I got him up to bed and cleared the table; then, I set about doing the dusting and putting away I’d procrastinated on. The day was finally catching up with me; I decided to take my book to bed and read until I fell asleep.

Just when I was almost ready to call it a night, I saw it again, this time standing in front of my door. It was made of shadow, hunched over, with a face kind of like a praying mantis–though its body looked more like that of a spider. Those glowing red eyes, the gaping mouth, the needle-point teeth–they were the only things that stood out against what was otherwise just a silhouette. Startled, I shrieked and threw my book at it. It made a loud thud as it hit the door and fell to the floor. Nothing was there; had I imagined it? I must have; maybe some sort of weird half-dream state had brought that earlier trick of light back. The mind pieces things together in odd ways sometimes, I told myself.

I heard my dad mumbling in the next room. In my younger years I had always let him be, but he was in my care right now; I figured I ought to at least make sure he was ok. I crept closer and closer to his room, and listened through the door.

“It…it was a long time ago. I never meant for any of this to happen. Please…”

I opened the door. My dad sat straight up, staring blankly ahead.

“I swear, I didn’t do it. It’s not my fault. It’s not my fault!”

I rushed to his side and shook him awake.

“Dad, dad, dad, you’re having a dream! Breathe, dad, breathe!”

He looked up at me, confused. “I’m sorry honey, did I wake you?”

“No, dad, I was awake. You were talking in your sleep. Is everything ok?”

“Yes, honey, just a bad dream is all.”

“Well, I’m worried about you, dad. That kind of stress is bad for you after your surgery. Maybe we need to talk to a sleep specialist.”

He gave me a pained look and sank back into his pillow. “I’ve had enough dealing with doctors lately.”

“Dad…”

“I know, I know! It’s just…”

“What?”

“Oh, nothing. I’m fine, I swear! Let’s just go back to bed and forget about it, ok?”

“Ok,” I said skeptically.

“I love you, Michelle. I really am glad you’re here.”

“I know, me too.”

Satisfied that he’d fallen back asleep, I went to bed myself. No more visits from shadows, unless you counted the ones the moon cast through the window. There was an eerie quiet like there had always been – no crickets, owls or other creatures seemed to dwell here – but that was as it had always been. I slept a dreamless sleep, and awoke to the smell of sizzling bacon.

Dad was awake and sitting at the table, his plate piled with bacon and greasy fried eggs.

“Dad!” 

“Oh, you’re awake. I made breakfast.”

I took his plate. 

“Come on, not mine, Michelle!”

“You can’t eat stuff like this anymore, Dad. Look, I made you overnight oats.” I pulled a mason jar full of oatmeal and fruit from the fridge and gave him a clean spoon. “Eat that.”

He sighed but took the spoon obediently, and I started scraping the food into the composting bin. Not like there was much point in composting; nothing grew here anyway. Save the trees, in the forest. I was looking at them again. What was in there? I wondered if anyone had dared step foot in those woods. It was windy out today though, and the branches made the trees seem friendlier somehow, as if they were waving, or asking me to join. Join whom?

I busied myself doing dishes when I heard a spoon clatter to the floor. Turning around, I saw him, slack-jawed and wide-eyed. I wiped my soapy hands and went to his side.

“Dad? Dad, are you okay?”    

No reply.

“Hey Dad! The oatmeal isn’t that bad.” I laughed at my own attempt at humor, but it sounded out of place.

His lips were moving, then came a breathy chanting: ‘Nahder, nahder, nahder.”

“What are you saying? I can’t understand.”

“Nah der, nah der.” But I understood now, “Not her! Not her!” He was screaming now. I’d never seen anything like this, not during the day.

“Not who, Dad?” I shouted, my hands had started to shake. I spun my head to where his eyes were focused. Nothing, but–yes, there was something. A small shadow. Was it just my imagination or was the shadow growing larger?

“Not her, not her.” His voice was softer. I stepped closer to the shadow on the wall. It had grown larger. The shadow reached out to me and I felt it touch my skin with a cold yet electrifying darkness that crept through my nerves and into my vision until there was nothing but black.

I awoke hours later.

I surveyed my surroundings. I lay on the couch, boots on my feet and a trail of partially dried mud leading from the door to my current location. There was mud up to my knees, and on my hands, as though I’d been crawling in it. That couldn’t be right…I tried to think back and figure out if I could remember any dreams I’d had or things I’d done. All I could gather, though, was a sense of a voice, or a chorus of voices, saying three words: We’re down here.

Now my mind began to wander, and I felt an overwhelming sense of panicked guilt. I was the reason my dad was in such poor health; I should have done more to take care of him, these past few years. He needed me and I hadn’t been around as much as I should have. I should have made sure he ate better and saw a doctor once in a while. I should have been there for him before that, too. When he had these night terrors–I should have pushed him to talk about what was going on. I had let Andrea down as well–I hadn’t been a good enough big sister to her. Maybe if I’d tried to help her then, she wouldn’t have left. I suddenly felt as though my energy were being sucked out of me.

Well, that’s what guilt does to you, I said to myself.

And speaking of my dad, where was he?

“Dad? Dad, where are you?” No answer.

He wasn’t in the living room, so I searched the kitchen. Not there. I went into the basement, upstairs, everywhere else in the house–nowhere to be seen.

I stepped outside and called for him again, no answer. I scanned the area; he was standing in front of one of the large barn windows.

“Dad, what are you doing?” I called, but he didn’t answer. 

I ran up to him, and touched his arm gingerly. “Dad…”

His eyes were glazed over, and his mouth was open as though he’d been surprised, or caught doing something. He continued to stare. I glanced in the same direction; I saw a brief flash of a silhouette, and it appeared to be…smiling. Mind’s playing tricks on me again…It was too dark; how could I make that out? And then it was gone. 

I shook him this time. “DAD!!!”

He shook, and slowly turned his head to me. “Michelle…”

“Dad, what are you doing? You should be resting.”

“Sorry, I just thought…”

“Just thought what?”

“Well, I thought…I thought I saw someone. I think it was just my mind playing tricks on me.” He looked me up and down. “What have you been up to?”

I looked down at my mud-stained pants. “Yeah, about that…I don’t know what happened. Guess you’re not the only one who needs to see a sleep specialist. Seriously, though, you’re sure you didn’t see anyone?”

“Well, I’m pretty sure. Anyway, I have the shotgun downstairs; I’ll keep it handy just in case. Sounds paranoid I know, but I’d feel a lot better.”

“Dad, I’ll keep it handy. You just focus on resting.”

A resigned sigh. “Ok.”

“Now let’s get you back inside, and I’ll get myself cleaned up. Looks like the laundry’s overdue anyway.” 

He chuckled. “Usually is.”

As we walked toward the house, I heard the words We’re down here in my head again, but I just shook my head and continued on.

True to my word, I grabbed the shotgun from downstairs and threw in a load of laundry. I did my best to scrub the mud off my hands and face, and the kitchen and living room floors. 

And the blood from under my fingernails.

My dad had insisted on teaching us to defend ourselves, so we’d been out to the gun range many times. Andrea hated guns, but I’d taken to them well and I was a pretty decent shot. I didn’t know why anyone would be creeping around here, but given the odd things my dad and I were both seeing, it didn’t hurt to have extra precautions in place. Plus, I knew it would make my dad feel better, and the last thing I needed was him getting worked up.

That night, I awoke to the moonlight streaming in the window and casting shadows in the room. I heard that voice again, and felt an urge to look out the window toward the woods. I saw a boy who couldn’t have been older than ten. His pale skin and blonde hair mirrored the moonlight. 300 yards away and I could see him smiling. Come play with me, the smile said, it’s been so long. Had I dreamt him, too? 

He beckoned to me and I walked down the stairs, through the kitchen and out into the night. I closed the distance between us, but he turned into the woods: Back there.

I followed. He came upon the stream and stopped. Then came a chorus of voices. We’re down here, they said, over and over again. I covered my ears but it did nothing.

“Why are we here?” I turned around, but the boy was gone.

I turned back toward the stream, and in the water, I saw glowing red eyes and sharp white teeth. A face that screamed hunger. It appeared to be smiling, some horrific, self-satisfied grin. Then in my head I heard a whisper: “It’s your fault. All of this is your fault.”

I awoke in a cold sweat, and sat up. I was in my bed. Feeling my pulse work its way down, I took a drink of water and slowly calmed myself. What an odd dream…I looked at the clock. It was 7:08 a.m. Time to get dad up and get some breakfast in him.

I passed the time as I had the day before: helping my dad out of bed, feeding him, doing dishes and other cleaning tasks. I was pleased; the house was starting to look semi-presentable.

He sat across the kitchen table from me, considering the cards in his hand. He looked up and said, “You know, I’ve been thinking. In a few more days I should be well enough to take care of myself; I don’t see why you need to stay three weeks. I couldn’t put that on you.”

“Dad, the family leave was already approved. Besides, it’s been nice spending time with you.”

“Well, maybe you should take a trip, do something for yourself for a change.”

“Dad, it’s not up for discussion. I’m staying.”

“This place, it’s just…”

“Dad, what about this place? What’s wrong?”

He coughed. “Well…I just think a young girl like yourself should be getting out and having fun, not stuck in the middle of nowhere with an old man like me.”

I snorted. “Are you trying to tell me I don’t get out enough? Ouch!” I jerked back in my chair like I’d been wounded.

He looked embarrassed, guilty even. “Dad, I was kidding!!! For what it’s worth, I’ve been thinking about doing just that; I’m thinking Hawaii maybe, in a few months.”

“Ok…” he trailed off. He had a worried look on his face.

“Dad, what’s bothering you?”

“Oh, nothing sweetie. I just feel like I’ve failed you and Andrea a thousand times over.”

“Dad, you were a single dad running a business and raising two kids. You did an amazing job. No more shoulda woulda couldas, ok?”

“I guess you’re right.” He went back to eyeing his cards thoughtfully. I had the vague sense that something was still eating away at him, but I didn’t want to push too much. I’d continue to try and get it out of him little by little, I told myself.

“Sweetie, I’m really tired. I think I wanna turn in early.” It was only about seven p.m., but I wasn’t about to argue. If the man needed rest, I’d make sure he got it.

“Sure thing, dad.”

I stood looking into the barn; at some point the doors had been opened. Had I opened them? I entered and looked around; the equipment and tools all looked newer and well cared for. The floor was all dirt; no grass like I remembered. I walked a little bit further, until I was at about the middle of the barn. There was a dim yellow light shining in one of the back corners; was someone here?

Then I heard it: a scream that pierced the air. The sound of undeniable agony. I could feel it in my bones. I had to make it stop. It was coming from behind the tractor; I couldn’t make out the source, but I did see a partial silhouette of a man, kneeling down. Behind him, a small shadow began to form, slowly growing just a little more in size until it was about the size of a small rodent–it looked like what I’d seen before, but much, much smaller. Same glowing red eyes. Same gnashing white teeth. It was hunched over, like it was feeding on something; I couldn’t tell what. Whatever it was, the thing ate greedily, with that same horrendous grin on its face. The man turned his head and looked at me.

When I came to, I was standing in front of the barn. The doors were closed like always, there was knee-high grass peeking out from the bottom like always, everything I could see was rusted and dirty like always. I turned and retched into the grass. Ugh!!! Sleepwalking again; this was really starting to worry me. 

Glancing toward the house, then the woods, I saw that boy again, only this time he didn’t smile. I supposed that was what happened when you…

We’re down here…

It hit me then, that I’d seen this before. As a small child, I’d wandered out here one night and seen everything I just saw. I wasn’t sure why I hadn’t remembered until this point; maybe I’d suppressed the memory?

Just then a deep, guttural laugh roused me from my musings. The boy slowly faded to nothing, and that thing appeared again. I’m going to make you pay for what you’ve done. The voice in my head was excruciatingly loud and shrill; I covered my ears reflexively, to no avail. So much to pay for…

And wasn’t it true? I was to blame for so much pain and suffering; I knew in my heart I’d done wrong and would never be able to make up for it. I got down on my knees, put my head in my hands and started sobbing. “It’s all my fault…”

“No, sweetie, it’s my fault.”

    “Dad! Dad, you shouldn’t be out here, you should be in bed.” He stood next to me in his robe. I looked up and saw that his eyes were glowing red.

    We’re down here…we’re down here….

            The noise had risen to a fever pitch. Suddenly, I rose and my legs carried me to the woods. Just have to keep walking...I felt the cool stream on my feet, the water drenching my nightgown. I came to a stop about six feet from the water’s edge, kneeled down, and started digging with my hands. I dug until my hands stung, for what seemed like hours, until I hit something. I rummaged around before I was finally was able to pull it out. I gasped; an RN by trade, I knew what I was holding: A femur, adult, human. Suddenly coming back to myself, I screamed and ran–back across the creek, back toward the barn where I’d left my dad. “Oh God, Dad!”

    I found him in the fetal position, shaking and crying. His eyes were still glowing red, and he was murmuring something I couldn’t make out. “DAD!!!” The glowing faded, and he looked up at me confused. “How did I get here?”

    “Dad, I don’t know; I think you were sleepwalking. Listen, we gotta get you back into bed, ok?”

    He was still dazed. I helped him up and into the house, got him a clean robe and settled him into bed. I didn’t want to think about what I’d seen in the woods. Couldn’t bear to think about it. And that guilt still hung over me. I needed sleep, badly.

    What I saw first upon entering my bedroom was a haggard-looking man in his 40s. He was laying on my bed, bound and gagged. There was fear in his eyes. Fear of what was to come. On the right side of the bed another man stood, with his back to me. He was holding a handsaw…oh, God. I knew what he was about to do. Then I saw that shadow again…this time it was bigger, just slightly taller than me. It reached out to me…

    I bolted. I didn’t know what I’d seen but I was not sleeping in that room tonight. Nope. I ran to the living room and grabbed the shotgun off the mantle. I didn’t know how much good it would do but I felt safer having it next to me. I checked the barrel–yep, one fresh round locked and loaded. I settled into the La-Z-Boy; I needed to change out of my drenched nightgown badly, but I was not going back in that room, not tonight anyway. I dozed off.

    In and out of sleep…more unsettling dreams. I saw a number of people walking through the living room that I didn’t recognize, but could do nothing but watch. They all looked unnaturally pale, and sad. So sad.

    At some point the sun started to peek through the windows, and I awoke to the sound of the door being opened. Still frightened, I raised the shotgun, aimed and fired. A pistol girl myself, I’d forgotten the kickback this thing had. The shot hit the ceiling, spraying chunks everywhere. I reloaded. This time I wouldn’t miss. I aimed, and…

    “SHELL, STOP, IT’S ME!!!”

    My sister stood there, shaking, her suitcase at her feet. “Shell!!! What’s going on? Oh my God, look at you! What happened?”

    “Oh my God, I’m so sorry…”

    “See, this is why I think guns are bad. Jesus Christ Shell, you almost shot me!”

    I put the gun down on the floor gingerly. “Dre, things are bad here. You shouldn’t have come.”

    “Uhh, well, that’s not what you said in the voicemail you left me yesterday.”

    “Voicemail? I didn’t leave you a voicemail.”

    “Yes you did. Here,” she said, moving closer then handing me her phone. 

I hit play on the voicemail from me she had pulled up. “Listen, Dre, Dad’s taken a turn for the worse. I don’t think he’s gonna make it much longer. Get here as soon as you can, ok?”

“Oh my God. Dre, I swear I didn’t leave you that message.”

“Then who did?”

I put my head in my hands. “I don’t know…listen, something strange is going on here. I keep seeing this…this…thing.”

“Oh God, you’re seeing it too now? Is it like a shadowy thing, red glowy eyes, sorta looks like a bug?”

Could this thing be real? Or was it some sort of shared psychosis?

“Unless we’re both having the same hallucinations, I’m afraid it’s real,” she said grimly. She went on: “I got Irina to come take a look once.”

“That kooky lady who used to own the magic shop?” I asked incredulously.

“You know, you might not agree, but I believe there are things out there that can’t be explained in normal ways.”

 I looked up at her. “Well, I guess I can’t argue with you there. Anyway, you were saying?”

“She said she felt an ‘incredible sorrow’ coming from the woods–almost like something horrible happened there. And something else, something…that took pleasure in that sorrow…fed off of it, even. I still have no idea what that means, but I feel it somehow. Do you?”

That knocked the wind out of me. “Oh my God…”

“You feel it too, don’t you?”

“I…I’m not sure, but listen…I think I know what happened here…or have an idea anyway.”

I explained what I’d seen…the visions of the man hunched over his victims, the little boy, the voices, the femur I’d found in the woods. She listened with wide, frightened eyes. Then her facial expression changed to one of resignation, despair even. I reached out to comfort her, but she pushed my hand away as though it had burned her. She began to rock back and forth on the couch, crying. “Oh, Shell, I’ve failed both of you. I was such a coward, to just run away like that when you both needed me!”

She continued to sob. I saw the creature slowly appear again. This time it was massive; despite being hunched over at almost a ninety degree angle, its shadowy body reached the ceiling. And her eyes…they were glowing red like my father’s had, like the creature’s were. A shadowy tendril trailed from her to the creature and began to circle her neck. 

“DRE!!!” I shook her hard. Shaken from her trance, she looked at me. “Dre, it’s feeding off of you.”

“What?” The creature appeared to sink from view.

“Yeah, I think that’s how it sustains itself. I think it’s the worst with Dad.”

“Shell…I really didn’t wanna say this but…I think Dad might have been involved, somehow.”

“Involved in killing all those people? No way, that’s Dad you’re talking about!”

“I know, I know, but…why do you think it affected him as much as it did? Why do you think he ranted and raved about how something wasn’t his fault, that he didn’t mean for anything bad to happen, etc etc? Shell, he was involved somehow.”

A pit opened up in my stomach. “Oh, God…you’re right. Oh God…” I sank into the chair and put my head in my hands again. “I should have talked to him about this years ago!” Guilt slammed into me again, like being hit full force with a boulder in the stomach. It settled there, anchoring me down, down, down. I saw the creature again, laughing at me, soaking up my guilt, but I didn’t care anymore. I just wanted it to be over. I deserved this.

“Shell, snap out of it!” My sister shook me, then grabbed me by the arm. “Come on, we gotta go check on Dad and figure out what this is all about. I don’t know if it will help but we gotta do something.”

I followed her up the stairs. We opened the door to find my dad sitting up, a tortured expression on his face. I went to his side, shaking him awake for what seemed like the hundredth time of late.

Shock came across his face when he saw that Andrea was also there. “Andrea…what are you doing here? You should be in Boston, going to classes.”

She sat on the other side of his bed and took his hand. “I know Dad, I just…really wanted to see you, ok?” 

He smiled. “Oh sweetie, I am glad you’re here.”

She pulled her hand away, then, and looked at him with a more serious, frightened expression. “Dad, that’s not the only reason I’m here,” she said. 

“Yeah, Dad…this isn’t gonna be easy but we need to ask you about something.”

We explained the visions, the conversation we’d just had and the visit from Irina. 

With a pain in his eyes I’d never seen before, my dad began telling the story he’d kept from us all our lives.

His parents had been about 40 when he’d been born, and by the time he was 25 they’d decided to retire and move to Arizona. This left him, and his brother Richard, in charge of the family business in Minnesota. I’d known about Richard, but he’d disappeared before I was born. 

Now, growing up my dad always knew Richard wasn’t like other kids. He would often find mutilated squirrels and rabbits in the woods; he knew it was Richard. He tried to rationalize it away; Richard was his brother and he loved him. Looked up to him even. Richard was always able to make himself appear normal; my dad even bought it for a time.

Not long after my grandparents moved to Arizona, a rash of disappearances had started happening all over central Minnesota. Hitchhikers, stranded motorists, people who stepped out for a smoke, all disappeared and never came back. He remembered that time well. People in the area began to be suspicious of each other, and everyone was afraid to go out at night. The people who disappeared didn’t have any type of appearance, age or gender; authorities theorized that this was simply a crime of opportunity. My dad had this horrible suspicion that Richard was responsible, but he pushed those thoughts aside thinking, as he always had, that his suspicions were unreasonable. This was Richard, the brother he’d always loved, and had always been able to rely on.

During one particularly busy summer, the construction company’s resources were spread pretty thin. Richard and my dad would often supervise separate sites; my dad had been staying out of town with one of the crews for weeks on end, leaving Richard to supervise the crew that stayed in town. Some of the materials they needed hadn’t come on time and they had to put the project on hold. Thus, my dad had to come home earlier than expected.

He got home sometime on Wednesday evening, and when he pulled up he saw a dim yellow light on in the corner of the barn. Figuring Richard had forgotten to turn the light off again, he stepped into the barn, and it was then that he saw it. Richard, wearing a poncho, using an electric saw, dismembering a woman’s remains. He also saw a little boy’s remains. 

He never, as long as he lived, forgot that sight: the blood splatter on Richard’s poncho, the sight of body parts strewn around, the staring, lifeless eyes.

He also never forgot the cold and predatory stare with which Richard looked at him that night.

Upon seeing him, Richard ran at him with the saw, but my dad pulled his pistol out of its holster and fired. One, two, three, four, five. Richard fell to the ground and bled to death.

My dad cleaned up the scene and buried the bodies. He never told another soul what had happened.

The disappearances stopped. My hometown went back to being a place where everybody trusted everybody, and people left their doors unlocked at night. My dad could never escape the guilt he felt over killing his brother, though, even though he knew deep down it was his only option. 

“Oh, Dad, we never knew…that’s such a horrible burden to carry,” I said.

“I could never put that on you girls, or anybody else.”

“Well, with what happened here, why didn’t you leave?” Andrea asked.

“I guess I just couldn’t bring myself to…I felt that it was my burden to carry, my punishment for what I did.”

“Oh Dad, it wasn’t your fault,” she replied.

“I guess I’ve just always felt that I should have known, should have done…something.”

“Like what, Dad? You loved your brother, and you thought you were imagining things. It’s like that with family.” She looked at me with mock suspicion, then grinned. I rolled my eyes.

“Yeah, I suppose so.”

We both hugged him. We all lay there, crying and hugging, for quite a while. It was strange, but it felt almost as if the air got lighter, and I noticed then that I didn’t see the creature, or the child, at all. No whisperings, no odd feeling of dread, no feeling of sadness even. Just lightness.

My dad’s heart gave out that night. When paramedics arrived on the scene, they told me he’d been dead for hours. My heart was broken, because I had never dreamed I’d lose my dad this soon. But at the same time, I felt relieved for him, because I knew for the first time in his life he’d found peace. His face when we found him was quite possibly the most peaceful I’d ever seen it.

At the funeral, I approached Gerald, a police officer who had been a long-time friend of my dad’s. “Listen, I need to tell you something that my dad told me and Andrea right before he passed away. It’s really important.”

“Oh, Michelle, you need to take time to grieve. Whatever it is, it can wait.”

“That’s the thing…it’s been waiting long enough. You remember the disappearances back in ‘88 and ‘89, right?”

“Yeah, what about them?”

I jerked my head in Andrea’s direction. “I think we better come down to the station and give you a full statement.”

And so we did. We told him the same story my dad had told him. The local PD managed to get some corpse dogs on loan from other departments, and by the time it was all said and done, they had pulled some 30-odd skeletons from the ground, including my uncle’s. It was a lot of work, but they managed to match the dental records of almost all of them to various cold cases in the area. One of them was a mid-thirties woman and her nine-year-old son, who had gone missing when her car broke down on the side of the road. I saw the photo they had of him before he went missing; it was the boy I’d seen before, sure enough.

Much of the sadness of the place had dissipated, but not all of the bodies were able to be matched. It was unfortunate, but three of the corpses couldn’t be matched. I comforted myself by thinking that they still could be in the future. And at least for the rest, their loved ones had finally gotten closure after all these years. I had to focus on the good.
    After everything that had happened in this place, my sister and I had agreed to sell the place and split the proceeds fifty-fifty. We sold it for a meager $20,000 to some faceless holding company. We’d been lucky they’d purchased it at all, as inspection revealed that the whole property needed a lot of work. Also? People aren’t exactly eager to buy property where a bunch of people got murdered…

I put my car into gear and glanced over at Andrea. “Ready?”

“As I’ll ever be.”

I pulled out of the driveway. Yes, I thought to myself, this is the last time I’ll ever see this place. I was so relieved that I almost didn’t see it.

Out of the corner of my eye, I could have sworn I saw that same creature from before, staring at me through the barn windows as I drove away. 

I’m not sure if Andrea saw it. If she did, she didn’t say anything. It was like being kids all over again; my hand found hers. “It’s gonna be okay,” I assured her.

“Yeah,” she agreed. 

We believed it for a whole minute before a deer came bolting from the woods. It’d be easy to say it was no match for my car, but the car wasn’t in much better shape. My sister had unleashed a string of expletives punctuated by kicks into what was left of my bumper, and sobs as she looked at the dead deer at our feet. “What the hell, Michelle? Watch where you’re going much? This poor deer, he–”

“She, Dre– it’s a she.”

Andrea stopped crying suddenly, her eyes darting off into the woods.

I was about to ask what she’d heard when I heard it, too. A clicking. Insectile, and– 

“We have to get out of here.” I said. 

“But the deer–” 

I grabbed my backpack and slammed the door shut. “Let’s go.”

“We can’t leave it. Help me. We’ll put him in the woods.”

“Her. Bucks have antlers.”

“Whatever.”

“Come on. I’ll grab the back and you grab the front. I don’t want to see the eyes.”

The clicking had subsided somewhat and I nodded as we dragged the carcass into the ditch. “God, does this thing stink!” Andrea mused.

It smelled like it was decomposing. It had only been a few minutes. Then why was it cold? God. I heard my sister’s scream just as I looked down. The animal was rancid, the flesh in my hand shades of green and grey…and…God, the smell. The putrid stuff was all over us. Andrea was still screaming, her eyes crazed as she looked at her hands.

“DRE!” I yelled, “Dre, calm down. Dre.”

But she wasn’t calming down; the screaming was growing louder, the sounds like an animal. “Dre–stop!” 

I reached my hand out to touch her. She jerked her hand and ran away–straight into the path of an oncoming truck.

I heard that insectile sound again–but now it sounded happier, friendly even. Curious, I followed the sound.

It lead me back to the barn. I saw those gaping maws again–they no longer looked menacing. In fact, they looked like a smile. I heard the whine of a buzzsaw, and my heart quivered with anticipation. I opened the doors and walked in. Welcome home.