“I used to work here!” he exclaimed. “And isn’t impersonating a police officer a crime? No, don’t answer. Whoever… whoever prank called me should be arrested!”
“Mr. Daniel, it’s not our fault that you fell for the joke. You say you were a policeman here? Then you know very well how teenagers in this town like to behave. Now, if you will excuse me, I have real problems to attend to.”
She raised a manicured hand and shooed him away. Daniel stepped to the side a fraction, and a much younger gentleman came up to the desk. The secretary brushed her hair behind her ear and gave him what she thought was a seductive smile.
“And how may I help you?” she asked.
“Hey, lady,” Daniel interrupted, pushing back to the front of the line.
“What do you-”
“Just a question,” he asked. “Is there any place here me and my family can stay?”
“There’s some homes near the park that you can rent for-”
“Thanks.”
Daniel turned his back and headed out of the station. Everything around him looked completely different than he remembered. The computers were much sleeker, the whole place was well-lit, and all the desks had been changed and rearranged.
As he passed out the front double doors, he expected to find the same scene from twenty years ago: a paved area with benches and flowers and a fountain in the middle of it all. It was here that he met Michael, on that day long ago. Instead of that scene, the doors opened up to a whole new Marcy, bustling with people, bursting with buildings, and broken.
He got into his car, sitting there for a second before he started the engine. Daniel took a deep breath and tried to think, tried to relax. But it was no use, so he drove to the hotel instead, all the way to Hardy. They had rented a hotel there for a couple of nights because it was much cheaper than in Marcy, where the whole city was bursting at the seams.
As soon as he opened the door to their room, Mary jumped up off the bed. “Why are you-? Oh, it’s just you.”
“Were you expecting somebody else?” he asked.
“Cassie has Lucy down at the hotel pool, and I thought it was them. But why are you here?”
He sighed and plopped down on the bed. “The call wasn’t real.”
“Are you serious?”
He nodded, looking straight ahead. She came and sat down next to him. “So… like, um, what now?”
Daniel sat stiff as a board, not blinking. “I guess we can stay here a bit. Make a vacation. There are some homes by the river in Marcy, if you wanna rent one. Or by the park, in the same area.”
“And… would you be okay with staying here?”
He kept his face forwards, not turning to see her expression. “I guess.”
“Maybe we can walk around the town tonight. Go back to Marcy. Is that alright?” She put her hand gently on his leg.
“I guess.”
“Hey. Please tell me if you don’t wanna stay here.”
Daniel turned towards her, and she could see the pure terror in his eyes. “The city’s changed. There are bigger buildings, more people. It’s nothing like I knew before, and yet it’s exactly the same. There is fear, there is pain. And I know when we come back to Hardy everything will get worse.”
“We don’t have to come back here,” she assured him. “We can just stay up in Marcy for the week. We don’t need to stay in Hardy. We won’t.”
“They always come here. It starts in Marcy, but they always come here.”
“They who?” she asked, getting chills on her arms.
“The children.”
Chapter 4
Outage
Alexander sat in his room, with his phone’s battery slowly draining and his screen light turned all the way down in an effort to save it. Everything around him was pitch black. The time read 10:01, as he leaned back and let out a sigh. Even in the darkness, you could make out that his hair was a light color, and his eyes were just as bright.
The girl he was texting had gone to watch a movie with her family, so for the next two hours he was alone in the sweltering room. Their power had been off since that morning, which wasn’t much of a problem except for the lack of air conditioning. Sure, his shower had been ice cold, but at least he had one. It could’ve been worse. The summer sun was plenty of light until nine o’clock.
Now, in the silent dark, bored out of his mind, his thoughts weren’t so positive. It was lonely and miserable. The streetlight outside was drifting in through his curtains, which were parted in the middle. A patch of his floor was lit up, the light scraping one side of his face.
“Two hours,” Alexander mumbled to himself. “Two hours until her movie’s done. I wish I could watch a movie.” He stood up from the bed and reached for the dresser, powering off his phone to save battery. He set it down.
“Dang it,” he growled. “I need a flashlight still.”
Too lazy to turn on the phone and wait for it to power up, he decided to manage his way downstairs without the light. Waiting a second for his eyes to get accustomed, he set out across the bedroom, stepping carefully over the books littering the floor. He could read one of them for an hour or two, once he got a light. They shouldn’t have been on the floor.
Downstairs, his mother was in her room, likely eating a tub of ice cream. His father was gone, somewhere on a business trip.
His dad was the type of man who had two phones, one for work and one for everything else. Whenever he was in a room, his father knew where all the doors were, and how to escape silently to take a phone call. He never had a missed call, or an unanswered email, despite receiving them by the dozen.
His mother was much more relaxed, resigning herself to romance novels and oceans of ice cream. Without any real purpose and with only a single child, she went through phases of diets, buffets; exercise, Dairy Queen. Whatever fit the mood, that was her favorite thing.
Alexander took his first step down the stairs, tentatively feeling his way. With too much pride to sit on his butt and scoot down, he placed his hands on the walls and descended. It was peaceful downstairs, but terribly hot. Everything was so hot.
Feeling his way through the kitchen, he found a drawer and opened it. Inside, there was a pack of unopened batteries, but no flashlight. In case he found one that was dead, he grabbed the batteries. For now, Alexander was still in the dark.
There was a low sound from the blackest corner of the room, and Alexander turned cautiously to face that direction. He could barely make out the table. Underneath, something was crouching. It was frail, but looked dangerous.
Is it an animal? Alexander thought to himself. Should I run? Can it see me?
He took a step back, and the creature made a sound like a growl. He paused, tense. Alexander reached behind him, where there was a drawer of silverware, and opened it quietly. He fumbled around, as silently as possible, until he found the sharp edge of a knife. With his palm wrapped around the base, he pulled it out.
There was a burst, as the creature leapt out from the hiding place and lashed at him with claws. Alexander swung wildly with the knife, running towards the stairs but tripping. He landed on his face, and heard something screech from behind. As fast as possible, he crawled away, heading for his mom’s room.
Alexander scrambled to his feet and smashed against her door. It wouldn’t open. He twisted the handle, shaking it and hitting it, but it wouldn’t budge. From behind him came the sharp, clapping sound of naked skin on their tile floor.
He turned around and saw not an animal but a person facing him. She—he assumed it was a she, because of her long hair—was inching towards him, crawling on all fours, scratching her nails on the ground. It was like something from the Grudge, a menacing figure come to seek revenge. But for the life of him, Alexander couldn’t think of anything he’d done.
“Mom!” he screamed. “Mom, open your door!”
There was a sick, guttural laugh from the woman, as she clawed her way towards him. She started humming something, a lo
w song, and slowly stood up to her full height, her bones crunching and muscles creaking.
Alexander saw the dark shape of his Xbox beside him, and lunged for it. He lunged with both hands, held the console above his head, and threw it hard at her. A loud smack as it struck the woman on the head, and she fell backwards. Crack! resounded as her head met the ground.
He raced past her, feeling something scratch at his calf but ignoring the blood that trickled down it. The woman screamed as he flew past. He raced to the stairs, taking them three at a time, and heard her ragged breath behind him as she chased. He burst to the end of the upstairs hallway, grabbing onto the window, and wrenched it open.
A cool breeze of air met him as Alexander fit through the opening, his heart beating out of control. He got away from that spot as fast as possible, heading up the roof, gripping onto the shingles with his toes. Within minutes, he was at the highest point, looking down the slope towards the window he’d just exited.
As he turned back to face the window and the hallway through it, nothing came. There was nobody in the house, nobody coming towards him. There was even light spilling out of the hallway, light from inside his home. He could hear his father downstairs, laughing, and two bottles of wine clinking together. Nothing was the same. The lights were on; his dad was home; his mom was laughing.
The only odd thing was the streetlight outside his bedroom window. It was flickering. He couldn’t see the street from this angle, but he knew it was later than it should have been. There were no cars on the road. It had to be past eleven o’clock, but he’d come out here at 10ish.
Alexander climbed back into the house, zombie-walked down the hallway and into his lighted bedroom. He grabbed his phone from the floor beside his dresser and sighed. The time read 10:31. Maybe it wasn’t so late after all.
As he laid down in bed, he couldn’t escape the feeling that something was off. He went to close his curtains, shivering as he crawled out of bed. From the bottom of his eyes, he saw something by the streetlight. It was hunched over on the ground, and looked like some type of creature, frail yet dangerous. Something familiar.
He had to be imagining all this, some kind of sick and twisted dream. That would explain why nothing was the same. Everything had changed in just a few minutes.
Plopping down on his blankets, he groaned as something uncomfortable dug into his side. He reached over, put his hand into his pocket, and pulled out a pack of double-A batteries. Unopened.
<><><> <><> <>
“Something weird happened last night,” Alexander said, leaning back on the bench.
It was by the side of the road, a tough, plastic structure that he often inhabited. Jill was sitting beside him. She’d been asking why he never answered her texts the night before, once her movie was done.
“What do you mean weird?” she asked. “Like, I just hit puberty-type weird, or my friend told me they were gay-type weird?”
“What kind of question is that?” Alexander asked, chuckling.
“It happens. I had a friend come out of the closet a couple of days ago.”
“I wouldn’t know, because I hardly have any friends. Anyways, no, it wasn’t weird like any of those. It was weird like freaky.”
She looked at him with a strange expression. “You gonna tell me what it is, or just play with my imagination?”
“Let’s wait for the ice cream truck to pass.” Alexander grinned slightly as the music from the distance grew closer, and eventually pulled around the corner.
The truck rumbled down the road, finally pulling to a stop about 20 yards away. Alexander watched it, trying to think how he would phrase the story. Jill watched it too, while a pair of figures rose from a different bench and went towards the colorful vehicle.
“Hey, I know that girl,” Jill said abruptly. “That’s Abigail. Do you know her?”
Alexander shook his head. “Never heard of her.”
“She’s kind of weird… Really weird, honestly. But nice enough. I’m not sure about that boy. I think his name begins with a C. Cameron, or Cain?”
“I saw a lady,” Alexander blurted out. “She chased me onto the roof, and she tried to kill me, but when I turned around everything was normal, like it never even happened. I’m not even sure… I don’t know. I’m just really freaked out. I know what I saw, but it seems impossible.”
Jill stared at him, wide-eyed. “What?”
“That’s my story. That’s what happened.”
“I don’t know what to say, Alexander. Did you tell your parents?” she asked, tapping her heels nervously on the ground.
“No way. They’d think I’m insane or something. Say I’m reading too many books.”
She sighed and put an arm around him. “I don’t know. Let’s just see if it happens again, okay? Maybe you were sleepwalking.” She tried to smile. “Maybe it was a dream, or just… some weird thing you can’t explain.”
“I thought about that.”
“Can you try not to worry about it, Alex?”
He nodded. “I’ll try my best.”
“And if it does happen again, make sure you come talk to me, please. And tell your parents.”
“Do you think I’m crazy?” he asked, his voice growing quiet.
“I think you’re crazy in a lot of ways, but all of them are good. I think you’re great, Alex.” She leaned her head on his shoulder briefly, and he wanted to reach up and hold it there but restrained himself.
“Let’s get some ice cream,” Alexander suggested. “What do you think?”
“Sure. Let’s go.” Jill stood up and offered a hand to him. “I’m in the mood for dessert.”
He smiled and got to his feet, as they turned on the sidewalk and began their stroll over to the next block. It was a quiet walk, and neither of them talked much.
Alexander was doing a lot of thinking, staring around at nothing in particular. Whenever they made eye contact, he pretended to be happy, smiling lightly. Then she would look away, and he would gaze around at the city, especially at the dark alleys. His mind was racing, and expected that lady to be everywhere he turned.
As they stood in front of the ice cream truck, Alexander turned his back to it and watched the abandoned building to his right. The bottom section was a store to buy or rent clothes for prom, dresses and suits and the like. Above it was a boarded-up window and another one with cracked glass. From behind it, there was a woman staring, her cold face framed in long, dead hair.
“She’s watching you,” the man in the ice cream truck said. He wore a baseball cap low and his beard was grizzly, just a stub on his face. He looked to be in his thirties, and his eyes told stories of darkness and pain.
“What do you mean?” Alexander asked. He looked around for Jill, but she was gone.
“Your friend went into that shop to use the bathroom. Don’t worry. She’s safe. Get rid of that expression. She’s perfectly fine. It’s you that you should be worrying about. The woman’s watching you. She’s been watching you.”
“Why can’t anybody else see her?” the teenage boy demanded. “I want to know. I need to know I’m not insane.”
“You’re not. They can see her. They just… choose not to. I know what you’re thinking.. You can do what needs to be done. You just have to be strong. Don’t make the same mistakes we did, and don’t ever let your guard down. When you leave your doors open, she always comes in.”
“Can you help me?” Alexander asked nervously.
“I can help you, but I can’t tell you when I do. Just know I’m here. She’s watching you, but so am I. As long as you keep your head and don’t let her in, you’ll be safe. Perfectly safe.” The man looked behind Alexander at the shop and handed down a cone full of mint ice cream. “You’ll need this.”
Jill came out of the shop, holding her own cone, and motioned for him to follow. He nodded, casting one last glance at the man, but he had disappeared into the interior of the truck.. Alexander tramped on down the road, with Jill at his side, and im
mense fear trailing behind them.
The man in the ice cream truck grinned up at the second-floor of the building, making eye contact with the figure. He took a deep breath, closed up the window, and went up front to drive away. This street of Marcy had always given him chills. It still did. Someday, maybe the city would be different.
It was the lady. She knew. She always knew.
Chapter 5
Unseen
Daniel pushed open the door of the bookstore, ushering Lucy inside. He could feel eyes on his back, eyes on his sides, staring from windows and cars and benches. The feeling he got walking through Marcy again was unlike any other, sending shivers down his spine and sweat on his lips.
As soon as he stepped inside, a wave of cold air swept over him. Leaving the hot summer behind, he went into the bookshop.
“Hello, sir,” said a cheery teenage boy. He set down the book he was reading on the counter, pushed up his glasses, and fixed his curly blonde hair. “Welcome to the Marcy Downtown Book Place.”
“Hi,” he answered gruffly.
The bookstore was simple, with creaky wooden floors and the smell of old literature. There were hundreds of books lined up on the walls and on shelves that formed aisles. To a bookworm, it would be a magical place, a perfect place. At least it was away from the eyes of the city.
“How can I help you?” the boy asked, leaning against a sleek, wood counter. The cheap nametag on his shirt read: Alexander.
“Um… my daughter here just wanted to look around a bit,” Daniel lied. He nudged Lucy in the direction of the shelves. “Look, there’s some cool books... Go check those out.”
She frowned at him before heading over with a glum expression. Lucy picked up one, opened it, put it back on the shelf. She continued doing the same with every book.
“Avid reader, huh?” Alexander smiled awkwardly, shifting his feet.
Daniel ignored the boy and turned his back, peering out the windows of the store. There were herds of people on the baking sidewalks, despite the heat. None of them looked the smallest bit familiar, which was somewhat good and somewhat bad. What he dreaded, most of all, was to see a familiar figure, the one who’d started it all. So he kept a very close eye on the alleyways and the park benches, because that’s where he’d seen her last time.
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