 
### EDGE OF TWILIGHT

By: Matt Wildasin

By Matthew Wildasin

Copyright 2018 Matthew Wildasin

Smashwords Edition

Smashwords Edition, License Notes

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you're reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

Table of Contents

The Stairs

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Silent Cove

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

It Dwells

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

A Walk on a Winter's Night

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4
The Stairs

Chapter 1.

"Alright everyone! That concludes the briefing. Remember, keep your walkies on channel 10 and report anything of interest." Captain Wallace said

Another day, another missing person to locate. Summer was chock full of these instances for the Search and Rescue Division of Pine Needle National Forest. Starting from late March into the latter part of November, the extraction crew is constantly busy.

"Martin, you will be buddying up with Vanessa, since this is your first rodeo. When you get back into HQ, I will be happy to give you the proper meet and greet. Sorry that this came up as soon as you walked in the door." Wallace said

Martin was a transfer from Pennsylvania. He went through all the training and excelled in most categories. The only problem was, he was in a small park system that really didn't need a Search and Rescue team, he was laid off most of the busy season and, with a family to support, that was not feasible. With nothing to lose, he put out a bunch of request letters and resumes for openings to all the biggest park systems in the U.S. Pine Needle just happened to be the first to respond.

The briefing concluded, and the assigned groups piled their gear into their SUVs. Vanessa and Martin climbed into the vehicle without muttering a word or shooting a glance towards each other. The ride was a bit tense at first until Vanessa decided to break the ice.

"So, you're not one of those "super cop" types, are you? I mean, I'm not going to have to fight you over ever little piece of advice I have to give, am I?"

"No ma'am" Martin softly replied

This made Vanessa chuckle under her breath, "Ma'am? Listen newbie, you don't have to lay on that ma'am or sir crap around us...well maybe with Captain Wallace; is the 'honor of the rank' type of guy. The rest of us just prefer to be called by name."

Martin let out a sigh of relief." Thank God! The last group I worked with was a bunch of tight-assed brown-nosers." If you weren't kissing ass or acting like you were in the Marines, you weren't getting the best jobs...or any at all for that matter."

Vanessa, switching from looking at Martin to paying attention to the road, motioned her head in the direction of a day pack in the backseat. "Can you grab the map out of my bag? Wallace does a fair job at briefing, but he is absolute garbage at planning out the most efficient routes to the target area."

Martin was a bit miffed by Vanessa just shrugging off his history story but being new and wanting desperately to make a good first impression, he shrugged it off.

"Which pocket is it in?" Martin asked

"The second zipper from the back!

Suddenly, the car jerked forward sending Martin's ass against the dashboard.

"Hold on, things are about to get pretty bumpy." Vanessa said

Martin shot Vanessa a glance that said, "Thanks for the fucking heads up!"

With that, the SUV jolted about, creaking and clunking in agony as it careened between potholes the size of canyons.

Martin regained his position, but the abrupt rocking once again made Martin lose his balance and bounce about. This time, his ass was rubbing against Vanessa's forearm.

"Just get that map rook, no need to get fresh on me here," Vanessa bantered

Martin laughed. "Ha! You wish!"

Vanessa seemed to become a bit flushed in the face, but she deterred it quickly, laughing off her discomposure.

"Good one! You might fit in well here after all," she then unimpededly slapped Martin on his bum.

Even though he was married, getting attention for another woman like that was still flattering and Vanessa, much like Martin's wife, had the same features that drove him crazy. Dark eyes, dark brown curly hair and a build that was strong but curvy in all the right places. Still, he loved his wife very much and never let any urges get in the way of that.

Martin laughed to break the tension that he assumed was in the air and continued to look for the map. Confused, Martin called over his shoulder, "I thought you said it was in the second to last pocket?"

Martin could hear the crunching of the shocks beneath the car as they careened from bump to bump. He couldn't see the trail outside, but if he was to take a guess, it was probably littered with tree roots and large rocks with the way Vanessa was driving.

"Yeah, second to the last pocket. By last, I mean from the back," she replied

Quietly, Martin zipped the second pocket from the front of the pack shut. Taking her eyes off the trail for a split-second, Vanessa glanced over her shoulder and caught Martin trying to cover his mistake.

"Jesus! What part of second-from-the-last pocket is so hard to understand?!" she yelled.

Vanessa let out a deep frustrated sigh, and added, "You're just like my husband; he's a dunce too."

Martin spun back around in his seat, fastening himself in. "Well, I may be a dunce, but I'm not the one that decided to forget to pack the map."

Vanessa slammed on the breaks, making the car skid and lurch over a couple of rocks and large roots before coming to a complete stop. A thick cloud of reddish earthen dust enveloped the SUV and seeped through the cracked windows of the car. The dust cloud added a bit of a horrific suspense to the eerie silence that had befallen them.

Martin, who instinctively clung to the seat for dear life, froze in his chair not moving a single muscle, as if it would render him invisible to her. A little trick that he picked up from Alan Grant in Jurassic Park. He wasn't quite sure if Vanessa's sudden silence was because of her making such a 'rookie' mistake, or the fact that he was the one that pointed it out.

"Hey, its ok," Martin carefully said.

Slowly moving back into his seat, Martin continued, "We were excited to get out and start locating this girl. We aren't too far from the station; we could go back and—"

Vanessa shot a look at Martin that seemed to say, if you say one more word, I am going to rip your tongue out. She completed the message by bringing a hand to her lips and motioning for him to zip it.

"Yes Ma—"

"DON'T SAY MA'AM!!"

They sat for a moment or two, just idling in the middle of nowhere with nothing but the somber sounds of the forest accompanying them.

Vanessa finally spoke after letting out one last sigh, "Ok. First, we are not going back to get the map because, if Wallace catches me, I will never hear the end of this from the guys."

"I could—" Martin tried to speak up before Vanessa made the motion for him to zip it again.

"Second, YOU" Vanessa exclaimed while pushing a finger into Martin's chest "Are not going to take the blame for this because I" she stated as she moved the abusive finger from Martin's chest to point at her face. "Am your trainee. So, that would only make things worse for me.

Vanessa returned her hands to the wheel, casting her glance down the rudimentary trail before them and rationalized. "What we are going to do is just follow this trail because more than likely, Wallace was just going to have us do that anyway because he doesn't want us going too far from the trails."

Martin raised his hand, like an elementary school student.

"Really? We are doing this now?" Vanessa asked, irritated.

"Well, you didn't want me to talk!" Martin decided to lay off the sass and calmly added, "Anyway, why aren't we allowed to go off the trails? Back in my neck of the woods-"

Interrupting him, Vanessa said, "Really? Puns now?"

Frowning, Martin rephrased his statement, "Where I come from, going off the trail was encouraged for optimum success on retrieving the target. You mean to tell me that you guys have a high success rate without straying far? I don't believe that one bit."

Vanessa seemed to get even more angry as Martin questioned their protocol. Martin could hear the leather of the steering wheel creek as Vanessa's grip on the wheel tightened. Her knuckles were turning white as her gaze remained fixed to the road before them.

"Why?" Martin asked, demanding an answer.

"Look, I'm really not supposed to go into it with you until you make it past your ninety-day trial." Vanessa quipped, appearing nervous, she then continued, "We are actually supposed to be just looking on this trail and only the trail, that's why...that's why..."

Vanessa trailed off, realizing that she might have said too much. She began panicking, with a far-off look in her eyes as she pecked her bottom lip.

"Why, what?" Martin asked, after a few moments of silence passed between them.

Vanessa continued her shocked stare, turning her head and casting her gaze out her side window. She loosened her death grip on the steering wheel and rested her hands in her lap, nervously picking away her nails.

Martin wasn't going to stand for not being told the truth, especially when he felt that he should have known everything before venturing off on this mission in the unknown.

Martin had a feeling that the truth wasn't going to come easy; however, luckily for him, he liked to use a tactic that his six-year old son taught him.

He tapped Vanessa on the arm, and innocently asked, "Vanessa?"

Vanessa cast her gaze over at Martin, "Hmm?" she replied.

Taking in a deep breath, Martin began his interrogation, "Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why?"

About three whys in, Vanessa stopped picking her nails and shot her hands to her ears with lighting speed to cover them. Once that wasn't enough to calm the insanity, she began to lightly bang her head against the steering wheel.

Martin continued his barrage, now shouting at her, "Why?! Why?! Why?! Why?! Wh—"

Vanessa had reached her limit. She threw her right hand out and covered up Martin's mouth while making a shushing motion with her other hand.

"I swear to fucking God! What are you, five?"

Martin made a childish noise, sticking out his tongue and licking Vanessa's palm. Repulsed, Vanessa quickly withdrew her and from Martin's mouth and furiously wiped her hand on her shorts.

Vanessa gave Martin a look of pure disgust before screeching, "Gross, you're an ass!"

"Come on, just tell me why?" Martin said, pressing for the answers her wanted.

Vanessa suddenly threw her door open and made her way to passenger door behind hers. The door flung open with a force that made it bang against the molding. She was frantically grabbing bags and hiking poles all the while muttering inaudible things to herself.

"What are you doing?" Martin asked.

Vanessa grabbed a canteen and threw it up and Martin. Martin managed to grab it before it hit him in the face. Vanessa grabbed her pack, threw it over her shoulders, and made her way to Martin's side of the S.U.V. "You wanna know why? Well, grab your bags. I'll show you why!"
Chapter 2.

The forest was like something out of a fairy tale. Enormous pine trees towered into the sky, footed by heavy brush of random ivies and weeds. Patches of bamboo forest were scattered amongst bramble with large carpeting of mushrooms and moss. In Pennsylvania, Martin was used to just about every biome of forest, but something about this collection of flora just seemed foreign. The air was very thick for early morning and wisps of fog loomed over the carpet of the forest.

Vanessa was a few paces faster than Martin in through the woods, so she had a considerable lead on him.

"Where are we going exactly?" Martin asked shouting up to her.

Vanessa waved for Martin to catch up with her whilst she scanned the surrounding forest frantically as if she was looking for something to be pursuing them. Martin, picking up the pace, was by her backside in a matter of seconds.

Tapping Vanessa on the shoulder, Martin whispered, "Why are you acting so paranoid?"

Vanessa then cast her gaze over her shoulder toward Martin. The anxious look on her face cemented the severity of their situation to him.

"Ssssh!" Vanessa shushed him and added in a whispering voice, "I don't want us to get caught out here. Diverging from the mission is grounds enough for severe punishment. But, what I'm doing, we could lose our heads over."

Martin was very confused. Sure, he understood that they should be looking for the missing girl instead of galivanting out in the forest. Still, he was having trouble fathoming what could possibly be out here that would cause such serious repercussions. So, Martin chose to keep his mouth shut and he merged with the side of curiosity.

Vanessa was still frantically looking around before stopping dead in her tracks.

"Why did we stop?" Martin asked.

Vanessa shot him a threating look that could scare the devil away. She placed a finger up to his lips and shook her head, signaling for Martin to keep his mouth shut. Vanessa pressed herself up against a girthy tree trunk and motioned for Martin to follow. Confused, Martin decided to sprint over to her location as fast as possible.

"What's going on?" Martin whispered, raising his hands and shrugging.

He got no reply; Vanessa was on the move once again. She sprinted from tree trunk to thick brush with ease. It seemed to Martin like she had done this before.

Martin's better judgement was telling him to not follow her, but looking back the way they came, he knew he would not be able to find his way to the truck. So, not wishing to be lost on his first day, he once again decided to follow her.

For what seemed like hours, Martin kept on Vanessa's heels, only stopping when she would, and not uttering a word the entire time. Sure, he had a million questions, but he knew that he would get no answers until Vanessa saw it fit.

Eventually, Vanessa scurried her way from behind a thick brush of wild raspberry bushes to a rocky mound. Martin made his way to her side.

"Ok, I'm sure you have plenty of questions," Vanessa quietly said, finally ready to speak.

"Well that's the fucking understatement of the decade!" Martin said with a scowl on his face. He then added, "What the hell was the last couple hours all about?"

Looking a bit perturbed, Vanessa grabbed Martin by the shoulders and shook him gently stating, "Look, you wanted to know what was out here, so this is how we have to do this. We do not want to get caught out here!"

Getting angrier at the answers he was receiving, Martin removed Vanessa's hands from his shoulders and pushed her back a bit.

"How in the hell are we going to get caught out here, anyway?! We're in the middle of fucking nowhere!!"

Grabbing Martin's collar, Vanessa dragged him to the edge of the mound they were hiding behind. "Look up there," Vanessa said as she pointed to the lower limbs of a white birch tree.

Martin slowly peeked his head out from behind the rock and looked in the direction Vanessa was pointing. To his surprise, he could see something reflective mounted to a branch. As he studied the shape, he could make out that the surface was glass and what looked like a solar panel was distended from its back.

In disbelief of what he was seeing, Martin spun quickly around to Vanessa, and loudly whispered, "Is that a fucking camera?"

"I told you they don't want people out here," Vanessa replied, she continued on explaining, "There are numerous cameras like that one out here. We are in what is known as Section 13 of the forest. If anyone is caught out here, a specialized team is summoned and you get escorted to God-knows-where."

Not really knowing how to take what he was hearing, Martin removed his pack and slid down the mound behind him to sit on the ground. As he plopped into the dirt, the low-looming fog scattered away from him. He could feel Vanessa's stare on the top of his head, but he didn't care at this point. He had gotten himself into something heavy; something his family didn't deserve to get dragged into.

Opening his pack, he retrieved his water-bladder and took an enormous swig. After having a couple drinks, he passed the canteen up to Vanessa.

"I don't care what's out here anymore. Fuck you for bringing me out here!

Martin let out a defeated sigh to release his remaining anger before he continued, "I know that I am in too deep, so just promise me that you can get me out of this, so I can get back to my family."

Vanessa nodded understandingly, she took her eyes off Martin for a moment to look ahead and then said, "Come on, we are almost there"

Once again, Vanessa took off hopping from behind bushes to tree trunks, with Martin following her as best he could.

The day birthed into mid-afternoon with the humidity of the forest escalated. Ominous clouds began forming in the distance. The quickly darkening woods added a very macabre overtone to the situation and Martin was left only with the thought of seeing his family to keep him going.

Martin was growing impatient and started to wonder just how long they had been wandering around.

Pulling back his sleeve, Martin took a quick look at his watch and something very interesting caught his eye. Not only had two hours passed, but the imbedded compass in the watch-face was going crazy. The needle landed on north for a couple of seconds, staying steady, before sporadically spinning in all directions. Trying desperately to get the compass to work, Martin began smacking his palm on the face of the watch.

"That's not going to do anything!" Vanessa shouted, noticing Martin's attempt.

Looking up from his watch, Martin saw Vanessa some distance ahead of him, standing out in the open. Baffled, Martin ran ahead, dodging about to get to her side.

"We're safe now. Just get over here and let's get this over with," Vanessa spat.

"Yaknow, you could have said something earlier," Martin said irritably.

"Consider us even then," Vanessa replied as she smirked at him.

Confused, Martin asked, "Even? Even for what?"

Giving him a look that says 'are you fucking kidding me' Vanessa replied mockingly with, "Why? Why? Why? Why? Why?"

Angered by this entire situation, Martin exploded, "ENOUGH!"

"Hmph! Well then, if you can't take a joke then maybe you shouldn't be dishing them out, ya big baby."

Vanessa continued more seriously, "Anyway, I'm sorry for not giving you a better heads-up, but you did push my buttons back at the truck."

Vanessa turned and pointed toward a thinning tree line stating, "Beyond those trees is where we are going."

Martin spoke up, exasperated, "Ok, before we go there, I have to ask: If this is where the big bad place is, why aren't there any cameras out here? Why haven't they put up a fence or hell, even a wall? Despite the cameras, anyone could just stumble in here and be none the wiser."

Vanessa paused for a moment to clear her throat, then asked, trying to change the subject, "I saw you look at your watch a minute ago; I assume that the time on it was only a few hours off from when we were at the truck?"

"Yeah," Martin replied with a perplexed expression.

"I also assume that your watch is digital?" Vanessa said, pointing at it.

"Yeah, it is. What are you getting at?" Martin asked, angrily.

Vanessa walked up to Martin and placed her hands on his shoulders. Martin could tell from the expression on her face that she was being genuine, if not desperate. It was her eyes that said it all; they had a depth to them that people only get when they are at rock-bottom. He still didn't trust her, nor even really forgive her completely for this, but he could see that she was apologizing for it, even if it wasn't with her own words.

"Hey, I know that you are angry, but you have to believe me. Whatever this is, it gives off a magnetic field that messes with electronics and compasses."

She reached out and took Martin's hand, turning it to show him his watch and said, "Your watch froze the second we got near here."

Raising her left arm to his, she showed him her watch.

"This one runs off of perpetual motion; no batteries, no electronics."

Gently grabbing her arm, he peered closer at her watch. The time on their watches were three hours apart, putting them much later than Martin had originally thought.

He still had a million questions, but his curiosity was too great to heir on the side of caution. He had to get to the clearing to see what was there.

Letting her arm go, Martin took a few paces past Vanessa toward the tree line.

"Well, we came this far. Let's do this."

Chapter 3.

For the first time in hours, Martin had a straight shot view of the sky. The sunlight blinded him momentarily as the two of them emerged from the shade-riddled cover of the forest. The light was so brilliant that Martin had to rub his eyes to help them adjust. When his vision came to, Martin was puzzled by what he was seeing.

In the middle of the clearing sat a fully constructed case of stairs. Their use wasn't for an observation deck, or any kind of park attraction. It was a set of grey concrete stairs, self-supported by a wall the encased them, meeting flush at the summit with the final step. At first glance they didn't seem like anything out of the ordinary; in fact, Martin originally thought it was an observation deck for visitors the look at the tree tops.

To get a better look at the stairs, Martin took a few steps closer towards them. He could now see what looked like pairs of light fixtures at each step, and they appeared to be working. He was astounded to see them working with no source of electricity to power them.

Upon further inspection he noticed how unusually clean the stairs were. With all the pollen and fluttering debris in the area, the stairs were pristine; no dust, no leaves, nothing. They also looked freshly waxed without so much of a crack in sight from normal weathering.

"How is this possible?" Martin asked aloud.

"No one really knows how it got here, or why it's here," Vanessa replied, then added, "What I can tell you is that you should never go up them."

"Why? It's just a set of sta-"

Vanessa grabbed Martin's hand and pulled him toward her. She raised a finger to his face and began pointing at him like a teacher scolding a student.

"You DO NOT go up those stairs! Got that?" She reprimanded.

Martin nodded his head yes and Vanessa released him, feeling satisfied with his answer.

"Do you think aliens put it here?" Martin asked inquisitively.

They both turned their gaze back towards the staircase.

"That's one theory," Vanessa shrugged, then added, "Others on the force think it's an interdimensional gateway of sorts. Me, I think it's just evil."

Martin turned toward Vanessa, studying her for a moment. He could tell that she was holding something back, something painful.

"What happened? Why do you think they are evil?" Martin asked.

Taking a deep breath, Vanessa finally broke her gaze of the steps and looked at Martin. She had that look about her again; that desperate painful look as tears began pooling beneath her eyes.

Through shuddering lips, Vanessa spoke, "I had a partner a long time ago; my first-time training actually.

Vanessa continued with a nervous laugh, "Man, I was so nervous that I was going to screw something up that I made the poor guy think I had a crush on him. His name was Larry Townsend; a transfer from another part of the country, just like you."

Vanessa swallowed hard, her tone became more serious as she continued her story, "We were out just patrolling, there were no missing persons to find, so it was a slow day. Larry was getting antsy just riding around in the truck, so he asked if we could go trail-blazing. I hadn't done it in some time because we don't get many hikers in the off-season. So, being bored as well, I said sure. After some time, we stumbled across these stairs. We both had never came across something like this before, so we were shocked to see this."

Taking a deep breath, Vanessa was fighting back more tears as she continued, "I wanted to head back, but not Larry. He needed to know more. So, he climbed the stairs with nothing happening to him at first, but when he hit the top step. Everything went wrong. He started speaking in what I assumed to be gibberish, but, the more I heard him speak, the more it sounded like an organized dialect."

"Jesus Christ! This really happened?" Martin interjected.

Firing back at Martin, Vanessa exclaimed, "Why the hell would I make something like this up?! Just let me finish, ok?"

"Of course. I'm sorry. Please continue," Martin yielded.

"Anyway, as Larry was speaking, the sky went from sunny to overcast in a matter of seconds. The clouds swirled in an unnatural pattern above us, kicking up winds so fast I thought trees were certainly going to be uprooted and fall. Lightning began dancing across the sky with thunder rolling right behind it, I can still remember the way it shook my chest with its intensity. Suddenly, Larry began screaming as the thunder continued to strike and a hail poured from the sky. Then...then it happened."

Vanessa's tears broke their pools and streamed down her newly tanned cheeks, collecting with the glowing sweat from the summer's heat before clinging to her soft chin and eventually falling to the ground. She did her best to keep a semblance of composure, but the memory proved too traumatizing to grow distant from.

Martin embraced her in a tight hug, letting Vanessa bury her face into his shoulder. He said nothing because he honestly didn't know what to say.

The silence didn't linger long before Vanessa continued her horrid memory.

Taking a deep whimpering breath, Vanessa continued, "He screamed one last time; it was so loud that I thought he'd rip his vocal chords. I shielded my eyes with my arm so I could try and see what was going on with all the debris flying around. Then... then...his head just exploded. Parts of him flew into the sky showering down to the ground like rain. Then everything stopped; no thunder, no clouds, no nothing."

Martin slowly paced backwards a few steps, his mouth gaping. He swallowed so hard it felt like rocks tumbling down his gullet. He placed a hand over his open mouth before asking, "What did you do next?"

Vanessa progressed toward the stairs, stopping a few feet away before turning to face Martin.

Still crying, she continued, "I ran...I ran towards the stairs, stopping at the base of them. I didn't have the courage to go up them. I could see Larry's body at the top, the tread of his hiking boots hanging over the steps. I took my eyes off his body for a second. Despite my better judgement, I took one step and I peered back up. Then..."

Vanessa went silent, casting her gaze back at the staircase.

Martin, now being filled with morbid curiosity, reluctantly asked, "Then? Then what?"

Keeping her eyes fixated on the top of the stairs, Vanessa once again cleared her throat, before replying, "Something pulled his body into nothingness. I could see his corpse dragging swiftly away and then he was gone. All that was left of him was what hit the forest floor."

Vanessa shook her head as if trying to rid herself of the horrid memory. Turning toward Martin, she walked back to him and placed her head against his shoulder once more.

Martin could feel her warm tears moistening his shirt.

Without any sign of warning, Vanessa continued, "All I could do was run, I ran and ran for hours. Eventually, I was discovered by a team of men wearing black hazmat suits. One of them was Captain Wallace."

"So, the captain knew this whole time?" Martin asked.

Vanessa nodded, "He knew about it. When they got me back to HQ, I was interrogated for a couple hours. The whole thing was recorded on video and audio tape. They cut me a deal to not imprison me, if I swore to keep my mouth shut and to never move out of town. Eventually, they came to me to asking to help locate and set up a perimeter with cameras. That's how I knew where all the cameras were."

Martin pulled Vanessa away from his shoulder to look her right in the eye.

"But why risk it? Why show me this shit? We could have both been safe and just had a regular day; hell, we could have maybe even found that girl and saved her life!"

Vanessa, pushed herself away from Martin and removed her pack, placing it on the ground. She began rooting through it looking for something. Martin paid no attention to this and started making his way back towards the tree line away from the stairs.

"To think I let you drag me into this. Fuck, I'm getting out of here and getting back to my family."

"You know Martin, there was another reason that they didn't lock me up," She stated.

Not paying her any attention, Martin continued to walk back toward the forest.

Vanessa found what she was looking for in her pack, clutching it tightly in her hand.

"We still don't know anything about these stairs, but what we do know is that this isn't the only set out there. Sometimes, they take the form of a regular household staircase, other times they look ancient. My favorite set was one in Texas; it was made of bones and flesh that never rots and, over the years, its reported to be getting larger."

"What the fuck are you talking about? Can we just get out of here? I want to go home," Martin said as he continued walking.

"I'm afraid that I can't let you do that," Vanessa said, menacingly.

Martin froze, stopping dead in his tracks as heard was the cocking of a gun. Instinctively, he raised his hands in the air. Slowly turning around, Martin saw Vanessa pointing a gun at him.

"What are you doing? Put the gun down before one of us gets hurt!" Martin demanded.

The barrel of the .38 revolver darted around in her untrained hands. He wanted to run up to her and bat it away, but something told him that she wasn't fooling around.

"Just get to the fucking stairs! Don't make this harder than it needs to be!" Vanessa shouted.

"Why are you doing this? We just need to get back to the truck. Just put the gun down and we can go. I won't even ask twice about this, I promise," Martin pleaded.

"NO! This is something that I must do. It feeds and if we don't feed it, bad shit starts happening. Every set of stairs has someone that must feed it and that's the job I unknowingly walked in to."

"You don't need to do this. We could find another," Martin begged.

Vanessa walked to Martin, getting close enough to push the barrel into the flesh of his forehead.

"If it's not you, then it will be someone in your family. Why did you think we had the job opening and hired someone from so far away? We needed someone that wasn't local; someone that wouldn't raise too much suspicion."

"LEAVE MY FAMILY ALONE!" Martin yelled.

"THEN GET UP THE FUCKING STAIRS!" Vanessa spat.

The climb was heartbreaking, he knew he would never see his family again, but Martin felt some solace in believing that he may have spared them from something torturous.

He approached the second to final step and stopped for a moment to look back at Vanessa. He could see that she was overcome with grief. He could tell that she didn't want to do this, but he figured she continued on to protect people close to her, like he was. He wondered how many people before him stood here, looking at a seemingly peaceful forest, never knowing what was coming.

"Before I take this last step, can you do me a favor?" Martin asked with despair ripping apart his voice.

Fighting through her tears to reply, Vanessa said, "Yes, name it."

"Please don't let this happen to my family. Tell them anything you must. Just get them to leave this place...promise me?"

"Of course," Vanessa choked out.

As Martin took the final step, the winds picked up, ominous clouds swirled, thunder bellowed deep within his chest and hail poured from the sky. He could feel something sweeping into his mind, something he didn't understand, but it was beautiful and calming.

Suddenly, everything around him stood still; the hail froze in place and he could see debris suspended in animation. Behind him stood Vanessa, shielding her face from the maelstrom of devastation surrounding them. She too was still, tears frozen on her face.

"Thank you," Martin whispered.

Silent Cove

Chapter 1.

"C'mon man, I really want to ask Sadie out!" Justin exclaimed.

Justin Decker and his best friend Kurt Saddler sat in the high school cafeteria waiting for their table number to be called to get in line for lunch. Justin and Kurt were the classic metal-head type high schoolers; long hair, black jeans, band t-shirts for every day of the week and a lanky physique. They weren't the normal catch for high school girls, but Sadie Holmes had been the apple of Justin's eye since freshman year.

Sadie moved into town during the latter half of freshman year and from day one, she was ushered into the cool kid groups, rendering her almost unapproachable for Justin. Three years Justin waited, watching from the side-lines as Sadie would go from relationship to relationship with most of the jocks, each break-up seeming messier than the last. Because of this, Justin had a hunch that she wasn't the type of person to fit in this click that she was thrown into. He didn't really have solid proof, but it was all that he had to keep the fairy tale alive in his head that he had a chance.

"Then walk up there and ask her!" Kurt proclaimed while pointing a finger towards Sadie.

Justin reached for his hand, slamming it down on the table producing a loud thud. This made several students glance in their direction and despite Justin's attempt to shroud Kurt's gesture, Kurt's finger was still clearing pointing at Sadie...and she noticed.

Her face became flush and Sadie shot a grin in Justin's direction.

Justin couldn't believe what he was seeing. Three years! three long years, and she finally looked at him and smiled.

"Dude, did you see that?" Justin asked as he threw his hand on Kurt's shoulders shaking him profusely.

"Yeah, yeah I saw it. She laughed at you."

"Yeah, she laughed at...Hey! Fuck you, man" Justin said, letting go of Kurt and slugging him on the arm.

She smiled at me, man. I can't believe she smiled at me.

"Well, then you should ask her out then if you're so confident that she magically likes you because you made an ass of yourself!" Kurt replied bluntly.

"Oh, yeah your right...Fuck! I'm being stupid."

Kurt slugged him back, hard; maybe a little too hard to just be messing around, but Kurt had been hearing this beta shit talk for so long and the final nail in the coffin had been slammed in a year or so ago.

"I'm fucking joking, dude! She smiled at you. Don't be lame! Having a girl smile at you like that is almost like getting to first base. You're in man, now all you have to do is not be a pussy about it and say something," Kurt said, edging Justin on.

"TABLE 9!" one of the cafeteria attendants yelled.

"Finally, our table! I'm freaking starving!" Justin said, excitedly.

"Me too, especially after you made us look like asshats. You know, we could probably eat sooner if you got into something with Sadie. We could finally sit at a table near the front and be called first instead of last."

"Sure, I'll date her so you can eat sooner," Justin joked, sarcastically.

As they got into the line for food, Justin caught sight of Sadie from across the cafeteria. She was just exiting to register line and making her way back around to her seat. This made Justin think about how stupid the set-up of the great Florida East Beach High School cafeteria was. You would first wait for the table to get called, then you would file in line to the farthest wall on the left side of the room. Then you go through the food line, follow that to the register line on the far-right side of the room and finally, you then had to circle back to wherever you were seated. So, if you sat at table 1 and were sitting in one of the chairs next to the food line, you had to uncomfortably shimmy your way past everyone.

Justin couldn't help but notice that all the chairs not on the line-side of table one were taken, meaning that there was a possibility that Sadie would have to walk past him to get to her seat. This made Justin feel more nervous than he ever had before in his life.

"I think I'm just going to go sit down. I'm not really that hungry." Justin whispered into Kurt's ear.

Puzzled, Kurt looked around the room and quickly put all the pieces together. He saw Sadie and the full row of chairs at the table.

"Stop, being a puss. Just stay in line and, hey, who knows? You may become a man in the next couple of seconds and be able to ask her out."

Justin didn't respond, instead he was still trying to find a way to get back to his seat. He thought about just bursting his way past everyone in line and circling back to his seat, but that would cause another scene; and one outburst was enough for one day. Despite his wishes, Justin was trapped, doomed to maybe say "hi" to Sadie and force down a mediocre version of a chicken cordon blue sandwich.

Before Justin knew it, Sadie was making her way back to her seat, pushing through the line excusing herself with every person she passed.

"What the fuck am I going to say? Hi, Sadie. I'm the asshole that stalked you for three years," Justin thought to himself.

Sadie was getting closer and Justin's mind just kept racing with every possible bad outcome that could occur.

Soon enough, she was one person away. In seconds she excused herself past the student beside him. He was next! His excitement was reaching a fever pitch and Justin could feel sweat forming in his eyebrows.

Sadie reached Justin and instead of excusing herself, she stopped, turning to talk to him.

"Hey" Sadie greeted.

In a super shaky voice Justin replied, "Hey"

Immediately, Kurt shoved an elbow into Justin's side, trying to get him to say something of any merit. The shove got something out for sure, but it wasn't what Kurt was hoping for.

Without thought, Justin blurted out, "I love you."

Sadie's face shown signs of blushing and to both Kurt and Justin's surprise, she didn't go running for a supervisor. Instead, she laughed, and that beautiful smile Justin saw earlier reappeared.

"How about we take it a little bit slower, ok?"

All Justin could do was just shake his head yes.

"Look, your friend over here filled me in on how you feel about me and honestly, I'm flattered."

"You...you are?" Justin stammered in amazement.

"Yup! In fact, Kurt and I had been planning something for a little while now ever since he told me. So, I was hoping that you would ask me out, but Kurt warned me that probably wasn't going to happen."

Justin shot a glance at Kurt, but he kept looking forward during the whole chat. Justin tapped Kurt on the shoulder trying to get his attention.

"Can't wait to eat me some poopy chicken sandwiches," was all Justin got out of him.

Sadie reached over and took hold of Justin's tapping hand and removed it from Kurt's shoulder.

Sadie was still holding Justin's hand when she spoke once more, "We were thinking about going down to Silent Cove Friday night for a swim and bon-fire. I would love it if you would come with me."

Justin wasn't sure if it was the overwhelming joy he was experiencing or the idea that the stress of asking her out had been lifted, but he suddenly had some confidence.

"Yes! Of course, I would love to go with you!"

"Great! I already talked the details over with Kurt. We will see you boys there around dusk, ok?"

"Yeah, that's perfect! I can't wait!" Justin exclaimed.

"Me either" Sadie said as she leaned forward, giving Jason a light peck on the cheek.

It was like fireworks going off in Justin's mind. The simple kiss lasted for hours and the smell of rose coming from Sadie's curly long black hair was heavenly. Her tan skin was very warm to the touch and her lips felt soft as feathers.

As she pulled away, Justin was lost in her emerald eyes. A single curlycue of hair dangled down between them, adding a beautiful extra detail to the masterpiece of female wonder that stood before him. Justin couldn't help himself, he reached up, took hold of the curly stray bunch of hair and lightly tucked it behind her left ear. They barely knew each other, but in that moment, it felt like the cafeteria was only there for them and no one else.

"Thank you. See you Friday."

With that Sadie, shimmied past Justin and Kurt to take her seat at the front of the table. Justin watched her make her way to her seat before pulling his attention back and noticed Kurt smirking at him.

"I got tired of you just talking about her, so I made the move you should have made, and I asked her out for you. Besides, I like Crystal her friend, so I figured I could kill two birds with one stone. I got us both dates, dude!" Kurt shouted at Justin.

"You could have told me, man."

"Nah, this was her idea. She knew we always sit at the last table and she made it work out that she would have to pass us. I wasn't going to ruin this perfect plan, especially one that was about three years coming. So, now all you have to do is just relax and wait for Friday," Kurt said.

"Yeah, Friday..." Justin trailed off.

It was Monday.

**Chapter 2.**

The next couple days of school came and went without much incident, until Wednesday. Sadie didn't come to school because she was ill. Of course, Justin was worried that it would postpone their plans, but his worries were put to rest when one of Sadie's friends, August, handed him a note from Sadie.

Justin,

Hey, don't worry about me. I just have a little head cold. I stayed home from school, so I could get better as fast as I can for our date. I hope you're still as excited as I am! I'm aiming to be back to school Thursday, but we will see. If not, I will write you another letter to check in with you. Well, I don't really have too much more to say being stuck in bed and all. Try not to worry about me and I will hopefully see you tomorrow.

Xoxo,

Sadie

The fact that she thought of him enough to write him a letter dashed all the doubts that had crept about in his mind. He was still awestruck at the notion that Sadie liked him, even enough to be the one to ask him out. It all seemed so surreal and too good to be true, but it was true and that was what made it scary.

The weight of the idea of a relationship with her was bliss, but it wasn't going to come without consequence. Justin had already been having some trouble with Sadie's jock exes and the notion was slowly being passed around the football team. The sheer idea that some metal-head dweeb was dating one of the hottest girls in school was absurd. Still, Justin stuck with the notion that it was worth it and he was going to go through with it for her.

"Hey, Freak!!!" screamed a deep masculine voice.

Justin knew that voice. It was Zach Boyd, one of Sadie's exes from the football team. He wasn't one of the bigger guys; he was short, stocky and non-threatening in appearance. The scary thing about Zach was that everyone knew that he knew how to fight. It's not that he trained in a martial art or anything like that, just that he was good at handling himself in a fight.

The insults continued to leave Zach's mouth and travel their way down the hall toward Justin at his locker. There was a time, when such slurs penetrated him deeply, but now, Justin had a shield; he had Sadie.

On the inside of his locker door, Justin had a school picture of Sadie. It was the standard school picture with a blue paint splash across a black background. To Justin, however, there wasn't anything standard about this picture. Everything was perfect, from the lighting to the gentle hint of a shadow on the wall that peeked from behind Sadie's perfectly silken hair. Her eyes glistened like diamonds, complimenting the genuine innocence behind her perfect smile. She was truly a sight to behold, but Justin also knew that she was much more than a pretty face; something that her exes never could see.

"Hey! I'm fucking talking to you!" Zach screamed

Justin's locker door abruptly slammed shut, to reveal his aggressor standing before him. They both stood at the same height, but Zach was built like a brick shit house, making Justin feel about two inches tall.

"Tell me something...what makes you so damn special?" Zach demanded.

Justin really didn't know what to say. Honestly, he himself didn't know what made him special to her. He took many guesses, none of which had to do with his looks or intelligence. So, since Justin didn't really have an answer, he figured that he should play dumb.

"What are you talking about?" Justin replied.

Zach expected Justin to play the stupid card and it made him even more furious. His fists clenched so hard that his knuckles turned white.

Don't play dumb! Answer me!" Zach shouted.

Not wanting to get into a fight, Justin didn't answer Zach. Instead, he turned his back to him and tried to escape.

In the blink of an eye, Zach spun Justin around and sunk his right fist into Justin's skinny stomach. Before Justin's knees hit the ground, Zach grabbed him by the collar, and hoisted him up against his locker.

"Stay on your feet! Zach spat, then said, "Now, I asked you a question, asshole! What the fuck makes you so damn special? Why would she choose you?"

Not wanting to be hit again, Justin just blurted out the first thing that came to his mind, "What's her favorite movie?"

Confused, Zach's face flushed red with anger and he sunk another punch into Justin's belly.

"What the fuck are you talking about?" Zach asked

"What's her favorite movie? Do you even know? I could ask you an even simpler question; what is her favorite color? You don't know, do you? I've asked myself the same question you asked me for some time now. Why am I so fucking special? I honestly don't know, but if I was to take a wild guess, it's because I pay attention to her and remember everything about her. She isn't just a piece of meat to me!" Justin yelled through the pain.

Zach loosened his grip on Justin. His gaze was cast towards the ground and his tone was much less demanding, "Why? Why you?"

Zach's fists fell like boulders to his side, his shoulders slumped, and his head drooped in a depressing fashion. Justin wanted to comfort him in some way, possibly mending the gap between the two of them and calling a truce. But, he felt like Zach probably deserved this.

Obviously, something happened between Sadie and him and this was the comeuppance that he deserved.

Justin could see tears beginning to form on Zach's face and the only thought that came to mind was, "Cry then, you fucking pussy!"

"I'm sorry, I...I..."

Zach didn't finish. He turned his back on Justin and walked away. Justin watched as Zach faded into the crowded hallway of kids that watched their fight. The kids all looked shocked, not believing the sight of a crying Zach walking away from a fight. Ignoring the stares of the other students, Justin opened his locker door once more and took another glance at Sadie's picture.

"What did he do to you? What did any of these guys do to you?" Justin thought.

Just then, He could feel someone walk up behind him.

"Zach, I really don't have time to fuck around with you anymore!" Justin called out before turning around.

A large hand fell onto Justin's right shoulder, "Son, I'm afraid you are going to have to come to my office."

Justin turned to see principal Graves standing before him. Graves was a very intimidating figure. His frame was wider than a barn and he stood at an easy six feet, and then some. He always wore a finely-pressed black suit with a red tie; a contrast that stood out like freshly drawn blood. His hair was a dark brown speckled with salty white strands along the sides of his head down into his neatly-trimmed side-burns.

Justin had run-ins with Mr. Graves before and it never ended well for him. The metal-head kid never makes it out of these situations unscathed. The jocks, on the other hand, they were Graves' bread and butter. Most of the kids in school always made jokes about them being in weird sexual relations, although no one ever had any proof.

"Am I in trouble, Mr. Graves?"

Graves shook his head no.

"Then, what is it? I have to get to class," Justin said.

"Don't worry about that. I need to speak with you privately in my office. I can't risk anyone hearing what we are going to discuss," Graves said.

Justin was confused beyond comprehension. Everything in his head was telling him to just run towards his next class because his mind was running wild with speculation.

"Just come with me Justin; this won't take long. I will give you a pass to excuse you for being late to your next class."

Not knowing what else to say, Justin agreed and followed Graves towards his office.

Justin had visited this office numerous times before, but this time, something seemed more ominous about the atmosphere.

Graves was one of those individuals that seemed to let his power go to his head and his design choices in his office were a sure sign of that. The office was adorned with presidential-looking ornaments: an enormous American flag displayed proudly on the wall behind his oversized cherry wood desk; and a reprint of the Declaration of Independence mounted in an ornate gold framing with an inscription on the bottom reading 'The Rules.'

Graves took hold of the head of his brown leather chair and swiveled it around to face him. He plopped into the chair in a lazy manner, much unlike his normal persona. Graves reached up to his tie and loosened it, he then placed his elbows on his desk and began rubbing his forehead with his right hand.

All this seemed so weird. Graves never acted like this around Justin before. He was always very formal and firm, so much so that all the kids in school assumed that he slept in suits and never took shits because it would waste valuable time being an asshole.

Seeing Graves like this, like a human, was unsettling to Justin. It gave off that serial killer vibe, like in the movies:

They lure you in with their charm or position of power and then they start acting all cool and collected, monologuing about weird music theory or family problem. Next thing you know, you're being chased down a hall by a half-naked mad man wielding a chainsaw.

"Hey, I know you said I am not in any trouble, but what is going on?" Justin asked

Graves stopped rubbing his forehead, smearing his hand down his stern face and letting I rest over his mouth. Graves's eyes widened as he cast his gaze down towards his desk. Justin could tell that something was really bothering him and, from his expression, he appeared to be having a hard time gathering his thoughts on how to explain himself.

Some time had passed without Graves replying to Justin.

"Hello! Look if you're not going to talk to me, then I am going back to class."

A few more moments went by without Graves saying anything. Justin decided to call his bluff. He pushed his chair back from Graves' desk, stood up and started making his way towards the door.

Just as he was about to place his hand on the door knob, Graves finally said something.

"Don't go to Silent Cove."

Perplexed, Justin removed his hand from the door knob and slowly turned around.

"What did you say?" Justin asked.

Graves let out a sigh and finally cast his gaze in Justin's direction.

"Don't go to Silent Cove. I know that you are meeting Sadie there Friday night."

"How do you--?"

Graves raised his hand motioning for Justin to be silent.

"Look, I know this all seems strange and I am probably the last person you would ever trust, but do not got there...especially with her. I can't really explain why, but just don't do it."

He seemed sincere; his eyes were locked on Justin's. They were wide and clear, almost pleading for belief. His face sagged with a frowning, partially-opened mouth. His hands were folded, and his shoulders were slouched. This man that Justin came to fear over his time at school now appeared weak and pathetic. It was off-putting, disturbing even; never in a million years did Justin ever think he would be put in a situation like this.

Still, even though Graves was literally begging for him to believe, Justin had his doubts. Besides, Mr. Graves wasn't his father. Hell, he wasn't anyone that Justin had to listen to outside of school.

"You don't have to worry about me," Justin said, hoping that would put an end to all of this.

Slowly, Justin turned back around and placed his hand on the office door once more. He turned the knob slowly hoping that, for some reason, being quieter with his exit would make things go over easier. As the second the bolt lock to the door clicked open, Mr. Graves shot up from his desk.

"JUSTIN!!!" he screamed.

Justin spun around pressing his back against the door. He saw Graves, standing at his desk with an outreaching hand. His gaze was fixated on Justin and, in a trance like state, Graves started climbing over his desk, advancing towards Justin.

"Get back! Don't you touch me, motherfucker!!" Justin screamed.

Graves reached the edge of his desk and fell to his knees, taking his eyes off Justin to reorient himself. Justin knew this was his chance. Not taking his eyes off Graves, he rummaged over the door, searching for the knob with his left hand. He scrambled for a few moments, watching in terror as he watched Graves dragging himself across the floor and reaching out to him.

"DON'T GO!!"

Justin successfully twisted the knob and released the door from its confines. He fell backwards out of Graves' office landing on his back while shrieking horrendously.

"HELP ME!!! SOMEBODY HELP ME!!!"

One of the office receptionists rushed over to Justin and helped him to his feet. There in the hearth of the doorway, they watched as Mr. Graves curled into a fetal position and began sobbing into his tucked knees.

**Chapter 3.**

That was a day that no one would forget at Florida East Beach High School. A hysterical Mr. Graves being escorted out of the school by several police officers. He went peacefully with them until they made it to one of the squad cars. There, he began screaming and fighting them until he was forcefully restrained. Graves still put up a good struggle, but there were far too many cops and he was easily thrown into the back of a squad car.

One cop car remained at the school after they hauled Graves away. Officers Carrigan and Smith were the ones in charge of the investigation portion of the case.

Carrigan was an extremely tall and lanky Caucasian man with reddish hair that coupled into his unkempt beard. He was playing the 'bad cop' of the duo. He kept a stern look about him always while Smith was portraying a more understanding and caring nature.

Justin watched them as they questioned some of the office staff about Mr. Graves' past workings in the school. He saw Carrigan would press harder for an answer that he was looking for only to have Smith then comfort the witness after they broke into tears from the interrogation.

Both officers worked their way through staff and other students, oddly enough, leaving Justin to be questioned last.

One of the office workers, Ms. Vance, a genuinely nice older woman was tasked by Carrigan to inform Justin that he was to wait in Mr. Graves' office for his questioning. They both were perplexed by such an odd request, so she escorted him to the room and accompanied Justin while he awaited.

"What did they ask you." Justin questioned.

Ms. Vance shifted in her chair, crossing her legs from one side to the other. She was looking around the room while fiddling with the whisps of hair that loosened from her ponytail.

"Well, at first they asked me if Mr. Graves had ever shown any signs of being overworked or stressed out. Of course, I told them no, but..."

Justin shifted to the edge of his seat and asked, "But what?"

Ms. Vance was once again fiddling with her hair and directing her sight to anywhere but Justin.

"What did they ask?" Justin questioned again.

Ms. Vance anxiously started rubbing her hands together before she finally replied to Justin,

"They started asking me weird questions. They were blunt about them too, like I was supposed to know what they were talking about. They kept asking 'did he tell the boy about her?' As well as, 'how much did he say?'

Justin flopped back in his seat, puzzled as he rubbed his forehead with his hands.

Ms. Vance continued, "Justin, I think you are going to be in some really bad trouble here. They questioned everyone out in the open. You're the only one they requested to be kept in a room.

Vance shifted out of her chair and walked over to Justin, placing a hand on his shoulder.

"I really think that you should get out of here. I could try and cover for you. I could tell them that you were feeling ill and I sent you home."

Justin removed his hand from his head and placed one on Ms. Vance's hand. This gesture made Justin realize the severity of his current situation. Sadly, that also made him aware that there wasn't a point in running because they would find him eventually.

"No, if they really want me that badly, they will find a way to get to me whether or not I am here or at home. I would honestly like to keep it here and not get my folks involved. Besides, I think they want it that way too. After something like this, my parents would have been notified and would be here with me by now."

Just then, the door to Mr. Graves' office flew open, revealing, Carrigan and Smith in its hearth.

"Ms. Vance, would you kindly go back out into the reception and help the students?" Smith said, gesturing with his hands for Ms. Vance to exit.

Ms. Vance nodded and swiftly made her way out of the office, shooting Justin a final glance as she reached the frame of the doorway.

As soon as Ms. Vance exited the room, Officer Carrigan slammed the door shut. Carrigan then made his way toward Mr. Graves' chair and Smith remained by the door.

Justin kept his eyes on Carrigan as he was inspecting Mr. Graves' desk, shuffling papers and opening every desk drawer. Justin could smell the scent of tobacco and could only assume that Smith was smoking behind him.

Suddenly, Carrigan slammed his fist on Mr. Graves' desk before demanding, "WHAT DID HE SAY TO YOU?!"

Justin was taken aback by the sudden outburst, causing him to shuffle backwards a few paces. Of course, Justin wasn't sure what to say, because everything that Mr. Graves said was very cryptic; not a lick of it made any sense to him. He understood that there was something about his date with Sadie that was of concern, but the idea of her being dangerous seemed preposterous and, besides, he wasn't going to let some pigs and a shitty principle get in the way of his date.

Gathering his confidence, Justin took a few steps closer to Carrigan.

Clenching his fists, he responded with defiance, "I have no idea what you're talking about!"

Carrigan smirked, while momentarily glancing over at Smith. Behind him, Justin could hear footsteps lurching closer; it was most certainly Smith.

"SHIT! THEIR GOING TO FUCKING KILL ME!" Justin thought to himself.

Sure enough, he felt a hand land on his left shoulder, fingers gripping tightly into his collar bone. Justin wanted to wince in pain, but he figured that showing no weakness was a better stance for him to take at this moment.

Smith took a drag from his cigarette, blowing toward the back of Justin's head.

"Kid, make this easier on yourself and just tell us what was said. Trust me, you don't want to piss off my partner over here." Smith said, pointing at Carrigan with his cigarette.

Justin was still staring at Carrigan. The thoughts of what he could do to him flooded his mind. Justin knew that if they were to physically interrogate him, there would be no hope of him lasting very long.

At that moment, he noticed Carrigan reach into his pocket, pulling out some bandages. Carrigan was wrapping his fists with the rags as he bullyingly said, "Is this all really worth a date with a pretty girl?"

"How?" Justin thought to himself.

Smith's hand dug even deeper into his shoulder causing Justin to finally screech out in pain,

"That fucking hurt, man. Fuck off!"

Justin threw his elbow at Smith, causing him to lose his grip. Once he was free, Justin swiftly moved into a far corner of the room to keep them both in his sight. In the time it took him to move, Carrigan had finished wrapping his mitts and was now punching his right fist into his left hand. Smith was remaining cool as a cucumber, simply leaning against a bookshelf smoking his cig.

Justin finally caved. He knew he was going to have to give them something to get out of this mess.

Throwing up his hands, he finally confessed, "OK, ok! Look, Mr. Graves asked to see me in his office. I didn't know why because, for once, I hadn't done anything wrong. After a few minutes of talking, he asked me not to go to Silent Cove with Sadie. After that, he went crazy and tried to attack me."

Smith dropped his cigarette to the floor and snuffed it out with his shoe before speaking, "That's all he said? Are you certain?"

Justin instantly replied, "Yes! He told me not to go and then started getting really weird. He acted like something had control over him. He stumbled over his desk instead of simply walking around it. Freaking nuts, man."

Carrigan and Smith looked at each other. Smith nodded his head, signaling for Carrigan to come over to him, Carrigan nodded in reply. The two men spoke quietly by the window behind Mr. Graves' desk. Justin noticed that the tone in the room completely shifted after he told them what had happened.

"Why is that all they care about? They didn't even write anything down for a report." Justin thought.

Suddenly, there was a knock at the office door. All three of them looked at each other, wondering who it could possibly be.

Miraculously for Justin, it was Ms. Vance once again.

"Justin's parents are here to pick him up. Are you officers finished questioning him?"

This was music to his ears! Justin never in a million years would have thought that his parents would be something to make him jump for joy. Without thinking, Justin replied, "Yeah! We're done!"

Carrigan and Smith shot Justin a angered glance, but they knew they were bested. Carrigan began unwrapping his fists and Smith cracked a window in a vain attempt to air the office of his smoke. After doing that, Smith walked over to Justin, placing his hand on the same shoulder as before and dug into it again.

"Don't speak a word of what happened here! Everything went as it naturally should have and that is all you will ever tell people."

Smith kept squeezing his grip tighter, staring into Justin's pain-filled eyes before speaking once more,

"You're lucky that you only dealt with me, kid. My buddy over here, he would have made you bleed, and he will if you say anything. And, trust us...we'll know if you squeal."

With that, Smith shoved Justin against the wall, chuckling as he made his way toward the office door. Carrigan followed, glaring menacingly as he passed. Before exiting the room, Smith looked back at Justin and spoke one last time.

"Listen to Mr. Graves," Smith said, as he raised an arm and lurched toward him just as Graves had. "DON'T GO!"

Carrigan and Smith both laughed aloud as they left the office, leaving Justin in a state of shock.

"I didn't tell them that he did that! How the fuck did they know?" Justin thought.

**Chapter 4.**

Friday had finally come, and it was the first day that Sadie came back to school as well from being ill. The two of them sat at the 'cool kids' table along with Kurt and his date for the night, Jess. They laid out the plans for the evening consisting of some dinner, a moonlight swim at the cove and, finally, a bon-fire. The couples agreed to split off once they arrived at the cove to give each other some privacy and meeting back up when they wanted to make the fire. Sure, this was going against everything that Justin was telling himself was a bad idea, but one look at Sadie made him change his entire mind about the odd happenings a few days ago.

That day at school lasted forever, but, sure enough, it came and went. Per their plans, Kurt and Justin met with Sadie and her friend Jess at the local burger joint. The tension for Justin was minor at this point because he was in public surrounded by a bunch of others. Despite trying to shrug off his worries earlier in the week, the trip to Silent Cove was starting to play out wild nightmares with his imagination.

"What's going to happen when we get there? What if all those warnings were real?" Justin pondered to himself.

Kurt was driving them to the spot in his old beaten-up Nissan Stanza. It was powder blue and peppered with rust spots. Still, it was a car, and being a high-school student with a car meant that it was worth its weight in gold.

It was nearing five-o-clock as Kurt and Justin closed in on the off-street parking that was meant for the cove. There weren't any actual parking spots for the cove. It was one of those situations where the locals made a makeshift 'parking' lot, but, in actuality, it was a large section of shoulder for the road with the trees and brush mowed back.

As Justin slowed into a spot, both the boys realized that the only other car there was what they assumed to be Sadie's car. For such a warm night, they thought for sure that they wouldn't be alone at the cove until much later that evening.

Justin pressed his face against his window as if it was going to help him see better.

Smearing his nose about the glass he asked, "Do you see them anywhere?"

Kurt decided to take a better approach to Justin's idiotic detective skills. Kurt opened the door of the sedan and walked over toward the other car. Justin stayed in his seat. He was still worried about getting out of the car, his mind plagued with fear from the events of the past days. Justin watched as Kurt reached the white Jeep Wrangler and peered into the window. Only a few seconds passed, and Kurt turned to make his way back to the car.

"That's Sadie's car alright," Kurt said, as he opened the driver side door and stood staring at Justin.

Doubting him, Justin replied, "And how the hell do you know that?"

Kurt seemed a tad pissed that Justin didn't trust him and he shot back, "Because they taped a fucking note to the window!"

"Oh. Sorry, man," Justin replied.

Kurt opened the back door and grabbed his back-pack that had stuff for his date. Justin brought a pack along too, but his was way lighter than Kurt's.

He didn't know what to pack. Part of him wanted to put a gun in there and nothing else, but, against his better judgment, he packed a bottle a whiskey that he swiped from his dad's liquor cabinet, a few condoms (because...well...you never know), a flashlight and some chips to snack on. Not a true romantic in any sense of the term, but Justin figured that, considering what has happened in the past couple days, showing up for the date was proof enough that he liked her.

Strapping on the back-pack, Kurt leaned into the ajar door to look at Justin.

"So, are you coming or what?" Kurt questioned.

Justin was staring out the window, peering at the rough suggestion of a trailhead that disappeared into a maelstrom of mangrove and pine trees. He pondered that this might be the last time that he would ever see this side of the trail. Would he die tonight? Was all this just a hoax? Of course, he didn't have an answer to any of that.

"Justin," Kurt called.

Justin didn't hear Kurt; his mind was still traveling into the realm of absurdity. He couldn't help but relive that day with Mr. Graves in his office. That face Mr. Graves had, it was burned into his mind.

"What if his warning has real? What if I am really getting into some danger here?"

"JUSTIN!!!" Kurt screamed.

The scream startled Justin so much that he jumped in his seat, hitting his head on the ceiling of the small car.

"Fuck!! What the hell, man?" Justin snapped back.

Kurt was doubled-over, clutching his stomach with both his arms as he laughed hysterically. Justin's face was flushed with anger as he rubbed his head, trying to null the pain away. He couldn't be too mad at Kurt because, in all honesty, he would be doing the same if the tables were turned and, because Kurt was his ride home.

"C'mon, man. Grab your shit and let's go; the girls are waiting for us," Kurt said.

Reluctantly, Justin grabbed his bag and walked to the trailhead with Kurt.

The smell of pine and coastal flowers permeated the air along with the faint scent of salt water as they made their way along the path. The sun was just starting to meet with the horizon as it radiated a pallet of purples, oranges and yellows. The distant trees silhouetted against the canvas of the sky. A slight chill approached on the tails of a gentle breeze. It was picturesque and non-threatening to say the least, but that made it all the more eerie to Justin.

"Hey man, I don't know about this. Something just feels wrong. Maybe we should go back," Justin said.

Kurt slid his pack off onto a nearby boulder on the trail, opened it and took a swig of water from a canteen he had stored away. He left out a satisfied sigh and wiped off some water that spilled onto his chin.

"Look, I know that you're freaked out man, but nothing is going to happen," Kurt said, as he passed his canteen over to Justin.

"I want to believe that, but there is something in the back of my mind telling otherwise," Justin said, as he pressed his lips against the bottle, taking a few large gulps.

As he handed the canteen back to Kurt, they could hear something coming up the trail in front of them. The steps were rapid in succession with breaking twigs and kicked stones echoing up the path.

In a panicked voice, Justin asked, "What the hell is that?"

Annoyed, Justin replied, "How the hell should I know! It's probably someone heading back to the parking lot."

"Are you fucking stupid or something? The only cars there was yours and Sadie's!"

Kurt walked over to Justin and slugged him in the shoulder, "You are becoming such a pain in the ass! If that shit in Mr. Graves' office didn't happen to you, you would be running down this trail with your dick making all your decisions. Knock it off and grow the fuck up!"

Justin was rubbing his shoulder as another loud crack came from down the path. It sounded much closer this time and some voices could now be heard.

"Its just the girls, you pussy. They were probably tired of waiting for us to get down to the beach. Can we just go and try and have a good time?" Kurt pleaded.

Sure enough, from around a bend in the trail, Sadie and Jess appeared. Both of them looked a tad upset and tired from walking up the trail again.

"Guys! What's the hold up?" Jess asked.

Kurt shoved his canteen back in his bag and flung it over his shoulder. "Well, if it wasn't for the big baby over here-"Kurt tried to say before Justin slugged him one in the ribs.

"Ouch, hey what fuck!" Kurt screamed.

Sadie was growing impatient with this childish stuff, so she spoke up, "Seriously, guys! Move it or lose it!"

Both Justin and Kurt nodded, before Justin spoke up, "Sorry, let us lead the way for you."

Sadie folded her arms and looked to Jess for some sort of judgment. Jess nodded her head while rolling her eyes. Both girls stepped to the side of the trail, gesturing for the boys to lead.

Justin took the initiative and made his way past the girls, only stopping for a brief second to look at Sadie.

"I'm sorry. I'm just really nervous," Justin confessed.

It was true, he was nervous, but not for the reason that Sadie took it for. Still, it seemed to do the trick because a smirk grew on Sadie's face and she began to faintly blush. She didn't say anything and instead placed a hand on his shoulder before leaning in and giving him a hug. After the hug, Justin and Sadie led the pack together, hand in hand.

Chapter 5.

Since the dates was running a tad later than planned, both couples stayed together to swim and watch the sun set.

Silent Cove was gorgeous at sunset. The curvature of the beach framed the darkening vista beyond perfectly. Palm trees towered in a black hue against the final embers of amber light that danced across the horizon. The palms reached out like fingers guiding the sun to rest. The moon peeked out from behind a nearby cliff, casting a glow that made the sand beneath them appear white, as fireflies began to flutter within the darkness.

"Well, I know I don't want to hang around you losers anymore tonight," Kurt joked.

Sadie spun around to face Justin, placing her hand on her hips and flapping her hair from one side of her head to the other. Justin stepped forward and was about to say something smart in reply, but Sadie placed a finger over his lips, signaling to Justin that she had this.

"Yeah, it's a good thing too. I'm starting to smell something funky. Be careful Jess, I don't think this one washes his junk," Sadie joked back.

They all laughed out loud, Jess was patting Kurt on the back letting him know that his luck wasn't going to change, while Sadie threw herself at Justin, tangling their arms together.

"Good one," Kurt replied as he picked up his bag before continuing, "Its seven-o-clock now, so let's meet up here at say...ten."

Everyone agreed that ten was a good time and they went off their separate ways. Jess and Kurt went toward the side of the cove that had tide pools and a sand shelf because Jess said she wanted to hunt down ghost crabs and catch another swim. Justin and Sadie instead chose to just walk the beach and bask in its nocturnal beauty.

"So, I heard that some crazy shit happened to you at school. Mr. Graves tried to attack you?" Sadie asked.

Justin didn't know what to say, when he was with everyone else he was much more confident because he didn't think that anything could happen. Now, he was alone with the one person he was told to stay away from. Still, he really cared about Sadie and he wanted to be honest with her.

"Yeah, he asked me to come into his office and then he asked me about this date we are on now. He told me to stay away from you and the cove."

Sadie looked surprised and puzzled at the same time, "Why would he say something like that?" she asked.

Justin shrugged his shoulders, trying to play it as cool. Suddenly, Sadie had this look to her like a light went off in her head.

"Wait, so you were told to stay away from me and you still came here anyway?" Sadie asked with a grin.

Before Justin could say anything, Sadie grabbed Justin's shirt and pulled him in and gave him what was his first kiss of his high-school life. Justin didn't pull away in shock, he had planned for this moment and he held her close, continuing to kiss her. His heart was fluttering, and his mind was racing with what to do next. After kissing for another moment or two, Sadie pulled herself away from Justin.

"Do you want me?" Sadie asked

Justin could only nod his head like an imbecile in response.

Sadie was still wearing her bathing suit, so she reached behind her and started to undo the tie to her floral print top. Justin was getting obviously excited and Sadie took notice, shooting a glance downward and having a shocked looked on her face.

Despite all the warnings, Justin no longer cared. He figured that if he was to die in this moment, getting lucky was the way he wanted to go. Fear aside, Justin grabbed the ties to his swim trunks and started to undo them. They dropped to his ankles and they both stood staring at each others' bodies, fearful of what could happen, yet too curious and full of hormones to care.

Without warning, a horrible scream echoed off the hillsides of the cove.

Sadie, threw an arm over her chest as Justin pulled his shorts back up. They both embraced each other, and Justin shielded Sadie until she had her top back on.

"What the fuck was that?" Justin asked.

Sadie was shaking with fear and shook her head in response.

"That sounded like Kurt!" Justin proclaimed.

With that, they grabbed Justin's bag and made their way over to the tide pools to find Jess and Kurt. Justin was rooting through his bag to find his flashlight as another scream rocketed through the darkness. This time, they were close enough to be able to tell which direction the scream came from.

"That was over by the pools," Sadie said, pointing in their direction.

The horrid realization that something bad was happening sunk in hard, causing Justin and Sadie to run into the darkness, hoping to find their friends still alive.

Another blood-curdling scream bellowed out before they reached the tide pools. Justin was whipping his flashlight around. He was fearful to call out to them because he didn't want to alert their aggressor to their presence. They continued to search, climbing over the rocks and boulders and that constructed the pools. Justin's heart was pounding, and Sadie began to weep aloud as they hopelessly searched for their best friends.

A final scream tore through the night. This time the shriek was gurgled, like something was choking.

Justin's worry for his friends' safety was taken precedence over his own, so he called out into the abyss of night, "KURT!!!"

As they neared the area of the pools where the choking scream came from, they heard an odd noise. It sounded like the squeal of a pig mixed with the hissing of a rattlesnake and it was coming from the shoreline close by.

They both huffed it over to that location, not caring about what was lying in wait for them.

Justin was frantically searching the shoreline with his flashlight as they ran, desperately trying to find some evidence that their friends were ok. As the light swayed about, he caught a glimpse of something.

"Look! It's Kurt's bag! Justin yelled.

Both him and Sadie made their way over to Kurt's bag. It was torn to pieces, blood staining what was left of the pack's cloth. Its contents laid strewn about in the sand along with spatters of more blood.

Suddenly, they heard a gasping sound intertwined with the crashing waves.

They both froze in place. Justin was holding his flashlight in one hand and he reached out for Sadie's with his other. It was hard to make out where the noise came from amongst the rapturing waves, but it was most certainly from behind them.

They heard the pathetic noise again. Justin shot a glance at Sadie, nodding his head to let her know that they were going to have to spin around and face the music. Sadie hesitated, grabbing his hand harder.

Justin took a deep breath, still looking at Sadie, he spoke, "We have to do this."

Sadie's eyes were spilling tears as her lips quivered from fright. Whatever killed their friends was right behind them and they both knew that they were next on the chopping block.

Sadie and Justin spun around. Justin pointed his flashlight like it was a gun in the direction of the sound. Justin and Sadie would have never imagined in their wildest dreams what they saw that night.

Kurt was laying in the sand with the waves crashing over him. His stomach was ripped wide open, with his intestines leading a trail toward the darkness of the open ocean.

"Kurt...what the fuck?" Justin said with withering voice.

Sadie was burying her face into Justin's back, horrified by what she was seeing. Realizing that she didn't see her friend, she spoke into Justin's back muffling her voice.

"Where is Jess?"

Justin took a few steps closer, trying desperately to save his friend. Suddenly, there was a splash among the waves pummeling the beach, Justin raised his flashlight in the direction of the noise.

There, within the shadows of the ebony waves, he could make out a set of eyes glowing in the light of his torch. There were four eyes, clumped close together on the head of silhouette that was wading about chest deep in the water.

Not long after spotting it, it left out the same squeal from before.

"NO!!!" Kurt screamed through his agonizing pain.

Justin and Sadie looked down at Kurt with the flashlight to witness his guts being pulled toward the sea. Kurt was reaching out for them to save him, but it was too late. In mere seconds, Kurt was dragged into a murky, cold, salt-riddled hell.

Justin frantically searched for them from the shore with his light. There was nothing there. In mere moments, the ocean had washed away the last drops of his dear friends' blood.

One last shriek could be heard coming from beneath the moonlight. They searched everywhere for a sign that Jess might still be alive. They only found her clothes. They were torn to shreds as if something mauled her. Only thing was there wasn't any blood by the scraps of her clothes or on them for that matter. It was as if she ripped them off herself.

They walked back to the parking lot together, not uttering a word.

The next couple of days, Sadie and Justin sat together for lunch, but they sat alone, away from the other students.

Nothing came of the loss of their friends for a few days. They were questioned by the police, thankfully not Carrigan or Smith because those two would never had believed the story. The local news wanted a statement from them and in a short time, everyone knew of that night.

What they saw was debated for some time.

Some people thought it might have been real because it closely mirrored the tales of mermaids. With the principal being weird and possessive. It was like in the old stories of pirates and sea captains that fell in love with these creatures. They would grow overly possessive, even driving themselves mad with their love. Some had children together and the fathers became the sworn protectors, while the mothers had to return to the sea. Others were not as lucky, most common where the tales of men being seduced by a lovely maiden, only to be dragged into the depths. It followed all the fables, sure, but most took it as just that: stories.

The popular opinion was that it was a weak alibi for the two of them to either cover up a murder or fucking on the beach that night. Still, there wasn't enough evidence to support either story.

One day, Ms. Vance walked up to them at lunch and handed them the local paper that had their friend's obituaries in it. It also had an article about the weird crime. They both read it until they came across something that made Justin's blood run cold.

"And to think, Justin's principle, Mr. Graves was right all along" quoted, Agent Carrigan

The article went on to say that Mr. Graves had gone clinically insane and would most likely never return to his previous job. Also, officers Carrigan and Smith requested to lead the investigation. The article went on to describe how they were lead detectives in researching several missing high-schooler reports, most of them being of a similar nature but in different counties.

Fed up with the article and still not having an answer for their departed friends; Justin slammed the paper shut on the table and slid it over to Sadie.

Looking down at the battered paper, Sadie noticed something extremely shocking.

"Justin...look!" She said in a shocked voice.

Puzzled, Justin shimmied closer to Sadie and looked at the paper once again.

On the back of the last page, there was a section welcoming new students in to schools. There was a picture of Jess, she was starting school in a new district, further down the coastline.

It Dwells

Chapter 1.

A humid summer is nothing to shake a stick at, but for Dylan Sanders, this was a normality. Being a land surveyor, Dylan is used to working outside in all sorts of unsavory conditions. The worst for him was winter; Dylan was one of those people that could jog in one hundred degrees and never break a sweat, but winter was a whole different beast. In winter, he would certainly die of chill, if he didn't wear a heavy garment. "Low blood sugar" was what he always used as an excuse; but that was more of a joke really.

"Nah, I'll be fine," was always the thought behind it and, for the most part, Dylan was right. Especially now. It was the dog days of summer; humid as hell and temperatures soaring into the triple digits.

Surveying in New Jersey was ideal in the summer because that was the time to get most of the jobs working in the woods with plenty of shade and, being in the garden state, New Jersey had plenty of viable forest to plow down and make into new homes.

"People got to live somewhere, yaknow?" was the common statement when asked about how they felt tearing down the natural forest. Dylan felt slightly guilty about what he did, sure, but it paid for everything he needed and, being a single guy, living in a posh apartment was fantastic.

Dylan had the life he always wanted; he wasn't much for relationships, and he never wanted to have kids of his own. He loved being alone; being able to do as he pleased and never having to answer to anyone. His life was a bliss that most people could never wrap their heads around.

Much like his personal life, Dylan liked working alone as well; most of the time requesting to go and do the surveying by himself. DynaTech, the company Dylan worked for, was not always that approving of him doing this, however, due to OSHA protocols, but "What OSHA didn't know wouldn't hurt them" Dylan's boss, Michelle would always say. So, often, Dylan would get his way (probably because Michelle had a thing for him) and get the job done without much of a hitch. Life was great and nothing was going to change that.

Or so Dylan thought.

It was Sunday morning, about 9:30 when Dylan's phone rang. The song, YYZ by Rush came blaring into the room, with that chiming noise first. The ringer went to voicemail and the notification of a message sounded off.

Wanting to sleep in that morning was something that Dylan was looking forward to, but the curiosity of whom had called and left a message became too much for him. Dylan pushed his skinny frame of a body out of bed, cracking and aching at every turn.

"Fucking mattress," Dylan said aloud.

He reached toward his nightstand with his oversized mitts and grabbed his phone. On the lock screen it simply read ONE MISSED CALL and ONE NEW VOICEMAIL. Dylan unlocked the phone to see that the person whom had called him was Michelle.

"Oh Christ! What the hell could she want on a Sunday?"

Instead of checking the message, Dylan called Michelle back.

The other line rang only twice before Michelle answered.

"So, you'll do the job then?"

Silence...

"You didn't listen to my message, did you? Jesus, I hate when people do that," Michelle declared, letting out a deep sigh. Dylan pictured her rubbing her forehead, faking a headache as she normally would do.

Michelle put the phone back up to her ear and continued, "Ok, I will start from the top again."

Taking in a deep breath, Michelle laid out the entire spiel once again.

"We got a job for a survey in the Beech Oak forests near Little Wood Park. The state is looking to build some ranger stations out there so they have a halfway point between some of the parks. You would be doing this alone though because it's not a huge area. They are only looking to build a sizable office space with a set of restrooms and shower facilities in an unattached building. Up for it?"

Dylan was silent for a few moments. He was trying to make himself want to work on a Sunday, but he just couldn't bring himself to do it.

"Um, you there?" Michelle asked.

Dylan snapped out of his thought process, shaking his head in an attempt to clear the fog.

"Look, Michelle, I normally would be up for this, but it's Sunday. Can't this wait until Monday?"

Michelle let out another deep sigh and Dylan could hear her tapping her desk through the phone. Due to the nature of her having a thing for Dylan, she had that impatient girlfriend mentality toward him.

"Well, I thought this would be right up your alley, since you're Mr. I-don't-play-nice-with-others," she said in a goofy voice, then continued, "But, if that's the case, I can call Zach and see if he will do it."

Dylan spoke up immediately, "No, no it's fine. I will do it, but I want off Monday next week to make up for the extra day."

"Okay, that's fine. Just remember our agreement; take your gun with you and the company satellite phone. This is just between us; remember that. If you ever have to use that gun, you brought it and I know nothing," Michelle said.

"Yep, I got it. Just email me the coordinates of where I am going, and I will head out there in the next hour or so."

Dylan paused for a split-second before adding, "And, before you say anything, I will check in for report every hour."

Michelle swallowed hard enough for it to be audible, still hesitant of letting him go alone.

"This is more than likely going to be the last solo adventure for the summer, so live it up and have a good day."

"Thanks, Michelle," Dylan replied.

They both hung up and Dylan started to prepare himself for an unwanted day of work.

This day was exceptionally warm and sticky outside, and, against his better judgement, Dylan wore a short-sleeved t-shirt. Normally he would be covered in long sleeves and jeans tucked into his boots to fend off ticks from making their way into unwanted places. Since he wasn't supposed to be working today, Dylan figured that he at least wanted to be comfortable.

In his pack he threw his gun, a Sig Sauer short barrel 9mm, as well as a couple packets of Pop Tarts; a large canteen of water; a map; and his wallet with some cash, for good measure. Depending on the size of the job, Dylan would normally pack more food and water, but this was going to be a short job, so he wasn't worried about it.

Dylan climbed into his F-350 and threw his bag onto one of the seats in the back of the extended cab. He reached into the glove box, grabbed the satellite phone, and plugged it into the charger. The battery LED on the phone lit up red indicating, that the battery was almost dead.

"Fucking battery! These damn phones are freaking ancient," Dylan thought to himself.

Grabbing his personal cellphone, he opened Google Maps and plugged in the coordinates. A blue circle popped up on the map. Dylan swiped his fingers to zoom out and he was surprised to see that he had a decent hike ahead of him.

"Two miles? Shit! You couldn't make it easy for me, could you, Michelle?"

With that, Dylan put his key in the ignition, started the car, and made his way to the location.
Chapter 2.

It was 11:25 when he finally made it to an area that was close enough to his destination. The road was surrounded by enormous conifer trees on each side and thick underbrush of raspberry thorns and burn hazel.

Dylan pulled his truck off the road as far off the shoulder as he could, parking it in a flat grassy bed, then he reached into the back seat and grabbed his bag. He opened it up to drop his keys into one of the smaller zip pouches on the side of it. Then he searched through the bag, double checking that he packed all his equipment, which he did, so he prepared himself for the long trek.

As he stepped out of the truck, Dylan suddenly remembered something.

"The SAT phone!"

Looking back into the cab, he saw that the LED on the phone was still red. Confused, he traced the USB cable only to find out that he didn't plug the cable into his car charging port.

"Fuck!" Dylan said loudly.

Checking the phone's status revealed that he had a little over twenty percent battery power left. Dylan took it, figuring that would be enough by rationing the job to only take a few hours' time. Dylan clipped it in the holster on his belt and then closed the door to his truck.

Dylan performed the standard parked vehicle protocol. He grabbed traffic cones from his truck-bed and sat them up ten feet from the car in a staggered pattern up to his truck. He reached into his pocket, thumbing the lock button on his keyless entry fob. A beeping noise followed and his headlights flashed, signaling the truck was locked.

It was so quiet on the road and the whole time Dylan was setting up the traffic cones; he didn't see one car, hear a bird, a twig snap, or even the wind blowing through the trees. Nothing...just dead silence. He never felt this alone before. He did plenty of other jobs before in the middle of nowhere, but he always heard wildlife or the nearby traffic. This time it was truly him in complete solitude.

Dylan always wanted a situation like this to happen to him, but now that it finally happened, he wasn't as cheery as he thought he would be. He couldn't shake the feeling that he was being watched the whole time he was placing the cones. The hair on his neck stood up several times and goosebumps riddled his skin.

Among the warm air, he could feel short gusts of frigid wind. Nothing about what he was to do was feeling right, but he knew it was the job and he just had to reason with himself.

"Knock it off, man. You're only going to make it worse by putting this childish shit in your head. Just remain calm and finish the job," Dylan thought to himself.

As he reached down to grab his backpack, Dylan caught something in his peripheral. He dropped his bag, jolting his body in the direction of what he thought he saw. Just beyond the tree-line, he could have sworn he saw a pair of amber-colored eyes. But, nothing was there.

"Get your shit together, man!" Dylan whispered.

Shrugging off his foolish thoughts, he secured his pack to his waist via a clip strap and made his way across the road towards the tree line.

He made it to the edge of the woods to look for the best way to enter. The brush was so thick in certain spots that he couldn't even see through it. Just then, it dawned on Dylan that he forgot to pack something; his machete.

"Fucking rookie mistake," He grumbled as he bent down to pick up a sizeable log to swipe away at the bushes and hazel. It wasn't the best solution, but it did the trick and, in a short time, Dylan took his first steps into the forest.

As he trudged into the suffocating wilderness, it felt as if the trees and undergrowth just swallowed him up.

The air within the woods was blistering despite an abundance of shade. It felt like he had stepped into an oven. An opaque fog rose from beneath dead leaves and ferns from autumns passed.

Dylan took a second to listen for wildlife once more.

Nothing; not a single noise. It was very eerie because the whole forest seemed dead, perhaps suffocated from the increasing temperature. The silence made him almost miss the deafening noise he made bumbling through the woods.

The abrupt calm was starting to be enough for Dylan to contemplate turning tail. He knew that he would probably be labeled a chicken, but he didn't care. Something felt off and he wasn't about to discover why.

"Fuck it!" Dylan declared, as he reached up and wiped the sweat off his forehead.

Dylan turned to start heading back toward the road and couldn't believe what he was seeing. Even though he only took a few steps in, the woods certainly did swallow him up. The edge of the forest was nowhere to be seen, just never-ending miles of trees, ferns and bushes.

"WHAT THE FUCK!!" Dylan screamed as he spat a mist of salty sweat that accumulated around his lips. He quickly panned around and realized that he couldn't see the road from anywhere; just the same repeating silent woods.

His heart started racing and his breathing became more sporadic. This reminded him of some helpful words of wisdom. He was told many times by his camping friends to not lose your head when you get lost in the woods, it is imperative to remain calm and think.

Dylan sat down on a nearby rock and started focusing on his breathing. This helped him to hone his thoughts and he arrived at an epiphany.

"The SAT phone!" Dylan remembered.

He slung his sweat-stained backpack around and frantically dug through it, managing to find the SAT phone. The red light was blinking but it still had a sufficient amount of battery to make a call. Sliding down the mouthpiece of the phone revealed the number pad and a dial-tone sounded.

"Thank God!" Dylan thought.

Dylan dialed the office and heard the ever-so-heavenly noise of the phone dialing and ringing.

SNAP!

Just then Dylan swore he heard something break somewhere in this woodland hell. He wasn't very sure where it came from because of the phone ringing in his ear. RING, RING, RING, the line on the other end finally picked up. Dylan threw all his cares aside about looking like a pussy and started screaming into the phone.

"MICHELLE!!! SEND SOMEONE HERE TO GET ME! I'M TRAPPED IN HERE! I CAN'T FIND MY WAY OUT!!!"

There was nothing but silence on the line.

"MICHELLE HELP ME!!! STOP FUCKING AROUND!!"

Still nothing.

CRACK!

The noise reverberated so ferociously amongst the trees that it made Dylan's ears ring. Dylan was getting nervous; uncontrollably sweating. The hand holding the phone to his ear was shaking feverishly.

The sound was much closer this time and mimicked that of a tree being snapped in half like a twig. Dylan's mind was wheeling with wild thoughts causing him to speak gibberish into the phone in a vain attempt to finally hear another human voice.

CRUNCH!

The sound was so loud this time that it sounded like it was right behind him.

Fed up with getting no answer, Dylan ended the call and dialed 911. The call connected and began ringing again as before.

"C'mon, pick up. Please pick up," Dylan desperately whimpered into the phone.

He heard the click of the other end picking up the call and wasted no time unloading on the operator.

"PLEASE, PLEASE HELP ME! I'M LOST IN THE WOODS AND I THINK SOMETHING IS COMING FOR ME!!!"

Nothing, just like before. Dylan started crying in desperation, his mind swimming with illbourne thoughts of being stuck here with whatever was making that earsplitting sound.

"GOD DAMNIT! SOMEONE TALK TO ME!!!" Dylan shouted.

A few seconds of silence followed on the other side of the conversation, then suddenly the phone started making a static distortion. It was faint at first but swiftly grew in tonality until the static reached the phone's peak volume.

SMASH!

Dylan could feel the shattering sound resonate in his chest, like the booming blow of nearby fireworks on the 4th of July.

The deafening snapping noise coupled with the static on his phone was escalating Dylan into a full-on fever pitch. He was having problems keeping his breathing under control and he was feeling faint from the blazing heat and constant perspiration.

He felt as if he would lose consciousness, but suddenly the static on his phone silenced and this perked Dylan up. Feeling much weaker, Dylan couldn't scream like before. With tears flowing down his cheeks, he stumbled over his words while gently sobbing into the phone.

"Please...I really need help here...I don't want to die."

With that, he fell to his knees and could see his tears and beads of sweat dripping onto his jeans making moist stains.

CRASH!

His crying escalated into loud sobs.

"Please help me!" he tried once more into the phone.

SLAM!

"PLEASE WILL SOMEBODY HELP ME!!!" Dylan managed to get out over his childish weeping.

At that moment, a vicious squeal tore through the claustrophobic thickets. Dylan's phone started making the static noise once again.

WHACK!

This time, Dylan could see the devastating forces being acted out on the forest. In the distance he could make out a pine tree being violently jostled. Down the tree went, crashing into the soft undergrowth.

SPLINTER!

Realizing that something real was making that noise, Dylan grabbed his phone and slid the microphone plate up to silence it. Unfortunately, it didn't stop the static.

"Oh, for the love of God, how is this happening?"

He slid the plate back and forth a couple of times, but with no different result.

In a panic, Dylan did the only thing he could think of and smashed it against a nearby rock. Despite losing his phone, this did at least end the static.

Again, an animal-like noise bellowed from the direction of the fallen tree; a low growl, like something straight from the bowels of hell.

Not wanting to just stand around, Dylan ran toward the thickest tree trunk he could find and pressed his back against it, hoping it would hide him from the monstrosity.

Throwing his bag to the ground, Dylan slid down to the forest floor and rifled through it until he came across his gun. Removing the clip revealed to him that he only had six shots. Not wanting to take any chances, Dylan threw the half-empty clip into his bag and grabbed a full clip of twelve shots. As quietly as he could, Dylan loaded the clip into the butt of the gun. He pulled the slide back and released the slide-stop with his thumb, loading a bullet into the chamber.

He stood up, still pressed against the tree, his heart was racing due to all the horrific occurrences.

Just then, Dylan's nose was assaulted by something very fowl. The atrocious stench made him want to wretch. It reeked of what could be described as feces and a heavy bodily musk.

BASH!

The sound made Dylan freeze in place. To his dismay, the tree being torn apart was only feet behind him.

The bashing sound made his trigger-finger twitch, damn near firing his pistol. He holstered his gun in the waist of his jeans and threw his hand over his mouth to muffle his cry of surprise.

The brute's growling could be heard clear as day and the smell was stronger and even more offensive.

"OH FUCK! It's right behind me!" Dylan internally realized.

A loud guttural growl raped Dylan's ears and resonated through the tree trunk. Suddenly, he could feel the tree shudder as the behemoth sank its claws into its trunk.

Despite his growing fear, Dylan knew that now was the time to act. He slowly reached down toward his jeans and removed his gun. Cautiously, he pulled back the slide to assure himself that a bullet was in the chamber. There was and, taking great care, he released the slide back into place.

CLICK!

Luckily for Dylan, the beast was too occupied with decimating the tree that hid him.

"Here goes nothing."
Chapter 3.

He couldn't believe his eyes as he rounded the tree to face the demon. A mass of greyish white fur was moving sporadically as the thing kept digging into the tree. He could see that the hair was clumped together in numerous spots with mud, leaves and what appeared to be dried blood. The abomination was massive; its legs alone dwarfed Dylan's body and Dylan's head only came about waist high to the creature. The beast's jowls hung wide, revealing massive teeth that looked like knives made of bone. Its head was shaped like a goat's and adorned a menagerie of antlers tangled upon themselves. Its eyes appeared to burn with the hue of fire and its claws were unfathomably large, easily able to palm Dylan's skull and have plenty of room to spare.

"Sasquatch!" Dylan thought to himself.

He had heard stories of them, but that was a fool's tale that everyone back at the office scoffed at. Never in a million years did he think he would be face-to-face with one. But, here it was, more horrifying than any stories could ever had hoped to describe. His trigger-finger squeezed ever tighter.

Being cornered and having no other option, Dylan instinctively pulled the trigger, sending a bullet into the beast's chest.

A dark liquid that resembled tar trickled from the wound, yet the monster made no cries of pain. Instead it fingered at the bullet-hole, as if wondering what had happened.

With the ogre occupied, Dylan figured that it would be a good time to run. Keeping his eyes on the monster, he slowly dipped down against the raptured tree trunk and wiggled his arms through the straps of his pack.

With his back-pack secured, Dylan took off running. Behind him he could hear the beast's thunderous roar, signaling to Dylan that it was aware of his retreat.

BOOM!

In his peripheral, Dylan witnessed the tree smash to the ground, causing him to take his sights off where he was running. He snagged his left foot upon a root jutting from the ground, making him fumble. Without thinking, Dylan rushed back to his feet and shot a quick glance back toward the creature.

The beast stood, towering over the shattered remains of the tree it tore apart with its bare hands. The monster stared at Dylan, its face contorted with anger much like a snarling dog.

The ghastly encounter was too much for Dylan and he uncontrollably urinated on himself.

Fearing for his life, he took off running. Every so often, he would look back and fire another slug into the abomination. It did nothing to the beast.

Every step felt like a labor as he did his best to gain momentum and not falter again. Dylan's speed was impressive with all the surrounding brush blurring past him as a green smear.

Once more, he heard the haunting wail of the monster before hearing the deep-toned thump of the abomination's advancing paces. One of the beast steps matched several of Dylan's, and the rapidity of its motion matched that of a locomotive. It did not take long for the behemoth to reach Dylan.

With one effortless sway of its arm, Dylan was lifted from the ground, hurtling deeper into the woods. His skull shattered upon impact with a moss-covered boulder and his consciousness rapidly wavered. The last sight he saw, was the white haze of a ghost with fire in its eyes.

The remains of Dylan's body were never recovered.
A Walk on a Winter's Night

Chapter 1.

A season full of joy is something that most people take for granted around Christmas. Good will toward man, giving gifts and meeting with friends and family around a hot meal. Perfection for most, but not all of us are lucky to experience even an ounce of joy and family around this time of year.

Stephen Ferguson is one such person. He has a family, sure, but they haven't heard from him in some time. Not by choice, but by decisions made earlier in his life. Stephen was disowned by his parents in his teenage years due to an obsession with drugs. His parents did everything they could to try and get him off the stuff, but no matter how many rehabs he visited, Stephen's urges never subsided. Eventually, after years of trying to help him and having many of their priceless possessions stolen for drug money, Jim and Susan Ferguson had had enough.

It was a December night when Stephen was kicked out, only a few weeks away from Christmas in fact. His parents weren't complete monsters about it; they had a few friends working in halfway homes and managed to pull some strings and get Stephen a semi-permanent residence.

That was three years ago now, and both Stephen and his parents haven't spoken since. He stayed in the home, even got a job inside cleaning the place and serving meals in the kitchen.

His addictions till existed, however. No matter how much he tried to ween himself off the stuff, he still found a way to get back into the habit. The only thing he learned was how to hide it from the residents.

It's not like he didn't want to quit; he did. It wasn't his goal to end up in a home with no family and people that fake caring about him. Still, how does one get rid of something that helps them through their depression? How do you silence your mind and fight off the urges to end it all without drugs; they made him happy...or at least, what he perceived to be happiness.

Once again, December reared its ugly head, marking the fourth year that everything went to shit. The only thing different this year was that Stephen's free ride was going to come to an end. Within the last year, a huge outbreak of heroin and flakka was on the rise; it was like the 80's all over again. Beds were becoming a rarity in the homes and for someone that seemed to be off drugs, they couldn't keep letting him live there.

It was the second to last day before Stephen had to move out. He was on the second floor of the building in an area called "6 South" on the south side of the building. He was mopping up a pile of what used to be someone's eggs with hash browns when Martin, the house manager, approached him.

"Hey Stephen, can we talk for a second?" Martin asked.

Stephen knew what was coming. He was going to get the old, "Hey man, if I had my way you could live here forever, but my hands are tied," routine; you know, fake concern and false wishes. He rested his mop back into the bucket full of murky water, and folded his arms.

"Sure, what's up?" Stephen asked.

Visually, Stephen could tell that Martin picked up on the sarcastic tone of his voice, but he didn't care. This was the guy that was supposed to care about him, but, like everyone else, it was all a lie in the end.

"Dude, this is bullshit that I have to have you leave. I tried forcing the case the other day. I explained that you worked here and you were better, but it did nothing to sway them. I swear, those fucks that fund this place really could care less. I just wanted you to know that I am going to miss you."

Martin reached out to Stephen with an envelope in his hand. It was very girthy and heavy.

"What is this? I don't want you to-"

Martin cut Stephen off by raising his other hand to silence him.

"I want you to take this and I don't want excuses as to why you don't need it. I'm going to work my ass off and try to get you your job back. I hate this shit!"

Martin slammed the wall next to them attempting to release some pent-up anger.

He then took a deep breath before continuing, "All this fucking red-tape pisses me off. Inside the envelope is my number and my address. If you need a place to crash, just call me; I have a garage with nothing in it that can easily be made into an extra room, even has heat going to it."

"Thanks man...I really don't know what to say," Stephen said.

Stephen placed his mop back into the mop bucket and rung it dry. He knew that Martin was going to either give him a hug or at the least a handshake. The last thing he wanted was a mop full of vomit to be between them.

"I think I can find somewhere to live. I have a couple friends from back in the day that aren't users, but if I can't seal a deal on that end, I will call you for sure," Stephen assured him.

Martin grabbed Stephen's hand and shook it firmly. His lower lip was quivering slightly, and his eyes became red and glassy. Martin honestly cared, and it was the first time in Stephen's life that he saw another human being care about him. He saw the same face on his father the day they kicked him out; stern, but only a whispered sentiment away from becoming a waterfall of emotion.

"Be sure that you do...please take care of yourself Stephen. I'm off tomorrow but you can bet your ass I will be here to see you off. If you need a ride anywhere that day, just let me know."

They stood in silence for a couple of seconds, both strong men fighting back tears, the stench of the expelled breakfast still lingered at their feet.

As they stood there, the sun was starting to finally rise at eight am and a gentle sprinkling of flurries began. Some of the residents that chose to skip early breakfast were filing out of their rooms to make it out for the morning curfew.

Martin looked up at Stephen one last time and said, "Don't forget, I am here...please call me when you need help."

Martin then turned to make his way back down to the lobby, probably to make sure that none of the residents had stolen anything on their way out; a futile attempt, sure, but someone had to do it. Stephen watched as Martin mixed in with the others and disappeared.

The envelope in his hand had 'MERRY CHRISTMAS' on the front, written sloppily with Martin's horrid handwriting. Stephen wanted to know what was inside of the envelope, but he feared that he already knew what it was; he just didn't want to know the actual sum.

Fighting back his guilt for accepting the donation, Stephen opened it to find five hundred and fifty bucks in twenty, ten and five-dollar bills. Along with the money was the promised slip of paper with his number and address; a stack of food stamps and, lastly, there were several gift cards to places like Starbucks and Red Robin. The cards were all made out to Martin, probably early Christmas presents from friends or co-workers.

Stephen was touched, but he felt a deep sadness weighing heavily on his heart. He began to realize that no matter what he had in this envelope, he was once again alone and without a place to live.

As Stephen finished putting away his cleaning tools for the last time, he caught himself in a mirror that hung by the storage room's handwashing sink. He must have seen himself in this same mirror hundreds of times, but this time something was different. This time, he didn't recognize the boy that he associated himself with from his ghastly memories. No, this time he saw the man that he turned into to. Stephen walked up to the sink in front of the mirror and reached out a hand to touch the reflection of his face. Then...it clicked!

"How long has it been? 4 years? A lifetime since we've spoken," Stephen thought to himself as he remembered his parents.

Indeed, it had been four years since Stephen had last spoke with his parents. The haunting memory of their last conversation was enough to make that time warranted, but this overwhelming sadness inside of him was making the memory less muddied. There was much yelling and accusations, but the truth was Stephen was afraid; afraid of his addiction, afraid of the inevitable thought that he would one day be staring into a mirror in a grimy janitor's closet, wondering what if. It had been far too long, especially for family.

Stephen reached down and adjusted the rusting handles on the sink. The water spattered a bit and then flooded into a forceful stream. Stephen meant to splash his face with some water to help him snap out of it, but all he could do was stare into his own reflection and ponder the memories he had of home; the memories that were happy. Sadly, much like steaming hot water near a mirror, the reflections of his memories grew foggy and nearly unrecognizable.
Chapter 2.

It was heavily snowing when Stephen ordered his venti caramel macchiato. He hadn't had one of these in quite some time and figured it would be better to use the gift cards first instead of the cash. He found a faux wood table in the corner near a window and decided to sit there. Despite the wooden exterior, the table was cold as steel. He pulled his chair away from the table, it scrapped across the tile floor producing a metallic grinding sound. People in line waiting for their drinks shot angered glances at him, but he didn't care; all he wanted was a quiet corner and his delicious hot beverage.

The first couple of sips were divine and Stephen had to fight back the urge to just chug it all down in a few gulps. Instead of acting like a savage, he chose to enjoy his java paradise and simply watch the snow fall.

"Steve? Steve is that you?" he heard a voice call out to him.

A female standing in the crowd of coffee-addicted zombies waved to get his attention. Beyond the humdrum dark colors of winter dress, he saw a woman with hair as orange as fire. Her complexion was only a few shades darker than the snow falling outside. She wore a bright purple pea coat and black thermal leggings tucked into her snow boots. Stephen tried to recall whom this woman could be, but nothing was coming to mind. By compulsion, he raised a hand signaling that he heard her.

"IDIOT! What the hell are you doing? You might not know who the hell this person is," Stephen thought, shaming himself in the process.

Fighting through the crowd, she made her way over to his table. Stephen's heart was pounding, the closer she got, the more beautiful she became. Still, the memories of this person were not coming to him and that made him more anxious than the pretty face did.

"I'm sorry, I don't mean to bother you, but are you Steve Ferguson?"

Steve, nodded his head but couldn't shake the puzzled look off his face.

"You don't remember me, huh?"

Embarrassed, Stephen looked back out the window, trying to play it cool.

"It's ok, we actually haven't seen each other in a fairly long time. It's me Steve...it's Sarah!"

Stephen's face lit up. It had certainly been a long time; several years in fact. They were sort of an item back in the day; a puppy love, mostly.

Back when Stephen was a child, his parents used to take him with them to this exclusive camping resort every weekend. For a long time, he was one of the only kids there, until the day Sarah Smith came around. It took some time, but, eventually, Stephen worked through his cowardice and talked to the fiery red-head. It wasn't long, and they became great friends along with their parents. Those summers with Sarah in that campground were some of the best times in Stephen's life. The two of them spoke every now and then on Facebook, until it eventually dwindled into just thumbs ups and laughing emojis.

"Sarah? I...how? You and your folks moved way up north and the last time we spoke. You moved out west to Ohio. Don't get me wrong, I'm happy to see you, but what are you doing here?"

The look that grew over Sarah's cheerful face ripped into Stephen's heart; her smile dropped, eyes widened, and her creamy skin became even more pale. Sarah reached for a seat and hastily scraped it across the tiles to sit with him, once again cutting through the standard coffee shop jazz with that annoying metallic racket. Sarah reached out across that table and seized Stephen's coffee from his hands, gently sitting it on the table.

"Steve, I'm so sorry," she said, as she placed her frigid fingers into the palms of Stephen's hands. More confusion flurried Stephen.

"Sorry? Sorry for what?"

"You really don't know?" Sarah asked with a dismayed tone.

Tears started to pool at the bottom of Sarah's hazel eyes. A great sorrow tainted her expression.

"I know you and your parents had a falling out, but I never would have thought that no one would have told you," Sarah said, clutching Stephen's hand.

Stephen shimmied closer to the table and leaned in to get as close to Sarah as he could.

"Tell me what?" he asked.

Sarah began wiping away her tears with her free hand, all the while griping Stephen's hand even tighter.

"I really wish I wasn't the one telling you this but...Steve...your parents passed away two days ago; Thursday morning. The only reason I know is because a bunch of the campground friends spread the word and wanted to come for the viewing."

"What? No, that's not possible. You're just messing with me," Stephen's voice began trembling as he was choking back the growing tears. Denial was creeping into his mind, but Sarah wouldn't lie about something like this.

It was only fitting that life would throw him this flaming bag of shit, just when he was thinking about mending old wounds. The real kicker was the million-dollar question: why didn't anyone tell him? Stephen knew why but wanted to fake ignorance for the sake of his pride.

"Look, I know that this is very sudden, and the weight of the situation hasn't fully taken effect yet, but I think you should come to the viewing with me. You have a right to be there."

Her fingers were warming up in Stephen's hands. It was feeling that he hadn't experienced in some time; it felt cozy and secure, almost like a home would feel. The home he would never get back.

The thought of being accompanied by Sarah to the viewing felt comforting, but the idea of being an outsider around his own relatives was something that he was not prepared to handle.

"I...I can't. Listen Sarah, I would like to see you again. Maybe we could talk more about everything then, but you must trust me on this one; I can't face the music. I wasn't told about this because I wasn't meant to be there," Stephen confessed.

Confused, Sarah removed her hands from Stephen's grasp and her tone became a tad more stand-offish.

"What do you mean you can't face the music? You weren't meant to be there? Steve, they're your parents! You have to be there."

"People would not want-"

"FUCK what other people think!" Sarah shouted, again attracting the attention of the coffee-slurping patrons. Her eyes now seemed as fiery as her hair and in her eruption, she withdrew her hand from Stephen's.

Stephen was shocked by her outburst, but he understood why she did it. The man she once fell in love with turned into a drug-using coward, afraid of his own extended family's judgement. He didn't blame her at all. Over the years of his downward spiral, he never blamed any old acquaintances that were ashamed of him.

Sarah reached across the table once more, extending a hand to gently caress Stephen's cheek.

"Steve...the viewing is at six, if you come to it. I will have a seat open for you next to me. I will sit near the back, so no one will see you. Please...please come."

With that, Sarah stood up, grabbed her drink and leaned in to place a gentle kiss on Stephen's forehead. It gave him the butterflies that he felt long ago as a child. All these years later and Sarah was still able to deter his sadness, if even for a moment.

Stephen didn't watch her walk toward the door. He kept his gaze low, peering into frothed milk and espresso swirling about in his beverage. It wasn't until he heard the bell ringing above the door, signaling its movement, that he looked out his window. He watched her as her red hair danced between the snowflakes like fire in the darkness. She did not look back once, not that he expected her to.

It was now 3pm.
Chapter 3.

The wind picked up as Stephen walked out of the Starbucks, causing the snow to fall in greater intensity. The lingering predicament was weighing heavy on his mind as well as the grand question of 'where I am going to sleep tonight?'

"One thing at a time," Stephen thought to himself.

He noticed a bus stop across the parking lot and considered waiting for the bus to show up to catch a ride, but he doubted that it would be running in a storm like this.

So, he went back inside and asked to use the phone to call for a cab. While waiting, he used up the remaining money on one of the gift cards to purchase another coffee.

Soon enough, the standard yellow cab pulled up outside of the coffee shop. Upon opening the shop's door, he noticed that the wind had picked up even more; a full-on blizzard had come.

Slamming the cab door shut, Stephen threw his bag into the space beside him and brushed the snow off his shoulders as best he could.

"Hell of a storm out there, huh? You're lucky pal. I was just about to call it quits for the day. Where to? And please say it ain't far," The cab driver said.

"The mall, please," Stephen replied.

"Closed."

"Ok, how about Red Robin?" Stephen asked with a desperate voice.

"Closed too. Look bud, we both know that the only places that are going to be open during a blizzard like this are (the cab driver holds up three fingers) Wal-Mart, Panera and... he points toward the Starbucks without saying its name. So, what will it be?"

A silence drifted into the cab. Stephen had no idea where he wanted to go. He knew where he should be going, but that fiasco to be in the funeral home was several hours away. With time running thin and the view of an impatient cab driver's eyes casting daggers at him through a rear-view mirror, Stephen blurted out the first thing that came to mind.

"I know this sounds crazy, but would there be any chance I could hire you for the evening? I have two places I need to be tonight, and the buses aren't running."

The cab driver spun around in his seat and stared at Stephen.

"Buddy, I ain't putting my neck out there tonight to have my head chopped off. Once I get you to wherever the hell you want to go...and only one place, I am done for the night. I need to live on so I can cabby another day, got it?"

Steve nodded, then replied, "Wal-Mart then."

The cab driver didn't say a word. He just grunted, spun back to the wheel and gripped it tightly with both hands before carefully drifting off into drive.

As the cab slowly made its way toward the store, Stephen's mind began drifting off into the dangerous territory of blame and depression. He knew that no matter where he would go tonight, he wouldn't be able to run from the fact that his parents were now dead and there was nothing he could do to change that.

Still, it didn't hurt him as much as he thought it would and that just made things worse. Stephen wasn't sad because he didn't get to see them one last time, nor because he didn't get to say his final good bye. It was the idea that his parents didn't try to contact him knowing they were dying.

"Was I really that bad?" Stephen pondered to himself.

He knew that he was, but he always thought that death had a way of changing things; wiping the slate clean, so to speak. No matter how much he tried to wrap his brain around the 'why' he knew the answer, but he just didn't want to admit it.

Gazing out the window, he watched the ghostly blur of the heavy snowflakes streak across the dark blanket of the quickly approaching night.

"Snow's always kinda depressing to watch, isn't it?" Stephen asked aloud to the cabby.

"Huh?"

"The snow. I always found it depressing to watch it fall, especially at night. Yaknow, like, you can't stop it." Stephen said.

The driver cleared his throat, "I guess I can see where you are coming from, but I on the other hand, I love this stuff. It makes me feel like a kid again. Sure, I have to drive in this shit and risk my life for a Wal-Mart trip, but I love it nonetheless."

Stephen continued to look out his window without reply. He was remembering what it was like to be a kid, before everything went wrong. His parents truly loved him when he was younger. He remembered camping trips to the beach, birthday parties and Christmases with far too many presents. Then it all ended, because life's crutches started.

"You ok back there?" The cabby asked.

Stephen shifted from looking out the window, leaning forward to the partition between them. There, he noticed the cab driver's license.

"George, is it?" Stephen asked.

"That's what the card says," George sarcastically replied.

Stephen flopped back into his seat and began fumbling his thumbs around in an anxious fashion. He looked at the rear-view again. George thankfully was paying attention to the road and only shot a moments glance back toward Stephen.

He took that as a sign to make small talk.

"George, have you ever done something so bad that people didn't want you around anymore?"

George let out a smoker's wheezy chuckle, "Sure kid, I think we all have pissed someone off in our lives at one point. Why? Do that to some girl or something?"

"No," Stephen watched out the window as his cab was passing the funeral home. He contemplated yelling for George to stop driving, but the service was hours away. A haunting realization came over him that his parents were both in that building. It felt like they were waiting for him to finally come and make amends. All those bad decisions, the fights, the tears; it all meant nothing now.

"Hey, George? I really don't want to go to the store anymore. I don't think I have enough cash to pay for the full trip anyway. Could you just drop me off up here at the intersection?" Stephen asked, against his better judgement.

George coughed, wiping whatever he hacked up onto the sleeve of his shirt, "Whatever you want. I'll take you to Wally World without an extra charge if ya like. I just want to wrap up for the night."

"Thanks for the offer, but up here is good." Stephen replied.

George clicked on his right blinker and pulled over to the desired corner. Stephen grabbed his bags and stepped out into the ever-escalating blizzard. The wind was unforgiving, and the snow came down in such an intensity that it made it hard to see. Shielding his face with one of his bags, Stephen made his way toward the front of the cab to pay George.

Suddenly, George's window scrolled down with a robotic hum. George waved Stephen off and shouted, "This one's on the house!"

The cab started its way off down the street, eventually disappearing into the hellish snowfall.

Now, standing a block up the street from the funeral home, Stephen could barely make out the building in the distance, with the only other thing being open was a gas station.

Every step he took toward the building was questioned. Sure, Sarah was going to be there, but what if others noticed him? What if he was forced out of this home like his previous one? Could he take the humiliation if it came? Could he answer for his actions? The closer he got the more anxiety built within him.

"Did I kill them? Did not being there kill them? It's all my fault..."

Stephen couldn't take it anymore and he stopped dead in his tracks, staring at the home. It was closer now and he could see the lights on in the windows. It seemed like it was beckoning to him, telling him that everything would be ok if he just gave it all a try.

"No...I...can't do it."

Next to him was the gas station, its warming glow and occupancy of non-judging strangers seemed the better option to him at the moment.

Stephen opened the door of the gas station. A metallic squeak followed by the jingling of a bell accompanied its motion. There was no one behind the counter and not a soul in sight shopping.

"Coffee; that sounds really nice right about now," Stephen thought to himself, knowing full well he had recently consumed the equivalent of four espressos just an hour ago.

He stood before the coffee counter taking in his choices. The carafes were all lined neatly on the counter displaying their contents in large bold letters:

MEDIUM BLEND, SUNRISE, DARK ROAST, DECAF, MAPLE NUT CRUNCH

"Well, there is obviously only one you should be drinking," he thought as he grabbed the DARK ROAST pot.

As Stephen was pouring his coffee, he could hear a toilet flush come from a back room and moments later an employee emerged. A woman wearing the gas station's uniform made her way up the aisle towards Stephen. They exchanged eye contact, but only for a moment before their gazes darted in opposite directions. The attendant changed her path down an adjacent aisle to avoid Stephen.

"Well that was weird; its not like I'm going to bite," Stephen thought. He shook off the cold encounter and added the finishing touches to his coffee.

At the register, the young woman was doing what looked like school work. She had a few text books open on the counter along with a laptop. Stephen could hear the gentle clicking of her typing as he approached.

"Hi," Stephen said to her as he laid his coffee on the counter.

The woman didn't reply with a greeting; she grabbed Stephen's coffee, looked at the bottom rim to see what size the cup was and entered it into the register.

"That will be $2.50," she stated coldly.

Stephen pulled the envelope of money out of his bag and flicked through the cash to find a couple dollars as to not break a larger bill. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see the teller looking at him fumbling through a wad of cash.

"Hey man, I uh...look, I don't normally do this, but my boss isn't here and, as you can see, I'm a starving school girl trying to live off a gas station wage. So...umm...you cool, man?" She asked, finally speaking to Stephen.

Stephen was taken aback by the sudden abrupt offer.

"A moment ago, you didn't even say hello to me, now you want me to buy drugs off you? Pass," Stephen declared, slamming three dollars on one of her books blocking the counter.

"Keep the change!" Stephen said sharply.

He turned to leave before the attendant tried again.

"I'm sorry, it's night and there is a snow storm outside. I didn't really expect to see anyone in here tonight and, well, you know, being a girl...I kinda have to worry about certain things possibly happening."

"Fair enough," Stephen replied. He glanced at her books again, then asked, "What are you studying?"

The woman flipped one her books over to show the cover. 'The Art of Writing' was the title.

"Oh, trying to be an author huh? What school are you going to?"

"Well...I'm not going to school, actually, I don't have enough money to go, and my folks are certainly not going to cover it because they think it's a stupid dream. So, I am teaching myself as well as I can. I just sell on the side to try and save up for school someday."

The idea of taking the edge off sounded good to Stephen at the moment. Given the current circumstances, he justified his decision to feel less guilty.

"Well, I can't turn down helping someone to better their education, now can I?" Stephen said.

The loading dock out back was perfect for grabbing a quick smoke; a thick sheet metal roof covered most of the landing with a planked wooden fence blocking the view from the street. Stephen and his new pal made themselves comfortable on two chairs that had the gas station's name spray-painted on their backs. The city was dead quiet with the only noises being the inhaling of smoke and falling snow.

"So, what's your story?" the attendant questioned.

Stephen took another drag and stared off down the back alley. He was asked what his story was before over the years, either being at the home by new housemates or, more recently, by old friends. He always found it amazing how much people wanted to know the random stories of strangers, never knowing if they would actually care. His tale, though, was one he hated retelling. Every single time he retold it, it was like slicing a new wound into his flesh.

"I would really rather not; I've been through enough shit today," Stephen replied.

The clerk took a long drag before exhaling out an impressively large cloud of smoke. She coughed a little bit towards the end before it escalated into a dry hacking noise. She covered her mouth with the sleeve of her jacket to catch anything that might have come out.

In a raspy voice she said, "Heather, my name is Heather. Let's not be complete strangers."

Stephen let out an obviously fake chuckle, "Thanks."

Stephen sighed, suddenly overcome with the feeling that he had to reluctantly tell her something, "Look, Heather, let's just say I made some really bad mistakes and I have been running ever since."

Heather stood up and leaned against the fence, "I can understand that. I've known a lot of people that have made some pretty terrible life choices. Friends mainly."

Stephen looked over at Heather, taking another drag, "Would you categorize me as one of those people?"

Heather didn't reply, she shook her head gently from side-to-side.

Stephen took another drag. He breathed in deep and held it for a couple of seconds before exhaling and continuing his sad story, "For years I didn't speak to anyone from my old life. I tried so hard to change everything that made me what I was, but, (Stephen holds up his joint) I could never really quit the stuff."

"Dude, weed is harmless. Don't be so overdramatic. You can't tell me that this stuff ruined your life," Heather replied in a snarking tone.

Stephen shook his head, casting his gaze to the pavement. He cleared his throat before replying, "No...it wasn't just weed. It was all the harder stuff and the people that came along with it."

Heather reached out a hand, gently placing it on Stephen's forearm before she replied, "Oh, I see...sorry for assuming."

Heather took a quick glance at Stephen's bag and asked, "Are you running?"

Stephen patted his bag after Heather withdrew her hand, "What gave that away? I think I'm going to be doing this for a while because I recently found out that the place I was planning to go back to no longer exists," Stephen said as he thumbed in the direction of the funeral home behind them.

He continued, "The names on the board out front... that's my parents."

"You mean? Oh...Oh my God, I am so sorry!" Heather proclaimed, placing a hand over her mouth in shock.

Stephen could feel the tears pooling beneath his eyes. It made him feel somewhat better that he was feeling something towards their death. It made him feel like he was human and that was a relief because he thought that he had forgotten how to have emotions. He was trying his best to hide the tears, but one broke free and made its way down his cheek.

Heather broke away from the fence and threw her arms around him.

"It's ok," Heather whispered consolingly to him, then continued to say, "I can't imagine what you are going through. Hell, I barely know you, but I can tell that you are a good guy."

The hug was simple but amazing to Stephen. It had been a very long time since he felt someone that he didn't know care about him. He wasn't sure if it was the weed that was making her do it, but he wasn't going to complain either. The sentiment made his stone-cold demeanor weaken and the flood gates opened. Stephen was now uncontrollably sobbing on Heather's shoulder.

"It's ok...just let it out. And, listen, I don't normally do this. Shit, I've never done this, but I get off work at midnight; If you're still not running at that time, I would like to get you a bite to eat and talk some more," Heather said as she gently rubbed Stephen's back.

Inside the shop, the bell for the front door rang.

"Fuck! Just wait here for a second, I will be right back," Heather said.

Heather shot through the back door into the store.

The whole ordeal of opening up to Heather made Stephen feel even worse about his predicament. Again he troubled someone with his problems and then was offered another handout for doing nothing. Stephen reached into his bags and pulled out the envelope with his cash and cards. He removed the gift cards, slipping them into his back pocket and pulled a pen out his bag.

"Geez, that guy was a jerk. He kept trying to get me to give him a pack of smokes for cheap," Heather fumed as she stepped back out to the landing, only to find it empty.

"Stephen?!" she called out.

He was nowhere to be found.

Laying on the landing where they both had embraced was a wrinkled-up envelope that had 'Merry Christmas' written in sloppy handwriting. Heather looked around hoping to see Stephen maybe leaning on the other side of the fence or sitting elsewhere, but he was certainly gone. Returning to the envelope, she noticed something written on the back in a different style of handwriting:

I know it isn't much, but I hope this helps you achieve your dreams.

Stephen

Chapter 4.

It was now 5pm, the service for his parents would start in an hour and, pretty soon, people would start to arrive and congregate inside the front lobby.

Stephen stood by a tree line to the back of the parking lot, contemplating his next move. A good portion of him was considering that he should take that seat next to Sarah, try to hide himself as best as he could from everyone and then duck out of there near the end of the viewing. Still, the thought of somebody possibly seeing him was too much to bear. They would certainly place the blame on him; most of the extended family did anyway. The empty chair was starting to seem like the best idea, but being a coward and running was what he always did, and Stephen was trying to wipe the slate clean at least with himself, anyway.

Suddenly, a car pulled into the parking causing Stephen to jump behind the thick pine trees lining the lot. With all the heavy snow weighing down the branches, he disappeared into their foliage with ease.

The black car parked in a middle space a few rows back from the first sets of lots. It idled in the space, and whomever was driving the car shut the lights off. The car stayed there letting the snow pile up on its windows. A thick steam from the exhaust was billowing into the night's sky. Still, nothing...it just sat there idling.

Stephen could barely make it out through the snow on the back window, but the driver inside turned on one of the overhead lights. It was dimly glowing through the snow and stayed on for only a few minutes before shutting off.

The engine finally cut off and out emerged Sarah. A sudden relief came over Stephen and he made his way out of the trees into the parking towards Sarah.

"Sarah!" Stephen called out to her.

She spun around and noticed Stephen walking towards her. She didn't wave to him, which Stephen thought to be rather odd. Instead she seemed perturbed by his presence.

"So, you actually came, huh? I honestly didn't think you would come here," she spat venomously.

Stephen stopped walking toward her, he could sense that something was wrong. Did something happen between the coffee shop and now?

"You don't seem happy to see me. Is something wrong?" Stephen asked.

He took notice to Sarah choking back her words. Her lips were quivering and the air was leaving her body in frosted clouds.

"Steve, I ran into some of your family today," Sarah began, seeming to struggle with what to say.

"I...told them I saw you at the coffee shop. I didn't know why you said you couldn't come and why your family wouldn't want you there."

Folding her arms, Sarah placed one hand up to her mouth and began to nervously chew on her fingernails. After a short period of time, she summoned up some more courage and continued, "I know I told you that what you did didn't matter. Still, I was curious, so I asked them about it. I couldn't believe what they told me."

Stephen didn't reply.

"Oh, now you have nothing to say for yourself?" Sarah asked with a shaky voice.

Now furious, Sarah threw her arms out wide. Her eyes filling with tears, now radiated with a red tone against the winter night.

"I can't believe you! I know you said you had problems, but you were always so innocent. I had no idea that you were capable of something like this," Sarah exclaimed.

In a desperate fit to try and extinguish the growing anger, Stephen opened his arms and took a few steps toward Sarah.

"No!! You stay the hell away from me!" Sarah screamed, taking a few steps backward.

Sarah pointed at Stephen gritting her teeth in anger as she continued, "You know I can smell it on ya! You still couldn't help yourself, could you? Did you do some crack as well...maybe a little heroin just to try and take the edge off?"

"No..." Stephen finally replied, a panging guilt now rapidly growing in his stomach.

Sarah showed him no sympathy as she continued to harass him.

"You know, if it was just the drugs, I don't think I would have a problem looking past it... but... I found out the real reason you left home!" Sarah yelled at him.

Stephen tried to get a word in, but Sarah interrupted, still burning with rage.

"You're a coward Steve!! You stole from them and worst of all. You would beat your mother when she wouldn't give your worthless ass any money!"

That was the painful memory; the reason he struggled with himself to attend the funeral. It was never the drugs, it was what the drugs made him do. He sank so low that one night he demanded his mom to empty out her purse and give him all her credit cards. She resisted of course, and even threatened that she would tell his dad. Resisting his demands put him over the edge. Without even thinking, Stephen hit her repeatedly about the face, breaking her nose and forcing a couple teeth loose. She bled rapidly from the fresh wounds. Worse yet, the constant concussive blows, caused her to choke on her blood.

"You almost killed her that night Steve! You left her to die!" Sarah shouted.

Stephen hung his head in shame. He knew that this moment was going to come, but he had wished that it was with a distant relative. Instead it was Sarah, someone that he had always hoped would someday fall in love with him.

He remained speechless certain that Sarah wasn't done giving him the tongue lashing he knew he deserved.

Through a shuttering voice, Sarah said, "You left her to fucking die! Thank God your dad came home from work early that night."

Sarah's face grew into even more of a grimace as she asked, "How on earth could you have fallen this far Steve?

Stephen took another few steps closer, "Sarah, please, you have to listen, I'm not like that anymore."

Sarah pointed at Stephen once more as she took a few paces closer toward the funeral home.

"I don't have to do anything, Steve. You better get out of here before anyone else shows up. I know if your cousin John sees you, he is certain to try and kill you. Just consider that my last favor."

Stephen couldn't say a word. He stood there speechless with his hands open at his sides. His rebuttal was there, but he knew it wouldn't matter.

"Goodbye, Steve," Sarah said firmly.

With that Sarah turned and made her way into the funeral home, her fiery red hair lighting up the night in its path. Just like before, she didn't look back at him. For the second time in one day he watched what was the closet thing to the love of his life walk away. Except this time, he knew he would never see her again.

Taking Sarah's advice, Stephen decided to leave before anyone else came.

Once again, he was fleeing from the people that were supposed to love him. His crutch had once more become his ultimate demise.

All these years he had run, but the real problem stayed with him the whole time. He never could give up the drugs, but it was the only thing that seemed to silence the nightmares inside. Yes, he left his mother to die; the memory of the look on her face as he fled will haunt him for the rest of his life. She was dying; and she knew it, her eyes were so wide with disbelief. He remembered taking that final look back, seeing that desperate look on her face. He was the only thing that could have saved her at that moment; her killer, her son.

Having nowhere else to go, Stephen remembered a spot in the woods that he liked to frequent when he was younger. It was an old hiking trail that followed along some farming land deep in the woods to a rope swing. He went there a lot to let off some steam between the fights he had with his folks before that happened.

The trail was comprised mainly of a red clay-like dirt, but tonight a thick coating of snow was covering its entirety. An old colonial style fence ran the length of the trail and was the only marker as to where it began.

The walk would be hard, but Stephen didn't care. He pretty much planned on this happening; he knew that his old secrets would come out.

With every step he recalled his qualms, and every resolution led back to his mother's face. He thought of turning back and facing everyone, just to see them one last time. But, he knew those bodies laying in the caskets would not look familiar to him anymore. He had a promise that he had to keep; a promise he made to himself a long time ago.

Each step was heavier than the last; and he knew the end was coming soon.

He finally made it to the old rope swing. It was miles back on the trail and a perfect spot to just be alone. He would spend hours here sometimes, just harnessed in the swing, swaying for hours thinking about life. He thought about his future most often; what would he be when he grew up turned into what could I be if I got cleaned up. It's sad how things can swerve so sharply from childhood to adulthood.

"I'm so sorry," Stephen said to the snow-covered night.

Stephen grabbed the swing and flipped the rope around the tree's branch several times. He climbed onto one of the roots protruding from the ground.

He recalled for a brief moment that he used to sit on this one when he didn't feel like swinging.

As he tied a make-shift noose with the rope he recalled the pact he made with himself back in those days. He had a plan in case things got too low or he couldn't clean himself up. He was living in his worst-case scenario and he knew that it was time to stop running.

Snow landed upon his cheeks, quickly melting as the last frost riddled breaths of air left his nose. The cheery tones of holiday lights from the town beyond slowly grew fainter, until they flickered into pure darkness.

There he hung, finally finding respite.

###
About the Author

Growing up in York, Pennsylvania, Matthew Wildasin became inspired to pursue a career in writing. With his love for horror and the supernatural, Matthew has crafted tales in the vain of Stephen King and H.P. Lovecraft. He resides in a riverside home with his lovely wife and energetic Jack Russel, Cheat.

If you enjoyed this compilation of tales, please also check out this title also available on Smashwords:

The Demon in the Glass

You can also catch me on my weekly podcast, Grindcast! We talk all about video games!

http://www.grindcast.libsyn.com

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