“Before I go on, just know that the other kids at school showed me proof. I’ll get to that later, okay.”
Billy was losing patience, and if he was being honest with himself, he was starting to wish he was inside the house and not sat out here on the porch while the shadows crept up the wooden awnings and the wind whispered insidious promises through the treetops only a stone’s throw away.
Yes, he wished he was inside.
With the doors locked.
“Just tell me, Kevin…jeez! It’s getting dark”
“Okay, but try not to worry, Billy. As long as I paint myself onto this egg, we’ll be fine. That’s what they said.”
“Okay…” Billy prodded.
“Thing is, some of the kids at school, they…they told me a story about this place. About Abbington Wood. They said that the woods are old. Very old. And that they run deeper than meets the eye. They said that there are places in the woods, far back from town, where no one ever goes. They don’t go there because they’re scared.”
“Scared?”
“Yeah. They said that ever since the first of the white settlers arrived, before they was even a homestead, never mind a town, people have been going missing. Children.”
“You mean like…kidnapped?”
“Not quite. Apparently it started the very first spring the settlers arrived. On Easter to be exact. A little girl went missing from her home. All that was found was a trail of blood leading away from her bedroom and into the forest. Her father and a few men from the settlement took to searching for her in and around the old wood. They searched for days…weeks…but she was never found. No body. No nothing. It was like she just disappeared from the face of the earth.
“It happened again the following year. And the year after that. In fact, Billy. It happened every single year since that first Easter, until one year, an old Maliseet Indian passed through town with his family, heading south down along what we call the Saint John river, towards the border into Canada. He helped them, told them he knew what was taking their children – their first born children. He said that those old woods were home to many things not meant for this world. Not natural. Things that didn’t belong. Things older than man himself. He said that the town sat on something the kids at school called a ‘ley line’, and that the threshold between worlds was thin here. So very thin that at some point, somewhere back in time, something had come through.
“And it set up its home on those woods, right out there…” Kevin nodded towards the old forest.
Billy felt chills kiss the nape of his neck as Kevin went on.
“No one knows what the thing is that lives out there, but they say it’s an abomination. Something that predates even Christianity. Whatever it is, people around here say that it’s the true spirit of Easter.”
“Easter’s a Christian holiday, Kevin.” Billy retorted. “The egg represents…”
“I know what the egg represents, kid. Or rather, what it’s supposed to represent. To us, it represents the resurrection, but all religions are an approximation of older myths that came before. Everything is hand-me-down, Billy. The same tales, or similar, are rooted in all cultures. They teach us all this at school. In the Pagan religion, Easter is the beginning of spring, the rebirth of nature after the cold grip of deathly winter. The egg represents fertility, new life. You see, each culture has its myths and its gods, Here, in Abbington, one of those myths is actually real.
“The Maliseet elder told the townsfolk what they had to do. It was simple really. The creature in the woods, it demanded that a rite be performed. His tribe had dealt with such a being before. They feared and revered it. Saw it as a lesser god of sorts. They understood the old ways before the white man came, and understood the being’s desires. It feeds on the destruction of human tradition…human spirituality. Now, it wants to mock the holiness of the holiday.”
Billy looked down at the roughly painted egg, chills creeping up his spine like liquid ice. He fought to compose himself. Kevin’s story was getting under his skin.
Against his better judgment, he peered out into the now impenetrable gloom of the forest. Was it his imagination, or had the woods fallen still? The soft symphony of the forest seemed to have faded into silence. No birds sang in the trees. The rustling of leaves caught in the gentle springtime wind had ceased.
It was as though nature herself were holding her breath.
And he felt eyes on him, too.
Watchful. Baleful. Poison with insidious intent.
It was his imagination.
Had to be.
If Kevin had noticed the eerie stillness that had fallen over the woods, he never let on. He continued his story, speaking faster now, eager to be finished.
“Most of the people that live here are ‘old blood’. That’s what Lucy at school called them…’old blood’. It means that their families have lived here since the town was built. They go back generations. She said that they all follow a much older tradition here, and that they learned to do so through heartbreak and bloodshed. Many children had been lost before they began to take the old Indian’s story to heart. These were stoic Christians, set in their ways. It wasn’t easy for them to let go of their own rites and take up a new one. They saw it as an affront to their god, and that was the whole point. The thing in the woods, it wanted to replace their holiest of traditions with something…darker.
“Anyway, they learned to follow the old ways, but like any other town, new people would move in. People who didn’t understand the way things work around here. The locals would welcome those families in, and when the time was right, they’d have a talk with them. Sometimes they’d tell the parents, but usually they’d tell the kids, knowing that kids would be more likely to believe them. They’d tell them all about the dark thing out there in the woods, and what they had to do to keep it from their door.”
“And the families, the kids… they didn’t listen.” Billy stated. It wasn’t a question.
“Some did. Most in fact. After all, why take the chance, right? Others, though…others thought the whole thing was nonsense, and kept the holiday in their own way. They came to regret it.” Kevin paused, smiling ruefully. “Of course, I wasn’t buying any of this shit when I first heard it.”
“Stuff.” Billy corrected.
“Sorry…stuff…I wasn’t buying it, but Lucy and Ian took me to the school library. They’ve kept all the old records there of the town’s history. All the newspaper clippings, going back till at least the turn of the century. They showed me the articles, Billy. They showed me the articles about the missing kids. And you know what?”
“What?” Billy asked, rapt.
“Every single one of them vanished on Easter Sunday. Every single one of them, gone, this very night…”
Kevin’s final words seemed to hang in the air like black smoke. Billy felt his stomach fold over on itself. He couldn’t help it. He was frightened.
Without another word, Kevin carefully picked up his egg and resumed painting. It was almost finished, by the looks of it.
While he watched, Billy played the story over in his mind.
His brother sounded like he meant it. He didn’t sound like he was playing games, but then wasn’t that exactly what an older brother would do to try and scare him?
Yes, of course it was!
Suddenly, the spell was broken. Billy breathed deep. In that moment, he realized just what his lame ass brother was playing at. Here they were, alone without their parents for the first time in a new home, right next to some very spooky woods, and Kevin was trying to freak him out.
He was toying with him.
There was no old tradition.
No creature in the woods waiting to strike.
No Indian.
No nothing!
Now that he was thinking rationally again, Billy felt very stupid. He’d been suckered, and not for the first time, by his smarter, cooler sibling. It seemed like a prank more suited to Halloween, but he had to give Kevin c
redit for his performance. It was Oscar worthy.
Fighting to hold in his smile, Billy decided that he’d play along. He’d let his lame older brother think he was terrified. Let him think he was every bit as gullible as Kevin took him to be.
For now.
Kevin had finished painting the egg now. Holding it in his hands, he stood up from the wooden stairs where they sat, and walked out to the far end of the yard.
As he did so, Billy stifled a giggle. He watched as Kevin laid the egg down the thick grass, just before the threshold of the forest. The woods didn’t seem so ominous now. They were just some regular old woods. Trees and animals and birds and flowers. They were still a little creepy, yes, but what woods weren’t creepy at night?
And now, it truly was nightfall.
The sun had slid over the horizon, and only the faintest trace of its luminous fire kissed their world. All else was dark. A million stars shimmered above their heads, dancing their celestial dance, and the moon peered out from behind purple-tinged clouds.
Yeah, it was creepy, but it was just a forest.
He watched Kevin go about his silly charade, amused.
After laying the egg down, his brother clasped his hands together, closed his eyes and whispered a few words. Though he couldn’t hear the words, Billy smiled, impressed. It was quite a show he was putting on. Billy felt almost complimented that Kevin would put in so much effort just to give him a good scare.
He hid his smile as his brother turned and made his way back to the porch, empty handed now. The egg lay before the wall of black like a tiny sentinel.
“Come on. Let’s go inside, buddy.” Kevin said.
Billy got to his feet, stretched and groaned. They’d been sat out here a long time. “Kev, can I ask you something else?”
“Sure.”
“What’s the tradition?”
Kevin frowned. “I’m not sure how it works, or what it means. All I know is that the first born child of any household, under the age of eighteen, had to paint themselves onto an egg and offer it up to…it.”
“Like a sacrifice?” Billy asked, playing along. He was impressed by his own acting skills, as well.
“I don’t know. I think so. People here think the egg represents the human soul, and you have to offer yours up to the thing in the woods. It’s a mock effigy of sorts, they said. It’s not really your soul, that’s what the Indian taught them, but it’s what the egg represents that the thing out there desires. All I know is that if you don’t leave the egg out there by midnight, right by the foot of the woods, then it comes…
“It comes for you instead, Billy, and it takes the real thing.”
“Scary.” Billy said in a hushed tone.
Kevin frowned. “You believe me, right? I know it sounds crazy, but you said you’d believe me.”
Billy mustered up his best, most sincere face. “I do. I promise.
“Good.” Kevin smiled a little. It barely touched his eyes, but it was there nonetheless.
Great performance, Billy thought again.
“Let’s go inside, kiddo. We’re done here. We can watch a movie now.”
Together, they left the porch and made for the warmth and comfort of their home.
As Billy entered the house, he cast a quick glance over his shoulder and immediately felt like a fool. He knew this was all make-believe, but still…
Still he imagined he could feel those watchful eyes, nestled in the gathering dark.
3
Kevin had been sat by the window for the last hour.
Billy found the whole charade very amusing. Since coming indoors, they’d spent the remainder of the evening watching a movie; an old classic starring Peter Cushing that both boys had agreed was much better than most of the modern horror fare. They’d eaten popcorn, drank soda and laughed together at the shoddy special effects. Billy figured the teeth on the vampire had been purchased in a fancy dress shop, and the cape too, but the tall actor who played the count had really sold the role.
By the time the movie was done, Billy was tired.
He’d have liked nothing more than to crawl into bed and drift off to sleep, but that wasn’t an option. He was determined to let his brother’s little game play all the way out.
After all, Kevin had wasted his time with the egg painting and the outlandish spook story, so why shouldn’t he, in return, allow his brother to waste some time of his own?
Kevin had demanded they turn out the lights in their bedroom. He said he wanted to sit by the window in the dark, and watch the backyard. Billy, of course, had gone right along with him. Kevin peered out into the yard; the soft moonlight casting his face in a pale, translucent glow. He hadn’t moved position in at least ten minutes. His foot tapped rhythmically on the carpet as he stared out into the darkness of the Easter night.
Billy was laid back on his own bed, propped up by two pillows. In his hands he held his IPad. The game he was playing was barely holding his attention, but he was steadily growing more and more bored with the ruse.
How long did Kevin plan to keep this up for?
Billy supposed it didn’t matter. Looking at the clock by his bed, he noted that it was no two minutes till midnight. Kevin had said the ‘thing’ came for its prize at the stroke of the midnight hour, so soon, this would all be over.
Billy smiled.
It was time for him to play his hand.
He laid the IPad on his lap, clicking the ‘off’ button as he did so, and turned to his brother. Kevin was play-acting as though he was lost in his own world.
“Kevin?” Billy asked, breaking the prolonged silence.
His brother’s voice was hushed. He never turned to respond, and instead just stared out into the moonlit yard and the wall of trees beyond.
“Yeah?” he said.
“Do you see what time it is?”
“Yes.”
“I have something I have to tell you…”
“And what’s that?” Kevin asked, with little interest.
“I know you made that story up.”
“Huh?”
“I said, I know you made the story up. I’m twelve, Kev. I’m not a kid anymore. You almost had me fooled for a while. Almost, but not quite. I’m not as dumb as you think I am.”
“You said you believed me.”
Billy smiled in the darkness. “I lied.”
Kevin peered out the window. “It doesn’t matter. It’s almost time now. It’ll be here soon. It’ll take the offering and it’ll leave.”
“You can drop the act now, Kev.” Billy let the moment draw out, savoring it.
“It’s not an act.” Kevin’s tone was dead flat.
Billy sat up in his bed. “I can’t believe you thought I’d fall for it, but the jokes on you. I’ve been pretending this whole time that I was scared. You’re not the only one who can play act, you know.”
Kevin’s reaction was muted. “Whatever.”
Billy felt anger bubble up inside him. He’d hoped to get a better reaction that this. At the very least he’d hoped to make his brother laugh, or get mad, or…something. Anything but this.
Kevin just stared into the night, as though Billy’s words had no effect at all.
“Kevin, you can come away from the window now. Let’s go to bed. It’s late, and there’s nothing out there.” Billy swung his legs over the side of the bed and planted his feet on the carpet. He reached to the bedside cabinet and opened the small drawer.
“I even brought your dumb egg back in for you when you were showering. Figured you might want to keep it,” he said.
As Billy lifted the egg from the drawer, Kevin spun around on his seat, fast as lightning. Terror seemed to cast a burning light behind his horrified gaze, as his eyes fell on the egg.
Why was he still acting?
The joke was over.
He was acting, wasn’t he?
Billy felt the first sickening stab of real fear soak into his psyche. His brother’s face was a picture of horror. In t
he moonlight’s glow, he looked like a ghost. A wraith, etched forever in terrible torment.
Kevin screamed. “Why would you do that?!”
Billy flinched from his older sibling’s outrage. “D-do what?” he stammered.
Kevin’s eyes darted down to his wristwatch, tears welled in his eyes. He was trembling uncontrollably; his whole body seized in the grip of a terror that Billy realized, with a rising wave of purest dread, could only be real.
What was going on?
Billy felt sick.
“It’s too late!” The words came out of his brother’s mouth like a long, agonized moan, soaked in a hopeless despair.
Billy was shaking himself, now.
“I’m…I’m sorry!” he stammered, as his stomach flipped over on itself.
What had he done?
“You’ve killed me, Billy!”
“I…I’m sorry.” Billy begged. “I was only…”
The rest of Billy’s words stuck in his throat.
His mind reeled as stark blind terror wracked his body.
He was looking beyond his terrified brother, now.
Outside the window.
There was something out there.
There was something out there in the dark.
It was a shadow with shadows, and as Billy watched, frozen in shock, the dark figure rose up behind his brother, separated from Kevin by nothing but the fragile pane of glass.
Billy couldn’t make it out properly. The darkness clung to the impossible being like a second skin, but one thing was for sure.
It was not human.
Long, spindly appendages rose from the bulk of the black creature like the legs of a giant spider. There were more than Billy could count.
“B-Billy?” Kevin was crying openly, having seen the stark terror that gripped Billy. He never turned to face the looming thing outside their home, nor even made a move from the window as its vast shadow spread across the carpet like a hellish Rorschach, engulfing his own. It all happened so fast, and in his shock, Billy thought Kevin could no more move his body than the dead could shift their headstones from the depth of their sodden graves.
Consumed- The Complete Works Page 31