About five years ago I lived downtown in a

major city in the US. I've always been a night

person, so I would often find myself bored

after my roommate, who was decidedly not a

night person, went to sleep. To pass the time,

I used to go for long walks and spend the time

thinking.

I spent four years like that, walking alone at

night, and never once had a reason to feel

afraid. I always used to joke with my

roommate that even the drug dealers in the

city were polite. But all of that changed in just

a few minutes of one evening.

It was a Wednesday, somewhere between

one and two in the morning, and I was

walking near a police patrolled park quite a

ways from my apartment. It was a quiet night,

even for a week night, with very little traffic

and almost no one on foot. The park, as it was

most nights, was completely empty.

I turned down a short side street in order to

loop back to my apartment when I first

noticed him. At the far end of the street, on

my side, was the silhouette of a man, dancing.

It was a strange dance, similar to a waltz, but

he finished each "box" with an odd forward

stride. I guess you could say he was dance-

walking, headed straight for me.

Deciding he was probably drunk, I stepped as

close as I could to the road to give him the

majority of the sidewalk to pass me by. The

closer he got, the more I realized how

gracefully he was moving. He was very tall

and lanky, and wearing an old suit. He danced

closer still, until I could make out his face. His

eyes were open wide and wild, head tilted

back slightly, looking off at the sky. His mouth

was formed in a painfully wide cartoon of a

smile. Between the eyes and the smile, I

decided to cross the street before he danced

any closer.

I took my eyes off of him to cross the empty

street. As I reached the other side, I glanced

back... and then stopped dead in my tracks.

He had stopped dancing and was standing

with one foot in the street, perfectly parallel to

me. He was facing me but still looking

skyward. Smile still wide on his lips.

I was completely and utterly unnerved by this.

I started walking again, but kept my eyes on

the man. He didn't move. Once I had put

about half a block between us, I turned away

from him for a moment to watch the sidewalk

in front of me. The street and sidewalk ahead

of me were completely empty. Still unnerved,

I looked back to where he had been standing

to find him gone. For the briefest of moments I

felt relieved, until I noticed him. He had

crossed the street, and was now slightly

crouched down. I couldn't tell for sure due to

the distance and the shadows, but I was

certain he was facing me. I had looked away

from him for no more than 10 seconds, so it

was clear that he had moved fast.

I was so shocked that I stood there for some

time, staring at him. And then he started

moving toward me again. He took giant,

exaggerated tip toed steps, as if he were a

cartoon character sneaking up on someone.

Except he was moving very, very quickly.

I'd like to say at this point I ran away or pulled

out my pepper spray or my cellphone or

anything at all, but I didn't. I just stood there,

completely frozen as the smiling man crept

toward me.

And then he stopped again, about a car length

away from me. Still smiling his smile, still

looking to the sky.

When I finally found my voice, I blurted out

the first thing that came to mind. What I meant

to ask was, "What do you want?!" in an angry,

commanding tone. What came out was a

whimper: "Whaaat...?"

Regardless of whether or not humans can

smell fear, they can certainly hear it. I heard it

in my own voice, and that only made me more

afraid. But he didn't react to it at all. He just

stood there, smiling.

And then, after what felt like forever, he

turned around, very slowly, and started

dance-walking away. Just like that. Not

wanting to turn my back to him again, I just

watched him go, until he was far enough away

to almost be out of sight. And then I realized

something. He wasn't moving away anymore,

nor was he dancing. I watched in horror as

the distant shape of him grew larger and

larger. He was coming back my way.

And this time he was running.

I ran until I was off of the side road and back

onto a better lit road with sparse traffic.

Looking behind me then, he was nowhere to

be found. The rest of the way home, I kept

glancing over my shoulder, always expecting

to see his stupid smile, but he was never

there.

I lived in that city for six months after that

night, and I never went out for another walk.

There was something about his face that

always haunted me. He didn't look drunk, he

didn't look high. He looked completely and

utterly insane. And that's a very, very scary

thing to see.