Writer’s Spotlight: Devyn Balfe

Writer: Devyn Balfe

Devyn is a political science major with an English minor (which she hopes to change to a double major soon!). She has previously had poems published in her local newspaper and hopes to someday pursue a career as an author. Her inspiration has always came from horror authors like Stephan King, as well as the stories her grandma use to tell her when she was young. 

Midnight Study Break

The vibration of my phone gave me the courage to reopen my eyes. I sighed as the soft glow of the library lights numbed my brain, the blinking cursor taunting me on the blank document that sat on the table. Amongst the fourteen tabs that crowded the screen were graphs I couldn’t make any sense of and an email that felt like it would fill with a new assignment every minute. The buzzing continued as I pulled the phone from my sweatshirt pocket and read through the many texts that filled our sorority group chat; each one a reminder to not be late for tonight's festivities. 

I looked back at the computer as I began to gather my things; the stark nothingness of my progress only brought me even closer to a migraine. I felt like I was in my own little world; the once full library now empty from the passage of time. I weaved through the towering shelves and checked my watch; 11:30 pm gave me just enough time to make it back before 12:00. Stillness enveloped me as I stepped into the night and the cold autumn air breezed through my thick hoodie. The empty lecture halls stood tall around me, casting deep shadows around the sparse lamp posts. I walked, crunching the leaves on the sidewalk beneath my boots and staring deeply into the fullest moon I’d ever seen.  Night was still, and the release from my academic prison was ever affirming as I walked on. 

 I rounded the corner of the nearest building and  began to head towards the looming fence that stood before me. Students called this hill the Road to Victory; as the most convenient walk through campus was nestled right between the soccer field that won our league championship and our state of the art football stadium. As the giant fields loomed near, my shadow danced under the lamppost in front of me; temporarily illuminating a small part of the path.  I kept pace with my shadow friend, marveling at her sudden reappearance with every spotlight. 

Just as the time reached 11:45 I neared the top of the hill but was taken off guard by the figure who stood at the bottom; the hooded character leaning casually against the exit gate. I crossed to the other side of the walkway as I popped my headphones into my ears; determined to swiftly pass by the stranger and not get caught in a conversation that could delay my arrival. Sociability was never my strongest asset and my many nights spent watching horror movies always attributed to my fear of strangers. My phone continued to buzz and the urgency caused the hairs on the back of my neck to prickle the slightest bit. 

As I passed the figure I adjusted my bag in an effort to look distracted, which proved to be futile as the man lifted his head while I walked by.  My hand subconsciously fumbled for the volume button on my phone, the dull pulsing music rising to a roar in my ears as I quickened my pace. I continued to walk, resisting the urge to check behind me while also trying to appear as unsuspicious as possible. I tumbled past the gate; the time constraint becoming ever apparent as the buzzing in my pocket became more frequent. Just when I thought I had put enough distance to ease my weariness, the sight behind me caused all of my blood to run cold. The hooded man’s dark eyes seemed to glow within the shadows that concealed him; his arm outstretched as he shuffled towards me. 

Millions of scenarios flashed through my head as I spun on my heels; the consequences becoming more and more dire as the stranger gained ground. My breath hitched in my throat as I looked for an escape; my feet carrying me blindly down the path. I could feel his presence behind me and the horror of it all creeped through my skin. 

I ran; the moon raced me with a taunting glow above my head. Sweat and anxiety seeped through my heavy clothes, my headphones falling free and the thud of my boots being the only sound to break through the pounding of my heartbeat in my ears. By the time I had ran out of breath I had found myself deep in the recesses of the woods that bordered campus; the fear of the attack being swallowed by the dull chirp of secades. 

I dropped to my knees, swallowing a deep gulp of the cold night air and digging my hands into the cool soil that cushioned the ground. Escape felt sweet as the moon loomed above; but the faint snap of a twig behind me brought me back to reality. 

Hey Chick, you dropped this….

My wallet made a thud beside me as the man tossed it, his breath frantic and his frustration sharpening his tone. I whipped my head toward the voice and tried to shuffle away.

STAY AWAY FROM ME!

Jesus Christ, I was just giving that back I'm not gonna hurt you!

That wasn’t what I was afraid of.  The pain hit me like a freight train and I knew it was too late for me to try and move; the nature of my curse clawing desperately beneath my skin. I gripped the ground beneath me; sharp claws pushing their way through my fingertips and piercing through my heavy combat boots. The beast's barrel chest constricted against my clothing and ripped the fabric as easily as a knife cutting through water.  Each thin fiber of fur that forced its way through my skin brought with it the pain of ten papercuts and I couldn't help but scream. 

As the beast took hold,  my screams were morphed into its guttural growl.  I watched on in terror as it gained control of our shared body; an unwilling spectator in the massacre that was moments away. All of its senses were heightened to an unbearable level; and a deep hunger was at the agonizing forefront. The snapping of a twig drew its deadly attention to the poor soul behind it. His face was a mix of disbelief and fear but all the beast was focused on was the adrenaline wafting towards its nose. 

If I could have, I would have looked away.

The Lamron

Web editor for The Lamron, SUNY Geneseo's student newspaper since 1922.

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Unreal Unearth: Hozier’s Inferno

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Batman’s influence: Pulp Comic Films of the early 1990s