When Winter Comes | Book 4 | Masks of Bone

by Willcocks, Daniel

  Damien’s face creased in pained concentration. “There are more of them, aren’t there? Those monsters. They’re everywhere.”

  Alex glanced down at the boy, sorrow in his eyes. “I don’t know what to tell you.” It was an honest response, and somehow the boy understood. “We need to get somewhere out of this cold. How well do you know this school?”

  Damien tucked his hands beneath his armpits. “I don’t know this building. Third grade is across the quad. We’re not allowed this way. That’s for the bigger kids.”

  Alex studied the door. He gave it a gentle nudge. It rocked in its frame. “Do you know the teachers here?”

  “No. Why?”

  Alex took a step back. “I just don’t want you grassing on me for what I’m about to do.”

  “What’s grassing—”

  Damien shrunk and covered his ears as Alex kicked at the door. The first kick was weak, his aching legs barely able to gather strength. By the fourth kick, a splinter of a crack appeared near the lock. The glass panel located in the center of the door shattered. Alex kicked twice more before the door finally bounced and swung open.

  He stepped back and examined his handiwork. “Not bad. Not as dramatic as it is in the films. Was kind of hoping the door would come away first time, fall backwards, and hit the ground.”

  Damien unfurled, scared and concerned. “Mum says that’s vandalism.”

  Alex bit back his retort—mama ain’t around no more. He offered a hand to Damien who took it readily. “Look, Damien. I can’t promise you that I’m going to be able to protect you from anything we find ahead in the school. But if you stick with me and do exactly as I say, we may just be able to make it out of this alive. Do you understand?”

  Damien turned from Alex to the darkened corridor, dully lit in the glow of emergency lighting that, even now, flickered like the precursor to some horror flick. “Do you really think your boy is hiding somewhere in the school?”

  Alex considered this. He cocked an ear, listening for any sign of movement or company. The only sound to return to him was the howling of the wind. “I have to, kid. I have to.”

  With Damien holding one hand, and the rifle clutched tightly in the other, Alex and Damien entered the school.

  5

  Cody Trebeck

  They lost themselves in darkness, the failing torchlight leaving only the ghosts of what they’d seen behind.

  Sophie, Travis, Brandon, and Cody called out for each other, their voices mingling in the dark. Somewhere in that cacophonous din was the shrieking hiss of the creatures in the tunnel. Cody found Sophie’s hand and pulled her away, his other hand shoving the phone in his pocket and finding Davidson’s box cutter. It felt good to have something sharp, though with their vision compromised there was no way of knowing which way to turn to escape. Already, he had lost his sense of direction as he urged Brandon and Travis to run after them.

  Sophie screamed, loud enough to cause his eardrums to pop. Something grabbed his collar and pulled him back and, for the slightest of moments, skeletal fingers scratched the back of his neck. He spun, slashed with the box cutter. The blade notched onto something hard. Sophie urged him away. Brandon’s heaving breaths followed alongside.

  Another screech, unmistakably made by the creatures. No human could make that sound. Cody traced his fingers along the wall, using the cold, damp surface to guide him forward. Occasionally they’d stumbled over fallen debris, but it seemed that they were at least giving the creatures a run for their money and gaining ground.

  Something heavy fell. A meaty thwack against the stone. Lungs extinguishing breath. “Keep going!” Travis called, voice laced with pain. “Go!”

  Cody slowed down, facing behind them as he continued to jog backwards. “Keep running. We can do this.”

  Sophie, undeterred, tugged Cody onwards. Brandon continued running and bowled into Cody, sending them both sprawling to the ground.

  “Come at me, fuckers!” Travis bellowed amidst the chaos, followed swiftly by the thudding of something metal striking bone.

  It was then that Cody remembered the hammer Sophie had selected from the pile. She clutched at his clothes and dragged him to his feet, then patted her pockets. “Son of a bitch stole my hammer.”

  Travis laughed, the tunnel broadcasting each note of mania that laced his words. He was gone now, lost in the moment, his anger turning to humour, transforming to determination as he fought the beasts in the dark. Cody tried to imagine him spinning with the hammer, whirling around and embedding the metal head into their skulls.

  Another screech rang out.

  “Let’s go,” Cody hissed. He found Brandon’s hand and helped him to his feet. The three sprinted away from the din, listening for anything that might be following. Cloaked by the darkness, there would be no way to tell what was behind or in front of them. The creatures had approached without their knowledge, snuck up on them without giving away their position. He was certain they could do it again.

  “Bet that one hurt, you bastards!” Travis sang. “Eat steel, you freaky bitches!”

  The tunnel seemed endless. Travis’ cries rang out as he held the creatures at bay. Cody wished that he could see it. Wished he could watch Travis’ final stand as he attempted to barricade the creatures from pursuing.

  He would fail, of course. Cody had no doubt. The night had yet to grant them any reprieve from the horrors, and he was sure that there were many surprises left in store. All Cody needed to do was keep running, to get out of these stinking tunnels and find a way to hide from the beasts. That was his one objective now: to get Sophie and Brandon to safety—whatever it took.

  The darkness absorbed them. Travis exchanged his words for grunts. Soon the madness stilled, and they all knew then that Travis was gone. There was no crowning glory, no final moment of power granted to him. One minute he was standing, the next he had been dealt with. Even in the darkness they knew that much.

  Sophie gave a muted sob.

  They kept running.

  They ran for what felt like hours. There was no way to tell how far they’d come, or if they were even making any progress. They could have been running in circles for all they knew. There was no sign of the creatures anymore, no sound, no intimation that they were in pursuit.

  And that was the worst of it all. They knew that if they stopped, they’d only increase their chances of capture, but who knew what these things could do in the dark? Who knew the unholy powers granted to them by the shadows? Cody’s chest hurt, and he could only imagine what Brandon was going through—Brandon, who was falling behind them with every step.

  “There’s got to be a way out,” Sophie huffed. “There’s got to be?”

  Cody didn’t answer. His attention had been drawn by the tiniest speck of something in the distance. A break in the darkness. After another beat of running, the speck grew to a dull light in his vision. “Are you seeing what I’m seeing?”

  Sophie confirmed that she was. They doubled their pace, Cody so focused on the light that he didn’t realise that Brandon was no longer with them. The tunnel had fallen silent behind them both.

  The light grew brighter with every step. Not a blinding light like that given from the fluorescents of bulbs, but a vast contrast to the enveloping darkness from which they sought their escape. Next to the shaft of light was an iron ladder, the edges and steps sporting patches of rust and corrosion. Without waiting to test it, Cody nudged Sophie ahead and she scaled the ladder with ease. She reached toward the light and shoved against the hatch. The hinges creaked and the thick wooden hatch swung open.

  The light stung their eyes, but Sophie climbed out without hesitation. Cody followed swiftly after, not taking in their surroundings as they stared into the square of black darkness, only then realising that one of their team was missing.

  “Brandon!” Cody cried. “Brandon, come on!”

  There was no reply. His fingers gripped the edge of the hatch while Sophie’s hands pulled at his waist and
tried to bring him back. There was no sign that anything else was down there. Their own echoes had faded, and all that greeted them was darkness and silence.

  “Fuck,” Cody muttered. “Brandon!”

  “He’s gone,” Sophie said, her words dry and hollow. “Close it and help me block them. He’s gone.”

  Cody remained at the edge of the hatch while Sophie got to work finding something to plug the hole. Something heavy dragged across the floor. There was a thud. Sophie uttered, “Shit.”

  With difficulty, Cody pulled his eyes from the darkness. Sophie was pushing a heavy wooden display cabinet across the floor. There had once been delicate glass panelling on the front, designed to let the owners of the cabinet see the treasures inside. Now, all that was left were empty shelves caked in dust.

  The unit was stuck against a thick bundle of cloth on the floor. Cody rose and shifted the cloth, before helping Sophie drag the mammoth piece of furniture the remaining distance.

  As they neared the hatch, Sophie told Cody to close the entry back up. Cody stared down into the darkness, unable to bring himself to do so. Sealing the tunnel would only mean accepting that Brandon was gone. Hammering the final nail in the coffin.

  “Cody… Please. Before they come.”

  Cody sighed and gave a gentle nod. He moved to the hatch and was halfway through closing the lid when the voice barked at them from somewhere in the darkness. “No! Please! Wait!”

  The footsteps were explosive, hammering in beats against the stone tunnel. Cody found it impossible to believe that they hadn’t been able to hear them a moment ago, and he wondered if there was maybe some magic at play here. That the creatures might have been able to absorb the sound and play with their senses.

  “Cody!”

  “Brandon!” Cody called, falling onto the flat of his stomach. He lay at the edge of the hatch and reached a hand down. Brandon came into sight, staggering towards the ladder. He grabbed each wrung, his sweating palms struggling to find purchase, the iron creaking beneath his weight, but soon Cody had him. Cody assisted him to the top, and soon Brandon was free. He flopped face-first to the ground and crawled away from the hatch, scrambling to a nearby wall.

  Cody made for the hatch lid, when a pale white arm with dark fingers shot out from the shadows and grabbed his wrist. The creature yanked him forward, his body slipping back into the hole, until Sophie managed to catch his ankle.

  Cody cried out, the grip on his wrist like a vice made of ice. The fingers were slender and long. They could easily wrap twice around his hands. The texture was rough and dry, like papier-mâché, or the delicate, brittle structure of a wasp’s nest after the colony has flown on.

  Sophie called for Brandon’s aid, but Cody had no idea if he was coming. The wendigo’s arm stretched into pure darkness, not even the light from the hatch enough to shed illumination on the creature. The bone mask hovered in the darkness, only a foot or so from his face. The fetid stench of rot and death worked its way to him, and he knew in that moment that he had to act.

  Cody reached back and found the box cutter. He flicked out the blade and slashed at the wendigo’s arm. The blade thunked against the creature’s bony arm, only managing to form a small notch.

  Undeterred, Cody tried again. He slipped another inch into the darkness. Somehow, he knew that he was surrounded now, and all of the minions were waiting. He could sense them in the darkness, waiting for their master to complete the work. He hacked again, a strange rattling cry coming from the creature’s throat.

  He slipped another inch.

  “Nooo!” Cody cried, this time stabbing the tip of the blade into the hand which clutched him. The blade embedded in the bone and, with a twist of the box cutter, the bone fractured. Another wrenching turn in the other direction, and something cracked. The finger broke free, and the wendigo loosened its grip.

  It all happened so fast that Cody was still pushing down on the blade when the wendigo retreated. The box cutter drove into his forearm, gouging a wide gash in the meaty center. He groaned in pain, then pushed against the ladder as Sophie pulled his legs, both doing whatever they could to help bring him back to the surface.

  A haunting shriek. The minions appeared from the darkness, coming for Cody. He made it out of the hole and grabbed the lid on his way out, slamming it shut as they thudded against the wood. He pushed himself away, relieved to find that Brandon was already helping Sophie push the unit the final few feet of distance it needed to cover the hatch.

  The creatures thumped against the wood.

  They squealed.

  They screeched.

  The unit covered the hole.

  They stood back and stared at the floor, each waiting in silent trepidation for the next terrible thing to happen to them. The edge of the hatch could be seen beneath the unit. Tiny holes allowed the frustrated cries of the wendigo to escape. Holding his chest and grimacing, Brandon dropped to his knees and leaned over the holes. His nose wrinkled. From his pocket he drew a bottle of something that Cody couldn’t identify. He poured the contents through the tiny pores until the bottle was empty. He discarded the bottle, then produced a lighter from inside his jacket.

  “Stand back,” he gasped, eyes struggling to focus. He ignited the lighter and touched the ember to the liquid.

  The liquid caught instantly, the fire rushing with an audible whoosh as the liquid caught alight. Orange and yellow light danced from the holes as the shrieks and cries increased in urgency, filling the room with their pain.

  Brandon patted his sleeve, the only part of him which had caught the fire. He shuffled back on his ass until he found the wall. He rested his head against the stone, eyes fixed on the hole.

  Sophie looked at Cody, then Brandon, her own chest rising and falling. “Did we get them? Is it over?”

  Cody chewed his lip, unsure what to say.

  Brandon, however, shook his head. “I don’t think so. I think the party’s only just starting.”

  He clutched his chest as a fresh wave of pain took over.

  6

  Naomi Oslow

  The house was quiet. Naomi liked that.

  She helped Tori through the front door, the same door where Tori had stood and waited be let in by her sister on innumerable occasions, but never once imagined it might be under these circumstances.

  Tori was a mess. There was a welt on her head, her nose was busted, and blood crusted in her hair. Her eyes struggled to focus, and over the last few hundred meters of their trek through the blizzard, Naomi wondered if she’d be able to carry her the final stretch.

  What are big sisters for, if not for times like these?

  She eased Tori onto the sofa, propping her head up on a pillow before making her way around the house and checking that everything was as it should be. All of the windows were intact, the doors were still locked and, most importantly, Oscar was still asleep.

  She stood in his doorway, for a moment simply watching the rising and fall of her darling boy’s chest beneath the covers. He had always reminded her of Donavon. That was the best thing he had left behind, a reminder of the man that Donavon had once been. Before the drinking. Before the…

  She lowered her head and turned from the room. Downstairs, she was surprised to find Tori sitting upright on the sofa, watching her as she approached. She silently passed Tori and poured herself a drink of whiskey—Abraham’s Nectar.

  Donavon watched from the bottom of the stairwell. A silent specter. Arms folded, a slight crook to his smirk.

  “Are you going to take that thing off?” Tori asked.

  Naomi hadn’t even realised the skull was still on her head. She placed her drink down and carefully eased the mask off. The antlers fanned out from the crudely carved holes. She suddenly felt naked. Exposed.

  She examined the mask, taking in the contours of the skull. Once, this had been her husband’s head. Once, she had kissed those lips. Once, he had sat across from her at the dinner table, laughed as she admonished him for the flake o
f spinach caught between those molars.

  “Naomi?”

  Naomi placed the skull back on its hook on the wall. For a moment, it swung precariously, until it found its equilibrium. The empty hollows of the eyes watched them.

  Naomi took a sip of her drink and sat on the arm of the couch, eyes downcast, lost in thought.

  “Naomi?”

  Tori’s gaze was intense. Demanded answers. Yet, Naomi was happy to wait for a question.

  Tori searched for the right words to say. “What was that back there? Those… things…”

  “The wendigos,” Naomi clarified, catching Tori off-balance.

  “Right. The wendigos. How did you know to come? How did you know to find me?”

  Naomi took a long breath and sipped from her drink. The amber liquid burned on the way down, warming the parts of her insides that the minimal heat of the house couldn’t reach. She could see why Donavon had so easily lost himself to this vice.

  She glanced past Tori to Donavon’s ghost. He leaned against the bannister.

  “It’s… complicated.”

  “More complicated than this?” Tori rose suddenly, wobbling a little as her hand moved to her head. Her voice rose in volume, the results of the past few hours tumbling out from between her lips. “I want to know what the fuck is going on, Naomi. I’ve been attacked in my own goddamn home by freakish creatures from another dimension. I’ve had a man die in my living room, eaten from the inside out. I’ve traipsed through a fucking blizzard, saved by a man I’d never met before, only to think we’d found safety and get attacked all over again. Not only that, but the man who I thought would eventually leave his wife and go steady with me decides to end things and then hunts me down in the middle of the storm to drag me back like some Neanderthalic Tarzan so that he can parade me around to his colony of fucked up bone creatures and celebrate the spoils. Next thing I know, my own fucking sister appears, wearing a human skull and blasts half of the creatures into oblivion. Do they chase her? No. They don’t. Yet, for some reason they won’t leave me the fuck alone.” Tori fell to her knees, eyes red and puffy. There were no more tears left to spill. “So, please tell me. What the fuck is going on out there?”