Tommy meets Danny here in part 1.
It’s rude not to read part 2 before continuing.
The last bit of light was just lingering in the sky when there was another knock at the door. Fear catapulted itself across Tommy’s face, but I was sure it was Susan this time. Still, Sara’s blond plaits bouncing as she gleefully skipped to the lake played in my mind as I reached for the doorknob. I hesitated and peeked through the curtains first to be sure. Susan stood on the doorstep in all her neatly curled glory, impatiently tapping her foot.
I ushered her in quickly, shooting glances in both directions before slamming the door shut behind her. The smell of the lasagna I’d slopped together wafted through the air. Susan sniffed deeply but said nothing. She lugged a large bag over her shoulder and heaved it onto the kitchen table with a loud thump. Her eyes softened as she glanced at Tommy sitting frightened at the table and then to me. I was too worn from the day and surprised by Susan’s entrance to form even a greeting that would coherently translate from brain to mouth.
Susan cleared her throat, “Well, I see it was too much to expect the food on the plates, but at least you’ve made something.”
My entire life was falling apart, my son wasn’t safe, and my sanity felt at risk, but of course the old bat was worried about food.
Susan sat next to Tommy as I grabbed a plate. Tensely, I asked, “Who’s Sara?”
Susan’s stiffened as she side-eyed me, “Where did you hear that name? I truly hope you weren’t snooping it’s –“
I cut her off, tired of endlessly being chastised about manners when everything about the last 48 hours felt like a fever dream, “She came to the door before you got here. She was looking for Tommy. She said to tell you hi and that she’d be seeing all of us soon. Then she skipped back to the lake and fucking MELTED into it!” As hysteria edged in, an accusatory tone began to take over. I knew none of what was happening to Tommy was Susan’s fault, and I understood why she hadn’t come to the door step on move in day with a pie and a crazy story, but I was just so angry.
Susan roughly smacked her hands on the table, “Language!” She bellowed, “It’s RUDE to swear at your elders!” The deep crimson spreading across her pale, wrinkled cheeks made her look as if she’d been slapped. She took a few deep breaths and continued, “I told you earlier most of my siblings had survived. Well, Sara didn’t. She was the youngest. That thing used to wear her face and skip around the yard, it would stick her tongue at us through the windows, thumbs in her ears with wiggling fingers to taunt us after it had taken her. It would sing in her voice and call for us to come out to play. We never stepped foot in that yard again as children, my mother made sure of it. Once it realized it wouldn’t be getting any more of us, it was angry. It decided to play a trick on my mother. She only saw that thing wear Sara’s face once and it was enough for her to put my father’s shotgun in her mouth. If it came to see you instead of just your son, something really, really bad is headed our way.”
My fear gave way to a gag, but Susan didn’t notice; her eyes were on Tommy. “This isn’t a story for kids,” she continued, “but given that it’s dark now, the best place for him to be is with us. We’ll all be staying in the living room tonight.”
“How kind of you to come in and take over my house,” I muttered.
“I think you mean how kind of me to give you a chance to save your son!” Susan retorted.
My eyes shot down with embarrassment, anger giving way to hopelessness. She was right, I couldn’t do this alone, and it wasn’t her fault. After a few moments of staring intensely, Susan dug in her bag and pulled out a large book. She opened the first few pages to what looked like family photographs and her eyes dragging slowly from picture to picture. As if suddenly remembering she wasn’t alone, she cleared her throat. “This,” she said pointing to one of the pictures, “was my sister Sara.” The photo looked exactly like the girl who’d come to my door earlier, down to the dress and blond plaits. “It was her birthday,” her voice trailed off.
“That’s the girl who came this afternoon.” I confirmed.
“It was and it wasn’t,” Susan softly replied. She took one last long look at the picture and turned the page. “The rest are mostly bits of news articles from missing children. Children who were unfortunate enough to be too close to the lake. Others are historical articles of the area and a bit of folklore. If you want to understand what exactly is after your son, you can read through this. And Tommy, you stay away from this book. It’s not meant for kids.”
With that, she slid the book towards me and I set her dinner plate in its place.
Later that night as Susan snored on the recliner a few feet from me, I got to reading. Tommy was curled up like a cat on the couch sleeping peacefully long before Susan and I were ready to retire, so I offered to make a pallet on the floor. There was plenty of room to spread out and take notes. The book was large, but most of the pages weren’t entirely filled. Some only had one small, snipped article centered on the page. Others looked like a child’s collage.
Children had been going missing near the lake for well over a century. How the FBI hadn’t suspected a serial killer or something and moved in was beyond me. I thought of waking Susan to ask, but when I looked up, I noticed the drool glistening on the corner of her left lip and decided to make a note to ask tomorrow. As I delved further into the book, news articles and hand-written lore scrawled almost illegibly on notebook paper began appearing on the same page.
I was so enveloped in my research; the creak of a door deeper into the house caught me entirely off guard. I stifled a scream as I looked at the couch. Tommy was gone. Quickly I jumped to my feet and lightly tapped on the bathroom door. For the sake of my sanity, he had to be there.
“Yes?” his small voice answered.
I pushed out a large sigh of relief, “Nothing, just checking on you,” I laid my hand against the door, as if to feel his presence, before heading back to my book.
After a few more pages, I think I finally understood what Susan believed was in the lake. The book claimed in 1800’s, when the town was just starting to come together, a small cult was discovered.
Jeremiah Rowler, the cult leader, had amassed just 2 followers. He had convinced them by maintaining a pure diet of children, the group would not just consuming their bodies, but also be their innocence, also referred to in the sloppily written notes as souls. According to Rowler, the more innocence eaten, the more pure their souls would become. This, according to Rowler, was the secret to salvation.
When not immediately discovered, the trio became sloppy. They decided they could eat more slowly. One early morning while his captors were sleeping, a child escaped. He made it into the town and told the crowd what had happened to him.
A group of angry men quickly found and hanged the followers, but believed Rowler was deserving of a more severe punishment. The men first beat him with fists, but Rowler only laughed. Then they grabbed stones. Rowler’s laughter turned into the cackles of a lunatic. As mob mentality grows, so does brutality; they forced hot tar down Rowler’s throat. Only then did the laughter cease, replaced by a constant, thick gurgling.
Two of the men set out alone on a boat rowed the dying cult leader into the center of the lake and dropped Rowler off the side to drown.
A week later, the first child disappeared. And then a second. And then another little girl she swore she saw her sister walking hand in hand with one of the missing children towards the lake.
As I finished the last article, I tucked my head between my knees, clutched myself with my arms, and began to sob. How could I possibly save my son from something like this? How many others had tried and failed? It was all too much. I hadn’t realized how loudly I’d been crying until I felt Susan’s arms around me. “There, there,” she shushed. Suddenly I felt her stiffen, “Where’s Tommy?”
“He went to the bathroom…” My voice trailed off. How long had it been? Long enough I’d finished more than a page. Terror struck me as I leapt from the floor and Susan’s grasp and threw the bathroom flung the door so hard it slammed into the wall.
The white ruffled curtains danced gently in the breeze that flowed through the open window. Tommy was gone. Susan ran in behind me as I screamed. That moment felt never ending. I knew in my soul that if there was a Hell, it would be the moment the door hit the wall and I saw an empty bathroom. The moment I heard screaming and my brain wouldn’t let me understand that it was coming from my own mouth.
Susan broke me out of my trance, grabbing a handful of my hair and dragging me back to the living room. “You run right now towards that lake. We might not be too late yet, but we will be if you don’t cut your shit,” Susan spat sternly. I had no time to even register she’d used foul language; I spun on my heels and ran.
Just a short distance ahead through the darkness I could make out two children holding hands, walking slowly towards the lake. The most visible detail being two blond plaits.
My bare feet flew across the wet grass, and once threatened to slip. I caught my footing as my breath hitched. I was close enough now to see Sara and Tommy clearly, their pace unaffected by my advancing. When I was nearly close enough to grab Tommy, something bright screamed past my left side and slammed into the back of Sara’s head.
I didn’t take even a second to try to understand what had happened, I snatched Tommy. The thing wearing Sara’s face turned towards me, her jaw unhinged unnaturally, showing far too many teeth and let out a screech so high pitched my eardrums painfully vibrated in protest. A second screaming bolt of light flew directly into her mouth. Fireworks!
With a now internal blow, the thing began to simultaneously stretch and melt as it oozed back towards the lake. I didn’t hesitate any longer, I ran as fast as I could back to the house, the smell of gunpowder from the bottle rocket becoming stronger. Crazy ass Susan was doing her own form of warfare against the monster, and while she’d nearly killed me and my son, it had worked. Not entirely, but enough that Tommy was safe, albeit a small singed patch of hair on his head, and in my arms for the moment.
As I attempted to console Tommy, Susan made sure all locks were secured on all windows and doors. “I’m so sorry, Mom,” Tommy hiccupped through tears, “She said if I didn’t come she was going to come inside and kill you!”
“We’re fine, Tommy, you’re fine,” I whispered over and over until he settled.
Susan sat calmly on the recliner, waiting patiently for our moment to pass. “Sun should be up soon and we’ll need to get to work. Rest a little now, we’ll all need it.”
Goosebumps spread across my body at Susan’s words and cool tone. “Get to work?”
“Oh absolutely,” Susan lightly chuckled, “We’re going to kill it.”