Crow, that’s what we call him , our daughter’s best friend, though not a very conventional one.
But in order to understand what’s going on now, we have to go back to the beginning, when we were first introduced to the albatross that hangs around our family’s neck. The half pound of cloth and plastic that has made me see things, and know things, that I’d give anything to forget.
“Two grilled cheese and one fried jam sandwich because my partner is a 5 year old. “ Kurtis says.
I’d say he has a military look about him, but it’d be redundant, he’s been in the service for about 10 years now, currently on extended leave after taking a bit of shrapnel to the eye. While I hate to see him in pain, it’s been nice having him around.
We met at a boxing gym, and try as I might I never did manage to improve his ring skills, Kurt doesn’t have a knack for making combat a game, probably a good thing considering his career.
You can call me Dan, very part time MMA coach, nearly full time bouncer. Don’t think roadhouse, I’m good at both of my gigs, but you wouldn’t guess it looking at me.
And between the love of my life and myself, sitting on our couch, eating her grilled cheese, is our daughter, Nada.
She’s eleven, and already on track to a more rewarding career than yours truly. Generic thing for a parent to say, but the kid is smart as hell.
“What would that make you? “ I say with a smirk.
“A nonce. “ Nada says in a matter of fact tone.
I almost choke on my food.
“And where did you learn that word? “ I ask.
“Rik Mayall shows. “ She says, proudly.
I subtly glare at Kurt.
“And who has been letting you watch Rik Mayall shows? “ I prod.
“It was just The Young Ones, it wasn’t Game of Thrones Dan. “ Kurt says, embarrassed.
“I know, and Nada knows we don’t use ‘Rik Mayall words’ in public, right? “ I reply.
Nada, being eleven going on forty rolls her eyes, “ Yes, dad. “.
Kurt looks pleadingly at me.
“Yes you can watch while we eat. “ I say.
But before Kurt can put on another of a seemingly infinite number of Rik Mayall sitcoms, there is a knock at our door.
I get up, I eat a lot quicker than either Nada or Kurt, and am curious as to who is coming by at 2 in the afternoon on a Saturday.
As you can guess, my line of work requires me to be able to get a good read on someone quickly. The man on my doorstep, not sweating a drop in the stifling Texas heat instantly set me on edge.
His suit is expensive, his shoes even moreso, the guy is in his 50s, and has skin the color of watered down milk. His eyes are deeply pitted, but he wears a salesman’s grin. I see a car outside, no, not a car, either a large sedan or a small limo.
“Hello, Danforth Lighthart? Father of Nada Lighthart? “ The man’s tone is half way between huckster and ceo.
“One of, and who are you? “ my voice is level, I block the doorway.
“Stewart Goodall, founder of Goodall toys. “ The man reaches into his coat as he talks, I tense before I see the roll of cash he produces, he peels off three, hundred dollar bills, “ And this is for your time so far. If you will give me a few more minutes, I can promise much more. “
I’m honestly speechless, the money is real ( another job specific skill.) but God damn, what is this situation?
“Dan, everything okay out there? “ Kurt says from the livingroom.
“Probably? “ I yell back, “ So, Stewart, just so we’re clear, things get much weirder and I’m launching you out of my house face first. “
“Well within your rights, young man. “ Stewart says, walking inside, I notice a small black box in his hand.
Kurt raises his eyebrows toward me, and I wave the cash and shrug.
Stewart sits down in an armchair near the television, the small box sitting on his lap.
“I have a very special offer for all of you.
At Goodall Toys, we have a unique quality control process. One that can only be done by very special boys and girls, and your lovely daughter, just so happens to be one of those lucky children. “ Stewart says.
The old man takes the cover off of the box, and inside is something that I could have expected given the information I had on the man.
It’s a little larger than a softball, a well made, stylized, plush doll. It’s a stubby looking crow, shining black eyes, and round clubbed feet.
Instantly I see Nada’s eyes light up.
“I love him! “ she says, a little surprising, Nada’s never been too fond of stuffed animals.
“I had no doubt you would young lady!
We want you to take care of Mr Crowston. You can do that, can’t you Nada? “ I don’t like the way Stewart directs his offer toward my child.
“Stew, I’m really digging the Willy Wonka thing you have going here. Magical as all get out, but can we get down to brass tacks here.
Sounds like we are doing product testing for this thing, what is the compensation? “ I try to keep things friendly, and fail. Nada looks confused.
“Straight to business, can’t say I’d have gotten where I am today without that.
Fair enough Daniel, in exchange for your family following certain, minor stipulations in regards to Mr Crowston, we will provide you with compensation to the tune of ten thousand dollars per month.
Once yearly we will conduct an interview in regards to how your family has adjusted to this new product.
It’s easy money Daniel. “ Stewart expects a yes, I can tell.
I can’t say that I saw what was coming, but at that moment, I knew something was off, and I wasn’t about to let three hundred dollars let me take a chance with my family.
“Nope, something is wrong here. Sorry Stew, you can keep the three hundred, and take that limo on down the road. “ I stand up offering him the money, and gently motioning to the door.
A cloud passes over the old man’s face.
“Nada, go upstairs please. “ Kurt says, gently. She listens.
The three of us stand there awkwardly for a moment.
“Daniel, Kurtis, you need to understand, your daughter posses traits that we require. If you refuse, the consequences will be dire, and, one adult to another, you will agree to my offer eventually. “ Stewart doesn’t move, I do.
Kurt tries to stop me, the sensible thing to do, but veiled or not, this thin old prick isn’t going to threaten me in my own home.
I make good on my threat, though, not wanting to catch a manslaughter charge I throw the old man out on his ass, as opposed to his face.
It’s 8pm, Nada has been confused as hell, and my dinner is sitting like a hot rock. I keep peering out the window, I don’t know what I’m expecting, but the entire strange encounter has put me on edge.
“Sit down Dan. “ Kurt pleads.
“It’s stupid, I know, but, you can’t tell me that guy wasn’t creepy. “ I sit in an old folding chair as I apologise.
“Do your thing then. “ Kurt says.
Nada goes to bed, then Kurt, gently prodding me to join him. But I’m wired, and spend the hours till 2am trying and failing at avoiding looking out my windows.
Around quarter to three I’m shaking Kurt, and dragging him to our bedroom window, the poor man is still half asleep.
“See! “ I say, heart racing, cold sweat staining my shirt.
Across the street, shadows move in the window, from this distance, we can’t be sure of much, but I can’t shake an uneasy feeling.
Kurt chuckles, then starts to giggle, and within a minute or two is laughing hard enough tears are streaming down his face.
“Dan, I love you, but The Stephensons deciding to have a little risque fun in their livingroom is all that is.
Babe, hear me out. You take mistakes hard, all it was, was a creepy old man, he didn’t hurt anyone, and I’m sure he’s going to be feeling that trip to the pavement for a month.
Guy was flinging around hundreds, no harm no foul. Stop obsessing. “ Kurt’s smile tells me two things, the first is how much he loves me, the second is that I need to get to bed.
Officially there was no statement on what happened at the Stephensons, but small towns let information travel faster than fibre optic cable.
A half dozen police cars are still there at midnight the next day, Kurt and myself sit at our kitchen table, having spent most of the afternoon talking with our friends and neighbours about the grim possibilities.
“It’s a coincidence. “ Kurt says, lacking conviction.
“ Maybe, or maybe this old bastards has some ‘The most dangerous game’ kinds of plans.
Guy was rich enough. “ I Spit, I have anger but no target.
“That’s a little far fetched. For all we know it could have been a gas leak. “ Kurt absent mindedly stirs a cup of coffee.
We both jump as our phones ring in unison, the number blocked.
“Hello? “ I say, for once in my life hoping for a scam call from half way around the world.
“I expected it would be you who picked up. How goes the day Danforth? “ The old man says. The smug threat in his tone steals the color from my face.
“Great Mr. Goodall “ I say, trying to let Kurt know who is calling, “ What can I do for you?”
“Oh, I’m sure you know the answer to that question.
In the coming weeks you will hear all kinds of theories as to what happened to those friends of yours. Trust me when I say, none of them come close to reality.
This is what happens when one of our prototypes is possessed by a child that isn’t, special. Another way of looking at it, is simply, that this was the consequence of your actions. “ Stewart gloats, fear and impotent rage build inside me.
“This is 2023 asshole, you aren’t getting away with something like this. “ I spit, Kurt motions for me to calm down.
“Oh, the case will remain unsolved for as long as I choose it to remain so, and when it is, well Danforth… “ as the old man talks I receive a short video.
I show it to Kurt, and we both simply stare in shock.
We both know where I was when the killings happened, but in stunning high definition someone that looks exactly like me picks the lock on the back door and enters.
“The how isn’t important, but the fact the video exists is.
You and your husband, are not required. Further refusal of our offer will result in us ensuring you are no longer her caregivers.
My offer stands, can I count on your cooperation? “ The old man has steel and power in his voice. He knows this isn’t a negotiation. He could be bluffing, but when there is a house full of dead folks across the street it seems like a bad bet.
We sit in silence, neither Kurt nor myself can think of anything to say, or do.
“I’ll take that as a yes.
I’ll be by tomorrow at 10am sharp. Things will go best if Nada is in an agreeable mood.
Either of you choose to get physical again, and my subordinates will put enough rounds into your house that the foundation will crack. We can find another child, painstaking as the task may be. “ the line goes dead.
Kurt and myself do a good job of pretending we didn’t stay up all night, we explain to a confused daughter that is smart enough to smell bullshit, that Mr. Goodall is our friend and we just had a little argument.
She knows we are dancing around the truth, but again seems extremely excited at the prospect of getting that doll.
We greet the ancient, pale man as if he is a long time friend, sitting him down in our kitchen with Nada.
He grins like a cat and opens the box, sliding the innocuous looking object to Nada.
She gently takes it out of the box, looking enthralled.
“Can I call him Crow? “ she asks Stewart.
His eyes light up, “You most certainly can young Miss.
Mr. Crowston… excuse me, Crow, is going to be your friend for a very long time. “
“What does he do? “ Nada asks, flipping the doll around.
“Given enough time, anything.
But a special toy comes with special responsibilities. We are going to go over all the most important ones today, is that alright Nada? “ the old man is sickly sweet, I have to put effort into unclenching my fists.
“Yes sir. “ Nada says, doing her best to show how serious she is to the strange old man.
“The first, and most important is, you need to keep him with you at all times. He doesn’t have to be in your hand, but he needs to be near you, in a backpack, for example, or sitting on a shelf in the same room. “ Nada nods as the man speaks, “ The second, is to be truthful when we ask you about how he is doing. We need to know how well he is adjusting.
Third, is to know, to truly understand, Crow is your friend, he will never hurt you as long as he is with you. “
Nada’s brow furrows and she agrees.
All of this seems so strange, no scenario I can think of isn’t gross, or dangerous. But what can I do?
“There are a few other, little rules, but those are just boring things the adults will talk about. Why don’t you go show Crow your room? “ Stewart says, Nada grins and, holding the doll by one short wing, runs upstairs.
Stewart looks to Kurt and myself, expression both impartial and judgemental.
“You boys understand the stakes of this endeavor, I trust?
Your lives are going to change, and it is your job to adapt to this. I do not lie when I say Nada is safe, but there are many ways your time with the doll can go. It is your responsibility to ensure the best outcome. “ Stewart is as cryptic as he is demanding
“What is all this? “ Kurt says, I his powerless tone hurts me.
“I’ll tell you, you either won’t understand or deny it until it becomes a problem.
There are many ways to attain success, and Goodall toys has chosen one that is, esoteric, to keep things simple.
In exchange for bits of help, like this, we are guaranteed profit, expansion and the power that comes with those things. “ Stewart’s look dares us to challenge him.
Personally I think it’s a nanny cam or some other equally slimy thing, and I’m already running through how quickly I could find someone in a position to put this guy behind bars. I haven’t the foggiest as to who this would be, but I intend to find out.
The rest of the meeting is actually tense in how dull it is. Direct deposit information, piles of contracts, no blood signatures required, no pens appearing in a puff of smoke.
Kurt and I are left confused, worried and with a child in the exact opposite state.
It started small at first. Small noises, that could be explained, the doll sitting at angles I swear it wasn’t minutes before. But I chalked it up to the underlying sense of fear, and anxiety that is my new constant companion.
Nada took to her new friend immediately, it worried us how she would spend hours talking to the thing, something she hadn’t done with a toy in years, but the threat of that old man, worried us more.
The first night it moved all illusions of this being some kind of mundane pervert with money and power were destroyed.
Nada was telling me about her day off with Crow, and how she showed him how to make YouTube videos. I said, “ And how did he like that? “, and before she could reply, the thing turned toward me, giving a very subtle thumbs up.
I could feel the color drain from my face, every instinct in me told me to grab my daughter, call my husband and run.
But then I think of the Stephensons.
As the days go by, things like this become more common, slight nods, or winks from those plastic eyes, looking over to see the thing sitting on the arm of the couch. Nada is more and more enamored with the toy, Kurt and myself are losing weight and sleep, while trying to keep up the façade of this being a Disney movie instead of a lovecraft novel.
Then came the night I truly saw, Crow.
It was late, and I was walking to the bathroom for obvious reasons. Before I get to the door, I feel someone behind me.
“I’m going to be 2 seconds Kurt. “ I mumble, half asleep.
I feel a hand on my shoulder, the fist thing I notice is the furnace like heat, nearly painful. I look over, and I see mottled black feathers, yellow clawed nails and thick, multi jointed fingers.
I turn, and I’m face to face with it, with him, with Crow.
It’s seven feet tall, at first it gives the impression of a person in a mascot costume ( or maybe fursuit if your weird.), but as my eyes adjust to the gloom, the fabric and plastic are, filled, is the best way to put it. Less like a garment, more like skin.
It’s proportions are similar to the doll, but it radiates a sense of wrong, a sense of something that shouldn’t be in this world.
A second later it was gone, along with my ability to sleep that night.
Nada was not surprised at all when I mentioned it to her. She reacted like I’d just mentioned the sky was blue.
But through it all, we adapt, and after a year, things become almost mundane. Nada, if anything seems to be thriving, the kid is devouring books and documentaries well above her grade level. I begin to think, maybe, as disturbing as all of this is, it has one hell of a silver lining.
But then, we made our first mistake.
“What do you mean, he took it? “ I wince as my tone is harsher than I intended.
“I was walking home, he had two friends with him, and he just took it from me! “ Nada fires back, fearless.
I calm myself down, apologise, then look to Kurt.
“Don’t get riled up, we get ahold of the parents, get the toy back, it’ll be fine. “ he says.
But, it wasn’t fine.
After a bit of Facebook creeping we find that the kid is at a church lock in 2 towns over. By the time we figure this out, the event is well under way.
The parents were apologetic, but had no idea where the toy was.
We found ourselves a block away from the church, Nada was at home with a sitter, and my partner and I were sweating enough to fog the windows of our car.
“Can’t we just go in and ask? It seems a lot easier than this. “ I say.
“This needs to be done either way, and if you were the people looking after these kids, are you going to let two random guys start creeping around? “ Kurt replies, taking something out of a plastic grocery bag.
“Why did you bring masks? “ I inquire.
“Dan, we are two gay men breaking into a church full of kids, in the middle of the night, in Texas. “ He replies.
“Fair enough. “ I say, donning one of the itchy wool masks.
We make it to the back of the church, finding a side entrance unlocked, judging by the coffee can and pile of discarded cigarette butts nicotine was responsible for this lapse in security.
We enter a large kitchen, I notice nothing, but Kurt grabs my shirt and walks ahead, sniffing. His head is now on a swivel, scanning one end of the kitchen to the other.
After a few steps, he bends low, takes an old wooden spoon from the counter and prods a puddle on the ground.
He follows dark streaks I can barely make out, at the end is something that makes me discard the mask and vomit into the sink.
I guess the man was in his early thirties by what was left of his face, but given the degree of trauma to the body, my guess may be off by a decade in either direction.
He was mangled, torn, cut, and broken. His body a barely held together pile of fragmented bone and shredded clothing.
Kurt shifts his attention to the door leading into the church proper, and motions me to join him. It takes me a while to tear my gaze away from the corpse, but I eventually catch up.
We hear the kids in a gymnasium to our left, the sounds of a film, laughter, flashing light coming from under the thick oak doors.
We hear a different kind of laughter, low, rapid and muffled, and as we turn, we see Crow standing at the end of the hall. One arm, or wing dripping rapidly congealing blood.
The office at the end of the hall is occupied, dim white light and the noises of typing coming from within.
“Hey buddy, we just came to get you, you have any idea where the toy is? “ I say, but get no response other than cold, dead plastic eyes.
The entity turns, as it walks toward the door to the office, it opens. As the bird like thing walks in I notice it.
The door opening, Crow’s footsteps, everything inside of the room sounds muted, muffled, as if under layers of fabric.
Kurt and I run to the office, as we enter, that sonic veil seems to lift.
An old man, 60 or so sits behind a well polished oak desk. An ancient desktop monitor sits in front of him, and looming over the shocked, balding, glasses wearing old pastor is Crow.
The man is shocked, unable to form a sentence.
Kurt notices before I do, the pile of backpacks, and lunchbags in the corner of the room. Kurt wastes no time, running to the back of the office and tearing open the bags.
Crow grabs the old, square monitor in one hand, I begin to hear strain and creaking.
The old pastor begins to ask who we are, what we are doing here, starts to scream for help. But as much as the old tenor blows out my eardrums, no one beyond the doorway hears a thing.
With a pop like a gunshot the 90’s style monitor explodes, sending glass and plastic fragments into the old man’s face. He clutches it and screams, I plead with Crow to stop, Kurt flings empty backpack.
The creature throws the remains of the monitor at the man, it opens up a gash on his already mangled face. Crow stands on the desk, I hear him whisper, something too low to make out.
What the pastor says though, I do understand.
“Our father, who art in heaven… “ the man begins.
I can feel my brain wanting to shut down, the situation spiraling out of control, out of all sense of reason. But as this old man of faith uses the only shield he has, I see something.
The entity seems enthralled, stepping down from the desk, and it’s killing blow to sit, almost delicately in one of the red cherry chairs, head clocked listening to the pastor.
If there is one thing I know about Crow, it’s that he likes to learn, and I realise, this isn’t something he would have got much around our place.
Personally, I’m Catholic, Kurt is as religious as a piece of toast, but We’ve both decided to let Nada make her own mind up on the subject.
The pastor reaches the end of his prayer and the bird begins to rise.
“Think of another prayer Padre. “ I say, and the man, despite his wounds has the sense to launch into another.
“I found it! “ Kurt says, holding up the small, round doll. The cursed thing even waves a tiny arm as if to say ‘ I’m all right’.
This seems to distract Crow, and he looks over. The pastor stops praying as blood starts to come from his nose and mouth, glass splinters and metal fragments slowly working their way into his face.
Crow turns back to the man behind the desk, who again starts praying, the creature advances sliding the 200 pound piece of furniture aside with one arm as if it was a piece of Styrofoam.
The prayer doesn’t hold Crow’s interest, it pins the man’s shoulder to the whiteboard behind him with one long talon.
Kurt is screaming at it to stop, to listen, he Brandi’s he’s the toy like a totem, commands like a General, but nothing.
Crow pecks the man’s face, skull somehow splits despite the awkward stubby beak. The man clings to life.
Kurt throws the doll to me, and I get it. Nada has to have it.
Crow pulls the pastors right arm off and rips out it’s claw in a spray of blood, the man falls to the floor.
“I’ve got this. “ Kurt says, meeting my gaze.
The doll is warm, like a cup of scalding coffee, and makes small urgent sounding squeezing noises.
“Hey, buddy, so, if you want to talk God, I’m the guy to do it. Tried just about every flavor of religion at some point, none of ‘em fit, but I’ve got stories. “ Kurt is calm, and the entity seems to listen.
I don’t know how much time he has, so I run. Hoping I’ll see the man I love again.
The drive home with the small animate doll is unnerving, but with a few close calls and a lot of broken traffic laws, I’m home in about a quarter of the time it took to get us there.
I practically throw the doll at Nada and frantically dial Kurt.
“Are you okay? “ I say, before he can answer.
“Yes and no, I’m hiking a few miles to a hospital, not sure which one, but I’ll know that when I get into town. Don’t want to say anything else on the phone. “ Kurt says.
When I saw him next he was in a hospital bed looking like he was put through a meat grinder, and missing three fingers on his right hand.
We moved to Washington once Kurt was out of the hospital. The murders made local news, and while we were not approached by police, or mentioned, distance seemed a good option.
But all that is just the tip of the iceburg, a close call with a dangerous piece of equipment. Crow was never truly lost, just misplaced.
But as of yesterday, the worst has happened. Because of the actions of some idiot, Crow is lost, and we need to find him.
Next time, I’ll tell you about how that happened, till then, keep an eye out for us, if you can.
Link to part 2
https://www.reddit.com/r/nosleep/s/0GOmQ9F6hM