Liling and the Geister Kahn Kuhkot Urvieh

The first thing that went wrong was the car breaking down.

I had been driving it for a year or two, but the engine sounded like it was running on marbles. It had enough gas to get me to school, so I figured I could risk it.

But just five minutes from home, I saw smoke pooling from underneath the hood. The car wheezed and then died completely. I pulled over to the side of the road, the car shuddering to a halt and hissing like an angry cat.

I sighed and dug in my bag for my phone. If I wanted to be at the library by 8:00am, it was time to call a tow truck.

I got out of the car to stretch my legs and glanced around. The sky was a dull grey, as were the land and trees and sky. I could see ragged edges of cloud in the distance, slowly shifting and changing shape, but the rest of the sky was empty. In the distance, I could see a tower—the old observatory tower at the university. I gazed at it for a moment and wondered what it was still doing there. Hadn’t it been knocked down?

I stepped away from the car and frowned at the foggy air. Was it always this thick? I shivered and pulled my jacket tighter around me, buttoning it up to my chin. I didn’t remember it being this cold this early this morning. Maybe it was just my imagination—I hadn’t been sleeping well lately.

A whooshing noise behind me made me jump. I whirled around and saw a figure standing near the car. It was tall and thin, dressed in a long black coat. Its face was shrouded in its own long hair, but I could see dark eyes peering out at me.

It was a man—I knew that much. A man, standing perfectly still, staring at me with its eyes wide open. I stared back at him, my breath caught in my throat. I couldn’t tell if he was looking at me with fear or with longing, but he certainly wasn’t moving.

I cleared my throat and tried to speak, but my voice caught in my throat again. I coughed and tried again. “Um.” My voice sounded high-pitched and thin. “Are you okay?”

The man said nothing. Instead, he took a step toward me. I took a step back, holding my hands up defensively. “Please, don’t hurt me!”

But he didn’t stop. He kept taking steps toward me, his eyes never leaving mine. I fell backward, landing hard on the ground. I scrambled to my feet and ran, not stopping even when I heard him laugh behind me.

I reached the parking lot, gasping for breath. I stumbled into a small building that looked like an equipment shed, slamming the door and locking it behind me. I slumped against the door, trying to catch my breath.

The man outside banged on the door impatiently, then began to kick it. I backed away from it, watching in terror as the door began to shudder and crack. I turned and saw a window, but he would be able to get through that too. I could hear him laughing. I turned and ran through the shed.

I burst into the open air, stumbling and falling to my knees. The grass was soft and wet, and I gasped as my face got soaked with dew. I crawled frantically across the ground, heading for the parking lot and the car.

I reached the car and struggled to my feet, fumbling for my keys. I could hear him behind me, laughing and shouting at me. I flipped the lock and yanked the door open, sliding into the driver’s seat. When I had the door shut, I slammed my foot on the gas pedal and peeled out of the parking lot.

I drove back to school, parking in the library lot. I sat in the car, trembling and crying, until the sun rose. Then I walked to class.

I didn’t sleep that night. I stayed up all night, drawing intricate patterns in my notebook, writing nonsensical words and phrases. I tried to sleep, but every time I closed my eyes, I would see his face.

I had seen him before, I was sure of it. But where? And why did he want to kill me?

I spent the weekend researching him online. His name was Geister Kahn Kuhkot Urvieh. I couldn’t find anything about him, except for the fact that he was a murderer and a rapist. He had killed twenty-two women before being captured.

I went back to the shed, looking for clues. I found my pencil drawing of the tower, now smeared and ruined. I found my notebook with the drawings and notes, ripped up into pieces. But I also found a note. It was written in my own handwriting, but I didn’t remember writing it.

“I am the darkness,” it read. “I am the death of the light. I am the end. I am the last.”

How did I know these things? And what did they mean? I wished I could remember. I wished I knew how to stop him.

I went to the library and left a message for the librarians. I told them that I was going to be away for a while, and that I wanted them to keep my research documents in a safety deposit box. I told them that I wanted them to call my mother and let her know.

Then I went to the observatory tower. I climbed all the way to the top. I waited until nightfall, and then I jumped.

I knew that he would be there. I knew that he would save me from the fall. I knew that he would take me back to the shed and break me into pieces.