The Hunting of Malin

by Sean Thomas Fisher

Gingerly, Malin peeled a red tank top back, craning her neck for a better view of her shoulder blade. Her heartrate accelerated from zero to sixty, sealing off the airflow.

  “Holy shit, something fucking scratched you!”

  “Roscoe! I will not have that kind of talk in my house,” Luna snapped, staggering down the hallway and disappearing into the bathroom.

  Malin stared at the bloody marks in her shoulder, unable to catch her breath or collect her wits. The four scratches were two to three inches in length, each anchored by a deep puncture wound at the top. The grandfather clock stopped ticking along with her heart. She had to be seeing things but, judging by the horrified look on Roscoe’s face, she wasn’t.

  “What the hell?” he whispered, reaching out.

  “Don’t touch it!” Luna shouted from down the hall.

  Roscoe jerked his hand back, face twisting. “Does it hurt?”

  Malin stared at the scratch marks for a long moment, ultimately surprised by her conclusion. “It doesn’t.”

  “That is so insane. What happened?”

  She looked up to meet his wide eyes. “I don’t know.”

  Luna rushed back into the room with medical supplies cradled in her arms. “Everything is okay now,” she said, the tremor in her voice contradicting her words.

  “What happened?” Malin asked, watching her mother turn into Florence Nightingale.

  “It touched you.”

  Her brow folded. “What touched me?”

  “The spirit.”

  “Amber’s spirit?”

  “I don’t know,” Luna replied, wetting some cotton balls with rubbing alcohol and then sprinkling a black mystery powder over them like she was decorating white chocolate truffles.

  “Why me?”

  “Because you don’t believe,” Luna answered, applying a ball to the wound.

  Malin sucked a breath in through gritted teeth. “That’s not true!”

  Dabbing at the wound with a few more balls, Luna taped a square of gauze over it before pushing the red velvet across the table to Roscoe. “Take this thing from my house.”

  He scooped up Amber’s necklace and Malin noticed the color creep back into her mother’s cheeks. “What do we do now?” Roscoe asked, pocketing the necklace.

  “Other than going to the police and giving them everything you know and have, the only way you can stop the darkness is by spreading the light hiding within us all. It’s in there. Some just have to dig a little deeper to find it than others.”

  Roscoe exchanged a baffled look with Malin. “Light?”

  “White magic,” Luna panted, staggering to the front door and leaning against it. “Do a good deed for someone today, no matter how much you don’t feel like doing it, especially when you don’t feel like doing it.” Wiping more blood from her nose, she turned to face them with a grave look haunting her eyes. “Don’t respond to evil with evil; overcome it with good.”

  Malin got up from the table and stumbled a bit with the motion, grabbing a chair for support. “A good deed? Really? That’s all you got after all of this?” she said, sweeping a hand over the smoldering table.

  Luna pulled open the front door like it weighed a ton, letting in a sword of sunlight. “Sometimes even the smallest things can be the biggest reward to a complete stranger. Pay it forward. Find your power and harness it.” She paused for breath, looking smaller in the sunshine pushing through the clouds. “I must rest now; we’ll talk later.”

  Head down, Malin crossed the room on shaky legs that already ached from this morning’s hike. Following Roscoe outside, she squinted against the harsh glow, cursing herself for leaving her shades in his car. Gravity’s pull had strengthened since they went inside and her head felt three times its size, slumping her shoulders.

  Luna snatched Malin’s elbow on the front porch and spun her around, draping the evil eye over her head. “Because of our history, we are an unfortunate target,” she whispered, watching Roscoe climb inside his car. “Darkness has hunted this family for centuries and we have to protect ourselves at all times.”

  Groaning, Malin let the evil eye hang from her neck. “What darkness?”

  “The one coming again.”

  She stared blankly back with her mouth agape. “I can’t believe you’re even close to being serious right now.”

  “Just keep that necklace on and call me as soon as you get home; there is something we need to discuss.” Her hand went to her neck to find nothing there. “In private.”

  Malin studied her mother, stomach muscles tensing. “Are you okay?”

  “I’m fine, dear.”

  “Will you be okay here by yourself?”

  “Don’t worry about me. It’s you I’m worried about.”

  Looking over her mother’s shoulder, Malin’s eyes slipped down the hallway, stopping at the closed bedroom doors at the end. “Is it gone?”

  “Yes,” Luna replied, a breeze lifting her dress. “For now.”

  Chapter15

  Back in her apartment, relief swamped Malin as soon as she shut and locked the door. She couldn’t think with Roscoe going on and on about everything that just happened and now that he was gone she could finally breathe. It felt like a stack of stones had been lifted from her chest. Amber told them the killer wasn’t in the room and Malin’s heart agreed, but her gut was a different story. It wasn’t convinced and neither was Luna. That much was evident in her mother’s eyes and Malin couldn’t wait to find out what she really thought. The fact that she, clearly, didn’t want to communicate her true feelings in front of Roscoe spoke volumes.

  Crossing the living room with an empty Starbucks cup in her hand, she turned it over and dumped the evil eye necklace onto the coffee table with some drops of mocha. Malin then plopped onto the couch with an exhausted sigh and turned on the TV to keep from feeling alone. Her eyes roamed the framed pictures of family and friends as she kicked out of her boots. She wished they were here now, to keep her from being alone. Tapping at her cellphone, she called Luna and listened to it ring, massaging the back of her neck and wincing as her fingertips found the scratches in her shoulder. Her mind scrambled to fill in the blanks. What if she’d been marked? What if it wasn’t Amber’s spirit in the room with them? What if was here right now? Watching her from…

  A knock on the door jerked her from her thoughts. Slowly lowering the phone, she pushed off the couch and traipsed across the living room, dying to know the truth. Dying to know what they were up against. Pulling the front door back, bewilderment settled in her eyes. Hesitantly, she stepped a bare foot out onto the welcome mat, looking up and down the empty hallway with a cold finger running down her spine. She brought the other foot out, allowing the hallway lights to paint her in a sickly glow.

  “Hello?”

  Someone’s door slammed shut down the hall, vibrating her feet. Shuddering, she stepped back inside and locked the door, mind reeling. In the end, it was easy tricking herself into believing someone had knocked on a neighbor’s door and not hers. Noises carried in this old building and she was tired and jumpy and understandably so. Exhaling, she leaned against the door and her heart pitched in her chest. Fear rooted her feet to the floor like an old tree. Blinking a cloud of horror from her distended eyes, she stared at the person sitting in the wingback chair next to the couch. The figure sat unmoving beneath Malin’s favorite blanket, staring straight ahead like a newly erected statue about to be unveiled before the admiring public.

  “Hello?” Malin heard herself say in someone else’s voice. The floorboards groaned beneath her weight, protesting the advancement. She wanted to turn and run but it was like she was caught in some unseen gravitational pull, drawn to the ghostly outline of whoever was sitting in the Victorian wingback she scored at a secondhand shop. Stopping next to the chair, she followed the person’s hidden stare to the TV where a rerun of Family Feud was airing too loudly. Without realizing she was even moving, she saw her hand reach out and grab a corner of the blanket. Her heart banged
faster in her ears. Yanking on the blanket, she jumped back and shrieked as a stack of decorative pillows tumbled from the chair and landed at her feet. Her chest rose and fell as she scoured the apartment for an intruder she could not see.

  A loud knock on the door made her jump. Dropping the blanket, she stomped across the living room, imagining the worst. It was the spirit and it wasn’t done with her yet. Malin peered through the peephole to see Luna swimming in the fishbowl-shaped hallway. Unlocking a pent-up breath, she opened the door and Luna barged inside as if she were being followed. The door across the hall cracked open and a fit man with a gray crew cut stepped out and smiled.

  “Afternoon, Malin.”

  “Hi Bill,” she said in a choked whisper, shutting the door and locking it. She didn’t have time for small talk about the blistering weather or soaring gas prices right now. Someone, or something, was inside her apartment and she could feel it just as much as she felt someone standing behind her during the séance.

  “You can stop calling me now,” Luna said, setting her purse on the wingback chair and pulling a spray bottle out.

  Malin glanced at the phone in her hand before looking to pillows on the floor.

  “Are you okay?”

  Looking up, her mouth opened but nothing came out. “Did you just knock on the door a few seconds ago?”

  Luna looked at the door. “Yes, and you answered.”

  “No, I mean before that.” Malin noted the suspicion rising in her mother’s eyes and dismissed it with a shake of the head. “Never mind. Tell me what happened with the séance.”

  Hesitating, Luna began spraying the apartment.

  “Uh-uh, not in here, Mom.”

  Luna ignored her, moving fast and covering ground. After saturating the entire place, she set the bottle down and collapsed next to her purse in the wingback and Malin wondered if she was sitting in something’s lap. Running a hand down her face, Luna chased her breath, skin thin and waxy.

  “You should be at home resting,” Malin said, fetching some water from the kitchen.

  “Thank you.” Luna pulled her hair back and sipped from the bottle.

  Malin stood over her, arms folded across her chest. “So? What happened?”

  “It’s Roscoe,” she panted, wiping water from her chin.

  “What about him?”

  “There is a very negative energy following him around.” Her throat clicked when she swallowed. “Like a shadow.”

  Malin sat on the arm of the couch before she fainted, white spots streaking her field of vision. “And?” she said, setting her phone down.

  Luna’s gaze drifted to the rerun of Family Feud, eyes turning cold and vacant. “Something has latched onto him and I want you to keep your distance.”

  “Something like what?”

  “Something wicked.”

  Malin’s face stiffened. “Is that what scratched me?”

  Turning to her daughter, she wavered before answering. “Yes.” Her eyes landed on the evil eye necklace on the coffee table and widened. “Malin Waterhouse, you put that necklace on this instant!”

  “It keeps getting caught in my hair and it’s way too big. I feel like MC Hammer.” Rubbing the back of her neck, Malin studied her mother’s worried expression, voice falling to a chilled whisper. “You saw it, didn’t you?”

  Luna lit up a smudge stick and Malin barely noticed. “Yes.”

  “Was it Amber Rowe?”

  “No.”

  “Well, what’d it look like?”

  “Indescribable,” she replied in a faint voice, waving the stick around. “It was tall and thin and very dark – amorphous in nature but singular in intent.”

  Malin began coughing, the smoke choking her lungs. A painful flash of the thin shadow standing behind her in the mirror at the bar tore through her mind. “If it’s latched onto Roscoe, why did it scratch me?”

  Breathing heavily, Luna’s hand went to a new necklace draped around her neck, this one a thin golden cross. “Because it wants you next.”

  “What! Why me?”

  Luna leaned forward and set the smudge stick on top of an empty Diet Coke can, discreetly snatching the evil eye necklace from the coffee table. “I’ll know more soon,” she replied, grabbing her purse and rising from the chair.

  “Wait!” Springing to her feet, Malin rushed across the room, head dizzy from the sudden movement. “Where’re you going?”

  “I must rest!” She leaned against the front door, keeping her back to Malin and softening her voice. “You need to take out your garbage. It reeks in here.”

  “Mom! It scratched me. Is there anything wrong with me?”

  Luna finally turned to face her, sallow skin hanging beneath heavy-lidded eyes. “You’re fine, for now. Much like a shark, it sampled you with a small bump but it may return for more if we’re not careful.”

  “Are you saying Roscoe killed those girls? Because of this…possession?”

  Luna blinked a tear out, voice cracking around the edges. “I’m afraid so.”

  “What can we do to get it out of him?”

  “I’ll be in touch soon,” she answered, releasing the deadbolt with a grunt.

  “So, what should I do now?”

  “Stay in your apartment!” Luna threw the door back and stumbled out into the hallway without bothering to close it.

  Watching her stagger away and disappear down the stairs at the other end, Malin slowly shut the door and double locked it. Sighing, she went into the living room and planted her hands on her hips, looking from the empty wingback to the smoke rising from the smudge stick perched atop the pop can. Her heartbeat quickened in her chest. The police would never believe any of this and there was only one person she could think of turning to for help. One person who could help her stop it. Whatever it was. Her body craved sleep but her mind wouldn’t allow it. She couldn’t just sit here and do nothing, waiting on Luna for God knows how long while another girl died a violent death. Punching at her cellphone, she pressed it to an ear and held her breath, mentally rehearsing what to say and forgetting every word when the call answered.

  Chapter16

  Making it to Smokey Row for coffee by four-thirty proved to be an exercise in futility. Malin’s hair was still wet from a shower and the blustery downtown streets forced her legs to work much harder than they wished. Her thighs screamed for a break. She’d tried taking a cat nap but couldn’t shut it down, tossing and turning as thoughts of riding a rollercoaster with a dead Amber Rowe spun inside her head. Eventually, Malin resigned to surfing boring jobs online, which only worsened her outlook on things. A cab slammed on the brakes and laid on the horn as she absentmindedly crossed the street. Recoiling, she shot the driver an apologetic wave and the red-eyed cabbie sank down in the seat and half-heartedly waved back. Hopping up onto the curb, her mother’s words haunted her frenzied steps.

  There is a very negative energy following him around.

  Like a shadow.

  Malin’s Chucks moved in a red blur. Everyone she passed seemed to be staring. Her ponytail was too tight and her feet hurt. Pushing her sunglasses up, her mind worked overtime to defend her friend. It couldn’t be Roscoe. There had to be a rational explanation. She’d known him her entire life and he was no killer. The Zippo felt hot in the pocket of her skinny jeans, burning her leg. But what if? After all, how many times did the press interview a friend of the most recent nut-bag shooter, only to hear those same words spill from their incredulous mouth?

  He was a great guy who seemed so normal. Would never hurt a fly.

  Nobody suspected most killers because their switch hadn’t yet been flipped. Now, she had a better idea of what was flipping that switch. If Luna was right, it would explain a lot about the alarming number of humans who’d reached a subhuman level over the years.

  A cop out walking his beat stopped with a cup of coffee in one hand and watched her hurry past with his jaw dragging on the cement. Malin ignored him and adjusted the breezy top her breasts
were trying to escape, silently yelling at her legs to quit their bitching. She felt like he knew she withheld information concerning Amber Rowe’s body out at the lake. Like he knew she tampered with the crime scene. Knew she had this power to stop the man in a Carhartt jacket but would rather bury her head in the sand.

  Other than going to the police and giving them everything you know and have, the only way you can stop the darkness is by spreading the light hiding within us all.

  Luna again.

  Malin laughed out loud. White magic. There was nothing white about any of this except for the skin stretching over those bloating corpses.

  Do a good deed for someone today.

  That simple-minded bullshit made Malin laugh even harder, to the point people started to stare, including the dirty man sitting on the sidewalk outside the coffee shop. Her smile dropped as she got closer, noticing his rolled up sleeping bag supporting a cardboard sign that read: May God bless you today. Malin stopped in front of him, her mother’s words floating back to her on a coffee-scented breeze.

  Pay it forward.

  At this point, it couldn’t hurt. She could use all the good karma she could get. Digging around in her purse, she handed the man two dollars she couldn’t afford to give away now that she was in the same unemployment boat he was. He smiled up at her, lips pulling back to reveal yellow teeth smeared with what looked like peanut butter. His hand reached out to take the money, nails grimy and cracked, sleeve tattered and torn. Just before his fingertips made contact, his smile melted into the change cup in his lap. Pulling his hand back, he looked away. Malin furrowed her brow and gestured with the money. Couldn’t he see she was twenty minutes late and didn’t have time for this bullshit? The man scooted back against the front window of the coffee shop and offered the change cup up to her. Jaw coming unhinged, Malin’s gaze drew to the window, where a good-looking couple who’d been talking and laughing just a moment ago, were now staring at Malin through grave eyes. Looking back to the homeless man, she frowned. “Creep,” she muttered, stuffing the cash back in her purse and hurrying inside.