by Brandon Mull
After a couple of minutes she rolled over to face the
other direction. She always had a tough time falling asleep
when she was too deliberate about it. She tried to think of
nothing, tried to focus on calm, regular breathing. Seth was
saying something, but the earplugs muffled it. She pulled
them out.
What?
I said, the suspense is killing me. Are you actually
using the earplugs?
Of course. You’re not?
I don’t want to miss anything.
Are you crazy?
I’m not tired at all, he said. Are you?
Not much.
Dare me to look out the window?
Don’t be stupid!
It’s barely sunset. What better time to look?
How about never.
You’re a bigger chicken than Goldilocks.
You’ve got less brains than Hugo.
The wind rose again, steadily gaining force. Warbling
moans echoed on the breeze, groaning in different pitches,
forming eerie, discordant harmonies. A long, birdlike
scream overpowered the ghostly chorus of moans, starting
at one side of the house, passing overhead, and finally fading.
In the distance, a bell began to toll.
Seth no longer looked quite so brave. Maybe we
should try to get some sleep, he said, putting in the
earplugs.
Kendra did likewise. The sounds were muffled, but continued:
the haunted wind lamenting, the house shuddering,
an increasing assortment of shrieks, screams, howls, and
wild bursts of gibbering laughter. The pillow grew warm, so
Kendra flipped it over to the cold side.
The only light in the room had been filtering through
the curtains. As twilight dimmed, the room darkened.
Kendra pressed her hands over her ears, trying to augment
the dampening power of the earplugs. She told herself the
sounds were just a storm.
A deep, throbbing beat joined the cacophony, keeping
a steady rhythm. As the pulsing percussion increased in
volume and tempo, it was accompanied by chanting in a
wailing language. Kendra resisted otherworldly images of
vicious demons on the hunt.
A pair of hands closed around her throat. She jumped
and flailed, smacking Seth across the cheek with the back
of her hand.
Jeez! Seth complained, stumbling away.
You asked for it! What’s the matter with you?
You should have seen your face, he laughed, recovering
from the slap.
Get back in bed.
He sat on the side of her bed. You should take out your
earplugs. The noise isn’t so bad after a while. It reminds me
of that CD Dad plays on Halloween.
She removed them. Except it’s shaking the house.
And it isn’t make-believe.
Don’t you want to look out the window?
No! Stop talking about it!
Seth leaned over and turned on the nightlight —— a
glowing statuette of Snoopy. I don’t see the big deal. I
mean, there are all sorts of cool things out there right now.
What’s wrong with just taking a little peek?
Grandpa said not to get out of your bed!
Grandpa lets people look when they get older, Seth
said. Dale told me. So it can’t be that dangerous. Grandpa
just thinks I’m an idiot.
Yeah, and he’s right!
Think about it. You wouldn’t want to run across a
tiger out in the wilderness. You’d be scared to death. But at
a zoo, who cares? It can’t get you. This room is safe.
Peeking out the window will be like looking at a zoo full of
monsters.
More like looking out of a shark cage.
A sudden, staccato flurry of pounding shook the roof,
as if a team of horses were galloping across the shingles.
Seth flinched, raising his arms protectively. Kendra heard
the creak and rattle of wagon wheels.
Don’t you want to see what that was? Seth asked.
Are you trying to tell me that didn’t scare you?
I expect to be scared. That’s the whole point!
If you don’t get back in bed, warned Kendra, I’m
telling Grandpa in the morning.
Don’t you want to see who’s playing the drums?
Seth, I’m not kidding. You probably won’t even be
able to see anything.
We have a telescope.
Something outside roared, a thunderous bellow of bestial
ferocity. It was enough to silence the conversation. The
night continued to rage. The roar came again, if anything
with greater intensity, momentarily drowning out all the
other commotion.
Kendra and Seth eyed one another. I bet it’s a dragon,
he said breathlessly, running over to the window.
Seth, no!
Seth pulled aside the curtain. The four jack-o-lanterns
shed a mellow illumination across the portion of the roof
directly beyond the window. For a moment Seth thought
he saw something swirling in the darkness at the edge of
the light, a whirling mass of silky black fabric. Then he saw
only blackness.
No stars, he reported.
Seth, get away from there. Kendra had her sheets
pulled up to her eyes.
He squinted through the window a moment longer.
Too dark; I can’t see anything. A glimmering fairy floated
up from one of the jack-o-lanterns, peering at Seth through
the slightly warped windowpane. Hey, a fairy came out.
The tiny fairy waved an arm and was joined by three others.
One made a face at Seth, and then all four streaked
away into the night.
Now he could see nothing. Seth closed the curtain and
backed away from the window. You had your look,
Kendra said. Are you satisfied?
The fairies in the jack-o-lanterns flew away, he said.
Nice work. They probably saw who they were guarding.
Actually, I think you’re right. One made a face at me.
Get back in bed, Kendra ordered.
The drumming ceased, along with the chanting. The
ghostly wind grew quiet. The howls and screams and laughter
diminished in volume and frequency. Something pattered
across the roof. Then… silence.
Something’s wrong, Seth whispered.
They probably saw you; get back in bed.
I have a flashlight in my emergency kit. He went to
the nightstand by his bed and withdrew a small flashlight
from the cereal box.
Kendra kicked off her sheets and lunged at Seth, tackling
him onto his bed. She wrenched the flashlight from his
grasp and pushed off him to regain her feet. He charged
her. Twisting, she used his momentum to shove him onto
her bed.
Quit it, Seth, or I’ll go get Grandpa right now!
I’m not the one starting a fight! His expression was a
portrait of wounded resentment. She hated when he tried
to act like the victim after initiating trouble.
Neither am I.
First you hit me, then you jump on me?
You stop breaking the rules or I’m going straight
downstairs.
You’re worse than the witch. Grandpa should build
you a shack.
>
Get in your bed.
Give me my light. I bought it with my own money.
They were interrupted by the sound of a baby crying.
There was nothing desperate about it, just the bawling of
an upset infant. The crying seemed to emanate from outside
the darkened window.
A little baby, Seth said.
No, it’s some trick.
Maaamaaaaaaa, the baby whined.
Sounds pretty real, Seth said. Let me take a look.
It’s going to be a skeleton or something.
Seth grabbed the flashlight from Kendra. She neither
gave it to him nor prevented him from taking it. He jogged
over to the window. Holding the front of flashlight against
the windowpane, and cupping a hand around it to minimize
reflection, he switched it on.
Oh my gosh, he said. It really is a baby!
Anything else?
Just a crying baby. The crying stopped. Now he’s
looking at me.
Kendra could no longer resist. She went and stood
behind Seth. There on the roof just beyond the window
stood a tear-streaked toddler who looked barely old enough
to stand. The baby wore cloth diapers and nothing else. He
had wispy blonde curls and a little round tummy with an
outie bellybutton. Eyes brimming with tears, the child held
out its pudgy arms toward the window.
It has to be a trick, Kendra said. An illusion.
Spotlighted by the flashlight, the toddler took a step
toward the window and fell to all fours. He pouted, on the
verge of crying again. Standing up, the baby tried another
wobbly step. Goose bumps stood out on his chest and arms.
He looks real, said Seth. What if he’s real?
Why would a baby be on the roof?
The baby toddled to the window, pressing a chubby
palm against the glass. Something glinted in the light
behind him. Seth shifted the beam onto a pair of green-eyed
wolves approaching stealthily from the edge of the
roof. The animals paused as the light fell on them. Both
looked mangy and lean. One of the wolves bared sharp
teeth, foam frothing from its mouth. The other was missing
an eye.
They’re using him as bait! Seth yelled.
The baby looked back at the wolves, then turned back
toward Seth and Kendra, bawling with renewed vigor, fresh
tears streaming, tiny hands slapping the windowpanes. The
wolves charged. The toddler wailed.
In her cage, Goldilocks clucked wildly.
Seth threw open the window.
No! Kendra shouted, although she reflexively wanted
to do the same thing.
The instant the window opened, wind gushed into the
room, as if the air itself had been waiting to pounce. The
baby dove into the room, transforming grotesquely as it
landed on the floor in a deft somersault. The child was
replaced by a leering goblin with yellow slits for eyes, a
puckered nose, and a face like a dried cantaloupe. Bald and
scabrous on top, the head was fringed by long, weblike hair.
The sinuous arms were gangly, the hands long and leathery,
tipped with hooked claws. Ribs, collarbones, and pelvis
jutted hideously. Spidery networks of veins bulged against
maroon flesh.
With supernatural haste, the wolves also sailed through
the window before Seth could move to close it. Kendra
shoved past Seth and jerked the window shut in time to
impede the entrance of a coldly beautiful woman swathed
in writhing black garments. The apparition’s dark hair
undulated like vapor in a breeze. Her pallid face was
slightly translucent. Gazing into those empty, searing eyes
froze Kendra where she stood. Babbling whispers filled her
mind. Her mouth felt dry. She could not swallow.
Seth yanked the curtains shut and tugged Kendra
toward the bed. Whatever trance had momentarily gorgonized
her dissolved. Disoriented, she ran alongside Seth
to the bed, sensing something in pursuit. When they leaped
onto the mattress, a brilliant light flared behind them,
accompanied by a crisp stutter like firecrackers.
Kendra twisted to get a look. The maroon goblin stood
near the bed, coddling its bony shoulder. The scowling
creature stood about as tall as Dale. Hesitantly it reached a
knobby hand toward her, and another bright flash sent it
staggering away.
The circle of salt! At first she had not grasped why
Seth was dragging her to the bed. At least one of them was
thinking! Glancing down, Kendra saw that the two-inch
dune of salt surrounding the bed indeed marked the line
the goblin could not cross.
A twelve-foot centipede with three sets of wings and
three pairs of taloned feet corkscrewed around the room in
a complex aerial display. A brutish monster with a pronounced
underbite and plates down its spine hurled a
wardrobe across the room. The wolves had shed their disguises
as well.
The maroon goblin cavorted around the room in a feral
tantrum, tearing down bookshelves, upsetting toy chests,
and snapping the horn off the rocking horse. It picked up
Goldilocks’s cage and flung it against the wall. The slender
bars crumpled and the door sprang open. The terrified
chicken took to ungainly flight in a flurry of golden
feathers.
Goldilocks was coming toward the bed. The winged
centipede struck at the flustered hen but missed. The
maroon demon made an acrobatic leap and caught the
chicken by both legs. Goldilocks clucked and squirmed in
mortal panic.
Seth jumped off the bed. Crouching, he scooped up
two handfuls from the circle of salt and charged the wiry
goblin. Now holding the chicken in one hand, the sneering
goblin rushed to meet him. An instant before the outstretched
hand of the demon reached him, Seth flung a
handful of salt. Releasing Goldilocks, the demon reeled
back, scorched by a blinding blaze.
The chicken made straight for the bed, and Seth tossed
his other handful of salt in a wide arc to cover their retreat,
scalding the flying centipede in the process. The bulky
creature with the underbite tried to beat Seth to the bed,
arriving too late and receiving a violent shock as it collided
with the invisible salt barrier. Back on the bed, Seth clung
to Goldilocks, arms quivering convulsively.
The maroon demon growled. His face and chest were
charred from the salt. Tendrils of smoke curled up from the
burns. Turning, the demon pulled a book from the shelf
and tore it in half.
The door flew open, and Dale leveled a shotgun at the
monster with the underbite. You kids stay put no matter
what! he called. All three monsters converged on the
doorway. Dale retreated down the stairs, gun silent. The
winged centipede spiraled out the door above the other
scrambling creatures.
They heard a shotgun blast from down in the hall.
Shut the door and stay put! Dale hollered.
Kendra ran and slammed the door, then sprinted
back
to her bed. Seth held Goldilocks, tears streaming down his
cheeks. I didn’t mean for this to happen, he whimpered.
It’ll be okay.
From downstairs came repeated gunshots. Growls,
roars, shrieks, glass shattering, wood splintering. Outside,
the cacophonous uproar resumed louder than ever. Pagan
drums, ethereal choirs, tribal chanting, wailing lamentations,
guttural snarls, unnatural howls, and piercing screams
united in relentless disharmony.
Kendra, Seth, and Goldilocks sat on the bed awaiting
dawn. Kendra had to constantly fight images of the woman
with the swirling black garments. She could not get the
apparition out of her mind. When she had looked into
those soulless eyes, even though the lady was outside,
Kendra had felt certain there would be no escape.
Late in the night, the furor finally began to relent,
replaced by more unnerving sounds. Babies began to cry
beyond the window again, calling for mama. When that
failed to elicit a response, the voices of young children
pleaded for help.
Kendra, please hurry, they’re coming!
Seth, Seth, open up, help us! Seth, don’t leave us out
here!
After the cries went ignored for a while, snarls and
screams would simulate the demise of the young supplicants.
Then a new batch of solicitors began begging for
admittance.
Perhaps most disconcerting was when Grandpa was
inviting them down to breakfast. We made it, kids, the
sun is rising! Come on, Lena cooked hotcakes.
How do we know you’re our Grandpa? Kendra asked,
more than a little suspicious.
Because I love you. Hurry, the food’s getting cold.
I don’t think the sun is up yet, Seth replied.
It’s just a little cloudy this morning.
Go away, Kendra said.
Just let me in; I want to kiss you good morning.
Our Grandpa never kisses us, you sicko, Seth yelled.
Get out of our house!
The exchange was followed by vicious banging on the
door for a solid five minutes. The hinges shook, but the
door held.
The night wore on. Kendra leaned against the headboard
as Seth dozed at her side. Despite the noise, her eyelids
began to feel heavy.
Suddenly she jerked awake. Gray light was seeping
through the curtains. Goldilocks wandered the floor, pecking
at kernels from her spilled bucket of feed.
When the curtains were masking unmistakable sunlight,
Kendra nudged Seth. He looked around, blinking,
