“Can you check the closet one more time?” my little brother Mason asked as he shuffled underneath his covers. I rolled my eyes but continued towards his closet with a plastic baseball bat over my shoulder. I did a flourish with my “weapon” and quickly opened the door, aiming the tip of the bat inside. “See? Nothing per usual.” I assured him. He whimpered a bit. I could check every corner of his room a hundred times, but he’d never be convinced. “Alright. I checked under the bed, the desk, in the closet, and inside the toy box. It’s lights out, man.” I said as I set the bat at his bedside.
Mason let out a relieved sigh and finally nestled into his bed. I turned to exit his room, flipping the lights on my way out, and turned around one more time to make sure he was okay. “Good night, loser.” I called out to him, and he chuckled, “Good night, Will.” Yawning all the way through, I went around our little house to make sure everything was locked up. Our dad is a security guard at the nearby plant, and he works a lot of nights, so it’s up to me to take care of everything while he is away.
Mom died while giving birth to Mason. I was only eight, but I remember my mom being sick for a long time. My dad wasn’t doing great after that, but he eventually pulled himself together. It has been six years of just us boys, but we do our best. My dad works hard to keep a roof over our heads and food on the table, so taking care of my little brother while he’s away is the least I can do. Mason is a great kid. Sure, he can get on my nerves sometimes, but I’d do anything for him. I’d fight off all the monsters with that old plastic bat to keep a smile on his face.
After my walkthrough, I finally sank into my bed. I thought about all the little things that happened that day; Dad making breakfast sandwiches for us in the morning, my friends talking about girls in their class, Mason showing me pictures he had drawn of his dreams. The thoughts swirled in my head, and a memory of my mom humming a gentle tune lulled me to sleep. I awoke in the middle of the night to find small hands clinging to my shirt. No matter how many monster checks I do, Mason will sometimes sneak into my bed. I was too tired to shoo him away. It wouldn’t do any good anyway, so I let him be.
Before I knew it, the alarm on my phone was blaring in my room. I struggled to wake up, but I had a job to do. I looked at my bed to find it empty. Mason must’ve gone back to his room. I lifted myself up, got ready, and stepped over to his room to find it empty. “Mason?” I called out. It was quiet, albeit the light snoring coming from my dad’s room. I walked towards the kitchen to find Mason seated at the dining table scribbling on some paper. I ruffled his mess of curly brown hair, “What’s up, Picasso?” His focus was unwavered as he continued to draw.
I glanced at what he was so intently working on. The white paper was filled with green zig-zags depicting grass, a bright yellow sun on the corner of the sheet, four stick figures with large round heads, appearing to be holding hands, and a fifth stick figure in the sky next to what looked like clouds. “Who’s that?” I asked as I gathered our things for school. I heard his finger tapping on his artwork; “This is dad, you, my friend, his mom and me!” he exclaimed. “Oh? Trying to set up dad with someone? “ I teased. He laughed, “Yeah, she said she really likes our dad.” I handed him his backpack. “Sounds like a good idea; the old man hasn’t seen anyone in ages.” We both walked towards the front door, “Maybe a new little brother wouldn’t be too bad.” I said as I tousled his hair again.
Our school packs all the grades into one building, so Mason and I take the same bus. I greeted my friends as I sat down with my brother. Mason just stared out the window as we made our way to school. I spent a portion of the day thinking about which friend Mason was referring to. As far as I knew, he usually kept to himself all day. I eventually shrugged it off. I didn’t think Mason would think about having a mom, but I suppose it can be weird seeing the other kids with theirs. It’s just been us three for so long and things have been completely fine.
The long day finally came to an end. I met Mason on the school bus, and we talked about what to eat for dinner. When we got home, my dad’s car was already gone. I was hoping we’d catch him for a minute, but Mason didn’t seem to mind. As soon as we got inside the house, Mason rushed to his room. I was ahead in my schoolwork, so I decided to whip up dinner. When I reached into our freezer to grab a box of dinosaur-shaped chicken nuggets, I heard whispering coming from down the hall.
“Yeah, I heard what he said this morning… but-“ Mason’s voice trailed off. “But your mom said no.” There was a bit of unease in his voice as he continued to whisper, “Don’t be mad, I just don’t want anyone to get in trouble.” I called out to him, “You good, dude?” I could hear him jump onto his feet and rush towards me. He immediately seated himself at the dining room table and began with crayons and paper. I wasn’t sure what to think.
After setting some chicken nuggets into the oven I asked, “So who were you talking to in there?” My question was met with silence. “Hey, man, is everything alright?” I looked over and Mason was furiously scribbling onto his paper. I walked over and set my gaze to what he was so focused on. His paper had a house made of a simple square and triangle, his hand was shading the whole sheet with a dark red crayon. I placed my hand on his shoulder, “Easy, killer, you’re gonna tear a whole in your paper.”
Mason’s hand finally stopped, and he looked up at me. Maybe it was the lighting, but I swear his eyes were completely black for a split second. “It’s our house,” he said wistfully. I’m not sure why I suddenly felt so cold. “Oh yeah? “What’s with all the red stuff?” I asked. “A fire…” he whispered. Mason’s answer sent a chill down my spine, and at that moment, I suddenly caught a whiff of smoke. I turned towards the kitchen to see light wisps of gray seeping out of the oven. I snapped back to reality and rushed over. Our dinner had turned into burnt crisps.
“Shit.” I muttered under my breath. I swear I had just placed the food into the oven. I looked at the clock on the microwave to see that thirty minutes had passed. My mind began to whirl. It didn’t make any sense. I looked up towards the dining table to find it empty. “Mason?” I called out into the hall, and my little brother emerged from his room. He had a confused expression, “What happened?” Is dinner ready yet? “ My head began to ache, and I pinched the bridge of my nose. After a moment, I composed myself, “Yeah, I messed up. How about some PB&J instead? “
Mason acted normally the rest of the night. He ate his dinner, watched some TV, and played with some toys. I was left in a daze. I still had goosebumps from what happened earlier. I kept looking at my brother, seeing if I could catch a glimpse of something altering in him. For a moment, I felt like I was going crazy, but I was so sure I had seen his eyes change. Hours soon passed, and it was getting late. I was finally getting to the point of shrugging off what happened when Mason asked me to check for monsters in his room.
I lifted the trusty plastic bat and as I started to do my usual check, I asked, “You know, you always talk about these monsters. Where do you think they come from? “ He was quiet but kept his gaze on me as I continued my rounds in his room. His little voice pierced the silence, “They crawl out when I’m sleeping.” He caused me to pause, and my attention shifted to him. “I assumed they were people, but they look so terrifying that they must be monsters.” Mason’s face began to twist in terror. They all come out of the closet and from under my bed. They say they want to take me, they want me to be like them.
Small streams of tears began to flow down Mason’s cheeks. I dropped the bat and rushed to his side. It’s okay. I won’t let anything bad happen to you. I tried to console him. His voice was filled with fear; “Sometimes, late at night, when you’re asleep, they get so close. Their hands are so cold it hurts my skin. “ I couldn’t stand seeing him like that, so I pulled him in for a hug. He continued, “I told dad. I told him I didn’t want to sleep anymore. Then he told me a story about the lady. “Dad told me that the lady would come to protect me and you.”
Memories began to flood my mind, and I asked, “Does the lady have long brown hair and light blue eyes?” Mason sniffled and nodded his head. He got out of my hug and looked up at me and started to hum a song. Not just any song, it was the one Mom used to hum to me. A lump formed in my throat and my chest started to ache. “Did Dad tell you about that song too?” He wiped his face and shook his head no. “The lady comes and hums that to me to help me go back to sleep.” My mind went blank and I felt a rush of cold run through me. I snapped, “That’s enough. Dad’s here. I’m here. We’re enough to protect you. We don’t need anyone else. Just us. “
Creeeeeeeeeeeeek
I turned to see the closet door open. I looked back at Mason, his eyes wide and mouth agape. Before I could ask him what was wrong, he whispered, as if not wanting to alert an animal, “I see them everywhere. No one else can see them, but they are really clear in my sleep.” He pulled the blanket over his head and said, “My friend didn’t like you saying that.” I forcefully swallowed the lump in my throat and said, “You’ve been talking about your friend, is he…is he here right now? “ A voice came up next to my ear, not in front of me where Mason was, but it was his voice that said, “Good night.”
I couldn’t get any more from Mason, so I let him be. I set the bat at his bedside and told him good night as I turned out the light. I retired to my bedroom, sunk into my bed, and just stared up at the ceiling. My thoughts from what Mason said kept me up a bit that night. I kept my door open just to make sure I could hear him. Nothing else happened and then my alarm blared. Morning came before I knew it. The days that followed were uneventful and normal, but Mason seemed quieter than usual. I tried to pull him out of… whatever he was going through, but it seemed like he was keeping me at arms length. Eventually, he stopped asking me to check for monsters.
Dark bags began to form under his eyes. He seemed lifeless. One night, as we were finishing up some show on TV, I finally confronted him about it: “Mason, you haven’t been yourself lately.” What’s going on? It seemed that he was at a breaking point and began sobbing, “My friend, he got really angry at what you said the other night!” He was shaking. “He’s so mad.” He sent the lady away and told me that if he can’t get what he wants, then he’ll just steal it! “ “What does he want?” I asked. Mason wiped his eyes and said, “He wants our family. He said he wanted what I took from him. But it’s okay. If I stay awake, he can’t get me. If I stay awake, he can’t steal my face.”
Fear and anger began to clash inside of me, but one stood victorious. “Go to sleep. I don’t want to hear any more of these fucking stories. “ I snapped. Mason, of course, looked heartbroken, but before he could utter another word, I shouted, “GO TO SLEEP!” ENOUGH! “ I stormed out of his room and slammed the door behind me. Once I got through the threshold to my room, I pushed my door to hear another smack from it closing. Mason cried and cried until he finally went quiet. I was sure that he was asleep.
It’s strange how quickly sleep can take you when you fully surrender yourself. I wanted to forget the day had happened and for tomorrow to bring everything back to normal. I closed my eyes and pushed everything to the back of my mind. At some point during the night, I awoke to the light pitter-pattering of feet. My bed slumped to one side and I felt a small body curl up next to mine. The familiar small hands hugged me tightly. I didn’t shoo him away; I wrapped an arm around him. I was glad he could forgive me for snapping at him earlier.
I laid my hand on his head, but something was wrong. My hand brushed against a mass of coarse, brittle hair. The small hands quickly snatched my wrists, and my skin ached from how cold these hands were. I opened my mouth to let out a yelp of pain, but from outside of my room, through the hallway, I could hear Mason screaming at the top of his lungs. My heart sank. It was too dark to see anything, but whatever this was beside me was not Mason. I tried to lift myself off the bed, but the hands gripped tighter, pulling me back.
It felt as though my skin was freezing off my bones. Whatever was holding onto me wasn’t letting go, so I raised my right leg and smashed into it. The impact was followed by a sickening crack that made my stomach turn. I continued to stomp on it, all the while Mason’s screams went on and on. I fell backwards onto my ass, the grip of this thing having finally released. I was hoping this was all just some kind of nightmare, but the burn on my wrist was way too real and too painful to be just a dream.
I stumbled out of my room. I’d never heard those screams come out of Mason, and they were getting louder and louder. But his scream wasn’t the only thing echoing through the hallway. A myriad of anguished groans filled my ears and when I finally got to Mason’s room, I flung the door open to see it filled with what I can only describe as the souls of the damned. The men, women, and children, all barely distinguishable, piled atop each other into a writhing mass of rotten meat, their long skinless fingers stretching towards my little brother.
The air was filled with a sickly sweet smell of decay. I took a step inside the room, and a few of them turned their attention towards me. Before I could react, two of them, what appeared to be a man whose empty eye sockets oozed a black ichor and a young girl with a crooked neck, grabbed hold of me. Their hands touching the exposed skin of my arms caused me to shout in agony. They began to pull me down. My knees gave out and a loud squish could be heard. Another body, then another, pulled me further down.
“WILL!”
That voice, that faint voice that called to me for years. The voice that belonged to the one person that depended on me to fight the monsters away. I lifted myself up, the weight of innumerable putrid bodies continuing to push me down. I let out a cry, one filled with fear and determination, and the thought of my brother gave me the strength to pull myself up towards the surface. I crawled forward towards Mason’s bed. I could feel the skin in the palms of my hands sizzle as I used the other poor souls as leverage.
My aching hands finally felt the familiar cushion of Mason’s bed. I used every ounce of strength to lift myself onto the bed, and I sat atop the bed alongside Mason. He sat in a fetal position, clutching the plastic bat to his chest. I rested a hand on his back to assure him that everything was going to be okay, even though I wasn’t sure what I could possibly do. I pulled the bat away from him and propped it over my shoulder and shouted at what now looked like an endless sea of putrid flesh. “Get the hell out! Leave My Brother Alone!”
“WILL!!”
I heard the voice ringing in my ears, and I readied myself to defend Mason. A body began to pull itself onto the bed now, but my resolve quickly wavered. Looking up at me with eyes that I know all too well were Mason’s. Except it wasn’t. This Mason had long wild hair. His eyes were set inside a face that was nothing but exposed meat. Its mouth was open to show rows of yellow rotted teeth and it reached up towards me. I heard Mason’s voice call from behind me, “He wants me, Will. He wants to take my body and live my life. He wants our family!”
I didn’t believe him at first, but I definitely believe him now. I gripped tight onto the bat and, with all my might, I cracked the bat at the side of the monster’s head. Again and again until… I woke up. The light of the morning sun cracked through my window. I looked around and sure enough, I was in my room, and yet it all felt so surreal. My whole body was aching. I looked down at my arms to see faint red marks on them. I couldn’t help but think it was all really just a dream. I groggily opened my door to hear the sound of sizzling meat coming from the kitchen. The once pleasant smell made me want to vomit.
I limped to the dining room table and heard a comforting, “Mornin” from my dad. He was preparing some breakfast sandwiches for us. I slumped into a chair and rested my head on the table. “Uh, you alright there, champ?” he asked as he set a plate of food in front of me. I groaned and pushed the plate aside, “Yeah, just a really bad dream.” He sat beside me and put his hand on my shoulder. “Yeah, I used to have ‘em all the time.” I looked at him and asked, “What kind of dreams?” He took a deep breath and told me about nightmares he had right after mom died. She was reaching out towards him in the dark.
“Your brother was in them too..” Dad said under his breath. I was hit with a wave of confusion, “You mean Mason?” A solemn expression was plastered on dad’s face. “No…you see Mason was a twin. Meaning you had another brother, but he didn’t make it.” I thought I was going to lose it right then and there before I could say anything Mason emerged from his room. He sat down at the table and without a word scarfed down the food in front of him. “Hey, little man, long time no see.” Dad said as he tousled Mason’s head. Mason laughed and looked at me with a beaming smile and for a moment, just for a brief second I swear I saw his eyes turn black.