In Creeps The Night

by Natalie Gibson

  “Right. If we’d been filming and caught that dog ghost we could own YouTube.”

  “Don’t know for sure it was a ghost.”

  Nate blew out air in exasperation. “It never hit the ground. And we would have seen it. You play cameraman while I stake out the bridge. Just keep filming, no matter what happens. There could be money in this.”

  Kevin hurried after him. “It may not be safe. Bound to be rotten boards.”

  Fog rolled in thicker, curling slowly like waves of steam among the trees. The temperature seemed to drop several degrees. Kevin hit his video button and aimed at Nate but held the phone near his chin to keep his vision clear.

  “Go slow.”

  “I am. Relax. There could be all kinds of shit in here.”

  Despite its abnormally high ceiling the bridge was narrow and claustrophobic-inducing. Light from Nate’s cell phone was limited, illuming only a couple of feet ahead. Nate took small, careful steps, panning slowly. Gargantuan cobwebs fluttered overhead. Fungus and mold had sprouted everywhere in furry patterns and spongy growths.

  Immediately a rat carrying something in its mouth darted past, shadow looming monstrous against the interior wall.

  “Let’s get out of here.”

  Nate jerked his hand into the air. “Shh, listen.”

  Kevin heard a slight sound. It hesitated, but continued, a soft brushing, padding sound that was definitely moving toward them. He raised the camera to his eyes, chest tight with anticipation.

  Down the center of the wooden bridge a shadow moved.

  “Are you getting this?”

  “Yes. I see it. Looks like that dog again.”

  On it came, wary steps bringing it closer to Nate’s light. As the weak illumination finally played over it, they saw soft, blonde ponytails.

  “What the hell?”

  She was no more than three feet tall with an oval face smeared with grime. Her blue eyes blinked and stayed closed for a moment, as if she was making a wish. When they snapped open they were crimson without an iris. The camera phone tumbled from Kevin’s hands as he lurched backward. He lost his footing and scrambled for the entrance. Fog was swirling in as he reached it, forming elongated, writhing faces before flowing away. When he looked back to call for Nate his voice locked in his throat.

  The toddler’s mouth had distended into a cavernous maw. Swarms of worm-like apparitions, bloodlessly pale and moaning with hunger, had crawled from that opening. They twisted and squirmed, wrapping tighter around Nate, closing over his mouth before he could scream.

  Kevin ran, stumbling in the darkness. His jeans tore and rock scraped the crap out of his knees. His heart felt like an out of control kite as he vaulted into the car. For a brief moment he saw Nate appear in the bridge entrance, eyes dripping blood. The Mustang’s tires squealed and threw dirt as he turned, headlights spotlighting the spaniel as it leapt off the bridge into darkness.

  IT MAY AS well have been Eden that stretched out before little Emily. Her eyes went wide as globes and a smile spread over her rosy mouth. Behind the stone house was a forest, dripping with dew and carpeted with moss. There had been nothing like this in London, where Emily had lived up until the air raids had forced her to come to the safety of the countryside. Daunting as it had been to watch her parents drift away on the train station platform, living with her uncle for a time did not seem so horrid now that this beguiling world lay before her.

  She raced into the woodland and away from the side of the house where she could hear a singing kettle. She tromped through a field of bluebells, dancing through the lightfalls that streamed through the boughs. The green world enveloped her as visions of lost treasures and ancient spells played through her mind.

  A rustling sound in the ferns interrupted Emily’s dreamlike play. She stopped, panting and flushed, as a cloud of dandelion spores breathed up from a sunlit ditch. The diamond-bright filaments caught the light, blustering by on a breeze. Emily was drawn toward the noise with the smile on her face growing ever larger. As she peered over the edge into the ditch, her little heart fluttered like a bird in a cage.

  There, standing in a patch of bobbing dandelions, was a child of her perfect likeness. Indeed, they even wore the same dress. The child stared up at her with huge, glassy eyes, a smile rolling onto her lips just as Emily’s own disappeared.

  “Who are you?” she whispered down to the duplicate of herself. The dandelion child giggled and beckoned to Emily. She would not come down from her perch but rather watched the girl stand in the sea of dandelions.

  “Won’t you come explore with me?” the dandelion child asked in a sweet voice—Emily’s voice. “I’ve got something lovely to show you.”

  Emily hesitated, a low rumble of dread in her chest. But the prospect of letting this creature with her face slip away tore at her.

  “I won’t hurt you, silly! Come and see!” she coaxed, wading through the plants and sending more delicate spores whirling through the air. “It’s just over there.

  Emily reasoned since it wasn’t a far distance that she would still be within safety if she had to run. Curious yet cautious, she followed her own image through ferns and over roots. As the ground dipped, she ran ahead of Emily, loping over the forest floor until she was nearly out of sight. Emily sped after her, calling out for her to wait.

  When she rounded a large tree, she stopped in mid run to see a beautiful little table carved out of a tree stump. There upon its smooth surface were bowls filled with forest fruit, cherries that gleamed like rubies, luscious nuts, and green glass bottles filled with an aromatic liquid.

  As Emily drifted upward, she found she could not take her eyes off the fruits: they were so perfect, so red, so inviting. The dandelion child watched her hungry look with quivering anticipation.

  “It’s for you…” she coaxed, waving a delicate hand over the spread of treats. Something in the hypnotic hum of the insects and the scents of the damp woods drew her hand forward. She bit into a cherry, the juice dripping over and staining her pale skin. It was so sweet that for a moment she forgot all else. After that first taste had passed her lips, a sense of calm washed over her and a bubbling giggle escaped her throat.

  The two girls enjoyed a merry feast at that woodland table, partaking of those enchanted gifts from the earth and laughing until they were giddy at the amusing tales the dandelion child told. After they had drunk their fill of forest wine and eaten until their small stomachs felt tight, the dandelion child led her deeper into the green world. They splashed through rivers and wove chains of daisies and called themselves queens until the light behind the trees turned to hazy yellow.

  As they lay in a meadow of wildflowers staring up at the clouds, Emily told the dandelion child of the troubles in the world she had been sent away from—of the wailing sirens and fire in the sky. She listened, watching Emily in a thoughtful way.

  “I wish I could stay here forever and ever with you…” Emily drowsed.

  “My dear friend, I hate to think of you going back to such an awful place,” she whispered, turning over and stroking Emily’s hair. “I should like very much to save you from all those sorrows.”

  Then a look of wicked inspiration lit up behind the dandelion child’s eyes.

  “Perhaps there is a way…” she murmured. “What if I returned in your place? We do look so strangely similar, you and I. I could pretend to be you and you could live here! What a grand idea!”

  Emily’s smile faded at this.

  “Oh no, I couldn’t do that. Uncle would be so worried for me, and I haven’t any idea how to live in the forest like you. Now that you mention it, it is getting rather late. I should be on my way—but I’ll come back to see you tomorrow,” she said and the dandelion child’s eyes narrowed.

  “No, dear one, no. You simply must stay. I will go back.”

  “What, without you? All alone?”

  “You would not be alone,” she answered with a simper. The dread Emily had felt before returned with a sh
arp intensity and she rose from where she lay. The dizziness in her head hindered her as she tried to leave the clearing. Her legs and arms felt heavy. Which way lead back? How deep into the trees had they come? She had been certain, just a moment ago, that home was just around the corner.

  Emily plunged into the trees, her heart in her throat. Everything was unfamiliar. The dandelion child was gone from her sight when she looked back, but all around her she could hear her footsteps and breathing. As she tried to push herself to go faster, she tripped over a rock hidden under the ferns and fell face-first into the dirt.

  Whimpering, she turned over only to see the dandelion child coming toward her through the sea of plants, that placid smile still on her face. She bent down and picked up the large rock that Emily had tripped over as if it were a pebble.

  Emily did not have time to scream before she smashed it onto her head. Darkness came crashing down.

  She awoke with a sharp breath. Rising, she touched her head in the place the dandelion child had struck her. There was no pain, no blood. She knew she didn’t have time to be confused. She had to get to safety. As she scanned the trees through the shade of night, a spectral light in the distance caught her attention. From the branches, there hung a line of lanterns, leading off deep into the woods.

  Feeling a bubble of hope, Emily followed them, certain they would lead her home.

  In the dark, she did not see the corpse she had left behind, lying hidden by the overgrowth. It would stay there, disturbed only by those that would gnaw on it until there was nothing left but bones and a few tattered pieces of cloth. Over time, a ring of mushrooms sprouted up around Emily’s bones, protecting and claiming her forever.

  THE 1970 LAND Rover turned carefully onto Ghormley Road. Ben was in the driver’s seat and only had one thing on his mind—to get out of this sleepy little town and have some fun with his friends. He looked over at Rhea who was busy texting, while Wes and Mel talked in the backseat about the Friday night homecoming party.

  Cursing the heater, he wiped the glass with the back of his jacket sleeve where condensation had formed. Fall in Ohio was chilly, and the Rover’s heat never failed to stop working when he needed it.

  Mel leaned forward, resting her hand on the console. “Are you crazy, Ben? Why the hell are we on Ghormley Road? This road is a one-way mission to nowhere. We’re supposed to be on a mission for fun. Not this shit.”

  “And leaving Fayette County is more fun than staying in it. Keep driving, Ben. Just a little farther and we’ll find some fun.”

  Mel sat back against the seat, snorting. “Whatever. You know what the legends say. I hate this place.”

  Rhea looked up from her cell phone, screamed, and grabbed the steering wheel, jerking the Rover to the right.

  “What the fuck! Are you insane?” Ben yelled, his knuckles turning white as he regained control.

  “I’m sorry! Didn’t you see—”

  “Pull over. Now!” Mel demanded from the backseat. “Wes can’t breathe.”

  Ben quickly pulled to the shoulder and parked.

  “Where’s your inhaler?” Rhea said, digging in the glove box.

  “P-pock-et,” Wes wheezed.

  Mel searched his jacket pockets but they were empty. “Rhea, look under the seat. I can’t find it!”

  Rhea climbed into the backseat and started searching the floorboard while Mel checked the backseat. Wes’s wheezing grew worse, his breath growing shallow.

  “Guys, over there.” Ben pointed to the middle of the road.

  In the middle of the road sat a light blue canister that looked just like Wes’s inhaler.

  “That’s impossible…” Mel whispered.

  Ben flung open the door and hurried to the middle of the road. He grabbed the inhaler and ran back to the window.

  “Why the hell did you lock the door? Open up!” He frantically banged on the window.

  Rhea and Mel tried opening the doors, but they wouldn’t budge.

  “Watch out!” Ben yelled. He wrapped his jacket around his hand and arm and plowed his fist into the glass. Nothing. He tried over and over until his hand throbbed and blood trickled down his fingers.

  “No…” Mel whispered, rocking back and forth.

  Tears fell down Rhea’s face as she realized her friend’s fate. Wes was no longer breathing, his body slumped over.

  “Snap out of it, Mel. I need your help!” Rhea said, moving Wes’s body. She took a steadying breath before trying to revive her friend. She pushed down on his chest a few times before pinching his nose and blowing air into his lungs. After ten minutes she slumped over, crying. “Mel, do something!”

  Mel placed her ear onto Wes’s chest. “He’s not breathing… I think he’s dead.”

  “He’s…he’s dead, Rhea! Oh my god…”

  Rhea looked out the windshield and the windows. It was too dark to see. “Where’s Ben?”

  “Maybe he went to get help.”

  “I can’t get a signal. Try your phone.”

  Rhea dialed. No signal.

  “We can’t just sit here. I’m going to go up the road and see if I can get a signal.”

  “Don’t leave me!” Mel pleaded. “I told you this place was bad.”

  “Stop it!” Rhea jerked on the door handle, praying it would open. To her surprise, it did. She hurried out and held her phone toward the sky, trying to get service. Her battery flashed and then the screen went black.

  Rhea turned toward the car and found the door shut. What the hell was happening?

  “Mel!” she shouted, knocking on the window. “Open the door.”

  Mel sat frozen, just staring at her.

  Rhea frantically pulled on the door handle, slapping her hand against the glass. “Mel!” Something in the thicket behind her snapped.

  Rhea froze. “Ben?” she whispered, wiping her eyes on her sleeve. She couldn’t see anything, but the sound of leaves crunching grew closer. Maybe someone had heard them and was coming to help.

  A stray dog padded into the area.

  “Get lost. I don’t have time for this shit.” Rhea peered into the window and stared at Mel. “I need your help. Try the window or the door.”

  Mel stared at her with the same glazed eyes, then moved her arm slowly, pointing at Mel, and then pointing behind Mel.

  Rhea turned to find the dog staring at her. The sides of the dog’s mouth oozed a white film, its lips curling to reveal sharp fangs. She ran to the front of the Rover, scrambling for the hood.

  The dog leaped, dragging her down as teeth ripped into her back thigh. Rhea screamed in pain, thrashing as she tried to kick the dog away. Its mouth latched onto her leg again, ripping into the calf muscle.

  Rhea kicked the dog with her other leg and managed to break free. Grabbing the tire, she tried to pull herself up. Panting, she looked around. “Where the hell did it go?” She scooted around, and braced her back against the tire, trying to slide up, before slumping back down again.

  The dog attacked again, this time latching onto her neck. She howled in pain, feeling herself growing weaker. Slowly, Rhea’s world faded to black.

  Mel blinked, shaking her head. Where had everyone gone? Dazed, she opened the door, stumbling out. The sight of Rhea in a pool of blood greeted her, the dog lapping at it as if it were a bowl of fresh water.

  Mel turned and ran into the other direction. “Ben! Where are you?” Hearing footsteps, she stopped walking. Turning, she saw it was Ben and ran toward him. “They’re dead, Ben. Everyone’s dead,” she sobbed.

  He stared blankly at her, his eyes dark without a hint of life in them. Then he smiled.

  Mel tried to back away, but his hands gripped her neck and squeezed. “Stop it!” She slapped at his hands, clawing at his skin with her nails. The more she fought the weaker she became. She struggled until she could move no more, and her body slumped to the ground.

  Ben stumbled as his Rover finally came into focus. He blinked a few times, trying to remember what the hell had ju
st happened. He had managed to get a signal and help was on the way.

  He started to run and tripped, falling onto the pavement. It was Mel. He scrambled across the road, shaking her, begging her to wake up. “Help!” he yelled. He got to his feet and started running again. “Help!” he shouted again.

  He tried to run toward the shoulder of the road but couldn’t. He was stuck in the middle of the road. He stopped running in place and tried again to move, but it was no use. “I should have listened to you, Mel.”

  The sounds of sirens grew closer.

  He looked over his shoulder and saw headlights. It was only a car.

  He waved his arms, trying to flag the car down as it rounded the curve. “Help!” he cried right before the car plowed into him.

  His body was hurled into a large pine tree and landed with a thud. His eyes fluttered open. The last thing he saw was Ghormley Road.

  GOT A NEW girlfriend today, pretty excited about the whole deal. She was one of those hot nerdy chicks, young, loves to read, likes good coffee and adores stripey socks. Best part was when I timidly told her, “Yeah, so I’m a writer.” Usually that’s social leprosy unless you happen to have a bestseller, which I don’t have. But this girl was enthralled, and she said the magic words, “Will you write me in?”

  I needed to get going; after all, I had a bestseller to write. All I needed was an attractive plot, some mystery, a splashing of subterfuge, and a snazzy ending. As you can tell I’m well on my way at page one and it was blank. But I had a hot girlfriend! I had that at least. No sense of originality or imagination for creative writing, but I had a girl, for the moment, until she caught on that I was a fake, then I would have nothing. If I could just come up with something different, then one girl wouldn’t even matter. I could have everything!

  It was three weeks into the relationship, still on page one, when she finally asked me, “So what do you do for money?” This was a real kick in the face, because, you know, I’m a writer. My teeth were grinding and my fists were shaking, but with a quiet sense of suppressed rage, I thought to myself, don’t react to it, just write it. So I stared at page one and willed the magic to happen. And the magic was going to happen, right after I finished catching up on Facebook, cleaned out the fridge, scraped the icky bits out from off the blades on the ceiling fan. Like I said, magic about to happen.