"Crap, was I bringing the eye of newt?"
Three pairs of eyes stared at the ruddy-faced man as he pat his pockets with a exaggerated look of shame.
"Why do you always have to be an ass, Jerry?" The first tall woman in black rolled her eyes.
"Does he really need to be here?" asked the second.
"It was his idea. He should be here in case the thing gets hungry."
The other man in the party drew his hood down over his eyes and drew a heavy breath. "Can we just finish this? I've got an opening to attend in the morning and I need my four and a half hours."
"We'd be done by now if Jerry would keep his mouth shut." The first tall woman raised the yellowed book again and furrowed her brow over the long, winding loops of writing on its page. She coughed to stall for time as her eyes scanned line after line, and Jerry tapped his foot all the while.
"Lose your place?" he finally asked.
She tossed the ancient tome in the air. "Why do you have to make this so hard? I swear to God, it's like you want those bastards to win."
"I'm just trying to have a little fun before we sign our souls to the devil. Besides, not every devil wants a buncha boring blocks of wood for followers. Confidence attracts the like, after all."
"And just what kind of churlish devil do you hope to attract?" The other man wheezed and sputtered as he spoke, and Jerry couldn't stifle a laugh at his discomfort.
"The kind who knows how to tell his real servants apart from the sacrifice."
Four pairs of eyes stared at the ruddy-faced man as he crossed his arms and winked.
Friday, January 27, 2017
Friday, January 20, 2017
[#067] Only Those
Every springtime, on the third of March, twelve figures gather around the well behind the high school on the western end of Summerdown Grove. Eleven of them are children, dragged kicking to the rim by the last. This last is different every year, chosen from a lottery of the 1300 adults left in town.
But the eleven are always the same.
The twelfth knows a secret. The twelfth knows a command the children cannot break, names passed down a hundred years since the last time the ritual failed, the last time the cows died on their feet and rotted standing in the fields, the last season the adults woke up to missing sons and daughters and to fields of burning grass. Today the twelfth has never known this fear, and still they chase their duty.
For the twelfth knows how to find them, and the twelfth knows how to tell.
Not all children in the Grove are human, and only those who speak the names can see.
Only those who speak the names can hold the cycle for another year.
Friday, January 13, 2017
[#066] The Dare
"Now turn your flashlight off and step backwards down through the cellar door, staring up at the full moon as you walk."
Cass grinned at Jeffrey. Jeffrey shared a glance with Park before the two teenage boys frowned at her.
"Are you serious?" Park asked. "You're trying to get us killed, aren't you?"
Jeffrey gazed up at the filthy, brutal building before them. A yellowed stucco wall stretched about forty feet from end to end, unbroken but for three narrow window-slits left to drip in natural light. They were hung too high for anyone to peer through and spy the nasty work within the structure, which rumor held had been a butcher shop back in the 70s, before the big factory up the street closed and sent half the town packing for a better future. Brick walls over both the doors prevented access, though some enterprising explorer had managed to snap the chain wound around the big twin doors leading down into the shop's basement.
The girl sighed and rolled her eyes. "Alright, guess I win then. Cowards."
"Hold up, that's not even fair!" Jeffrey cried. "I made you hop the fence and find my baseball in the creepy railyard. We could fall over and break our necks on this!"
Park crossed his arms. "I mean, that was a pretty high fence."
"She found a way around it! I didn't even know there was a gap behind the tree, so she obviously had a better chance at it than we do!"
Moonlight filtered blue and spotty through the clouds, dancing with the shadows across the wall above them. Off and on a bright glow would flicker from somewhere within the building, like a hand waving in front of a torch a few seconds at a go. Jeff didn't like the way that light glinted off Cass's eyes.
"Right." Cass smirked. "You didn't know about the hole, so you had no problem asking me to climb a ten-foot fence."
"Alright, fine, maybe it was a little dangerous. But who knows how rickety the staircase is?" Jeff turned away from her, hoping to hide the sweat glistening on his forehead. He shined his light down the steps and illuminated the bottom some twelve feet down. The concrete floor of the basement laid out clear beneath them save a thin, uneven coat of sawdust, and the wooden railings mounted to either side of the wall still looked sturdy.
"Uh..." Jeffrey added.
"Still think it's a death trap?"
Jeffrey gazed at Cass, whose smile verged on mania. She had won, and he knew it. The basement's inviting appearance made it seem an easy dare. This terrified him, but the one thing he could not do was look like a chicken in front of his older brother.
He turned to Park, who looked oblivious to whatever invisible alarm had tapped Jeffrey's brain. Park shrugged and positioned himself at the top of the steps, pointing his gaze up at the moon after double-checking his grip on the banister. Jeffrey sighed and took his place beside the older boy, shutting down his flashlight and leaving Cass in silhouette against the moon. She stood before them, her face lit only by the intermittent glow within the shop. He shivered each time the light from the window illuminated her piercing stare, which grew colder as the pace of the torchlight quickened.
"Count of three," Cass whispered in the darkness.
"Three." Flash, and her face lit up thin and sallow.
"Two." Flash, and her face lit up thinner than possible, inhumanly angular, as though the light had caught her changing shape right before them.
"What the hell--" cried Jeffrey, but he was too late.
"One!" Cass roared as she charged at them. A solid shove with each hand sent the boys tumbling over each other into the shadows of the basement.
Red haze thundered through his eyes as Jeffrey fought to stay conscious. He placed his weight on his palms to struggle upright, crying out in pain as he drove the hard chunks of sawdust piercing him deeper through his flesh. Park sprawled out next to him, a copper halo seeping out into the air around his head as though the two lay underwater. Something enormous snorted and shuffled in the corners with elephantine footsteps, and Jeffrey picked up the torch and swept it across the room. The beam traveled no further than the narrow band of moonlight filtering down the steps, the moonlight now shadowing a figure unlike the girl he'd met at the neighborhood block party.
Cass now stood much taller and thinner, or she would if her spine hadn't bent in three places, giving her the look of a question mark with arms and legs. Her arms stretched out to her sides for several feet longer than they should, grasping the handles of the doors and pulling them closed. Something slithered from her mouth just before the doors shut, and she whispered once more down the stairs in a choked mockery of her former voice:
"Two more for the harvest, mother. You'll be free soon enough."
Cass grinned at Jeffrey. Jeffrey shared a glance with Park before the two teenage boys frowned at her.
"Are you serious?" Park asked. "You're trying to get us killed, aren't you?"
Jeffrey gazed up at the filthy, brutal building before them. A yellowed stucco wall stretched about forty feet from end to end, unbroken but for three narrow window-slits left to drip in natural light. They were hung too high for anyone to peer through and spy the nasty work within the structure, which rumor held had been a butcher shop back in the 70s, before the big factory up the street closed and sent half the town packing for a better future. Brick walls over both the doors prevented access, though some enterprising explorer had managed to snap the chain wound around the big twin doors leading down into the shop's basement.
The girl sighed and rolled her eyes. "Alright, guess I win then. Cowards."
"Hold up, that's not even fair!" Jeffrey cried. "I made you hop the fence and find my baseball in the creepy railyard. We could fall over and break our necks on this!"
Park crossed his arms. "I mean, that was a pretty high fence."
"She found a way around it! I didn't even know there was a gap behind the tree, so she obviously had a better chance at it than we do!"
Moonlight filtered blue and spotty through the clouds, dancing with the shadows across the wall above them. Off and on a bright glow would flicker from somewhere within the building, like a hand waving in front of a torch a few seconds at a go. Jeff didn't like the way that light glinted off Cass's eyes.
"Right." Cass smirked. "You didn't know about the hole, so you had no problem asking me to climb a ten-foot fence."
"Alright, fine, maybe it was a little dangerous. But who knows how rickety the staircase is?" Jeff turned away from her, hoping to hide the sweat glistening on his forehead. He shined his light down the steps and illuminated the bottom some twelve feet down. The concrete floor of the basement laid out clear beneath them save a thin, uneven coat of sawdust, and the wooden railings mounted to either side of the wall still looked sturdy.
"Uh..." Jeffrey added.
"Still think it's a death trap?"
Jeffrey gazed at Cass, whose smile verged on mania. She had won, and he knew it. The basement's inviting appearance made it seem an easy dare. This terrified him, but the one thing he could not do was look like a chicken in front of his older brother.
He turned to Park, who looked oblivious to whatever invisible alarm had tapped Jeffrey's brain. Park shrugged and positioned himself at the top of the steps, pointing his gaze up at the moon after double-checking his grip on the banister. Jeffrey sighed and took his place beside the older boy, shutting down his flashlight and leaving Cass in silhouette against the moon. She stood before them, her face lit only by the intermittent glow within the shop. He shivered each time the light from the window illuminated her piercing stare, which grew colder as the pace of the torchlight quickened.
"Count of three," Cass whispered in the darkness.
"Three." Flash, and her face lit up thin and sallow.
"Two." Flash, and her face lit up thinner than possible, inhumanly angular, as though the light had caught her changing shape right before them.
"What the hell--" cried Jeffrey, but he was too late.
"One!" Cass roared as she charged at them. A solid shove with each hand sent the boys tumbling over each other into the shadows of the basement.
Red haze thundered through his eyes as Jeffrey fought to stay conscious. He placed his weight on his palms to struggle upright, crying out in pain as he drove the hard chunks of sawdust piercing him deeper through his flesh. Park sprawled out next to him, a copper halo seeping out into the air around his head as though the two lay underwater. Something enormous snorted and shuffled in the corners with elephantine footsteps, and Jeffrey picked up the torch and swept it across the room. The beam traveled no further than the narrow band of moonlight filtering down the steps, the moonlight now shadowing a figure unlike the girl he'd met at the neighborhood block party.
Cass now stood much taller and thinner, or she would if her spine hadn't bent in three places, giving her the look of a question mark with arms and legs. Her arms stretched out to her sides for several feet longer than they should, grasping the handles of the doors and pulling them closed. Something slithered from her mouth just before the doors shut, and she whispered once more down the stairs in a choked mockery of her former voice:
"Two more for the harvest, mother. You'll be free soon enough."
Friday, January 6, 2017
[#065] A Bell Rang Out
Coffee spilled over the lip of my mug as I slammed it down on the counter and leaned over the kitchen sink, eyes tracing the cornfield swaying for miles across our property. Clouds strangled out the moonlight, cloaking the rows in darkness. Nothing stirred where I could see, and I cursed and checked my watch.
Eleven-fifty-three. I swore I heard a bell, but it wasn't time yet. Perhaps they'd just begun to gather.
The shotgun he left by the nightstand felt good in my hands. I racked it like he showed me, and I found the sound intoxicating. The coffee tasted better with his whiskey in it, and the warmth it poured down my throat made it easier to swallow the task ahead of me.
Eleven-fifty-six. I leaned back in the chair with the mug and the shotgun. The ceiling creaked above me, and I worried he was up too soon. Perhaps the sound of the gun had woken him and put the plan at risk... Far harder to disguise a gunshot wound than what they'd do to him.
I paused and listened for the hinges. By now he'd noticed the gun was missing, and he'd have to reach for the safe if he wanted some other protection. I'll hide in the cabinet beneath the stairs, I thought. He won't see it coming.
But that won't stop them. I'd already paid for their services, and dearly. And once they were called, they wouldn't leave until they were fed.
I glanced at my watch.
Eleven-fifty-eight. Something scratched at the door outside, too low to sight through the window. A smile crept across my face, and only the slightest pang of guilt shivered down my spine as I thought of what my mum would say if could see me.
The first step creaked above, and the cabinet door beneath the stairs shut without a sound behind me. I held the shotgun tight across my chest and sucked in all my breath, freezing myself so fast I felt for sure I would have fooled a mouse.
But he saw.
The door flew open faster than I expected, his wild eyes piercing through the dark just before the muzzle flashed. I leapt backward from the force and he stared in horror, clutching the giant hole in his chest as he slid to his knees and toppled over.
A bell rang out in the darkness.
It was midnight, and the only living meal in sight was me. I closed my eyes and breathed my first and last as a free woman just before the back door of the house burst open and first claws scratched their way across the kitchen floor.
Eleven-fifty-three. I swore I heard a bell, but it wasn't time yet. Perhaps they'd just begun to gather.
The shotgun he left by the nightstand felt good in my hands. I racked it like he showed me, and I found the sound intoxicating. The coffee tasted better with his whiskey in it, and the warmth it poured down my throat made it easier to swallow the task ahead of me.
Eleven-fifty-six. I leaned back in the chair with the mug and the shotgun. The ceiling creaked above me, and I worried he was up too soon. Perhaps the sound of the gun had woken him and put the plan at risk... Far harder to disguise a gunshot wound than what they'd do to him.
I paused and listened for the hinges. By now he'd noticed the gun was missing, and he'd have to reach for the safe if he wanted some other protection. I'll hide in the cabinet beneath the stairs, I thought. He won't see it coming.
But that won't stop them. I'd already paid for their services, and dearly. And once they were called, they wouldn't leave until they were fed.
I glanced at my watch.
Eleven-fifty-eight. Something scratched at the door outside, too low to sight through the window. A smile crept across my face, and only the slightest pang of guilt shivered down my spine as I thought of what my mum would say if could see me.
The first step creaked above, and the cabinet door beneath the stairs shut without a sound behind me. I held the shotgun tight across my chest and sucked in all my breath, freezing myself so fast I felt for sure I would have fooled a mouse.
But he saw.
The door flew open faster than I expected, his wild eyes piercing through the dark just before the muzzle flashed. I leapt backward from the force and he stared in horror, clutching the giant hole in his chest as he slid to his knees and toppled over.
A bell rang out in the darkness.
It was midnight, and the only living meal in sight was me. I closed my eyes and breathed my first and last as a free woman just before the back door of the house burst open and first claws scratched their way across the kitchen floor.
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