Night as a Catalyst: A Horror Anthology

by Chad Lutzke

  Kyler laughed. "Your mom thinks you’re allergic to everything good, doesn’t she?”

  “Nah, just chocolate. And if all it caused me was a rash, I’d eat it anyway.”

  “My mom will hook us up. She always does."

  Shawn nodded and rubbed his belly in anticipation. "Can't wait."

  Kyler looked around the fort excitedly. Blankets, pillows, and magazines littered the shed-sized tree house. He had wanted this for years—the freedom to camp with his best friend in the backyard fifteen feet above the ground. Being in it at night had a whole new feel. If they held still long enough, they could hear the night. The crickets. The silence. The creak of the wood that otherwise went unheard in the daylight. As the moon rose, it spilled through the cracks and roughly cut square holes of the tree house, lighting up the interior, yet not quite enough to retire the flashlights.

  From here, Kyler could see his dining room and part of the kitchen through the sliding glass door of the house. His mother paced in and out of view; her arms ending in flowered oven mitts. Kyler guessed she was making them cookies. His mom had a better understanding of a growing boy's needs and his sweet tooth than Shawn's mother did. On special occasions, filling up on soda, junk food, and baked sweets was not unheard of in his household. Moderation was Mrs. Tessal's motto, but when that day of moderation would come, it was sweets and MSG for miles. The stomach may suffer a hangover, and the taste buds work overtime, but it was a good time getting there.

  "I never realized just how many windows you can see in at night from up here," Shawn said as he contemplated the view. "Heck, if we get your dad's binoculars we could probably see in Suzie's bedroom."

  "Not cool, Shawn. You know I like her."

  "Yeah, okay. Sorry. It was just a joke, ya know."

  "Ha! Even if my dad would let us mess around with his binoculars, you'd be all about trying to sneak a peek at her, and you know it."

  "Yeah. You got me."

  The conversation ended with a few arm punches and belly laughs.

  Kyler had guessed right. Inside the house the first batch of his favorite peanut butter cookies were already cooling while the oven worked on more. A single quart of milk for the boys to share sat in the fridge until it was time to deliver the sugary feast. Mrs. Tessal's body language hinted she was having as much fun as her son on this day just preparing the baked goods. Anything to use her new oven. Mr. Tessal popped in the kitchen just long enough to grab a few cookies, chug from a gallon of milk, and be shooed out by the baker.

  Back in the fort, the boys were sprawled out flipping through old issues of Fangoria Magazine.

  They don't make them like they used to," Shawn said.

  "No, they sure don't. It's all CGI anymore."

  "Computers, Kyler. They're taking over the world."

  "Give me some prosthetics, Karo syrup and food coloring any day."

  "Romero is probably rolling over in his grave."

  Kyler gave Shawn a confused look. "George is still alive."

  Feeling stupid, Shawn returned the look but quickly recovered. "Or is he?"

  Laughter bounced off the wooden walls.

  A small breeze lifted the smell of the cooked peanut butter and flour through the window and up into the fort.

  "Ha! I knew it! Kyler shouted, startling Shawn.

  "What?"

  "Smell." Kyler closed his eyes and inhaled deeply.

  "Peanut butter cookies," Shawn responded with a smile. "I've never seen anyone bake quite like your, Mom. She really goes for it."

  "Yeah, especially with the new oven. Sometimes I think my old man bought her that just to keep her preoccupied while he vegges out in front of the TV."

  "Computers, Kyler. They're taking over!" This triggered another round of laughs.

  As the evening matured, the moon guarded the neighborhood in a blanket of blue; while in the tree house, gossip was slung, pages were flipped, and appetites were gained. Mrs. Tessal headed out back with the quart of milk and a Tupperware container full of cookies. She pulled a rope below the fort, and the other end tipped a small, rusty bell that struggled to make an audible ring.

  "Send down the bucket, boys. I've got goodies for you. Chocolate-free, Shawn."

  “Okay, thanks Mrs. Tessal.”

  Both boys hurried to the bucket. Kyler got to it first and slowly lowered it down to his mother. She placed the goods in the bucket and tugged on the bell again. Humoring the boys.

  "Thanks Mom!"

  Kyler pulled the care package up through the hole in the floor of the tree house and pulled out the contents. The milk was freezing cold. It would feel good going down on such a warm night.

  "Oh, and Kyler. No whizzing out the windows up there. If you guys need to use the restroom then you come inside. I'm leaving the slider unlocked for you."

  "Yes Ma'am." They both chuckled, knowing full well they'd be watering the lawn at some point.

  The cookies were still warm and chewy. While the boys carelessly ate, the open pages of Fangoria collected the small crumbs that dropped, while the bigger chunks acted as edible bookmarks. By the end of the feast, only drops of milk remained at the bottom of the quart, bellies were full, and veins rushed with sugar.

  "I'll be right back," said Kyler.

  "Where you going?"

  "I'll be right back." Kyler insisted.

  Shawn watched as Kyler hurried down the ladder and sprinted for the garage—the glow of the moon lighting the way. Moments later, Kyler returned holding something in his hands. He climbed the ladder and fed a pair of binoculars through the hole in the floor and pulled himself up.

  "Yes!" Shawn shouted.

  "No. We're not watching Suzie. This is for spying on every other house but hers."

  Shawn gave a disappointed look. He grabbed the binoculars and brought them to his eyes. At first everything was a blur. He lowered them and looked for a line of perspective, then brought them to his eyes once more. One street over he could see someone's living room illuminated by nothing but the glow of 100 yards of green football field being cast from a large flat screen. A man sat reclined in his chair, intermittently sipping on a beverage. A quick sweep around with the binoculars led to an open, well-lit garage on the other side of the street.

  "Woah! Who's that? She's so hot!" said Shawn.

  "Nuh uh. Let me see. Where?" Kyler snatched the binoculars from Shawn and searched intently for the hot female.

  "Over a little. In the garage. No shirt."

  Kyler searched frantically until he spotted the garage. A shirtless, overweight man sat at the end of his weight bench covered in sweat from lifting.

  "Awww..you jerk!" Kyler punched Shawn in the leg, who was too busy laughing to feel it.

  "Good night, boys!"

  They hadn't even heard Mrs. Tessal open the slider. Kyler dropped his dad's binoculars out of his mother's view.

  "Good night!" The boys said in unison.

  The house went dark, save for a dim kitchen light showing the way for any midnight trip to the bathroom. After recovering from the startle, they both wiped their brow symbolizing a close call.

  "Ya know, Kyler. Does Suzie even like you back?" Shawn asked.

  "Sure she does. Just the other day in school she asked me to stand by her in the lunch line."

  "She made you stand there to keep her place in line while she went and talked to Bill Weston."

  "You make it sound so..."

  "Platonic?"

  "No! You make it sound like I've got no chance at all. You don't see the way she looks at me."

  "Why don't you ask her out to a movie? Make it a scary one. She'll be all over you."

  Kyler lit up. "Good idea! They have that special showing of The Shining next week. She'll be all kinds of freaked out."

  "There ya go! Hey, maybe we could double date."

  Kyler laughed at the thought. "Who are you going to take? Your little sister?"

  Shawn's fist made contact with Kyler's shoulder. "Lame. I'll get som
ebody to go. Maybe that new girl."

  Kyler rubbed his arm. "Samantha?"

  "Yeah. Samantha. I'll ask her and we'll make it a double."

  "Good luck with that. She'll get freaked out by your horror fanboy self."

  "Nah. I'll tone it down."

  "No you won't. You’ll be chanting ‘red rum’ an hour before we even get to the theater."

  "You challenging me, bro?"

  Kyler puffed his chest out. "I challenge thee. If you get her to say yes, you can't say 'red rum' one time all night.

  "Here's Johnny!" Shawn gave his best Nicholson.

  "That either. You can't do any line from the movie."

  "All work and no play makes Shawn a dull boy."

  Kyler laughed. "You'll never make it."

  "Hey, technically that's not even a line in the movie."

  A light flicked on in the house next door, catching their attention. Kyler quickly raised the binoculars and watched his neighbor, Mrs. Wilson, open her fridge and search it.

  "What do old people do all day? Kyler asked. “I mean, Mrs. Wilson just shuffles around, feeds her cat, waters her flowers, and fills the birdfeeder. That can only take up so much of your time. What do they do the rest of the time?"

  Shawn lay down and got comfortable in his sleeping bag. "They nap. Nap and watch game shows, I think."

  Kyler turned around to see Shawn tucking himself in. "You going to sleep?"

  "Yeah. Sugar rush is gone, and I'm coming down."

  "Same. Those were some good cookies though." Kyler followed Shawn's lead and situated himself for sleep.

  "Yeah they were. Your mom is like the Stephen King of baked goods."

  "What does that even mean?"

  "I don't know." Shawn chuckled at himself. "I'm tired. G'night, Kyler."

  "G'night."

  The boys lay silent for a full minute before Shawn threw in the last joke of the evening. "Red rum!" An explosion of laughter traveled halfway down the block.

  As the crickets sang their lullaby, the boys drifted off into a satisfying sleep; safe within the four walls of their favorite place on earth.

  **

  Initially their slumber was not disturbed by the beam of light that shot down from the sky and into the backyard. The beam of light that left behind a perfectly black, round scar in the grass and two slender humanoids with skin that resembled that of a dolphin. The figures stood silent in the dark while a gelatinous layer of liquid formed around their feet and eventually up over their heads, as though sinking into an invisible pool of mucus.

  It was the smell of the burnt grass that stirred Kyler. Still half asleep and dreaming, his imagination got the best of him as he envisioned flames from below, threatening to lick his precious fort to death with him in it.

  Kyler pushed himself up and peeked out the makeshift window facing the back of the house. Both figures stood on the burnt ground; a blue ghostly aura around each one. Kyler rubbed the sleep out of his eyes and squinted, fighting through the blur. He squinted harder. The sight of two figures glowing blue in the backyard made little sense, even for one who was still half asleep. Once the blur had gone and he was fully alert, fear dried Kyler's mouth and gripped his throat. He reached down behind himself without looking and struggled to make contact with some part of Shawn.

  "Shawn, wake up," he whispered, barely audible even to himself.

  Shawn remained undisturbed. The figures below stood facing the house without movement.

  "Shawn!" Kyler raised his whisper just barely, afraid he'd be heard from below.

  "Shawn!" A little louder.

  Concerned that last one was too loud, Kyler ducked down hiding under the window. He kicked hard at Shawn but missed. Instead he hit the empty container of cookies. The container tumbled around for an eternity, like dice on a craps table making the decision of a house foreclosed or a new beginning.

  Afraid to look, Kyler shut his eyes tight as though it would help him hide if the figures came tearing up the ladder.

  Please don't hear me. Please don't hear me.

  The container seemed ridiculously loud. They had to have heard it. Whoever they were. No, whatever they were. They would be climbing the ladder any second. Kyler opened his eyes and looked at Shawn sleeping soundly next to him. He needed to wake him but dared not utter even another whisper.

  Why are they glowing?

  Something else was wrong. It was too quiet. Even the crickets had stopped their song. Kyler could almost hear the rush of his own blood pumping.

  Can they hear that? Can they hear my fear?

  The silence was maddening. He wanted to yell just to make sure he hadn't gone deaf. But fear of the mysterious figures below stopped him. Before Kyler had a chance to cry out in terror, the familiar sound of the sliding glass door assured him his hearing was still intact. Kyler opened his eyes and darted them around the dark tree house as though it sharpened his hearing. The slider closed.

  Had they gone inside and shut it or just opened and closed it?

  Slowly, Kyler raised his head just far enough to see the back of his house. The kitchen light his mother had left on was now off. Each window black. He raised his head slightly in order to scan the yard. They were gone.

  They're in my house!

  Kyler turned to shake Shawn awake, when a bright light bounced off the fort walls causing Kyler to squint. He turned back to see his house lit from the inside with a vibrant light, reminiscent of fluorescence but with a less offensive brilliance. The dining room table had been cleared. His mother's naked body now lay in place of the flower centerpiece and matching salt and pepper shakers.

  Too scared to move, Kyler sat and stared. Too many horror movies. I’m done.

  He shut his eyes tight in the hopes of opening them to a morning filled with daylight and only the memory of a nightmare. But his stomach twisted with fear when his eyes revealed the sky was still dark and the glowing figures were now inspecting his mother's body with disturbing intent—poking and prodding. One of the things stood behind the head of his mother, pulling at her skin and muscles, resembling the work of a masseuse.

  Kyler contemplated all he had witnessed and struggled for understanding. Aliens? He grabbed for the binoculars and focused them in on the dining room. Through the lenses, there was no longer any question as to whether they were aliens. The overall appearance of them was stereotypical to that of those he had seen in books. But the magnification from the binoculars brought into view details that no pencil sketch in any book ever showed him. The skin was taut and glistened with a wet membrane. The large, oval eyes were set with color-changing pupils that floated in black pools of liquid. They reminded Kyler of the old magic 8-ball toy he had seen once. Kyler looked at their hands, anticipating four, or maybe even five, long fingers. Instead the arms split in two where hands should be—each side forming a digit different than the other. The end of one resembled a suction cup, while the other was long and tapered like the butt of a wasp.

  Kyler needed to wake his friend but couldn't take his eyes away. "Shawn! Wake up! Shawn! Shawn!" He gave a courageously louder whisper each time.

  Shawn stirred with a mumble. "Whuu"

  "Shawn, look!"

  "Huhh?" Shawn didn't hear the urgency in Kyler's voice. His mouth opened but his eyes did not and so continued to give in to the slumber that pulled at him.

  Kyler's eyes widened as he watched one of the aliens use its tapered digit to incise the bottom of his mother's feet, across her heels, and up her Achilles. The skin split wide but no blood ran. The creature's other digit seemed to either be cauterizing the wound or siphoning any spilled blood.

  The alien standing behind his mother's head tugged hard at her hips and the skin of her legs came loose and detached from her lower extremities like a pair of pants still attached at the waist.

  It was then that Kyler dropped his father's binoculars and passed out.

  ***

  Daylight broke Kyler's sleep. Shawn had beat him by half an hour an
d now sat up reading a magazine. Kyler's face changed from confusion to fear as he bolted upright and questioned his friend.

  "Shawn! Tell me you saw that last night!"

  "Uhh..see what?"

  "The blue things and the light and the yard?"

  "I think you're still asleep, Kyler." Shawn laughed hard at his disheveled friend.