Not Your Average Monster: A Bestiary of Horrors

Home > Other > Not Your Average Monster: A Bestiary of Horrors > Page 30
Not Your Average Monster: A Bestiary of Horrors Page 30

by Pete Kahle


  I remain quiet and cross my legs back and forth, begging for comfort. I search the coffee station, but the barista is in the back. I cup the mug firmly between my hands again and take another sip.

  My last coffee as a teenager, my mind churns.

  Get a hold of yourself, Des! It’s the end of a decade, not the end of the world.

  “What’s going on beyond those beautiful eyes of yours?” Gage inquires. I see a tiny spark of excitement in his pale blue eyes, but just as quickly as I notice, it flashes away. I peer up at him from under my long eyelashes, the mascara sticks every time I blink.

  “I don’t know you,” I say slowly.

  “I hear conversation helps with that,” he retorts.

  “Still though,” I say with a shrug, “I’m shy.”

  “I don’t know you and I’m not shy,” he says softly, inching closer.

  “Yeah, but that’s different.” I tilt my head to the side.

  “How so?” he asks, propping up and letting a smile beam through. I finally relax as he seems a little more happy-go-lucky. I’ve captured his attention. I feel the control shift and a sly smile teases my lips.

  “Well,” I say in an assertive tone, “I’m a girl. And I’m not wearing a black trench coat at dark, standing outside the coffee shop without so much as a cigarette to use for an excuse, watching the rain crash down like some sort of creep.”

  “Creep? Ouch!” he teases. He dramatically places his hands over his heart and falls backwards, sulking deeper into his chair. I stifle a giggle, but can’t hide the smile.

  The wind outside roars and I hear the harsh droplets of rain beat against the window.

  “You from around here?” I ask.

  “Born and raised.” I try to read his expression… wishing I could read his thoughts.

  “Same,” I reply. Having a normal conversation starter seems rather dull. I like him. He’s different. I could use a new friend… someone who isn’t still wrapped up in all the teenagery drama of high school even if we’re in college now. Perhaps this new decade won’t be so bad after all.

  “What are your plans?” he asks, leaning closer to me over the table.

  “For?”

  “Getting out, of course.”

  “They say we’re never getting out of this town,” I challenge.

  “They? Who’s they?” He tries to hide it, but I see it behind his eyes.

  “You know,” I analyze his reaction meticulously.

  His eyes shift around the shop and then fall back to me. They linger with mine, making contact for as long as I’ll allow. I can’t look into them… it’s like he’s blocked them off. I’ve always been able to read people so well… but he’s different. I have to get to know him.

  “You can see them too?” he asks lowly. A rush of endorphins floods over me. Energy rises around me, as if the night itself is coming alive.

  I smile to myself. In a way, Gage shatters my confidence. He makes me question what I know about people… how I read them. And in another way, he challenges me and I like it. I’ve never felt challenged before.

  “What do you see? Do you hear anything?” I ask urgently. My heart leaps into my throat and sticks like a gristly piece of steak that’s been chewed for far too long to hold any flavor. I can’t breathe. I can’t think. I’m focused on Gage and only Gage. What’s he hiding? An intrigue pulls from deep inside… a need to know.

  “Can I get you anything else?” the heavy accent punctures my thoughts. I jolt upright, spilling what little coffee I have left all over the floor.

  “I’m sorry, hun, I didn’t mean to scare you,” she says as she begins to clean it up.

  “Allow me,” Gage says, taking the rag from the barista. They lock eyes and she smiles.

  “Th-thank you,” she says.

  “Of course. Now, why don’t you start to close up, it’s almost time to lock the doors.”

  She nods and heads off. How did he do that? She could lose her job for letting a customer clean something up. She knows that.

  “I think I better be going now,” Gage stands.

  “What?” My mind races and screams with protest. We aren’t done here. What does he know? No one has ever been able to see them before… not like me. No one is like me.

  “The coffee shop is closing any minute now. It was great to meet you, Deseray and I sincerely hope we-”

  “Do you have plans for tonight?” I press urgently.

  “No. Why?”

  “Perhaps we should finish our conversation elsewhere.”

  “If you insist,” he says, handing me my coat. My heart races. He’s coming with me.

  The door swings open and the frigid air takes over the heated room. I don my coat and already have a foot out the door before the barista calls out, “Be careful out there.”

  “Beautiful night,” Gage tries his hand at sarcasm.

  We walk down the sidewalk. I take two steps for his one for a while before he notices and slows his pace. The night doesn’t seem as cold and bitter with him beside me. I want to bring up The Shadows but I don’t know how…

  “I don’t think it’s a coincidence that we met tonight, Deseray.”

  “Neither do I,” I say. My voice wavers in the night. What’s happening to me? I feel funny. Different. Nervous. Why do I want him to like me so much? I shouldn’t care.

  “I’ve been waiting for someone a lot like you,” he says.

  “So, I’m not the only that sees The Shadows,” I say, wondering if that’s what he means.

  “There aren’t very many like us left.”

  “Why not?”

  “You’re very special. It makes me happy that I’ve found you. Someone who will truly understand.”

  “I feel the same way,” I reply with a smile.

  It’s silent for a while as we aimlessly wander.

  “Where are we going?” he asks eventually.

  “I don’t know,” I say with a shrug.

  In the back of my mind, I know we’ll need to go our separate ways. The rain is barely mist now, but the rumbling thunder in the distance promises more to come.

  “Well then, let’s just keep walking,” he suggests with a comforting smile. He’s slowly coming to life as the night takes over.

  The lights flicker down as we walk past the closing shops. I shake my head at the small town, closing before ten at night. That’s Ghastly Peak for you.

  What are you doing? Turn around. You know you can’t do this, the voice hisses and yet I disobey. It can’t order me around forever.

  “How long?” I ask out of the blue. I really need to get better at this conversation thing.

  “What was that?”

  “How long have you been able to see them?” I clarify.

  “It’s not triggered. It’s something you’re born with, Des.”

  I breathe out a sigh of relief. I didn’t do anything wrong. I’m not alone.

  We continue to walk as I think about what to say. It’s all so much to take in. We reach the end of Main Street and turn down a back road. No street lamps. I heave a heavy sigh. My breath turns to a cloud of mist, disappearing quickly in front of me. I pull my coat tighter and wish I’d listened to my mother this morning. She said it would snow. The weatherman on Station Five disagreed, but moms always know best.

  A raven swoops down in front of me. I grit my teeth and move forward. The wind picks up around me. The closer we get to the coast, the denser the fog gets.

  “What was that?” Gage’s alert voice sends a wave of panic charging through my body.

  “Nothing,” I hiss way too quickly. A stinging sensation takes over as the wind pierces through my clothing. “It was nothing.”

  But I know he saw the raven too.

  My brand-new, speedy-fast, red sneakers race across the floor. My grubby 5-year-old hands catch me as I trip over my own two feet.

  “Slow down,” Mommy insists. My feet clomp up the stairs and I pause midway to peek through the railing. The Shadows crawl ac
ross the floor. Soon they’ll take over the entire house.

  The reds and pinks of the setting sun shine brightly through the large and tall window next to the front door. I want to bathe in their rays forever, but night will be here soon. They’ll come for me like they always do.

  “Mommy!” I call out, but there’s no answer.

  “You don’t need her,” Betty says. Betty always comes around sunset. I smile.

  “Mommy! Betty’s here,” I call out, “come meet her.”

  “Dessy, stop it!” my mother’s stern voice echoes down the long hallway. I wait patiently and she comes into view.

  “But mommy-”

  “Des, for the last time, Betty is not real. You need to stop this.”

  “Honey, it’s perfectly normal for her to have imaginary friends,” Dad comforts, walking in from his reading den. I inhale deeply. He smells rich of what mommy calls “too much expensive tobacco”. He holds a wooden pipe firmly between his teeth and smiles at me. He gives a short wink and I try to wink back, but really it just feels like squinting my eyes.

  “Betty’s real. She’s the nice one.”

  My dad smiles at me and nods his head.

  “But The Shadows will be here soon,” I say with a frown.

  “You have nothing to worry about, sweetheart,” Daddy says, walking over. He reaches his hand between the rails, ruffles my hair, and pulls me forward, kissing me on my forehead.

  “The Shadows…” I start, and then pause, not quite sure how to explain them. I got tired of trying.

  “They can’t hurt you.”

  “Remember what the nice doctors said. It’s all in your head,” Mommy reminds.

  Daddy glares at her and mutters something in her ear. I frown because I can’t hear him. I hate it when he keeps secrets. Mommy walks away in a quick bustle, mumbling something under her breath.

  “Read to me?” I ask, my eyes begging as I peer into my dad’s hazel eyes.

  “Of course. But you have to sleep quickly. We have a big day ahead of us,” he says. His heavy feet climb the stairs, pausing half-way to scoop me up in his arms.

  “What’s tomorrow?” I ask.

  “Tomorrow’s the picnic, my dear. We’re going to the coast. You can even bring your bathing suit and play in the waves,” he promises.

  “Will you be there?” I ask, clutching his shoulders. I never want to let him go.

  “Yes, I’ll be there,” he answers softly.

  “Good. I miss you, Daddy.”

  “Daddy is very busy with work, Des,” he explains, gently setting me down on the bed.

  “But I’m going to miss you,” I say quietly, looking down at my hands. I know better than this. I shouldn’t say anything.

  “Miss me?”

  “When you’re gone.”

  “At work? Sweetheart, we’ve talked about this.”

  “No. Not at work,” I say, chewing the dead skin around my fingernails.

  My father tenderly pulls my hand away from my mouth and asks, “then where?”

  “When you’re gone to the place you don’t come back from.”

  “What are you talking about, Des? Who said something to you?” he asks.

  “The Shadows say that you don’t have long left.”

  “The Shadows, huh?”

  “They say you’re going away very soon and there’s nothing I can do about it.”

  He pulls me close against his chest and tells me that it will be okay. I breathe in his tobacco scent again, wanting to remember it forever.

  I feel The Shadows surround Gage and me as we continue to wind down the back roads. Gage saunters through the night as if it were made solely for him. The rain turns to an icy sleet and I begin to wish we were closer to shelter.

  As we near the coast, my chest tightens. Gage doesn’t mind The Shadows. Maybe he’s not the same. Maybe it’s only visual for him, and not energetic.

  “The storm’s getting bad,” I say.

  “The Shadows are here,” he states, ignoring my concerns. “What do they say to you?”

  Droplets sting my face with a bitter bite, ice when it first hits and then quickly melting its cold juice all over my skin. The wind stings too, but soon enough my face numbs.

  “They tell me about the end. They told me about my dad when I was little,” I say, pulling deeper inside my coat. I don’t want to go here. I don’t want to revisit.

  Gage stops. He turns and places his hands on my shoulders. “They took your father?”

  The ocean roars. We’re getting close now. The Shadows gather from every nook and cranny, race from behind every tree. I feel their presence… everything is stronger than before.

  “Yeah. I was five. It was a family picnic.”

  “What happened?” Gage asks, his voice rich with concern.

  “He went off. They never found his body.” Warm drops flood the corners of my eyes, but the ferocious wind wipes them away.

  “I’m sorry,” he offers, getting the hint that I don’t want to talk about it. The waves crash around me as we turn the final corner. I feel the waves pulling at me. I haven’t been back here since…

  The parking area is empty. The beach is closed, but that doesn’t faze Gage one bit. Shadows pour from all corners of the darkness. They’re tall, ever-changing figures, masked by the night. I catch a glimpse of the looming lighthouse to my left and a sinking feeling weighs my heart down. I swallow hard against my cold throat. The icy rain flirts with the thunderous waves.

  “Maybe we should turn back,” I say. But the ice is getting bigger. Soon it will hail. I know just as well as any sane person that we won’t have time to make it back to town before the storm gets too rough.

  “It’s going to be okay,” Gage says. He wraps his arms around my waist and pulls me close. His warmth fills me and for a fleeting second, I truly believe his words. “You must have a lot of questions,” he says.

  “Why are you here?”

  “Because you asked me. You wanted me with you. You wanted answers.”

  Silence.

  “Am I your first?” he asks.

  “First?”

  “Who can see them?”

  “Yes,” I confess.

  “They’re gathering now,” he says, turning to me and staring deeply into my eyes. It’s dark and I can barely make out his dominating figure but his eyes are crystal clear.

  “I know,” I whisper, unable to gather my wits. I take in a shaky breath and nod. He takes my hand and I smile. He’ll help me. But… Gage is different. Gage is blocked… I don’t have control anymore, I can’t read him, so what makes me think I can trust him?

  “Why are they all here?” he asks me, like I know.

  “How would--”

  “Listen to them,” he urges in a voice not unlike my father’s. It brings me back. It gives me strength. He feeds my confidence.

  I take in a deep breath of the salty aroma. Gage’s presence fills me with a newfound spark of energy.

  Turn around, Dessy. There’s nothing for you here, the shadows heckle. I feel them absorb me, pulling me away from the lighthouse and back to my house.

  “I really should be going,” I step away. We’re farther down the beach than I thought we were. I feel an urgent rush bubbling from inside as lightning strikes behind me.

  “It’s getting bad out. We need shelter, Des. The lighthouse,” Gage says, his grip on my hand tightens. Our fingers are intertwined, there’s no breaking free.

  “No,” I say, my voice wavers and shows my fear. I curse myself for being transparent. I gave him control again. “The lighthouse has been deserted for years,” I say.

  “It will be fine. It’s shelter.”

  “I can’t!” I protest. My oppressed emotions begin to surface.

  “They scare you,” he says, as if he’s having an epiphany. His voice carries me back to a time I’ve spent years trying to forget.

  “No,” I insist, but the memory pulls at me.

  I have no choice. There’s a b
ond like no other; one I can never break. One I can never get away from. Gage has captivated me, intrigued me with knowledge, and now I am his.

  My numb fingers tap against my wet jeans and I shake my head.

  “You don’t have to let them scare you. You don’t have to be afraid.”

  “Dessy! Get back here,” Daddy’s deep voice demands.

  I freeze dead in my tracks. My speedy-quick sneakers screech to a halt and skid against the pebbles below me.

  “Where were you going?” Daddy asks, kneeling down beside me.

  “To the lighthouse,” I reply simply.

  “You must never go there,” he demands, his eyes boring into mine. I nod softly. He’s never spoken like that to me.

  “I won’t,” I promise, my baby voice wavering.

  “You scared me. You can’t just run away like that,” he scolds. Even when he’s stern, there’s a warmth to his voice like no other.

  “I’m sorry,” I say, feeling him lift me off my feet. I like it when he carries me.

  “What do The Shadows say?” he asks. I love Daddy. Daddy understands The Shadows. He never tells me, but I think they talk to him too sometimes.

  “They say that I need to enjoy today.”

  “Well, I agree with them,” Daddy says, patting me on the shoulder before setting me down. I take his hand as we approach the blanket and umbrella. Mommy sits beneath, reading her book.

  “When will you leave?” I ask.

  “Soon,” he says. I look into his eyes again. He’s strong. He doesn’t cry like I do. But there’s something behind them. Something that I’ve never seen before.

  “What’s wrong?” I ask immediately. I’ve stopped walking and I’m waiting for him to answer.

  “One day, they’ll come for you too.”

  “Daddy, Mommy says the shadows aren’t real.”

  “Sometimes mommies and daddies get scared too easily,” he explains, “We just want everything to be okay.”

  “I get scared too,” I say, struggling to speak over the rumble of the waves.

  Daddy kneels down next to me.

  “I love you so very much,” he says, placing a hand on my shoulder.

  “I love you too,” I say.

  This is it, the shadows hiss. This is your final moment.

 

‹ Prev