When Night Falls

by Kayla Krantz

  “It’ll be like old times,” he said. “I miss high school, honestly. The whole “real world” thing isn’t working for me as well as it is for everyone else.”

  I smiled at him. “You haven’t changed.”

  “I’d like to think I’ve gotten smarter.” He pulled a book from his backpack and began reading. I couldn’t seem to stop smiling. It was hard to believe so much time could pass without us talking and the friendship remain so unhindered. I pulled my laptop from my bag and hooked up my camera. I sorted through the pictures I had taken, my eyelids growing heavier with each moment. I focused on the black and white picture of the bones, playing with the contrast and highlighting the size of each bone in the rib cage.

  The next time I opened my eyes, Riley was gone. I sat up, wiping at my face as I set my laptop aside. His empty bottle sat on the floor beside mine. I stood up and glanced around. I couldn’t hear any sounds of life from within the cabin. For a moment, I wondered if they had all abandoned me here. I walked to the big bedroom and knocked on the door.

  “Come in!” Natalie called.

  “Hey, sis, have you seen Riley?” I asked, poking my head into the room. She shook her head and frowned, setting her phone aside. “No, I haven’t. Maybe he’s with Hunter?”

  “Hunter never came back?” I asked.

  Natalie shrugged. “He was gone when I woke up, and Riley was too. I figured they went out together.”

  “Maybe,” I said, digging for the keys in my pocket, “but something doesn’t feel right about this. I’ll go look for them.”

  “I’ll stay here and let you know if they come back.”

  I hurried outside to the car, hoping that Natalie and Hunter weren’t just playing some cruel joke on me. Then I thought about Riley’s disappearance as well—he would never pull something stupid like that, not on me, at least.

  I squinted through the darkness as I drove, wondering where they could’ve gone together without a vehicle in the middle of nowhere.

  The only thing around here is the lake.

  I shifted to reverse and turned toward the land bridge. Riley knew there was something dangerous in the woods; why would he go out in the middle of the night?

  Unless he noticed that Hunter never came back.

  “Damn it, Riley. Why not wake me up?” I muttered to myself.

  I glanced toward the water before returning my gaze to the road. I gasped, jerking the wheel when I saw there was something in the road. It wasn’t human… and it wasn’t like anything I had ever seen. A tire got stuck in a pit of rocks, fish-tailing the back of the car at a violent angle. I scrambled to fix it, but it was too late. The car flipped over and slid down the hill, towards the water. I struggled to break the seatbelt before the car went under. The last thing I felt was the steering wheel in my ribs before the world faded to black.

  I woke up in a dark room, as black as my unconsciousness had been, with heavy binds around my ankles. It took me a few minutes to become fully awake—which is when I realized I was hanging upside down. I panicked. Blood rushed to my head, making me dizzy. My heart pounded with fear. I grasped at my ankles, trying to reach them. My fingers grazed them, but then, a sound clicked and the room filled with blinding light. I froze, struggling to regain my vision.

  A man stood before me. He seemed to be a few years older than me, and a smile was carved into his hardened face. “This is such dreadful etiquette,” he said. “I would apologize, my dear, except there are things we must do out here which may seem ‘unorthodox’ to city folk like yourself.”

  “W-who are you?” I asked. “What’s going on?”

  That’s when I caught sight of the knife in his hand. Glancing down, I saw a bucket beneath me… and red tiles below that. Frightening, my eyes darted to the corner nearest me, where I saw the remains of a severed arm…a human arm.

  “A few must die, so we can live,” he said. The blade seemed to glimmer. It wasn’t dull.

  “Let me go!” I pleaded, as he stepped closer. I tried to reach for the binds again, groaned at the strain in my back. I swung on the ropes and turned my attention turned back to him.

  “I’m sorry, but I can’t,” he whispered.

  I closed my eyes as the knife inched closer. Before it pierced my skin, I heard a thump. I opened my eyes to see the man was lying on the floor. Riley stood above him, clutching a heavy rock in his hand. He looked rugged, with blood dotting his face and arms and his clothes ripped, as if he had run through a field of thorns.

  “Caroline! We have to get out of here,” he puffed, throwing the rock aside as he picked up the knife off the floor and slit the ropes around my ankles.

  I swallowed heavily as he helped me to the ground. “What’s happening? Where’s Hunter?”

  “He’s dead,” Riley said, pulling me from the room. There wasn’t an ounce of emotion in his voice, besides fear. He bolted from the room and into the night, with me struggling to keep up with him. I wasn’t sure how badly I had been damaged in the accident, but the more I moved, the more I became aware of the painful bruises and cuts across my body.

  “What do you mean? What happened?” I screamed.

  “Those people—they…they killed him. Ripped him apart like steak. They would’ve done the same to me to protect themselves, but I fought them off. Th-there’s something wrong here.”

  I gagged. The arm in the room was likely his.

  “Something wrong? They’re the ones that are wrong!”

  “No… there are monsters.”

  “Monsters?”

  “I don’t know what else to call them,” he said, quickly. “But I saw one. Th-the blood from Hunter and those other people drew it. I ran before it saw me… but… I... Look, all I know is that we need to get Natalie and get out of here. Now.”

  “What do they look like?” I asked, the pain in my chest making my energy dwindle. Fear was the only thing keeping me on the move. If we didn’t rest soon, even that wouldn’t be enough.

  “I don’t know, I only glimpsed them, but they’re not friendly,” he said. “I have a feeling those bones we found didn’t belong to a deer.”

  That was enough to silence me. We dashed through the trees, our breaths becoming frantic as we tried to find the cabin in the black woods. We were nowhere near the visitor paths. For all I knew, we could’ve run miles in the wrong direction.

  “We’re lost,” he groaned, echoing my thought. This is what I dreaded the most. We came to a stop. I nearly collapse to the ground when a rustling sound came from the nearby trees. Riley grabbed my arm, pulling me closer to him. My heart felt like it would burst.

  “It’s found us, Caroline,” he whispered.

  As the words left his mouth, a creature burst from the trees. Its brown body blended into the foliage, but I could make out more details as it approached us. It looked like a gargoyle straight from the deepest pits of Hell. Suddenly, it leapt toward Riley. All I could hear were his screams as I stood paralyzed in fright.

  “Run!” he screamed at me, as he tried to stab at the creature.

  There was a tearing sound as its claws made contact with Riley. He screamed again, but somehow, my heartbeat seemed louder than he could ever be. A wave of adrenaline surged through me and I lunged toward him and the beast, scooping up the knife from the grass beside him and sinking the blade into the skin between the creature’s shoulders.

  With its large arm, it easily smacked me aside. The blood he had drawn from Riley splashed onto my skin. Riley took the opportunity and wriggled out from underneath as the beast turned towards me. Its sharp, bat-like wings opened into the night as it descended on me, its claws piercing the skin on my shoulders. I howled in pain as it grabbed me, holding me in place as I tried to pull the knife free.

  “Go save Natalie!” I called to Riley. “I’ll hold it off!”

  I was nearly in tears as the beast opened its mouth. Inside was filled with thousands of razor sharp teeth. Its strength was apparent, as it threw me aside, easily knocking me to
the ground again. I glanced once in Riley’s direction to see if he had left. He watched me struggle, his shoulders drooped helplessly. He seemed unconvinced, but was in too much pain to argue. I couldn’t see how bad of a wound the monster had given him. A moment later, he disappeared into the trees. The creature smacked at me again as it landed on top of me, and I wondered just how much time I could buy Riley if I fought to my last breath.

  Whisk me away from the pain of the night; the darkness of myself, and the horror of my mind. Breathe for me when I am no longer capable of doing so, and never give up.

  Dreamcatcher

  THERE’S SOMETHING TO be said for when the weather outside is nearly perfect, yet a storm rages in your mind. I wish it would rain—though it wouldn’t make a difference if it did. One could say the same for the sun, except—without sunglasses or sleeping pills—its presence is a lot harder to ignore. Unfortunately for me, I don’t have access to either of them. There’s a longing in the pit of my gut for the latter of the two.

  I brush a stray tear from the corner of my eye. As my fingers brush against my face, I feel just how puffy and swollen the skin has become. On second thought, maybe the sunglasses would be a better fit. Sniffling, I wipe my nose on the back of my hand. Under any other circumstances, that would seem disgusting, but no one says a word. It’s almost as if they expected my manners to go out the window. Though I’m surrounded by people, it’s easy to pretend that I’m alone, Just me in this sea of grass, watching the open grave not twenty feet ahead of me. I swallow hard and look up at the sky. The weather won’t turn for the worst simply because I wish it would. The world won’t stop turning either.

  Only mine has.

  Oddly enough, this same day that’s brought me such darkness might be the best day of someone else’s life. Even stranger is the thought that, for many people, this day won’t mean anything at all. Tears burn my eyes again, as I resist the urge to cry. I don’t see how I can pull it off anymore, but after what happened to my mother? Anything is possible. Let me start at the beginning. Once, my life was only a metaphorical nightmare, rather than the literal one it has become.

  I pick a piece of lint off my black sleeve and adjust the flower between my fingers—small, but normal, actions to get me through an unordinary day. Each of the rose’s petals seem to take on a different color—just one result of working with hybrids. Botany usually brings me a sense of peace and joy, but not today.

  I’m new to this, being alone in the world. Gazing at my mother’s coffin lying a few feet away is a sobering reminder that this “new” thing is now my life. I can’t go back to how things used to, be no matter how much I want to—not anymore.

  Beside me, my best friend, Carson, dips his head in an attempt to catch my eyes. “Are you in there, Evie?” he asks, his grey eyes boring holes into mine.

  I nod and twirl the rose in my fingers, but say nothing. What’s there to say, after all? Carson pulls his lips into a thin, tight line before pushing my charcoal black hair aside. “You’re tough, I get it,” he says, wiping a stray tear off of my face.

  I nod again. It’s a lame way to converse, especially used so many times in a row. But, I want him to know I’ve heard him and that his words keep me going, without actually having to utter words of my own. Without his bright optimism, I’d be left solely to the shadows. I trust he would never do that to me. I hardly feel the tips of his fingers dig into my elbow as he pulls me away from the scene, but I don’t protest. I don’t have it in me. My mother’s coffin is a shadow, looming over the forefront of my brain. Even when it isn’t directly in front of me, it’s all I can see.

  When I blink, it’s gone—replaced by her bloody, broken body on the bathroom floor. When my consciousness returns, I’m in the passenger seat of Carson’s car. He gives me a sideways glance through wisps of his blond hair, but it takes me a full minute to realize I’m crying. The water feels ridiculously warm on my skin, and I move so fast to wipe it away that I nearly smack myself in the face.

  “It’s okay, Evie,” he assures me, as another tear breaks free.

  This time, I let it go. He’s right. Why am I fighting it? My mom just committed suicide, yet I’m more worried about what people will think of me crying.

  I disgust myself sometimes, I do.

  “Where are we going?” I ask, my voice sounding raspy. My throat is so dry and rough that it actually hurts.

  “I already know what you’re going to say, but I feel like we could both use some food in our stomachs,” he says. His hands grip the steering wheel.

  “But I’m not hungry,” I protest.

  Carson shakes his head. “You’re going to eat, Evie. You need to take care of yourself.”

  I frown and rest my cheek on the window. I want so badly to argue, but I just don’t have that in me either. I turn my attention to studying the buildings and plants that we pass as the road leaves the city limits and heads to the outskirts of town. I recognize the dirt path that leads to Carson’s house and look at him expectantly as the truck slows to a halt.

  “Daniel’s here today,” he says quickly, pulling the key from the ignition.

  “Okay,” I say, slumping further down into my seat. I’m reluctant to leave the confines of the car. Daniel has never been my favorite person—his cynicism toward life is less than desirable, especially in my current mood—but he is Carson’s brother, and for that reason only, I deal with him rain or shine.

  I follow Carson into the house. He disappears into the kitchen, leaving me to stand awkwardly by myself in the living room. I spin around once, tugging my sleeves down over my wrists, before I sit on the couch. Pots and pans clang as Carson moves around the kitchen, throwing something together.

  Just as I begin to relax, I hear footsteps on the stairs. A thousand emotions flood over me at once. By the time Daniel comes around the wall into the living room, I’m prepared.

  “Hello,” I say curtly, eyes on the television across the room.

  “Woo, girl, you look like hell,” he says. Without a break in his stride, he joins Carson in the kitchen.

  A tear slips from my eye, but I hardly notice it. I glare at Daniel’s short blonde hair. “Yeah, just got to it.”

  He pauses and glances over his shoulder to crack a smile. “What’s up your ass today?”

  “Hey, man, chill,” Carson says, appearing in the living room. He leans over to whisper something in his brother’s ear. I know he told him, but Daniel’s expression doesn’t change. He blinks at his brother, then returns his gaze to me. “Sucks,” he says, disappearing into the kitchen, leaving Carson with an apologetic look on his face.

  “Sorry,” he says. “Food’s almost ready,” he offers as an afterthought, before following his brother to the kitchen. I turn my attention to the television once again. I’m almost grateful for the anger Daniel has caused me. It’s a distraction, a vital ruse to keep me away from the biting pain deep down inside. The more I focus on his snippy comments, the easier it is to forget, for a while, where I had come from…and why I’m here to begin with.

  Daniel strolls back through the living room and toward the stairs, clutching a beer in his hand. He moves without hesitation until he reaches the edge of the room. Then, he pauses, glancing at me. I narrow my eyes at the television, pretending to not notice him from the corner of my eye.

  “Hey,” he says at last.

  “Yes?” I say, through gritted teeth, barely able to tear my eyes from the television.

  “I know it hurts, but keep your head up, okay? You’ll be fine,” he says. The sound of his footsteps on the stairs marks his departure. My jaw falls. I stare at the spot where he had been standing. Those were the nicest words he’s ever said to me. I’m not sure what to do with them. I don’t have much time to decide before Carson comes back into the room, carrying a plate of spaghetti and cup of tea.

  “Eat, please,” he says, pulling out a T.V. tray to set them on.

  I stare at the food for the longest time, but I don’t feel hun
gry. I feel bad turning down his generosity, but the last thing I want to do is eat. “Thank you,” I say to him anyway, picking up the fork. That seems to satisfy him, as he sits on the couch next to me. We both fall silent, watching the television, and occasionally hearing Daniel’s stomping footsteps upstairs. I don’t eat, and Carson pretends not to notice. Less than an hour later, he cleans up the dishes and we’re back on the road again, though I have no recollection of actually getting back in the car.

  I pick at my sleeve again, feeling suffocated in my long-sleeved shirt. I turn to the window again, for some kind of distraction—some temporary relief. That’s when I see it. A sign; made of aged wood with sloppy red paint smeared on it.

  “Handmade dreamcatchers,” Carson and I echo one another.

  “Your mom liked that kind of stuff, didn’t she?” he asks.

  I nod. Dreamcatchers, wolves, eagles, anything remotely spiritual.

  “Yeah, she loved dreamcatchers,” I sigh, thinking of the ornate one she had painted on the living room ceiling. “She believed in bad luck and karma. I think the dreamcatchers made her feel safe. Whenever she’d have a particularly bad spout of anxiety or depression, she believed the dreamcatchers would take her pain for her.”

  I never had the heart to tell her otherwise.

  Carson smiles and flicks on his turning signal, oblivious to the memories flitting through my mind.

  “Where are we going?” I ask, sniveling as I wipe away a layer of tears.

  “We’re going to see what those dreamcatchers look like.”

  That brings a smile to my face.

  ***

  THE ADDRESS ON the sign leads us out of town and down an old road people stopped using years ago. I have my reservations, but Carson doesn’t show a hint of worry. The trees send flickers of light across the car as he drives us to our destination, as confident as he had been an hour before. I let him keep the mood—after all; he’s always been the logical one.