The town awoke to the entire police station being off limits, and I awoke to the sounds of Debra and her wall penetrating voice being pissed off about it.
“Don’t lie to me, Nix, god damnit.” I poked my head out of the window. Police tape and bright orange cones barricaded the station. Turns out Debra wasn’t the only one pissed off. A crowd of people gathered around the station, all hollering along with their brave leader. I rolled my eyes and flopped back onto my bed, groaning.
I scratched at my arm. My fingernail dug into something sticky. I flinched. The ooze. I had forgotten. I steeled myself to look down. My skin was still red and irritated by all my efforts at getting it off. Sponges, brushes, three different soaps. I even tried a knife. And to make matters worse, the ooze had spread. Last night it was about the size of a quarter. Today, it was the size of a dinner roll. Thankfully, it was thin. I pulled on a sweater, keeping the sleeves down, and got ready for the day.
“Where were you last night?” my dad asked as I walked down the stairs.
“Wes–”
“Where were you, Caleb?” my dad asked again, ignoring my mom. I sighed. Lying doesn’t do much good in Red Pine, where verifying an alibi takes, at most, a stroll down the street. Besides, Beth saw me. At least, I think she did. If she’s even still alive. I sighed.
“I was at the Hub.” My dad raised an eyebrow. An admission of guilt. Out past dark. “I just wanted to work off some steam. Besides, the Hub is at least as safe as here, unless somehow those things got a keycard.” My mom felt the tension rising in the air.
“Wes, he’s 18,” she said. Dad scoffed.
“Oh, he’s 18,” he mocked, his voice dripping with sarcasm. Anger bubbled inside me. I wanted to tell him to fuck himself.
“You’re right, dad. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have gone out last night. I’m just… I’m fucking scared.” That took him by surprise. Direct honesty to cover a lie.
“Me too,” my mom said. She put a hand on my shoulder. “We all are,” she said, looking at my dad. I wasn’t sure if that was more of a statement or a demand. I moved towards the door.
“I want you home before dark,” my dad said as I closed the door. Lying doesn’t do much good in Red Pine unless you’re good at it. And I have to be. People need to know the truth.
My eyes turned towards the group of people at the police station. I scanned the crowd for Beth. No luck. I scratched at my arm as I approached the station. The six massive pillars were in plain view, placed around the station in what appeared to me to be a near perfect circle. Tonight, the creatures would come back and light one of these on fire. Well, they would have if anything about their behavior was still predictable.
I stared at the black goo slathered on each pillar. The stomach bile of the creatures. The skin of the Ravisher. And the same thing now creeping up my arm. When the creatures light it tonight, it will burn nonstop for the entire week. It won’t even make any smoke. I wondered if the same thing would happen to me if I lit myself on fire.
“But why would they target you?”
“I. Don’t. Know. You can ask me all you want. The answer doesn’t change,” Nix said. “None of us knows any better than you do. All we can do is stick together and ride these next few weeks out. I promise that Deputy Yang and I will do everything in our power to protect every one of you.”
“Except Jackson!” someone in the crowd yelled. That one really got the crowd going. A few people put hands on Tom, who was lingering at the back of the crowd. He looked like he could barely stand.
“Okay!” Nix had raised her voice a little more than she needed to. The stress was getting to her.
“Yes. I failed. I failed Jackson. And Ethan. And Amy. And Tom.” She paused for a moment and locked eyes with Tom, whose swollen eyes threatened to spill at any moment. “Every single child taken from us while I’ve been in charge has been a failure,” she said, turning to address the crowd.
“My failure. Here in Red Pine, to serve and protect means something different. That’s why I keep them on the wall in there,” she said, pointing behind her. “To remind me I have a job to do. To remind me I need to work every day to figure this thing out. It’s my job to get these creatures out of town. It’s my job to figure out how to get us out of here. And I’ve failed. I’ve failed all of you.”
The crowd had gone silent.
“If you want me to quit, I’ll quit. I’m happy to give someone else a chance. I only want what’s best for everyone. I want to get out of here just as much as you all do. But not now. Now, we have to stand together and get through this month. Come November 1st, if you all want it, I’ll leave my badge on the desk and give someone else a chance. But for now, we have to stay together.”
Debra stood with her arms crossed. She was unimpressed, but she had lost the crowd. Ricky, who had been standing beside Nix, stepped forward.
“Alright everyone, can we please clear the area? We don’t want anyone getting too close to the candles for now. We’re working to get a temporary office set up in the library. We’re hoping to be open by tomorrow morning. If anyone has any information about unusual activity, we’d ask you to come and file a formal report with us. And of course, if anyone has a complaint to file about Nix, me, or the department, we would welcome that as well. Let’s just go home, go to work, go to the diner, and please get home before dark tonight. Curfew will be in place. Thanks, everyone.”
Ricky and Nix disappeared into the Sheriff’s office. Debra scoffed and rolled her eyes, her arms still crossed.
The crowd slowly dissolved. I lingered longer than others, fixated by the ooze on the candles. It didn’t take long to regret it. Olivia, Beth’s best friend since they were four, caught my gaze. I winced. I hadn’t noticed her. I knew the conversation that was coming. I would have rather tried to fistfight a bear. She smiled at me with a beaming, toothy smile, her colorful braces glinting in the sun. Most people smile to be polite, but not her. I think she was actually happy to see me.
“Hi Caleb!” Her boundless exuberance felt unnatural in this place.
“Hey, Liv, didn’t see you there.”
“Oh, that’s okay. Not many can,” she said with a grin. If Olivia cracked the five-foot mark, it was by an inch. I smiled politely at her joke.
“I’d love to chat, but I have to get off to my shift at the Hub. I think I’m already late.”
“No problem,” she said, smiling. “I’ll walk with you.”
Great.
“Great!” I said. About the last thing I wanted was to have this conversation as I walked past the very last place I had seen her.
“How are you doing, Caleb? Are you holding up okay? People seem pretty upset right now.” Once again, I think she was genuinely asking. I think if I said no, I’m not okay, my best friend died last year and I still can’t get over it, that I don’t know how to process my best friend’s brother’s brains being blown out at the city park, that I might have been the last person to see Beth alive and I she might have been possessed, and now I have the Ravisher’s stink stitched into my skin and I can’t get it off, I think she would actually try to help. She’d get me a coffee or a scone or sit down and talk to me about it as long as I wanted. It was insufferable.
“I think I’m alright. As much as you can be. Well, as much as I can be.” She smiled at the compliment.
“I’m so glad its not summer anymore, aren’t you? I just love it when the air shifts. I can smell it when autumn comes. Can you?” She didn’t wait for an answer. “To me it marks the beginning of when I can look forward to the holidays. Thanksgiving, Christmas. There’s no more magical time than Christmas. I just love it.”
“Me too.” I smiled. How could she do that? It’s like this month doesn’t even exist to her. Like she can just ignore that in just a few weeks, a horrible, stinking, hulking mass of malevolent black ooze will waltz into town and kill an innocent child, and there’s nothing at all we can do about it.
We approached the front side of the Hub. I had chosen a route that would lead me towards the door from the opposite side of where I last saw Beth. If I had come from the other side, I knew I wouldn’t be able to resist looking, and looking at that spot might be the only thing I wanted to do less than have this conversation with Olivia. I slowed my walk as I approached the door. Maybe she wouldn’t ask after all.
“Well, this is me,” I said as I pulled out my badge.
“Hey, before you go.”
Fuck.
“Have you heard from Beth today, by chance? I can’t get a hold of her.” I sighed. I knew I couldn’t tell the truth. Hell, I don’t know if I even understood the truth myself. I didn’t know where she was. I only knew I was probably the last person to see her. A frown creased my cheeks. Olivia was a lot of things. But she deserved better than what I was about to do.
“I haven’t. You’ve checked the farm? Her house?” Liv nodded.
“I did. Both. Mr. and Mrs. Walker said she didn’t show up today, and nobody answered at her house. I think her family was already out for the day, though.”
“I’m sure she’ll turn up. She’s probably–”
“Hey guys,” a voice called from behind me. Olivia’s face lit up. I turned. Beth, being dragged along by her enthusiastic dog, Jabba, a huge mastiff now barrelling towards us. Within a moment, Jabba had Olivia on the ground and was assaulting her with licks, wrinkles, and drool. She giggled while Beth approached, waving.
“Come on Jabba, let her up,” Beth said, chuckling as she pulled on his collar. “What are you guys up to?”
“I was…” I pointed behind me, too shocked to form a sentence.
“Actually, I was just looking for you,” Olivia said. “Couldn’t get a hold of you.” My right forearm burned from a sharp, sudden pain, as though something had bit me. The ooze. I winced and let out a cry, doubling over.
What the fuck was that?
“You okay?” Beth asked, taking a step forward. As soon as she did, the pain got worse. Like the ooze was trying to rip itself off me. I winced again.
“Yeah, I’m fine, I just gotta…” I said, vaguely motioning towards the front doors of the Hub. I couldn’t think straight. I fumbled for my badge and snapped it against the reader, disappearing behind the doors. I made the 20 steps into the ground floor bathroom before collapsing behind a stall. The pain had subsided, but left me with a lingering sense of soreness. And worry.
What just happened to me? I thought, trying to resist rubbing my arm.
It was as if the ooze wanted her. I stared at the black goo stitched into my skin. The edges of the blob had formed into small claw like shapes that pulled at my skin. A bead of sweat followed the goosebumps down the back of my neck. For a moment, my mind seized me with an urge to panic. To rip this thing off my arm, no matter the cost.
I imagined tearing at it so vigorously with my fingers that the skin underneath came with it, peeling away from my hot, sticky blood like strings of glue. I imagined grabbing the emergency ax and slamming it down just past my elbow, one violent swing after another, each one spraying blood against the wall and against my face until the bone finally gives in a heavy snap and the ax finishes its way through my flesh.
My arm burned again. The ooze’s claws dug deeper into my skin. It’s as if the ooze was not only alive, but that I made it angry.
Like it heard my thoughts.
My heart jumped at the idea.
Pull yourself together. Of course this thing can’t hear me.
I wasn’t sure if I believed that or if I was trying to convince myself I did.
I resolved myself to my work, doing my best to ignore the ooze. Thankfully, it wasn’t too hard. The ooze gifted me a few hours of mercy. The hours passed, and I made my way home, getting home before dark. I couldn’t afford to arouse the attention of my dad again. Another hour passed, and darkness spilled over the town.
I cracked my window open to let in a breeze while I eyed the evening’s festivities, hopefully from a more reasonable distance this time. The town was silent. The town was always silent this time of year. When the dark comes for Red Pine, it eats our voices first. Our steps. Our joy. No parties, no evening meal at the diner. Everyone stays alone inside their own houses and hopes to see their neighbor again in the morning.
Just another thing that the Ravisher takes from us. The ooze dug hard into my skin.
Didn’t like that one, huh? I thought to it as I rolled up my sleeve to look. To my displeasure, it was vibrating in place.
Thump-thump.
It knew when the creatures were coming. Within minutes, they had arrived, piling into view from behind the hill in the park. They marched two by two straight towards the prison. At the back, a single creature bore a torch in hand. Their march was sloppy, no sense of timing or rhythm or uniformity to be found. I always found that part unsettling. For decades, these things showed an ability to be so orderly, so timely, so mired in the function of their own tradition that we could know the exact day a child would stop hearing the heartbeats. We knew exactly when they would show up for the first time every year, and exactly when they leave, and exactly what they would do in between.
Somehow, it seemed wrong for all that to be true and still march in such a chaotic, random manner. These things were organized, timely, methodical. They tried to put on some kind of march formation, but could never quite figure it out.
It’s as though they were mocking us.
But at least tonight it appeared everything would go normally, for once.
The ooze on my arm clamped down into my skin. I yelped in pain. It was vibrating again, harder than before. This time, it wasn’t trying to escape my skin. It was trying to bury itself deeper.
“You okay up there?” My mom asked, yelling at me from the bottom of the stairs.
“Fine, mom, thanks. Stubbed my toe.” I looked back down at my arm. In my brief distraction, the blob had moved. Either I was losing my mind, or the whole thing had crawled up at least a few inches towards the edge of my elbow.
Thump-thump.
The line of creatures had made it past the library and formed themselves onto main street. Typically, people would witness this part from far away. The creatures would march to the edge of town, their torchbearer would light itself on fire and walk into a candle, and we’d listen as the thing screamed for a few minutes until it was finally dead. Tonight, however, we’d get a front-row seat. Assuming they still even go towards the candle.
Soon, the creatures were walking right past my house. I was close enough I could see their eyes. Their bulging red eyes and their blank expressions stared down the street, unaware, or uncaring, that I watched them from my window. They walked past my house one by one, focused on their goal, until finally, only the torchbearer remained. The creature held its flaming stick with both hands, out in front of its body. The flame flickered in the wind, but gave off no smoke. He was directly beside my window, twenty feet below in the middle of the street, when he stopped without warning, and turned its head.
Thump-thump.
It looked right at me. Beady, red, angry eyes, staring right into my window. Right into my eyes. The ooze on my arm seared white hot burning, aching pain into my arm. I bit my lip to stay quiet, unwilling to break my attention away from the torchbearer. The pain moved up my arm. I could feel the ooze making it its way up my arm, digging, clawing, and sliding on my skin. It moved past my shoulder. Tears welled in my eyes. It reached my neck. I clamped my hands onto the side of my neck that the ooze now made its way up. I yanked on it as hard as I could. The sticky substance clung to my fingers. It was no use.
The creature below smiled, as though it knew what was happening to me.
Soon the ooze had dragged itself onto my cheek. Goosebumps peppered my neck in the way they do when a roach falls out of a tree onto your neck. It touched the bottom of my ear.
No. No, no, no.
I yanked my fingers free a moment before the first bit of warm ooze dribbled into my ear.
Please, God, no.
It was no use. One agonizing inch at a time, this black, slimy ooze wormed its way deeper and deeper into my ear. It wasn’t painful anymore. But it was the most violated I had ever felt in my life. A loud slurp echoed in my ear as the last bit found its way inside me and disappeared. The creature below finally tore its gaze away from me.
The creature finished its disgusting ritual, and the candle ignited. The first one has been lit. Five more to go.
I felt myself smile at the thought. But I didn’t want to.