Marvin Roth - Hanky and the Thousandsleeper

The thing cheered. Whenever it had found a new victim, it felt invincible. All cozy now, it stretched its invisible tentacles inside the new host body and began to control all of its functions. Now it would get into the priest’s car and run over Walt’s body. This bastard had given him way too much trouble. Revenge, yes revenge was what the creature now wanted more than anything. I walked around to the other side of the car, climbed in and got behind the steering wheel. The engine would not start until it had made several attempts and its rumbling was worrisome at first. The creature shut the door, put the automatic transmission in D and looked straight ahead. But Walt Kessler was no longer there. He had left the scene. The thing began to search for him instantly with its mental sensors, but failed to locate Walt.

It contemplated whether it should get back out of the car, but thought better of it when a large truck appeared on the horizon on the top of the hill. The creature started to roll.

“He’s very likely dead anyhow,” the priest said.

Barely a minute later, the priest’s Lincoln passed the truck on the other side of the road.

From the trenches by the side of the road, concealed by the high grass, Walt Kessler’s incredibly tired eyes observed the car take off. A smile appeared on Walt’s lips before he fell into the deep sleep of a man who is terribly exhausted.

When Hanky had walked for about ten minutes and had almost left the village behind him, he noticed two things. His legs had taken him into this direction as if on auto pilot, as if they knew where they needed to carry Hanky. Moreover, this was not the way that would take him to his grandpa’s house.

Hanky was torn: Should he turn around and talk to his grandfather first? Yet something told him that he did not have any time to lose. So he kept following his trail and walked even faster. In front of a house, which was close to the Prisco town limits, he spotted a large truck that was parked there. The engine was already idling when the operator jumped out of the cabin and walked over to the house. Apparently the man wanted to pick something up inside the house before he hit the road.

“He probably forgot something!,” Hanky told himself.

Hanky had seen the man before and knew that he lived in the small house with his family. They’d lived there for about two years. He was frequently gone, because he liked to do the long hauls. They paid much better. Hanky was just approaching the truck when an idea flashed in his head. The trailer the truck was pulling was covered with a tarpaulin on top. In the back, it was tied down with a transparent piece of plastic rope. But not completely. At the bottom of the tarp, a small area was still open. All Hanky had to do was pull the rope out of three or four of the eyelets. He did just that and created an opening, he could slip through. Hanky pushed himself through the opening as fast as he could and made it into the loading area. As soon as he was inside he heard fast footsteps approach from the house. Next, he recognized the noises of a closing truck door and the howling and grumbling of the powerful engine. Rocking just a little bit, the truck began to move.

That same morning, Ray Bergson woke up drenched in sweat. Hanky’s grandfather looked around his bedroom, totally confused. Everything was in its proper place, just like always. Nonetheless, something was amiss today. Images from a nightmare - he’d had one after a long period of dreamless nights - appeared like fragments before his inner eye only to vanish right away.

In his nightmare, he had seen Hanky and frightful things. He sensed that danger was imminent, for his grandson and other people. And there was something else weighing heavy on his mind. Suddenly, memories of his deceased brother-in-law came up. He had visions of the very same images he had seen back then. It was if it had only just happened and not so many years ago. He saw his brother-in-law lying in a pool of blood, his throat slit wide open and the mountain lion covering his body. He also heard all the noises he’d noticed back then. The deep-throated gnarls of the beast and the blubbering of the blood spewing from the dead man’s throat.

Next, a picture appeared in his spiritual eye - and it once again made the hair stand up on his back. He saw the incredibly malicious eyes of the beast. He saw himself pull his rifle off his shoulder in a split second and shoot without any hesitation.

The images began to dissolve and Ray noticed that his entire body was shaking. For all of these years he had pushed this incident into the dark corners of his mind. He actually had expunged it. Well... maybe not entirely. In fact, what he had buried the horrible experience deep inside himself and had built a tall protective wall around the grave. Something had broken down the wall. Why? He mulled it over for a long time and tried to recall the vanishing images that had appeared to him in the nightmare.

He got up, dragged himself into the kitchen and began to make coffee. Next, he went into the bathroom and washed his face with cold water. He glared into the mirror, contemplating his face marked by the wrinkles of a long life. Yet he was able to see beyond his own mirror image and spot the face of his grandson. Hanky was not laughing for a change. He looked extremely serious - like an adult.

Once the truck had traveled for about two and a half hours, Hanky became a little restless back in the cargo room. He sensed that something had happened nearby. He’d had this same feeling just shortly after the departure of the truck, when it passed the location where Mike Clark, the owner of the transportation company, had been murdered.

Nevertheless, this was somehow different. Hanky knew that he was needed here and moreover, that this was a place where he could find help. He leaned out of the tail end of the truck and when it began to slow down on an incline, he made a bold leap. As he jumped, he almost lost his balance and despite swinging his arms he landed on the road hard, skinning his knees. Fully conscious he quickly limped over to the close by ditch and allowed his body to tumble into the high grass.

The truck rattled on and soon disappeared over the horizon. The young man sat up straight and wondered what he was doing in this place. After a while, Hanky got up, rubbing his aching knee caps. He marched off slowly, looking around as if searching for something. Shortly thereafter he discovered some grass by the side of the road that had obviously been trampled down. The tracks revealed that a car had to have come through here. In a wondrous way, Hanky knew immediately that these tracks were of no relevance for his mission. As a result, he completely missed Walt Kessler’s car still sitting in front of the tree further down the incline.

He continued on, trusting his intuition, which would definitely tell him whenever he came across something he was subconsciously looking for. Then he suddenly remembered his grandpa. He’d probably be awfully worried about him by now, especially once he learned that Hanky had disappeared. He walked a few more steps and suddenly came to an abrupt stop. A leg was sticking up out of the grass in the ditch.

Walt Kessler noticed that something was shaking him violently. His mind had trouble coming out of the soothing unconsciousness, but it slowly came to life. Annoyed, he realized that the tugging and shaking would not stop. Now he also heard a voice calling something out to him. Initially, he could not comprehend the words. Yet the voice persisted. Walt’s mental capabilities returned by and by and he begin to emerge, like a diver who had been deep under the ocean. After a while - second, minutes maybe - Walt had no concept of time - he understood the words. The voice kept on yelling: