“Hey guys,” Tremaine said as she went to the drawer with the pantry items. She grabbed a granola bar and dashed out, “Bye. Have a nice day.”
“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” Danny chuckled. “What’s the big rush?”
“I’m meeting Hannah before school so we can ride our bikes together.”
“I’ve just never seen you move so fast at eight o’clock in the morning,” Danny teased.
Josey raised her head. Tremaine gulped. Josey said, “You look like a corpse. Fitting for the island, at least.”
“Gee, thanks, Ma.”
Josey accused, “Did you stay up on your phone all night?”
“No,” Tremaine rolled her eyes.
“Don’t get sassy like that!” Josey pointed her finger to the door, “Now get to steppin’.”
“Fine,” Tremaine walked to the door.
“We love you!” Danny called.
“I know,” she muttered as she left through the back entrance. She scaled down the steps and hopped onto her bike. She leaned over the handlebars and checked her basket for any notes. She sighed in relief, as she found nothing.
The night before, Hannah texted Tremaine her house address near the school. It sat up on the steep hills that surrounded the town. Tremaine struggled to make it up the hill on her bike, but she managed once she got in a rhythm. She stopped at the end of her street, overlooking the island grocery store and post office. The view was stunning, and through the far off mountain peaks she could see the misty ocean. She continued down the road and stopped at the only house on it.
Tremaine looked past the gate to see a dark brick chateau-like house with bushes crowding the front and vines crawling up the corners. Wild flowers grew by the detached garage. There was a wrap around gravel driveway with a fountain in the middle. The angel statue in the fountain had a finger that was cut off and was missing a part of her shoulder. It was cracked almost everywhere.
Hannah rode her banana-colored bike to the end where Tremaine was parked. Tremaine, still staring at the building, said, “You have a really nice house.”
Hannah gave a meek smile, “Thanks. I know it looks like a vampire or something lives here.”
“Yeah, it does," Tremaine smirked. “It looks rustic.”
“I could show you the inside after school. I swear it’s better looking.”
“Cool.”
Hannah and Tremaine rode their bikes down the hill. Hannah seemed to slide effortlessly down while Tremaine, unfamiliar with the road, kept braking and lagging behind. When they were en sync on the main road, Hannah asked, “So what was so important you had to tell me in person?”
“I was just paranoid… if I texted…”
Hannah slowed down, mimicking Tremaine’s speed, “What?”
“It would know. Because I wrote it.”
Hannah chuckled nervously, “It?”
“I’ve been getting these notes, literally out of thin air,” Tremaine explained, her voice a whisper. “Notes that said ‘why did you come in my house’ and ‘don’t ignore me.’”
“Your neighbor?”
“It’s the only one who could be doing it,” Tremaine said, “Don’t know how a monster like that could write, but it found a way.”
Hannah and Tremaine rode into the parking lot of the school, bypassing the carpool drop off and heading to the bike rack by the student union building. As Hannah locked her bike to the rack, she said, “This sounds like a passing technique. It’s like passing notes through thin air. My brother, Zac, has experienced it. I told both my brothers about what happened the other night, and they scolded me for going in there alone and breaking in, but they were interested in what happened. You should come by my house after school, and schedule an appointment.”
“An appointment?” Tremaine asked. She didn’t tell her parents that she went into the tower, and she wasn’t planning on it either. She would rather suffer the eeriness of the notes than risk Hannah or her brothers mentioning that the girls had trespassed on the tenant. “I think I’m good.”
“Oh, come on,” Hannah urged. “Just come on over.”
They entered the classroom and sat down at her desk. Hannah kept trying to persuade Tremaine to talk with Zac, but she shut her down each time. Tremaine unzipped her book bag to pull out her notebook. Dozens of pieces of paper fell out. Hannah stopped talking, and a few students looked behind at Tremaine to see why she had so much clutter with her.
I WILL SEND YOU MESSAGES UNTIL YOU RESPOND.
Tremaine gave Hannah the piece of paper. She pulled out another slip from her bag.
I WILL SEND YOU MESSAGES UNTIL YOU RESPOND.
She sighed and picked another.
I WILL SEND YOU MESSAGES UNTIL YOU RESPOND.
Tremaine frowned, lowering her head. Feeling defeated, she took the pen that always appeared with the notes and simply said, “I respond.” The paper disappeared from her desk, her palms, and from Hannah’s grip. Hannah caught Tremaine’s eyes.
Tremaine nodded, and said, “Alright, okay. I’ll talk to your brother about it. But I’m not scheduling anything.”
Tremaine followed Hannah into the foyer. It was surprisingly well lit, with a narrow staircase and a mahogany table in the middle, holding a vase filled with dying poinsettias leftover from Christmas. Medieval European art hung on the wall, mostly of biblical interpretations.
“Yeah, so this is it!” Hannah’s voice echoed. She waved her hand upward, “upstairs” and then lowered it, “downstairs,” and then pointed to the ground, “basement. Now you know the whole house.”
“It’s nice,” Tremaine complimented. “Are your folks here?”
Hannah dropped her bag down by the stairs, “Both my parents spend their time at the country club on the vacation side of the island. They bring home a lot of food for dinner, so I don’t care,” Hannah gave a small shrug, but then her eyes lit up, “But! I think Zac might be here. Let me check.”
Unsure of what to do, Tremaine followed Hannah into the kitchen. It was old fashioned, with an old fireplace sticking out of the wall. It was obviously renovated, with new cabinets and stainless steel appliances. She could practically smell the new wood. In the middle of the room was an island counter with a bar. A man was sitting there with a pristine-looking laptop and a cup of coffee. He turned around when he heard the girls enter the kitchen.
“Zaccaria,” Hannah started. “This is my friend, Tremaine Boppel.”
Zac stood from the stool. He towered over Tremaine, and she felt the need to back up, but didn’t. His combed back hair was an auburn color, and his eyes were blue. His clothing was dark and clearly expensive. They shook hands. “It’s nice to meet you, Tremaine. I hope you don’t find our island too disturbing.”
“It’s been hard with the amount of notes I’ve been getting,” Tremaine mentioned. Hannah explained what Tremaine had told her, mentioning the time they went into the tower as well.
“That sounds like he’s using a passing technique,” Zaccaria went over to his laptop. He opened up an unpublished draft from the online journal and scaled down the page. His finger stopped in the middle of the page, “From what I have recorded here, the passing technique is used to pass objects through thin air to the desired target. It’s a complicated trick, and even sending something as small as a pebble,” Zac took away from quoting the text, and looked at Tremaine “or in your case, a piece of paper can take a lot of energy out of the sender. From my view, this isn’t a big deal. It’s very creepy and annoying, yes, but it’s not harmful. I’ve dealt with this before, though, and it’s very hard to find the sender.”
“It’s the guy living in Tremaine’s tower, though!” Hannah interjected, “I just know it! Plus, he’s non-human. We saw it.”
“Unless Tremaine’s parents schedule an appointment with me to investigate the tower,” Zac explained, “then I have no authority to look further into this.”
Hannah frowned, crossing her arms. Tremaine said, “My… parents don’t know about it. Plu
s, if I told them what is happening with me concerning the notes, not mentioning the tower incident, they would laugh in my face.”
“I understand,” Zac said. He pulled out a card from his pocket and gave it to Tremaine. “If you do end up telling your parents about this, you have my contact information.”
“Cool, thanks.”
“But… the notes!” Hannah told Tremaine.
“It’s fine,” Tremaine said.
“No, it’s not,” Hannah glanced at Tremaine and then stared at her brother. “Remember the Johnson’s? One day it’s faint knocking on the door, and then the next day they got a full-blown poltergeist!”
“We don’t handle demons or ghosts; you know that. That’s something for the Church to do.”
Hannah groaned, “That’s not my point.”
“Hannah, please, it is just note passing. Remember when it happened to me? Sure, it’s supernatural, but it’s not that big of a deal,” Zaccaria said. “It was nice meeting you Tremaine, but I have to get back to my work.”
Hannah paused for a moment, “I’ll just go ask René to take care of it. I’m sure he would be more than willing to.”
Zac eyes widened, “Don’t utter a word to him, I swear to God if you do…”
“Who is René again?” Tremaine asked.
“Second oldest brother. The nurse.” Hannah said, “He’s kind of-"
“Impulsive, and unfit to be in the profession he’s in now,” Zac finished. “If you don’t leave me alone, Hannah, I’ll call up Mom right now and tell her not to bring any dinner home for you from Old Tourmaline.” Zac frowned and turned to Tremaine, “I apologize for my sister’s persistence.”
“Persistence?” Hannah sneered.
Zac started to berate Hannah on her attitude, as his younger sister bit back and complained about him being unambitious. Tremaine said goodbye to Hannah but doubted that they heard her over the quarreling. She slipped out of the kitchen and left the estate.
“Hey, mom,” Tremaine said as she entered Video World. She went over to the counter.
Her mother forcibly put down her fashion magazine, and slowly turned her head towards Tremaine. She growled, “You.”
“What?” Tremaine’s heart quickened as her mother stalked over to the counter, “Did I do something?”
“Your balcony doors were left open!”
“W-What? No, I didn’t leave them-"
“Don’t interrupt!” Josey snapped, “After you left for school and after your father and I had opened the store, I came back up and it was as cold as a freakin’ icebox.”
“I didn’t leave the doors open.”
Josey gave a single laugh and then went back to frowning, “You wasted so much money on heating, don’t you realize that? Good for our bill, I was there. They’re closed up tight now.”
Why would my doors be open? Tremaine thought. As soon as she realized what it might be, her stomach churned. She could barely keep a straight face. She looked at her mother, “I’m sorry. So sorry. I’ll pay you back.”
Tremaine rushed behind the counter and headed to the door. Josey watched as her daughter ran, and continued to speak, “I don’t need you to pay me back, I just want you to know not to-" Josey couldn’t finish her sentence as Tremaine ran up the stairs to the apartment.
Tremaine ran to the kitchen first, making sure not to look back. She opened the drawer by the sink and pulled out a butcher knife. The small pocketknife that Uncle Donny gave her would not do.
She knew if she told her mother, she would laugh in her face and scold her for making up stories. Her father would probably play along and then mock her for coming weeks, as so many fathers do. She had to either ward off the creature herself or prove it was real. After she had put the knife in her coat pocket, she pulled out her phone. She changed the settings so her phone would stay on and unlocked, her camera app at the ready.
After glancing at the door to the video store, double-checking to make sure it was closed. She called out to the emptiness of the apartment for the invader to come out. She walked through the dining room, checking under the table. In the foyer, she shouted the same sentence, and then went into the living room to do the same thing. She checked the bathroom, the spare room, and her parent’s bedroom. Behind curtains, in cabinets, and under beds. There was no sign of intrusion.
Which means only one place unturned. Tremaine looked up fearfully to the spiral stairs of her loft. She couldn’t stay down here all day. She climbed her loft stairs one step at a time. She made sure not to make a lot of noises. Her breathing became heavier with every step. When she finally made it to the top, she felt a sudden coldness. She looked over and saw her doors open again. But Ma said she closed them. Tremaine kept her back to the wall, knowing that the creature or demon was in her room. She could feel his presence. Without even facing the door, she closed them. He opened the doors to get me unnerved, I bet. That monster.
She looked over to her bed. Her covers were left unmade and were crumpled up as usual. She bent down quickly and checked under her bed. All that was there was a pair of headphones. She went to her closet and checked inside. She took a spare wire hanger and twisted it up. She started poking at random parts in her closet, and when she didn’t see anything there, she banged on her closet door.
“I know you’re in here, freak!” When there was no answer, she turned around to face her room and threatened, “If you don’t come out. I’ll call the hunters. Zac St. Charles? Yeah, I know him.”
“Oh, la-di-da,” a muffled voice said. Tremaine spun around and listened. She clenched her fists, ready to attack. She spun around. The voice spoke again, “Checking in the closet? Such a cliché.”
“Where are you?” snarled Tremaine.
A figure emerged from the covers. “You don’t have to be so loud; it’s just us in here.” The figure stood, stretching, “You took forever to get home, so I thought I would just lay here until you came.”
He matched the description of one of the online journal’s entries, but Tremaine couldn’t remember which. All she saw in her panic were shades of black, gray, and white. She fumbled her hands over her dresser, finding the switch to her lamp. With the light, she spotted his gray hand and the sharp nails, and a thin tail behind him. She paid no mind to his normal attributes, such as his small size, the white freckles on his face, or his worn leather jacket with the fur lining. He was just a grey-skinned monster at the moment. “The hell are you?”
“Oh, me?” He shrugged, flipping his long, black hair over his shoulder, “I’m just your tenant, paying you four hundred dollars a month so I can have a place to call home. Mind you, it’s a studio, so I don’t even get to put a bed in there.” He took a step forward, “I mean, you know, don’t you? You’ve been in my abode; you know what it looks like. I came here to figure out why you so kindly visited me that night.”
“I… that’s not what I meant!” Tremaine voice was shaking, “What are you?”
“Uh-uh-uh, you came into my house,” He waved a finger in the air, “I get to ask the questions. Why did you break in? What’s your game? You’re with those hunters, aren’t you?”
“You know, what,” Anger replaced fear. She whipped out the butcher knife, and pointed it straight at the creature, “You’re in my house now, freak. You rent our tower. I get to ask the questions.”
“If I were a piece of celery, trust me, I would be petrified,” the thing laughed. Tremaine gritted her teeth and moved forward with the knife. His smile dropped, and it rose its hands, “Okay, chill, chill!”
“Sit down,” Tremaine commanded.
He took a seat on the bed, “Okay, I’m sitting. Happy?”
“Now,” Tremaine took her free hand and pushed her hair back behind her ear, “tell me what you are.”
He shrugged, and rose his arms in a questioning gesture, “I gotta lot of names. Demon. Krampus. Goatman. I’m in many stories, and I got many different personalities.” He formed both hands into gun shapes, and pointed them towar
d Tremaine, “My personal title is Skyler Hornbostel, but I can be whatever you want me to be, babe.”
Tremaine blushed, “Be straight with me.”
“Okay, okay,” he sighed, “My nickname is the Goatman, here in Maryland. I’m technically what they call the Krampus… but mostly in Europe. I know I don’t look like one yet, 'cause I'm supposed to have horns, but I’m just a late bloomer.”
“So… you’re not human?”
He laughed, “Have you seen a human with gray skin? I sure as hell haven’t!”
“How old are you?”
“Thirteen, just like you,” He said. Tremaine felt uneasy. How does he know how old I am? He looked at the knife, “Can you put that thing down, please?”
Tremaine ignored his request, “So that smoke thing the other night…was that you? Or someone older, like your parents?”
“Nah, that was an apparition,” he admitted. “What was I suppose to do? You come up to my apartment with a St. Charles sibling, and I’m just suppose to be at the door with a martini like some sort of homemaker?”
“You wouldn’t answer the door,” Tremaine tried to justify.
He scoffed, “What? You broke into my house because I wouldn’t answer the door? The Jehovah’s Witnesses would just love you!”
“Why did you keep sending me notes in all caps? That was creepy, you know.”
He laughed in an exasperated way, “Because you broke into my house, woman! I thought you were going to poison the food in my fridge or something! Jesus H. Christ, victim complex much? I even cooked a nice casserole for your family, and what do you do in return? You invade my space.”
While Sky was talking, Tremaine crept her hand into her pocket and whipped out her phone. While holding her phone low, she snapped a picture. It would have gone unnoticed if it weren’t for the obvious flash that she forgot to turn off.
Samhain Island (Episode One) Page 5