by Wray Ardan
Jaden squinted, trying to comprehend what she was seeing. Four humanoid animals huddled around the tree’s broken branches. At least she thought they were animals. Their scrawny bodies, no larger than newborn babies, looked malnourished and sickly. Horns sprouted from their heads and faces, fangs protruded from their mouths, and their tattered clothes were covered in slime. If only her phone hadn’t been consumed by the mud, she’d take a photo.
What are they? She rubbed her eyes. Had a science lab buried experimental rodents and chemicals here in the bayou, where they’d continued to grow until they became these things?
One of them, dressed in a filthy green shirt and culottes, resembled an old hag.
No, Jaden thought. It’s a hairless mutant rat. Long tentacles bounced around its head. It extended its sharp claws, ready to shred whatever they had trapped. Jaden would have screamed if she thought any of this was really happening. But it couldn’t be.
The thing spoke, and Jaden shivered.
“Ya useless Bellibone, tell us where the Professor’s at or we is gonna rip ya apart,” it rasped in a curt Southern twang, nostrils flaring as it reached toward something in the leaves. “Yer time is up. The Professor, he don’t care ‘bout ya.”
“You’re right, Datura,” a weary female voice replied. “He always preferred the five of you.”
“That’s right. Us Mal Rous is his favorites.”
Jaden stepped back and stood in the shadows watching. She had never heard of a Mal Rou or a Bellibone. Were they a Southern thing? The creatures only came to her knees. How dangerous could they be? In some ways they appeared human, except their features were reptilian, or rodent, or—
Her thoughts stopped as small claws dragged across her calves and pushed against the backs of her knees, forcing her to stumble into the kitchen.
“Datura, look and see what I got,” a hoarse male voice spoke from behind her.
The one called Datura gave a low growl and stretched her neck forward to study Jaden. She kneaded her bony hands together, then ran them over her oily face. Snapping her fingers, she called to the others. “Anders. Tig. Esere.”
Snarling, they moved closer to Jaden.
“Ivan, ya dummy.” Datura’s eyes were beady aqua spheres that followed the sweat dripping down Jaden’s brow. “What’d ya bring her in here for?”
“She were spyin’ on us. She’ll tell others.”
Jaden glanced back at her captor. He stood a few inches taller than the rest, which seemed to make him feel superior. His clothes were threadbare. His reptilian hide resembled dried mud. Horns were scattered over the crown of his head, even on his pointed ears, and his eyes were electric green. Like the others, he had sharp fangs that jutted over his thin lips.
“What’s ya scared ‘a?” Datura lunged at Jaden. “We ain’t hurt ya. Yet. Tig just injected ya with a little ‘a her spurges poison.” Datura smiled, patting Tig on the back. “Then she set us free.”
Stubby horns hung from Tig’s drooping jowls, bouncing up and down when she moved. She wore a dingy yellow jumpsuit that clung to her body. Her flesh was a moist salmon color. The thin strands of wiry hair that she had used to puncture Jaden stuck out from the back of her head.
Datura screeched, “What’s yer name?”
Jaden replied in a whisper. Stepping back, she tripped and crashed onto the floor next to Ivan. He lifted his arm, ready to smack her across the face.
“Sorry, sorry… .” Jaden cowered.
Snickering, Ivan lowered his hand.
The Mal Rous cackled. Their stench made it hard for Jaden to breathe. Her shock was crippling her. Her insides felt as if they were being stuffed through a meat grinder.
No, no, none of this is real. She shook her head.
Datura raised a finger and the others became silent.
“I … I won’t tell anyone about you,” Jaden stammered. “W-who would believe me, anyway?”
Ivan crouched next to her, his head twitching from side to side as he slobbered, “Ya ain’t gonna tell no one ‘bout us, cause if ya does, ya’d be better off dead.”
His spit cascaded across Jaden’s face, arms, and the tops of her legs, sending a burning sensation through her capillaries. Red welts emerged, itching, throbbing as if fire ants were under her skin, biting her, struggling to burst free. Seconds later pus oozed out.
“Just relax,” Tig said. Her salmon-hued hand roamed tenderly over Ivan’s shirt. “It’s only poison ivy. He could’a bit ya with snake venom.”
“Quiet!” Ivan pulled away from Tig. “What’d ya tell her for? I liked seein’ her squirm.”
“Jaden, Jaden …” Datura said, pushing Ivan aside. “Hmm, somethin’ ‘bout ya.”
Datura’s tentacles were crawling around on her head like fat worms trying to escape the sunlight. They reached toward Jaden, sniffing her.
“So listen up, girlie. Ya is gonna find our Professor. If ya don’t, like Ivan here says, by the time we be done with ya, ya will be beggin’ for us to let ya die.” As if drinking in a sweet elixir, Datura inhaled through her tentacles and bulbous nose. “I got yer scent. I can track ya anywhere. Anywhere.”
It seemed as though the creatures were gaining strength from Jaden’s terror. She scooted back through the wet grunge that covered the floor, sensing that she was nothing more than a toy to them. They would just bat her around for a while, then abandon her when she was no longer alive.
“Ya tell anyone,” Ivan said, “and ya is gonna suffer. We’ll maim everyone ya know.” He jerked his head to one side and stuck out his hand, stopping one of the other creatures. “Esere, leave her be.”
From the looks of Esere she assumed he was another male. He had large bloodshot eyes and a beaklike nose. Despite being smaller than the rest, his frayed red clothes and slate-gray skin made him appear more malevolent. He aimed the stubby horn on his chin at Jaden.
Ivan grinned at Esere, then at Jaden. “In fact, we’ll maim everyone in this here miserable town. Ya get what I’m sayin’, ya snivelin’ baby?”
Jaden nodded. “Y-yes, I understand.” She stood up. She locked her knees, trying to steady her legs. It didn’t help. Ivan’s slobber had covered her with fiery blisters. Now, staring at Esere and anticipating his bite, she felt the possibility of death as it hummed through her veins.
“Why don’t we just do away with her now?” Tig asked, tugging on one of her wiry strands of hair. “We could all use a tasty human to dig into.”
“I’ll look for your Professor,” Jaden quickly said to Datura. “But I don’t know who he is. I … I don’t know anyone. I’m not from here. My mom and sister and I just got to town a couple weeks ago. I don’t know how or where to find this … this person.”
“No excuses!” Datura’s lips receded, showing her yellow gums and sharp canine teeth. “Find him or ya is gonna pay the price. Slowly. Painfully. We promise.”
The rest of the Mal Rous mimicked their leader, waving their filthy claws at Jaden as she continued to back away.
“We want food.” Tig pranced over to her. “Cane toads. Peanut butter to dip cockroaches in. Coral snakes. Mmm, the small ones feel good when they squirm down into my belly.”
Jaden could feel the remnants of her own breakfast inching up her throat. “I, I will,” she said, “I’ll get you food. I’ll find your Professor.” Trembling, she turned toward Datura. “You won’t have to hurt anyone. Only, I need time.”
“Why?” Tig giggled, her jowls jiggling. “We enjoy teasin’ humans, don’t we, Honeyboy?” Tig gestured for Honeyboy to come closer. “Come on Anders. Check her out.”
Anders moved next to her and grinned widely, his enormous jaws looking lethal. His hide was like leather. Feelers hung from the sides of his dragon-shaped skull. It was obvious that his nickname, Honeyboy, came from his honey colored irises. Like the others, his clothes were nothing more than dirty rags.
“It’s been so long, Datura,” Tig whined. “Can’t we keep her—just to skewer and flay? Fun treats. The P
rofessor, he won’t care. We just has to leave his wife and girl alone.” Smiling, Tig pricked Jaden’s ankle with her claws, causing her to jump. “The Professor said he were gonna put us someplace safe. That he’d be back.”
“Please, it’ll take me some—”
“Time!” Datura grunted, and her gamey breath hung in the air. “Again with time. I’ll give ya a week. If ya don’t find him, I’ll sniff ya out. And yer kinfolk too.”
My family. Jaden winced.
Datura tapped on her engorged nose, sending a group of her tentacles writhing toward Jaden, then tipped her head back, closed her eyes, and took a deep breath.
Ivan leered up at Jaden as if he were imagining breaking her bones. “We is gonna come after ya, and everyone ya love.”
A slight movement in the tree caught Jaden’s eye, and she glimpsed the Bellibone that Datura had been threatening. One of its legs was caught under a branch. Its complexion was rosy white, with more human, feminine features than the Mal Rous. Unlike the others, it had wings. Jaden realized that this was what she’d heard calling for help earlier.
“One more week, one more week,” Tig sang in a high pitch, “and we gonna barbecue ya …” Anders’s forked tongue shot out, slapping Tig across her face. The others laughed as Tig rubbed the welt appearing on her cheek.
Jaden didn’t hesitate. She ran out the back door and stumbled down the steps. She could hear them mocking her as she raced through the swampy backyard. It wasn’t the first time today that she wondered if she would live to see her sixteenth birthday.
CHAPTER 3
Jaden couldn’t find her makeshift path hidden in the dusky shadows at the front of the shack, so she pushed her way into the wet foliage and forged a new trail. Her heart was beating fast. She felt like an animal struggling to get free from a snare. She didn’t care about alligators or poisonous insects. She wanted to get far away from this town, from Briz and Ava, and most of all from the Mal Rous. She longed to be back home in Colorado.
By the time she found the road, night had settled in. The humidity was smothering her. Her body and mind swayed in opposite directions. She pulled at her filthy, sweaty shirt, ready to peel it off. Her skin itched from Ivan’s poison ivy-tainted slobber. Hunching over, she rested her hands on her thighs. Her throat was dry. She needed water. Scared and confused, she reached for her phone. Then remembered it was long gone. She couldn’t call anyone for help, and no cars ever drove on this dead-end road. She had no choice. She’d have to walk all the way back to town to their rental house, or else to the so-called mansion.
The mansion was closer.
Jaden willed her feet to move faster with each step. The shrill of cicadas amplified the pounding in her head. She wondered what kind of lies Ava had told their mom about why Jaden hadn’t shown up today.
Jaden finally reached the massive stone wall that guarded Guyon Manor from the rest of world. She opened the iron gate and saw that the house was dark and empty. As she walked along the driveway under the arching oak trees, the glow of the moon enhanced the grounds and softened the two-story manor’s flaws. Inhaling the fragrance of magnolia blossoms, she watched as lightning bugs flitted through the tall grass.
The house’s beauty faded when she stood in front of it. It was dingy white. Its shutters sagged like wet dishtowels. In reality the place was as shabby as the nearby town, Belle Fleur.
At the back of the house she saw the detached garage. It had been the kitchen when it was originally built in the eighteen hundreds. The sight of the dilapidated building caused the sores on her skin to burn. Were more monsters lurking inside, watching her? Jaden quickly turned away from it and stepped onto the back porch, scrabbling for the house key her mom had hidden under a paint can, steadying her trembling hand to fit the key into the lock. She turned the knob and inched the kitchen door open. Sliding her hand along the wall, she flicked on the light switch.
“Come on, Mom. Come looking for me.” Jaden’s words were barely audible.
Why had she even bothered getting out of bed today? She wondered if she had unwittingly messed with someone’s mojo and they’d put a big fat Louisiana voodoo curse on her. At the kitchen sink she held her mouth to the faucet, drinking as much of the corroded-tasting liquid as she could. Lowering her head under the tap, she let the water flow through her muddy hair, then washed the dirt and pus from her face, arms, and legs. Enervated, she sat down on the floor and leaned against a cupboard. She continued to question why those detestable things had been preserved in slime and buried. Had she imagined them? Why did she have to be the one to unleash them? And who was the blasted Professor?
That morning she had woken up so happy, excited to buy a birthday present for Briz. She closed her eyes, but couldn’t escape from all that had transpired. The images were too vivid; if she had her sketchpad she could have drawn the Mal Rous in detail. Getting to her feet, she roamed through the manor’s stuffy rooms, turning on all of the lamps that worked. Even with its elegant crystal chandeliers and gilded mirrors, the place exuded sadness.
And why wouldn’t it? It was abandoned, left to die.
Making her way up the grand staircase, Jaden opened the door that led into her Aunt Amelia’s childhood bedroom and flicked on the light. Sinister patterns crept across the peeling wallpaper. The bed’s purple spread was coated with years of dust. The room reeked of mothballs. She went over to the window and opened it wide. “I am delirious; there’s not going to be a breeze unless there’s another friggin’ storm.”
Near the closet, her mom had stacked boxes with games, books, and photographs of her Aunt Amelia with her Grandmother Elvina and Grandfather Dekle. “It’s weird,” Jaden said, walking over to the pile. “One day they just decided to leave and never come back. They didn’t even take anything with them—” She inhaled sharply. “Of course they didn’t. They knew about the Mal Rous and ran for their lives. So if they knew about those loathsome creatures, they might have known that damn Professor.”
Jaden held one of the framed black and white photographs. Her family. They were all strangers to her. She could see how much Ava resembled their Grandmother Elvina, both of them striking. Amelia beamed at the camera with childlike innocence. Jaden’s Grandfather Dekle looked very distinguished. Perhaps he’d been a lawyer or a doctor.
Or a professor.
Tig said the Professor wouldn’t let them touch his wife or girl. Was my grandfather the Professor? The picture dropped from Jaden’s hand, the glass cracking as it hit the floor. Was he friends with the Mal Rous? Jaden’s stomach convulsed. Dry heaves sent her lunging for the open window.
“Please help me,” she muttered. Oh yeah. As if somehow someone was going to hear her and tell her that this was all in her imagination and she was going to be all right. “I’m not into this. Let someone else deal with it. I’ll tell the police all I know, then we’ll leave town.”
Picking the photo up off the floor, Jaden poked her finger at Amelia’s cheerful face. “What did you have against us? What’d we ever do to you that you’d leave us this mess?”
Tossing the picture back with the others, Jaden kicked the boxes repeatedly until she conceded. “Fine. So you were a kid back then. You probably didn’t even know what was going on. Anyway, I’m the moron who busted open the jug.”
Mentally and physically drained, she flopped down on the bed. Decades of dust billowed up then settled back on her, covering her like a musty blanket as she fell asleep. Chaotic dreams kept her tossing and turning. She was being chased by the Mal Rous. One caught hold of her arm and shook her as it said, “Ya don’t look so good.”
She opened her eyes. Her breath stuck in the back of her throat. She pulled away from the very real scruffy man whose fingers were squeezing her shoulders. His slightly pointed ears stuck out from stringy hair that was plastered across the top of his head. What few teeth he had were brown. Bug-eyed, Jaden stared at him whimpering, “I’m okay, I’m okay.”
Equally alarmed by her bedraggled appearanc
e, the man was careful not to touch her engorged blisters as he helped her sit up. “Ya Miss Jaden, right? Miss Jaden Lisette?”
Nodding, she watched as he called her mom on his cell, then listened as he went on and on in his Southern drawl, explaining to her mother that he was Officer Duncan and had found her daughter, and everything was all right. Too tired and apprehensive to argue that point, Jaden kept hearing the Mal Rous’ voices in her mind, threatening her with what they’d do if she told anyone. Besides, from the looks of him, this so-called Officer Duncan could be related to the little cretins.
As she walked to his police car, Jaden came to the conclusion that Belle Fleur was a town of misfits. Everyone over the age of sixty had been hexed. At night the bodies in the graveyard probably crawled out of their coffins and roamed the streets.
When they arrived at the house, Jaden’s mother rushed out to hug her—then quickly recoiled. “What happened to you?”
“Don’t ya worry ma’am. She’s just fine,” the sheriff said.
Jaden’s mom turned to him. “Officer Duncan, I’m Brooke Lisette. We spoke on the phone. I just can’t thank you enough. It never dawned on us … Jaden told her sister she was going to a friend’s house. When I called him this evening he said he hadn’t seen her all day.”
“She were just in the wrong place at the wrong time,” Officer Duncan replied. “Right in line where that there tornadic storm came a barrelin’ through; lucky for her it kept on movin’. Heard on the news it hunkered down on the next town over.” He gestured to Jaden’s sores and his head bounced from side to side, reminding Jaden of Ivan. “She got inta some poison ivy.”
“Yes, I can see that.” Brooke surveyed her disheveled daughter. “Doesn’t it normally take a couple of days to get this inflamed?”
“When I was a boy, I got it just the same, ma’am. I reckon the storm uncovered that kinda plant. From what I recollect, it could be lots worse. Ya should get her over to Dr. Schilling. She has an ointment that’ll heal it up in no time at all.”