I stand in the midst of wonder wondering why I stand in the first place. Not by a chance of interstellar explosion, but by hand I am crafted. My spirit and soul are sown into one making me who I am. I stand selfishly thinking the effect the world has on me, when I should ask a reverse and converse to others the effect we have on this earth. I gaze in the stars to form an opinion of why this light in my life is burning so bright, burning like the sun. The sun is simply a star, but the son is anything but simple. The stardust thus express deeply the desires of stating that this world is anything but ordinary. Even now on the mountaintop looking down into the valley. The amount of life stories amounting to a number uncountable by only one man. Although not fathomable He knows every quote expressing in great detail the plot and characters as if it was more than read. Yet it was published by the hand who guides me through this terrible sea. Seen as trails but those demons only come out with prayer and fasting. This lack of food feeds more than my soul, it feeds my being, my beliefs, my thinking. The belief that thinking is the result of my being. Yet only now known is the thought that my being is a result of believing. Belief is a tragedy though because you often learn things you don’t want to know.
Knowledge is said to be power, yet I express to myself and my closet friends that knowledge gives way to wisdom, which creates a humble man. Only then can we, who think so highly of ourselves, to see the kingdom. Placed low for those who can’t reach perfection to obtain it. Thus throw open the golden gates and enter in my good and faithful servant.

This is a story of man who defied all odds, and his name was Henry Fredrick. Henry rides the train every morning on his daily commute to the city, which is where he works. He is a repairman for Azrael Medical Center, a local hospital. Henry is a single man who lives alone and does not like to keep company very often. As said before, he takes the train from his residence located in the outskirts of the town. He seldom makes friends, but the friends he does have keep in good rapport with him. T’was the first week of April in the year 1987, that he departed like any other day when suddenly the train derailed. He was tossed about from roof to floor, and this vicious cycle continued until he was left lying on top of someone else’s luggage. Henry laid there for quite some time fearing no one would know where to look, and he began to think what he could have done better in his life. The only thought he had was of his death. Trying to rid himself of this misery he began to ask why he did not simply buy a car and take that to work instead of the train. The train was so close and inviting to Henry because he could spend time alone to think before having to deal with the occupational world. A few hours were spent and he finally attempted to move his carcass so that he could perhaps be found. He struggled to crawl up to the door, the only escape route. That’s when the feeling hit him, like someone was watching him or planning his demise. Henry frantically looked around but saw no one. He began to yell for help when someone or something showed up. The two of their eyes met and instantaneously the two of them became preoccupied with the other. As Henry began to widen his gaze from those engulfing red eyes, he notices that indeed that thing that was watching him was a dog. The dog grabbed onto Henry’s shirt puling him from the wreckage. The dog seemed to have supernatural strength and Henry felt as if he was floating on air being carried on the shoulders of some strange beast, but was most likely due to the fact that he lost basically all of his blood. The dog dragged Henry’s broken body to the street, and that is where Henry blacked out.

He arose from a stupor to find himself resting in a bed, much like the ones he maintained at Azrael. He realized that he was in fact at the very same hospital. The Doctor came and asked, “How are you doing?” Henry knew of this Doctor, but he has not ever carried on a conversation with him. Henry thought to himself, “What is his name? Dr. something with a ‘L’ or yeah Dr. Lance.” Henry replies, “Not well Dr. Lance.” The look of amazement on the Doctors face made Henry smile, and Dr. Lance explains, “Henry you were in an awful train accident, and you are the sole survivor.” Henry shook his head in agreement, and he asked how long he has to stay in the hospital. He hated it there because he always felt so enclosed and close to death. The Dr. answered, “Not long. Just until tomorrow.” The two said their good byes, and Henry was off to the first night of many where he would not get much sleep. The nightmares were too horrific for his mind to contain, and he often woke startled because he was screaming. The dreams were different each time, but all had the same underlying idea: his death. The first dream started with him on the train and he had to relive that event over and over. It played close to fifteen times before the sun rose. It was a bright morning with chirping birds and the smell of flowers, but all Henry could see was the death coming in and out of the hospital, which he never really noticed before. He arrived home and waiting on the porch was the dog that saved him the night before. Henry approached cautiously because those eyes looked deep within him. Henry reached the door and yelled for the dog to leave, but the dog sat quietly. Not in a peaceful kind of way but an almost waiting for something.
Later that night it began raining. He was about to dive into another sporadic sleep cycle when the dog outside began barking. Henry leaped to his feet because he knew someone was there, and that stupid dog was the reason for it. Henry walked to the door and belted out for him to leave because no way in hell was that dog going to get in. Eventually Henry felt remorseful because the dog did indeed save him, and if the dog were not a canine then Henry would have thanked him properly. Reluctantly Henry let in the dog, and he scampered over to the fireplace to take his resting spot. Henry went to sleep, but before making it to his room he passes the open window. Henry goes to close it and sees in the distance a shadowy figure standing in the downpour. There stood an outline of a man wearing all black with a small-rimmed hat to keep the rain out of his eyes. Henry shrieked and slammed the windows shut with violent force. “I knew it! I knew it! Someone is watching me but whom? Who would stand there in the rain like that?” Henry’s mind began to derail much like the train he was on less than 32 hours before. After a few hours of worry, Henry talked himself into believing that the figure was merely a shadow of a tree, a bush that needed mending, or perhaps a repercussion of the accident. Henry rested his heavy eyes and began to fall asleep, but deep down he knew something was watching his every move.

The next morning he rose to find the dog still sleeping next to the fire. Henry began to pet him to show the gratitude for saving his life. The dog felt hot like the fire and smelt almost like sulfur. Henry decided to ditch work for the next couple of days figuring he needed a vacation. Thus, Henry and the dog went on a walk around the forest residing behind Henry’s house. As the two of them stepped into the dense sea of trees, Henry saw on the floor a set of footprints. Seeing those footprints made the night before even more real for him and he dropped to his knees and wept. The dog began to lick his face with an air of happiness. “You’re right dog. I mustn’t be so dramatic. I mean I am alive right?” The dog started off into the woods with Henry soon following after. After a long walk the two of them began back for the house. Right before exiting the forest, Henry noticed that there was something ascribed on to the tree:
                                                           ­  DEATH is closer to you than you think
Henry knew this was the work of the figure he saw outside the night before, but the question remains was it a prankster kid, someone with a grudge that Henry was the only survivor, or in some other extreme explanation this was death himself.
Henry cooked rabbit stew for dinner, just like the one his mother made. He gave some to the dog, which lasted a matter of minutes. Henry was starting to like the stupid dog and considered that canine his only friend. The only one he could talk to or feel his pain of life. In mid conversation Henry got the chills, and the dog started barking at seemingly nothing. However as Henry went to quiet the dog, he heard footsteps on the porch. Henry grabbed his rifle and headed for the front door. He flung the door open with barrel raised eye level and ready to fire on any moving creature. In the distance was that same figure walking away in a gliding fashion. On the door was a note hung by a oversized metal “X.” Henry tore the paper off the door and read aloud the words:
                                                          ­  DEATH is closer to you than you think
                                                          ­            and he can smell your fears
Instantaneously, the dog begins to bark and growl at the mere words read aloud. That’s why you’re here boy isn’t it? You’re here to keep me safe. Henry went back to the front door and grabbed hold of the object lunged into the wood, and he pulled it out to see that indeed is was not an “X” but a cross. The sharp edge on one side dug into Henry’s flesh tearing off just a small piece. The blood ran like a river on the floor. The dog started to gnaw at his leg, so henry tried to quiet him by reaching down. The dog licked his hand and it blistered and caused a shooting pain throughout his body, but the open wound was now sealed shut. Henry turned to see the dog lapping up the spilt blood, so Henry went to the couch and fell asleep.

Henry awoke from another nightmare. He was paddling down stream when he struck a boulder, which caused the boat to topside. He was swirled around gasping for air, but only inhaled lungs full of water. The water however was not water at all, but a vast expanse of blood. He awoke to a sweaty forehead and shallow breathes. There it was again, that feeling of being watched. The feeling Henry said was an almost waiting for something to happen. Henry arose to see the dog over by the fire staring at him, most likely because of the screams. The dog laid his head down and closed his eyes. Henry now restless went to the kitchen to get a drink. He poured a glass of bourbon with two ice cubes and made his way back to the couch. Passing the closed window, Henry felt compelled to check the darkness. Henry opened the blinds to see that hat bouncing off in the darkness. Henry tried to keep quiet so the dog would not wake and start barking, alerting the figure outside. Henry snuck out and tiptoed on the freshly dewed grass. He was within twenty paces of the man with the small-rimmed hat. When suddenly, the man turned and looked into the eyes of Henry, much like the dog did on the night of the accident. His fear rose and that monster housed in the resemblance of man spoke a rhyme:
                                                          ­     DEATH is closer to you than you think,
                                                         ­                and he can smell your fear.
                                                          ­   DEATH is watching closer than you know,
                                                          ­                   and he is always near.
Henry was frozen from the chilling words. When he heard a noise to break him from his catatonic state. The dog was awake, barking, and heading straight for the source of Henry’s misery. Henry turned to see the dog sprinting right at him. Henry turned back to look at the man who spoke with such profound words, but alas the man was gone. The dog could not stop in time and toppled Henry over. The dog stood on Henry’s back declaring to the night’s darkness that Henry was his.
Henry awoke from another night of terror, but this time he died. The dream was black and white and lacked any other color, including grey. The scenery was a sharp contrast between dark and bright lines. He was being chased through the house but each room lead to another hallway to more rooms and so on and so on went the dream. Until this monster appeared out of the fireplace. It took two steps and then transformed into a train heading with full force to hit Henry. And it did. The train tore right through the skin, bones, and muscle of Henry’s body. He felt the full pain of it, and woke crying from sheer agony. Henry sat up in his bed and was motionless until he decided that work would take his mind off things.

Henry bikes to the train station to face his fear and go into the city again. He makes it to the station and waits listening to the wind whistling quietly. He rests his eyes and is startled by the horn of the train. As he gathers his belongings and thoughts, he climbs upon the death trap. He is taken back as he places his foot on the step to the train; he hears a whisper say, “Death is closer than you think.” Knowing it was only his mind playing tricks, he steps in. The fear subsides as the train pulls out of port, and Henry quiets his cognitive dissonance saying to himself out loud, “it was only a freak accident.” As the spot for the last derailment approaches, his palms sweat and heart fills causing in to sink to his feet. Although, the crime scene passes, and so does his fear. Henry arrives to his destination and could not get off the train any faster. Thinking to himself, “That was a stupid idea, but now I’m here so no fretting.” Henry makes it to work and starts his daily routines, but eerie is his thoughts. Every sound causes the dreaded words to play back in his mind with enormous intensity.
                                                      ­        DEATH is closer to you than you think,
                                                         ­                and he can smell your fear.
                                                          ­ DEATH is watching closer than you know,
                                                          ­                  *and he is always near. *
Henry tries to shake off the feeling, but that just makes it worse. The traffic that comes with the hustle of a hospital is not helping at all, and causes Henry to constantly check over his shoulder. With each glance, he is expecting to see that black trench coat with the small-rimmed hat. Henry closes his eyes to keep from running, but that causes his nightmare to birth into a vivid picture. This makes Henry dart into to bathroom to throw up, and ultimately taking vacancy on the toilet seat. Through the crack he sees the man again. There stood the tall dark figure replacing his hat. Henry spoke no sound, not even a breath, to keep his location secret. Eventually the man leaves, and Henry believes his mind has gone crazy.