"The Final Walk" by Sebastian Westbrook

The Final Walk

by Sebastian Westbrook

Scott enjoyed long walks at night.

Every Friday at 10PM, he would take a lengthy stroll to nowhere in particular and back home again just for an hour to clear his head and unwind for the weekend ahead. Despite the often cold or wet weather and dark surroundings, he never felt uncomfortable or uneasy on these walks. It was always quite a soothing and calming experience. 

That was, until he saw her.

He was taking one of these long walks on a Friday night like any other when he came across a peculiar woman. She was standing barefoot on the other side of the road he was walking along, just staring at him. She was wearing a long, white dress that hung down to just above her ankles, and she had equally lengthy black hair, reaching just below her waist. Despite being unnerved by her silent gaze fixated on him, Scott decided to try and talk to her. 

“Excuse me, ma’am. Can I help you?” Scott called across the road to her. The strange woman did not respond. She just continued staring with this blank expression. 

Unsettled by the strange woman’s behaviour, Scott decided to find a route home that didn’t involve going back the way he came. While the strange woman wasn’t actively pursuing him, he didn’t want to stay within proximity of her long enough for her to start. 

As Scott moved further away from her, the strange woman only moved her head to face the direction he was going. She didn’t make any attempt to go after him. 

As Scott turned a corner, his blood ran cold. 

In the distance ahead, the same strange woman was waiting for him. Same clothes, same hair, same intense stare, same blank expression. Genuinely scared now, Scott looked back to see if the figure he saw previously was still there. Maybe there was more than one of her? Peeking around the corner, Scott didn’t see anyone. So if she was alone, how did she get ahead of him so fast? 

As he turned back around, the strange woman was now standing right in front of him, causing him to stumble and fall back, startled. She just watched him fall and sit up to look at her. 

“What do you want?!” Scott asked, but was met with nothing in response. Just more staring and silence. Scott got to his feet and headed in a different direction, trying to lose the strange woman.

The journey home was a nightmare. As soon as the woman left his sight, she would appear somewhere else nearby, still just watching him. However, by some sort of miracle, he actually got home without serious incident, and by the time he reached his path she was nowhere to be seen. 

Scott had never been so happy to see his front door; he got out the keys to unlock it. This would be one hell of a story to tell Martha if she was still awake. 

However, as Scott entered his home, he froze.

The strange woman was standing ahead of him in the lounge just beyond the hallway, but something about her was different this time. Her stomach was distended and swollen, as if she was pregnant.

“Martha?!” Scott called out. If this lady was in his house, he wanted to make sure she his wife was alright. No response. He called again, louder. No response again.

Scott became worried. He looked at the strange woman who was still silent and staring and addressed her with one simple question.

“What have you done with Martha?” 

The strange woman slowly patted her swollen stomach. “My baby Martha.”

Several emotions flooded his mind. Anxiety, fear, but also recognition. He now knew who she was. He’d only ever seen old photographs, but here in front of him was Martha’s mother, twenty years dead and in the time before that a permanent resident at her hometown’s mental asylum. 

As Scott processed the moment, the woman approached him. He regained control of himself and tried to find an escape route, but every time he looked away from her towards hallway exits, she would approach him from that direction, even coming down the stairs when he thought about heading up. Again, the woman was standing right in front of him.

And then she put her hands on his shoulders and turned him around.

Standing on the other side of the hallway, dressed in a similar attire to Martha’s mother, was a new woman, one he recognised immediately.

His own mother who, like Martha’s, had been dead some time. Prior to that, they had been estranged for the last fifteen years or so. In fact, problem parents had been something that had brought him and Martha together in the first place.

But here she was, as if alive, arms outstretched, seeking out an embrace.

Scott’s initial instinct was one of distress and revulsion, but as her hand touched his arm he found it oddly warm and comforting. Scott felt strangely soothed by her touch. He found himself unable to resist relaxing in her arms. His fears simply melted away, and the negative associations he had with this woman when she was alive, just vanished. His conscience knew this situation was very wrong, but as the seconds passed he felt more and more sedated.

Scott was surprised his own arms were around his mother, which was strange as he didn’t remember extending them. She seemed pleased with his response. It wasn’t clear if her smile was adoration at the affection Scott was showing her, or satisfaction that whatever effect she had on Scott was working. Either way, Scott was powerless to pull away.

After a moment, this uncanny doppelganger of his mother leaned in so that their torsos touched. He looked down and saw that her stomach had begun to swell. Then her lips were next to Scott’s ear. She took a deep breath and whispered the last words Scott would ever hear.

“My baby.”