home only a few hours earlier, and finally located them in the liquor cabinet. I should have gone straight there when I left her house. He walked outside where the sky was growing lighter casting everything in an eerie blue glow that made it all look two dimensional. He had time. He would get there slightly after sunrise.

His heart pounded in his ears, making it hard to think, as he drove as fast as he dared. The sun crested the mountain before him as he turned off the interstate and went up the twisting canyon road to the trailhead. His stomach clenched and his liquid dinner seemed to slosh about inside it as he pulled into the parking lot and saw two vehicles where he only expected one. A young woman stood beside a dark blue SUV while her male companion pulled water bottles and day packs from the back. Both smiled and waved as Brett pulled into a spot on the far side of the lot, near the outhouse. He faked a smile the best he could and waved back. He climbed from the car planning to hide in the outhouse until they headed up the trail. He realized his plan kind of stunk, but it was the best he could come up with.

Who, who, who? The wretched owl had followed him once more. Its dark shadow passed over him and came to rest on the roof of the latrine. The woman on the other side of the parking lot gasped in glee and cautiously began approaching for a closer look, her camera phone poised in her hand.

You, you, you. But this time the owl’s bright yellow eyes had locked on the woman instead of Brett. She stopped and looked at the owl curiously as it spread its wings and rose into the air.

Too, too, too. The owl circled above the woman’s head and she looked up with panic rising in her eyes. Her male companion rushed to her side as the owl dove toward her with its claws outstretched menacingly. He shielded her face with his arm and the owl slashed across his forearm leaving behind three deep gashes that bled profusely. The two ran toward their vehicle as the owl readied itself for another dive. This time the owl’s claws tore across her back, slashing open her shirt and skin as easily as one might tear paper. She shrieked in pain as her companion helped her into the SUV. As he raced around the vehicle to climb into the driver’s seat the owl returned for one more attack, its claws ripped through the bicep of his other arm before he could pull the door shut behind him. Brett stared dumbfounded at the scene before him watching in awe as the couple peeled out of their parking spot and raced off without a second look.

Who, who, who? The owl calmly came to rest on the roof of the latrine once more. It cocked its head, locking eyes with Brett. You, you, you. It turned its yellow gaze to the black sedan a few stalls away from Brett’s red sports car. Clue, clue, clue.

Brett realized the couple would report the owl attack as soon as they got to the ranger station at the base of the canyon and authorities would be arriving to investigate. He needed to hurry. After carefully wiping down the hood and doors of the sedan with a towel from his car, Brett got back into his car and raced back down the mountain. As he passed the ranger station he noted that the blue SUV had not stopped there. They must have continued onto the hospital, instead. That gave him more time to get as far from here as he could. But, before he drove all the way home, he should make sure he had not missed anything else. He replayed the previous day in his mind.

Once they had given up on fixing her car, Brett offered her a ride to her house so she could call a tow truck. They had so much fun together on the drive back that she invited him to stay for lunch and they both forgot entirely about calling a tow truck. Hours passed, wine bottles emptied. She went upstairs to change and promised to be right back. But the next thing he knew, Brett was standing at the top of the stairs looking down at her broken body at the bottom as blood pooled around her head like a crimson halo and her lifeless green eyes stared up at him blankly. He did not remember going upstairs after her. He could not remember if she’d stumbled or he pushed her. But now he remembered what he had forgotten. He had to go back.

So he drove back up the winding country lane and pulled up the long empty driveway. He raced back into the house, stepping carefully around the body and its bloody halo. He climbed to the top of the stairs and carefully wiped the banister he had leaned over to look down at her. Satisfied, he headed back to the stairs to leave.

Who, who, who? The owl had followed him through the door and soared above his head. You, you, you. It fixed him with its accusing stare. Too, too, too. It called forlornly as it dove toward him with its claws outstretched. He stepped backward, forgetting he stood at the top of the stairs and tumbled down, landing with a sickening thud as his head cracked on the tile entry.

Who, who, who? The owl called one last time, as it soared over Brett’s lifeless body and out the door.