“Yeah, sure. A coven that worships things with pentagram faces. You might wanna grow some balls.” Jason dropped the star-headed Mary and wiped his hands on his jeans. “Let’s see what else is here.”
They searched the forest floor and found a few more of the plaster human-headed Marys, but no more star-heads. Several of the ceramic crucifixes had been used for target practice. They hung crookedly from rusty nails in the trees, and judging by the pitted bark, a shotgun was involved at some point.
“You think the cops know about this?”
Jason snorted. “Probably just rednecks target shooting. Nothing illegal about that.”
Adam persisted, emboldened by his fear. “What about star-faced Mary? Hillbilly arts and crafts? And tonight of all nights?”
“There’s nothing against the law about arts. Or even crafts. We don’t know when this happened so you can’t blame Halloween. Some drunk inbreds were just shooting at Christian garage sale crap after running out of Rainier beer cans. You scared?” Jason was bored and wanted to head back.
Adam looked into the inky depths of the woods. The world was a shadow as far as he could see. An expanse of forest scents, the insinuation of hidden alcoves and dark glens waiting to be discovered.
“No. I’m not scared.”
Jason tossed his branch into the foliage where it made a louder and lengthier than expected rustling.
“Good. Didn’t wanna have to hold your hand on the way back. We’d better get going before Satanists take naked pics of Vince.”
Vince floated in the cesspool of space.
Bobbed on foul currents past minor planets, chunks of meteoroids, flotsam and jetsam sloshing in the black currents of infinity. The universe was a septic system. Stars floated in a murky flow only to be dumped down drains, flushed to earth where they gushed into a secret glade tucked away in the forest. Here a quiet presence wandered, its head a blue nimbus glowing like a bleeding star.
(Something awful will come through the window)
Vince woke up. He had fallen asleep on the couch with the TV still on. Pepto-Bismol churned in his stomach. He contemplated calling his mom to come pick him up. He was sticky with sweat, fever throbbed dully behind his eyes.
The voice must have been a combination of his dream and the TV. It sizzled like wet electricity in his memory. He usually remembered his nightmares, especially the recent Satan populated ones, but this one was elusive. Slippery like the wraiths in the deeper dungeon levels of his video game.
But why had he heard a voice?
The Intellivision was paused.
He heard someone talking again, a mumbling that popped like water splashed on hot grease.
But there were words in there, something coherent though he couldn’t decipher the content. The sound seemed to be coming from the shed out back. He peered through the window. Were there trick-or-treaters out there? Adam had insisted nobody ever came this far into the boonies to beg for candy.
He jumped when something banged against the back door.
Adam and Jason were relieved to see the jack-o’-lantern on the porch steps. The boys were comforted by the sight of Vince at the window even if the flickering TV behind him cast a strange sapphire colored halo around his head and stretched his shadow further than it should. The back door was locked. Adam didn’t remember locking it. He knocked loudly.
A few moments passed before Vince opened the door. “You losers scared the shit outta me. How’d it go?”
Jason threw his hands up. “Pointless. But we did find a buttload of statues shot all to hell.”
“Really? Like bored hunters or something?”
“Probably. Though Adam thinks it was King Diamond.” Jason laughed.
“Shut up ass-wad. The woods get pretty thick back there. Couldn’t even find Stanton’s house.” Adam unzipped his coat and walked down the hall to the kitchen.
“Weird. Oh yeah, before I forget, why didn’t you tell me your dad was coming by?” Vince asked.
“Because he’s not. I already told you he’s at work.” Adam opened the fridge and grabbed a soda.
“There was someone out back. Thought it was trick-or-treaters but then I heard someone talking in the shed.” Vince insisted.
“No you didn’t. There’s nobody else here. Just us two, plus one retard.” Jason slurred his last few words in an exaggerated attempt to mimic someone with Down Syndrome.
“Way to be an asshole. I heard someone talking out there.”
Adam set his soda down on the kitchen counter. “My dad works on his radios in there. Maybe he left one on.”
“It did kinda sound like radio station interference.”
“Mystery solved. Did you go check yet?” Jason pointed to the back door.
“It’s cool. Adam’s right. It was a radio.”
“You didn’t check? Hey, Vince is afraid of a ghetto blaster. Who here’s not a pussy?”
“Don’t be a dick Jas’,” Adam said.
“He can’t help being himself,” Vince joked. “Hold on. Let me get my shoes.”
The boombox in the shed was turned off. An electrical odor like soldered metal clung to the air but the various radio components and tools were still neatly arranged on the work table. There was no evidence of anyone having been there recently. Adam kept glancing towards the black rectangle of the shed’s entrance.
“We done?” Jason asked.
“Weird. Don’t know what you heard Vince. Had to be one of these radios.” Adam reached into his jacket pocket and realized his sister’s drawing was gone. He looked around the shed floor but it was nowhere in sight.
“What’s up?” Vince asked.
“I lost something.”
“What?” Vince sensed Adam was more worried than he let on.
“A drawing. You guys mind helping look for it? It’s just a piece of paper with a cartoon on it.”
His friends could tell it was important to Adam so they didn’t ask any more questions. They walked back near the house to search within the porch light’s radius. Adam knew he could’ve lost it anywhere between here and the graveyard of broken messiahs, but he sure as hell was not walking all the way back to that place by himself.
Adam moved away from the shed beyond its light source, watched Vince and Jason idly browse. His flashlight failed to pick up the glare of anything resembling a piece of paper. He walked a few more yards into the woods, looked back at his home. If the shadows moving in the kitchen were any indication Jason and Vince had already given up. “Jesus, guys. Sorry to take 3-minutes of your time.” He mumbled to himself.
He was about to call it quits as well when he saw a blue light floating in the blackness. His first thought was of nature documentaries and the bulb at the end of some deep sea creature’s tentacle.
Must be Jason screwing around with his lightsaber. Good ol’ predictable Jason had decided to play another prank.
But the light wasn’t in the elongated shape of a saber, it was more like a glowing ball the size of a fist. Maybe Jason had taken the plastic blade part off and was using the handle as a flashlight. Even so, Adam couldn’t imagine how Jason had managed to get the light to float so high up in the air.
“Hey Jason!”
The orb jumped up and down like an agitated animal, then ascended as if whatever was holding it had scuttled up a tall tree. The profound depths of the woods made it difficult to gauge just how far away it was.
The blue light disappeared.
Adam remembered Jason had a red lightsaber.
He froze. A faint static crinkling sound like power lines in cold weather permeated the air.
“I’m heading back to my house moron!”
Something attempting to tread lightly through the leaves despite its bulk gave up any pretense of stealth and broke into a gallop. There was an uncomfortably long stretch between each tread— either Jason had impossibly lanky legs or he was covering a vast distance by hopping. A chittering sound flowed towards Adam like liquid pushed ahead of a
massive underwater object.
Adam turned his flashlight off. His surroundings slowly congealed into focus. The house was just down the slope to his left, behind the enormous oak tree that blocked the porch light from illuminating much beyond the trunk. If he ran he could make it to the driveway in half a minute or less.
But he couldn’t run as fast as he wanted. The branches whipped against his face and some were thick enough to do major damage. He slowed to a brisk walk and held his right forearm up to prevent any stray twigs from hitting him in the eyes.
Once he reached the outer edge of the porch light he’d formulated a plan to lock all the doors and keep Jason outside for an hour or more. Give him a taste of his own medicine.
A silhouette further down the hill moved from behind one tree to another.
“Screw you, Vince! This isn’t funny!”
The figure peeked around the trunk. Vince must be wearing a tattered glow-in-the-dark Halloween mask that emitted a blue haze like the daikaiju’s atomic breath on the black light poster thumb- tacked to his bedroom ceiling.
Someone had extinguished the candle in the jack-o’-lantern near the back door.
The kitchen window curtains parted slightly as someone walked by inside the house. Through the brief gap Adam saw Jason, head tilted back as if he were laughing at a joke. Probably his own.
Something shattered Adam’s right arm.
The blow forced his ruined limb into his face. His forehead split from the impact of the jagged ulna. Bright azure stars filled his head.
Adam’s limp body scraped across the ground away from the porch light deeper into the woods until whatever had pulled him away from the house released him. The only sound he could manage was a whimper. He tried to sit up but his body had a mind of its own.
A patch of sky opened. Unique constellations spun like coriolis deflected debris. I’m going into shock. That must be why the stars don’t look right.
Adam saw bone poking through his jacket sleeve. Wet white and shining in the night air.
The buzzing sound increased, the woods submerged in a hum like the nervous crackle of insects in a disturbed nest. His head lolled over, the mossy ground cool against his cheek.
Adam saw Dana’s folded drawing a few feet away. It was partially covered by a clump of moss. He began to cry.
His weeping turned hysterical when something enormous picked him up and spoke in a voice scoured by time,
Ready to play the Naked Movie Star game?
“You hear that?” Jason looked out the window but couldn’t see anything beyond the black pane.
“What? Adam find his drawing?” Vince took a sip from his soda.
“Don’t know.” Jason walked to the back door, turned the hallway light off, cupped his hands against the window. “Whole lotta nothin’ out there.”
Adam stepped into view.
He was naked but still wearing shoes. The porch light glistened off of his skin. His neck hung at an odd angle. Leaves and dirt caked his face and chest.
“Holy shit,” Vince gasped.
Jason frantically tried to open the door. Panic made him fumble. “Call an ambulance!”
Adam swayed in place, tried something that clumsily replicated a smile. A tinny tingle of a voice,
Trick-or-treat guys!
Vince grabbed Jason’s arm, his face a stark exhibition of fear. “It’s not Adam.”
He couldn’t fully explain why he was so certain Adam wasn’t Adam (Something awful), he couldn’t use his dreams as evidence to convince himself much less Jason (Through the window), but he knew he was right.
“What the hell Vince! Adam’s hurt!” Jason looked around the kitchen for the cordless phone.
C’mon guys! We’re gonna play the game now!
“It isn’t him Jas’. Look at his mouth.”
“Dammit Vince I—” Jason moved to shove Vince aside but stopped when a young girl stepped out of the woods.
Her naked body had been repeatedly slashed, skin slathered with black blood from chin to shins. Both the girl’s and Adam’s mouths began to chatter. A blue glow frothed between their teeth.
“This isn’t happening.” Vince couldn’t accept that Stanton’s daughter was here, couldn’t believe that this was the same Adam he’d known since kindergarten. He just wanted to be a child again when all he had to worry about was how late his parents would let him stay up.
Something moved in the woods. Ambiguous forms darker than the night sky shifted deep within. Vince was certain the encroaching wave of cobalt blue clouds was rearranging the position of the stars.
“Vince, I swear I’ll kill you if this is some stupid payback prank.” Jason backed away from the door.
“I must’ve picked up their interference in my sleep.” When Jason looked at him with complete incomprehension, Vince whispered, “It’s something worse than a conspiracy of Satanists.”
The two boys pushed the dining room table against the door then threw the chairs on top for good measure. Jason saw the cordless phone on top of the microwave and grabbed it as they ran to Adam’s bedroom for sanctuary. Inside, they wedged a chair under the door handle and pushed the bookshelf in front of the only window.
“The phone won’t work.” Jason’s voice was high pitched and trembling.
In the chaos of barricading the room neither one heard the front door break or the rasp of the table sliding across the linoleum floor. They didn’t hear footsteps stumbling down the hall like broken toddlers learning to walk.
The bedroom door shook.
“What are they?” Jason screamed.
Vince couldn’t find the right words to explain how these intruders had prepared for their arrival by softening up the populace, making this world susceptible to cult hysteria. Couldn’t describe how something had successfully plotted to disguise the arrival of the unfathomable.
The chair buckled, collapsed. The door flew open.
Stanton’s daughter stood in the hallway behind Adam, flashes emitting from her mouth like the spark of wintergreen candy chewed in the dark. Adam stepped into the bedroom but his shadow was all wrong.
He moved incorrectly, like a bad movie special effect, the human eye catching the fact it wasn’t Adam but a costume or mechanical puppet. Vince was grateful that whatever was actually responsible for inhabiting Adam remained out of sight, kindly sparing them an impression of its size.
“Oh Adam, oh no.” Vince’s voice was gentle, heartbroken, almost apologetic.
Jason’s hands were shaking violently as if he were flicking water off his fingers. “Oh sweet Lord there it is. Their mouths are opening wrong. Oh God here it is.” The collar of his Celtic Frost t-shirt was soaked from his crying.
“Oh Adam, oh—” and Vince never felt so alone or so sad in all his 13-years. He longed to believe that this was all just some human threat, that Halloween wasn’t a liminal time for the realms of the unknown to bleed into the realms of the known. These things had been oh so clever in drawing attention away from their machinations by concocting Satanic panic hysteria.
Subterfuge for their inevitable visit.
The world tilted. An ocean colored shadow flowed to the corner of the room knocking the bookshelf on its side and exposing the window. A low bass vibration shook the air, the sound of deep time. A blue light sluiced through the clouds, an invitation for something ancient to crawl through the open sewers of the sky.
Adam spoke but the sound didn’t match his mouth’s movements.
Ready to play the Naked Movie Star game?
Jason started screaming as the urine stain on his pants spread.
The room was as cold as the vacuum of space. The thing failing at pretending to be Adam stared back at them with its cerulean gaze, the same color as the plaster of star-headed Mary’s robes in the forest, a celestial hue that filled their heads with another’s mind as Vince continued to plead oh Adam, oh Adam, oh Adam until their mouths and eyes and heads overflowed with that peculiar humming blue starlight and neit
her boy spoke with their own voice ever again.
SCARCELY HAVE THEY BEEN PLANTED
I ain’t nothin’ but dung clay sculpted by the Potter’s Hand. Ain’t nothin’ but seed cultivated and done sown by the Lord. Been made not so smart on accounts a my bein’ dumb so’s I don’t let worldly things corrupt. I’m grateful for this. I’m grateful for the Garden, even though the strangeness happens hereabouts.
Strange likes the time my aunty been only shortly dead when I seen her leaped out at the cool gray clays. Belly flopped ‘cross the grass like a fat tadpole jumped from puddled mud. Sinked head first into what she’d called the “fertile loam”.
That means the good dirt.
Right into them award winning melons patch. Aunty always fretted over those gourds.
Collette and Sammy helped poke about the garden, but we were without findin’. Collette opinionated that since aunty was no longer of this world, and the family done dirted her in the cemetery plot long befores, there ain’t no good reason I seen her all naked and flopped about. So these days nobody regards my opinionating such ‘cause I have the problems with bein’ slow.
So I was waryin’ that day when I was basketing plums. When I seen the stranger staring at the compost heap. Know she shouldn’t be inside the fences.
She was going under and overs the mulch with her hands. To let steams out. Under and overs. Plums was too ripe and syrup so much the bees came flizzing like hot deerflies.
Don’t like that.
The new lady was the prettiest I ever done seen. Hair colored like pennies at the bottom a the wishing pool when the sun is just so. Long like the house vines, but razored on one side. I was closer and seen she gots the scar-head, pushed in like a dented tin a blackberries. She was doing such a lovely song I was ashamed for the interruptin’.
Voice a birds. All like the choir sings the prettiest.
Her sounds brung the rememberin’ of wakin’ up in that compost long ago. I was a small girl way back. Dug outta the compost from bottoms on up. It done been a right ruckus. But I don’t remember so good on account my skull is thin. Likes loose snake skin.
Alectryomancer and Other Weird Tales Page 14