The Dark Night

Chapter Thirteen (Fall, 2000)

(6k Words, ~25 min read)

The stargazing kids left the clearing and went to their respective homes.

Once Marshall got home, he went to his room and pulled his backpack off the coat hanger in his closet. He tossed it (and whatever he’d left inside of it) on his bed and grabbed the flashlight from his closet as well. He also grabbed a college-ruled notebook and his pencil case and threw these items on his bed. The next five minutes he whisked about his bedroom and threw other necessities onto his bed: Two shirts, his other pair of jeans, one pair of shorts, underwear (which he put immediately into his backpack), socks, his Converse shoes which he called his ‘Chucks’, and then pulled the entire box of old walkies off the high shelf in his closet. Three of the four were dead. The book he was reading, The Andromeda Strain. His smaller bowie knife with the stiff leather sheath.

Then Marshall put his hands on his hips and sighed, wondering what else he was missing. Well, he thought, I can at least put new batteries in the Kenwoods. He left the room and returned with the whole box of double-A batteries and clicked all the backs of the old walkie-talkies open. Then he replaced the batteries and clicked the little orange button on.

“Hello?” he asked himself and was instantly answered from the other walkie while holding down the ribbed ‘talk’ button. “Nice, these work, good to see they’re in good working order, I wonder how far I can go with these. WaaaaaAAAAAAAAh,” he said into the ribbed front of the device. Then he let go of the button and turned them off. He double-checked the others to make sure they worked and placed them in his backpack. Over the next few minutes, he managed to put all of the stuff into his backpack. Then he went downstairs and opened one of the cabinets. Picked his water bottle. Filled it with tap water. Made sure nobody was around as he stole six granola bars and headed back to his room. He put the water bottle in the outside pocket of his backpack and the granola bars alongside the clothes.

Once his supplies had swollen his backpack he put it next to his bed and sat, shaking his head. “Sheesh. One more thing…”

He stepped downstairs as normal as possible and went to the basement. He opened the door into the room with the hot water heater, breaker box, and the giant Kodiak safe. He wasn’t here to fix the hot water or switch the breakers and closed the door behind him. He pulled the little string above him and clink-ed on the exposed bulb above him.

Four deets on the safe’s keypad and Marshall grabbed the three-pronged handle. A deep CLUNG sounded from the metal chest and he opened it hoping nobody heard that. The two shotguns were eye-level with him. The Desert Eagle was hanging by a hook because Dad hadn’t bought a box big enough for it yet.

Marshall first grabbed six magazines and three boxes of ammo. He stuffed these in his waist and the pockets of his coat. Shit, I’ll have to come back for the guns. He clink-ed the light again and left the safe cracked. Then he suspiciously walked up the steps to the main floor and agonizingly beelined it to his room. Then he let out a quiet sigh to make sure nobody heard his relief at not being caught. Then he emptied the loot straight into his back and covered it with the folded leg of his jeans. Then he wondered, where the hell are the guns going to go? This back is going to be really damn heavy.

He went downstairs and into the kitchen and poured himself a plastic cup of water and downed half of it. That was his excuse for coming downstairs a second time just in case someone in the house was noticing his movement. Then he went to the basement again and put the two Rugers and the Sig Sauer into his pants: one on each hip and another wedged behind him. His hips were now having trouble taking steps, but he made it upstairs with the guns mostly covered with his coat. Then he jammed them into the backpack as well and wiped his brow. Underneath the backpack was the bottom of one of the straps and attached to the bottom of the strap was a small piece of nylon with a balloon embroidered into it.

Marshall ran his fingers along it for a few seconds and then he picked up the bag and grunted at the weight. “How in the hell am I going to run with this?” Fuck. He felt exhausted, but too tormented to go to sleep.

Mariah took her dad’s secondary backpack from the suitcase closet. On her way up to her room, she filled a 32-ounce metal water bottle with water and put it in the pack on her way up. Her dad had a leatherman he didn’t use in the garage in the brittle plastic case. She thundered down the wood steps and hopped the last three. She found the leatherman among the paint supplies on the metal racks in the garage and brought this to her room. Were there any other tools or things she would need before packing clothes and toiletries? She hated that word, toiletries. It sounded too personal. Bathroom stuff, like toothpaste and toothbrush. She should probably take shampoo too; her straight, blonde hair became greasy after just a few days of not washing it. Some baby wipes were always handy on trips; that was a trick her mom taught her.

Three changes of clothes fit easily in this backpack. She wondered if they would fit as easily if she were fully grown. Another benefit to being a kid: the clothes were smaller and you could pack more on a trip. After everything was packed in this bag, she thought about weapons. Was there anything else she could bring? Robert had a miniature Iron Pigs baseball bat he got from Boy Scouts during a raffle, but that wouldn’t do anything against the novis. Then again, would the novis be the only thing they would have to worry about? What about people?

Mariah walked to Roberts room where he was looking at over a dozen carefully-placed 8.5” by 11” papers with different drawings on his floor. His clothes were piled against his walls and bed to make room for the papers.

“What are these?” Mariah asked him. He was lying on his stomach with his feet kicking the air.

“All my best drawings,” he said.

“Where’s that small bat you have?”

“Dad took it.”

Mariah remembered now. Robert had been hitting weeds and flowers with it and Dad had hidden it up high in the master bedroom closet. Mariah left Robert and his drawings and walked to the master bedroom. Mom and Dad were in the living room looking over the mail as their daughter sneaked into their closet. Since her mother was short and the shelves tall, they kept a stepstool in their closet and Mariah quietly used this and felt around the tops of the shelves for the bat. It took a few minutes, but she finally spotted the handle sticking out from between a stack of hats and free t-shirts her dad had accrued from events and conventions.

She took the bat and slid it up her longsleeve and put the stepstool back where she found it. Then she walked past her parents and up the stairs again. The bat was just shorter than the backpack and she zippered the whole pack up once it was in. There was something missing… she went to her white vanity table and grabbed her empty backpack next to it. Then she undid the small rectangle of nylon with the little balloon on it and threaded it onto the zipper on the bag she had just packed. Her fingers were lingering on the plasticky cloth before she sat next to the bag wishing she didn’t feel so tense and exhausted.

Langley slacked off and never packed a bag. He’d do it the next night, not realizing there wouldn’t BE another night to pack.

Blink quietly brought Jeffery’s old hockey duffel bag from the garage to his room. There was plenty of room in here for clothes. An interesting fact about Blink was: he didn’t change his underwear more than once a week. That was something he hadn’t learned from his brother and father. This resulted in him not packing any underwear, though he did pack several extra pairs of socks, shirts, and his flannel-lined jeans. He was planning on wearing his snow coat on the Dark Night when it came since Myles said wherever they were going it was gonna be cold.

The fishing knife was always in his pocket. He considered wearing his mudboots and bringing them up to his room, but decided they would be too hard to run in if they were sprinting through the woods. Say, if they were sprinting through the woods, wouldn’t they need some flashlights? Blink grabbed his own flashlight that he used to read comics and sometimes Jeffery’s titty magazines under his covers.

What else? Food? There wasn’t anything in the house that he could take on the road. Even all of their canned food he wouldn’t eat. Oh well, someone else would bring stuff to eat. Surely not all of the Astronomers were dumb enough to not bring any food? Blink went down to the garage and took a particular fishing pole from the wall where his dad kept them. This pole could come apart and was highly practical for travel, but it was cheaper and wasn’t as strong, so Blink had only used it once. Now it would be extremely handy if they had to survive in the wilderness for a few days. It made him wonder where in the hell they were going in the first place. There wasn’t a hook on the pole and so the Pilot simply reeled in the line and then dismantled the rod, one section at a time. Once it was smaller, he brought it back to his room and put it in the duffel. Then he zipped it closed and felt a strange thrill. It was fun to be prepared!

What else could he pack? There was still quite a bit of room in there. Hmmm. He could put another pair of shoes in there. Then again, it would be better if it were light and didn’t weigh him down. That was a smart thought and he felt another thrill. It felt nice to be smart. Before going to sleep, he packed some of his Daredevil and Moon Knight comics into the bag.

Blink had forgotten about the little nylon tag they were given. It was still attached to his main backpack and never made it onto the hockey bag. Somehow he fell asleep easily that night.

Pretty pulled his Jansport, as empty as a hungry stomach, from under his bed. He let out a long breath and then picked it up. He brought it to his closet and started ramming clothes into it. Some sweatpants, his two pairs of thermal underwear (Myles said it was going to be cold, right?), an extra sweater which he quickly removed because it took up too much room. After he threw a few more articles from the closet into his backpack, he slapped his pocket to make sure his pocketknife was in there. Any other weapons he could take? Marshall said he was bringing guns, so maybe the weapons department was okay.

“Provisions,” he said in a strange voice. It was always weird to speak large words like a grown-up. He walked downstairs and double-checked the pantry to see if there was anything he could take. Raisins. Ah, some Wheat-Thins. Gushers, yes, those would be nice, especially if they got bored while they were there… what would they do in their downtime?

Pretty went to the game cabinet with his left arm full of food and grabbed a deck of cards. Then he took a game called AC/DC which he still didn’t know how to play and figured they could learn if they truly were that bored. He hoped Myles would bring his set of Double-6 dominoes and his Walkman with Back in Black by AC/DC. Pretty would have packed his Pokemon cards, but most of them were at Myles’s house because that’s where they always played.

All of Pretty’s loot made its way into the large single pocket of his backpack, but he put the cards and a single pencil in the small front pocket. He pinched the little nylon tag with the balloon embroidered attached to the zipper and closed the bag. The Astronomy Club’s Leader tested the weight. Not bad. I could run through the woods with this. Then he shuddered at the thought. Woods at night. Why at night again? Oh, right; that was the only time the novis weren’t going to be prowling the house. FUCK this shit; I feel so tired, but I can already tell I won’t be able to fall asleep.

Myles picked up his black Jansport from the ground, the same place it had been all summer since the last day of school. Since the Tradition. He would only need a second pair of pants, a pair of shorts, an extra two shirts, another pair of socks, and five pairs of underwear. Thrice now he had peed himself on a car trip because he had simply been in the car for too long and stained his carseat. With this experience, he always would take extra underwear. Only Pretty, Langley, and his parents knew about this, though Myles still regretted telling his friends who relentlessly made fun of him for it.

After all of these clothes made it into his bag, he went straight for his Walkman, headphones, and put his best cassettes along with it: Back in Black, by AC/DC. Uppercut Mix made by his Dad. Queen Greatest Hits, by Her Majesty Queen. Hmmm… what other good tapes were around. Yes, Rubber Soul by The Beatles. Four was enough. Myles Willis was horribly, horribly wrong.

He wished he had a knife of some kind, but that couldn’t be helped. His dad didn’t own guns or knives that were useful. Kitchen knives didn’t count. He wasn’t about to run around with a breadknife looking like a total asshole while being chased by monsters. Despite how terrifying that thought was, Myles started smiling to himself and muttered, “Well, I don’t wanna be an ASShole or anything.”

As he shut his backpack, he inspected the little nylon tag with the balloon on it. He forgot the official name for the Balloon Constellation, but he knew the vision behind it. “Thanks for having a cool mom, Pretty.”

Speaking of moms, he should probably leave a note for his own mom, shouldn’t he? Myles grabbed a piece of paper and a pencil (just in case he made a typo or two) from his openable desk and sat down. He wrote:

Dear Mom and Dad, I’ll be back in a

Then he erased a few words and wrote:

Dear Mom and Dad, I’ll be back soon. The Astronomers are going camping for a little while. Again, we’ll be back soon and won’t go far.

Then Myles, in his honesty, felt the need to mention that they may die and the possibility of dying became real to him. Just as real as it had when he was shaking on that stargazing blanket. “We might die, but probably not,” Myles said as he signed the paper with his name.

Your FAVORITE son, Myles

“Dammit, fuck these novis, man.” Myles wished he didn’t feel so exhausted and rigid. He doubted he’d sleep tonight.

The Astronomers forgot as best they could about the impending event, and as they tried forgetting, they only thought about it more. Pretty sensed and understood their unease and called together a meeting the next day.

Blink stepped down the stairs with a smile after putting on his favorite t-shirt. He was meeting with the other Astronomers today. As he entered the yellowed kitchen, he made eye-contact with a hungover Jeffery making love to a bowl of Lucky Charms. The short gaze was enough to get Jeffery mad.

“The fuck you lookin’ at?” Jeffery growled through a full mouth.

Blink didn’t answer and instead made his way to the refrigerator. Now that it was open, he saw it was as barren as a tundra. 

“Did you eat the rest of the deli meat?” Blink asked the munching Jeffery.

“Dad did.”

“Fuck.”

Jeffery didn’t seem to have his usual energy he would put toward agonizing Blink.

“Leave the Lucky Charms out.”

“I already finished them.”

“You did?” Blink walked over to the box and tapped it over.

Empty.

“Why didn’t you save me any?”

“Why didn’t you eat some before I did?”

If Blink did anything more than seem annoyed, he would probably take a hit or two, but he wasn’t thinking well as he slapped the bowl of cereal straight into Jeffery’s lap.

With only half a second of consideration, Jeffery launched from his chair, headache and all, chair falling backward, milk splattering off of him, and grabbed for his younger brother.

Blink retreated almost enough to escape, but his older brother caught his Favorite T-shirt and swung him around and into a wall. The wall stunned Blink at first, but it was when Jeffery drew Blink back once and then slammed him into the wall again, and the younger blacked out.

Blink felt himself break his fall with his hands and ease himself to the ground as nausea coursed through his guts. “Eeesh.”

“I should just fucking kill you,” Jeffery said walking over to the sink to wash the milk from his shirt.

Blink was tasting blood as he straightened his glasses. The side of his tongue he had bitten down on, but it was one of his right teeth that was bleeding. Bully. Now his Favorite T-shirt’s neck was all stretched out.

Fuck this, Blink thought as he left out the garage door. He could feel his pulse through his head after taking that knock against the wall. He hopped on his bike and wobbled the front wheel out of his garage. The smell changed from oil and grass in the garage to wind, leaves, freedom, and sun in the fall air. He’d eat something later; his nausea dissipated his appetite.

Mariah left her parents house with them seeming restless… uneasy.

Marshall left his loving home with a reusable grocery bag with the four Kenwood walkie-talkies inside.

Myles left his house and joined Langley as they headed toward Deedle Dee Diner.

Pretty was waiting for them at the round corner table.

“Leader,” Blink nodded.

“Pilot. And Sage, Bug, and Guru.” Pretty greeted the others. He had been practicing the new members’ names in secret.

“There’s the Clairvoyant.”

Mariah’s straight blonde hair seemed to be weighted on the ends as it fell immaculately down the sides of her head. She gave a wave as she walked in.

All of them scooted solemnly into their seats.

Nobody said anything, occasionally glancing to the Leader who stared into space. A smile crept onto his face and dimples dented his cheeks.

Myles started smiling too, only imagining what was making the Leader smile. Now all he could think about were funny things.

Langley caught Myles’ and Pretty’s faces and chuckled once.

“What’s so funny?” Marshall said, smiling along with them. All eyes turned to Marshall and then to the Leader again.

All of the Astronomers started laughing slowly, then, like an avalanche, the laughter picked up speed and the unknown hilarity gradually caused a full-blown ruckus.

“Hey, Blink, you’re the last one to get one of these. We decided you’d get one of the four that we got.” Marshall pulled a black walkie talkie out of his backpack. “I got one, Pretty’s got one, and Langley got one since he’s the Bug. I put new batteries in it too.”

Blink was put in a higher position than Myles? He got priority of the walkie over Mariah and Myles? “Thanks!” He said, cradling the device in two hands.

“Everyone came on a bike, right?” Pretty asked. The Astronomers nodded. The Leader continued: “Then lets go.”

“Go where?” Blink said.

“You’ll see.”

The Astronomers filed out of Deedle Dee Diner and scrambled their bikes into a sloppy formation, pedaling after Pretty who led them east, along a couple of trails and some side roads until they were passing the junkyard’s deteriorating chain-link fence.

They came to the dead end of a nameless street and pedaled right past it toward the train track. Pretty leaned his bike against one of the four posts with the solid red diamond signs at the end of the street and continued walking. Myles and Langley did the same, knowing what was coming now. The rest of the Astronomers put their own bikes against the other posts.

They followed the three original members down a small hill toward the train track and stood on it.

“It always comes from that way. We got just a few minutes to watch it,” Pretty said as they all stood on the track. Marshall put an ear to the rail to see if he could hear it from far off.

“Nothin’,” the Guru reported as he stood up. The rest of the Astronomers were trying to balance only on the rails.

Pretty faced off with Langley in a game of ‘chicken’ and Pretty won two matches.

“Hey,” Blink tapped Myles. “Chicken?” And Blink, who was balancing on the rain, extended a hand and then fell off before Myles could accept the challenge.

“Bring it on,” Myles said and once Blink was back the Sage rushes aggressively and shoved him off with a burst of laughter. Langley gave Myles a small shove for his belligerence and toppled him from the rail as well.

“I should go professional,” Pretty said as he won his third match against Marshall.

“’I wadn’t ready!’” Marshall said in a high-pitched voice.

“What the hell was that?” Langley said, indicating Marshall’s strange voice change.

“Jerry Lewis when he was boxing. You ever see that skit?” Marshall said.

“Nope,” Langley said.

“Look, a bunny!” Mariah said, pointing off the rails. All of the boys looked and like the plague, a bad idea instantly infected them: Three of them reached down to grab rocks from between the train tracks. The last two boys followed suit and in a few seconds, the rabbit was sprinting away as all five boys pelted tiny stones after it, laughing at their fun while Mariah covered her mouth in horror. “Stop that!”

“Hey, FUCK that bunny,” Langley said, flexing his muscles and glaring at the direction the rabbit had fled.

Myles and Pretty cracked up at that while Mariah shook her head.

“Bunny’s lucky we’re all terrible at throwing,” Blink said. “I don’t think we even hit it.”

“Oh,” Marshall said and put his ear to the rail again. “I dunno. Could be something coming.”

“How far can you hear a train through the track?” Myles asked.

Marshall shrugged as he rose and wiped his hands. “Why are we waiting for the train?”

“The graffiti,” the Leader said. “It’s another thing the Astronomers do, I guess. Myles and I have been watching the graffiti on these trains for a while. Usually we have clipboards and rank some of the cars or try to draw some of the art. We came up with some ‘tags’ once, but still haven’t found any good places to spraypaint.”

“I remember when Pretty and I watched the train right before Langley moved in,” Myles said.

“I remember meeting you on the playground on the first day of first grade,” Pretty said. “That was when Mariah thought I was a girl and called me ‘Pretty’.”

“I called you by your full name: ‘Pretty’ Beau Lewis. I dreamed your full name and knew about it. More prophet shit, huh?” Myles was trying to walk backwards on the rain while Blink and Mariah were trying to walk synchronously on each railroad tie.

“Then you and I started hanging out a lot outside of school,” Pretty said.

“Then you met me and finally things started getting interesting,” Langley said.

“Yeah, I stepped on you and you grunted ‘DAMN’ like an old guy and then we started the Astronomy Club,” Myles said, not noticing that the rest of the new Astronomers were now listening.

“We hung out a ton after that, especially since you lived right down the street from Myles. Then you told us about the Bushkill Massacre,” Pretty added.

Langley said, “Then we built most of the Observatory.”

“And pulled Blink from the creek,” Myles said.

“Thanks for that, by the way,” Blink said.

“Then we all met for the first time after that,” Marshall said as he put his ear to the rail again.

“Then Myles of all people asked if you wanted to try out the initiation for the Astronomy Club.”

“He probably knew we needed to be together then,” Mariah said and that quieted everyone. The rest of them knew what happened after that.

The train revealed its face from the bend and all of the kids left the tracks. The walked most of the way back to their bikes and watched the train roll closer and closer. As it was about one hundred feet from them, Pretty stuck out his arm at a right angle, fist to the sky, and pumped repeatedly. Myles mimicked and the last four Astronomers joined in, pumping their fists furiously to evoke a loud reaction from the engineers. Several seconds of fist-pumping and they were rewarded with an ear-ringing

WHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAOAOOOAOOAOAOAOAOAOAOAOAOOAOAOAOAOAOOAOAOOAOA

which made all of the Astronomers cover their ears and start laughing, whooping, and cheering. The rest of the train passed by in a few minutes and the beautiful motion pictures of greens, blues, purples, yellows, blacks, and whites passed by in swollen, puffy letters seeming to jut out of the cars like polished marshmallows or metal pillows. Every now and then one of the Astronomers would point at a particular piece of art that stuck out to them to emphasize its beauty. Eventually, the train was all used up and in slow-motion it snaked away on its metal road.

The procession flowed by in a quiet moment and for that moment, those six kids were once again just six kids watching a train pass in a small town from Pennsylvania. Casually standing on a bank twenty feet from one of the many train-tracks native to the Keystone State.

The middle-schoolers watched it disappear into the horizon for a few more seconds before they became bored and returned to their bikes and pedaled off to cause some more havoc.

The Dark Night was that very night.

Archibald Langley was called Archie by his parents and older brothers (who sometimes called him ‘Archibald’ ironically to poke fun at him). He moved from Denton, Ohio to Winton, Pennsylvania when he was eleven. Compared to Ohio, the weather was similar in Pennsylvania. There was still a lot of snow in the winter and autumn was beautiful in the woods surrounding his house. He loved the woods and his house, but he spent more time outdoors than anywhere else in the summer and on Christmas break.

He lived three houses down from Myles Willis and played with him the most. Usually, one of them would play outside on their driveway and the other would come out and meet them there. They had just moved in and the Langley’s driveway was smooth and black since it was redone to sell the house. It didn’t make any noise when you drove your bike on it. Though it scorched anything that touched it in the summer, riding on it was like gliding around on butter.

His driveway was half the length of a football field. Well, that’s what it felt like. When it was dark out, it felt like the whole football field from one yellow goalpost to the other. Six short cherry trees, three on either side, lined the driveway and gave off beautiful, orange leaves in the fall and pretty, white buds that flitted like confetti on the first windy day of spring. Then the leaves turned a deep red that almost matched its dark brown bark. They also let off a thick, bulbous sap that made your hands sticky and the trees were less enjoyable to climb.

“Archie.” Langley’s dad walked into his son’s room. Langley was poring over a Pokédex, studying Dragonite. He looked behind and at his dad.

“Yeah?”

“Trash needs to go to the street.”

The dreaded words made his heart plummet right through the floor. He waited before agreeing, thinking about the long walk to the top of the dark driveway. He wished he had taken it out during the daytime. Now the driveway was out to scare him, out to get him. He’d done the night walk plenty of times, but that didn’t mean he liked it. Especially now that he knew there was a house in the woods packed with little-boy-eating monsters. This was quite literally the worst timing for this chore to occur, but Langley was almost willing to take his chances since there hadn’t been anything sighted in the woods yet. There was a good chance he’d be okay.

He put his shoes on and his grey hoodie. He channeled his inner ninja. The dark warrior. It helped him cope with the darkness, made him one with it. He walked down to the garage and exited the back door.

He stepped into the darkness and looked at the corner floodlight that didn’t quite spread light to the trash cans. A quiet scene. He grabbed both of them, one in each hand and yanked them onto their wheels. He rounded the corner under the lights and looked around. He made it to the floodlights on the corner of the house.

The wind whistled in the trees from the woods. What if something came out of the trees and stood between him and the house? That’s ridiculous, nothing is coming from the woods. But it was still possible. Why not? There was nothing stopping the novis from plucking him off the driveway and ripping him to shreds. 

He started walking down the black driveway. The plastic wheels on the trash cans hummed and growled, rattling against the driveway. Langley winced, wishing they were quieter because they were giving his position away. He wanted this to be sneaky and quick like a real ninja. He wondered how a ninja would handle bringing trash cans to the end of a driveway. Would they wrap the wheels in something or pick the whole can up on their shoulder. He brought them to the end of the drive and turned them around so they were aiming at the street. His task was complete. The tight-lipped cans were now quiet and stood tentatively.

Langley turned quickly and began speed-walking back, his hoodie sleeves swishing beside him. Let’s just get inside and away from the darkness. His nerves tingled and his eyes scraped the darkness for anything that might wish ill fortune for him. He peeked to either side of him.

On his left was the majority of his front lawn. A large, grassy space agreed to be mowed by Superior Landscapers once a week. It was a pristine and dark lawn which looked boring now that Langley looked at it.

On his right, in the space right between his house and his neighbors, a black mass the size of a horse stir and lift its head.

Langley’s entire being halted. His shoes scuffed the driveway in his abrupt halt. He’d never seen a novis. Only Myles’ crayon drawing and heard the descriptions.

Its head was huge and black like the night, but there weren’t any eyes. Just an exposed, rounded-square-looking skull. And huge, needle-sharp teeth as long as Langley’s spindly arms. There were no eyes, but it sensed Langley. The Bug could feel it sense him. The thing was only twenty feet away from him, hiding in the darkness in the next-door neighbor’s slice of property bordering Langley’s. It had huge, muscled dark arms. Its legs were short, and it crept heavily around like a laden lizard, stomping around under its weight. It had three fingers with dark, sharp claws on each hand. Hands powerful enough to crush Langley or claws to shred him to pieces. And the teeth…

A tail raised itself from behind the muscled hind legs and slapped the ground. THumPB. 

Langley felt the blow shake the ground.

The monster faced the Bug. One of the infamous novis versus Big Bad Langley. 

The head jerked back several times to smell for him. A growl buzzed from the creature’s throat.

It snarled and hissed, starting to move toward Langley fast and quiet. Spearing into the driveway, it scrambled right at the shell-shocked middle-schooler, 

It opened its mouth and screamed which snapped Langley back to attention and he dodged to the left. The huge animal overestimated and rolled on the ground like a dog who missed the ball it was to be fetching, and scrambled to its feet.

It lunged toward the fleeing boy and its footsteps resounded through the air.

Boomboom. Boomboom. Boomboom.

It was running right behind him. The driveway was a whole football field once again. Good grief he thought as he ran. He had a head-start at least, and felt he was already halfway down the driveway when the novis began its pursuit. Now that there was a fire of survival burning inside of him, he could run much faster. The driveway was almost finished as he heard the novis’ bounding, trembling jumps as it chased him. Langley turned the corner under the floodlight and in his peripheral vision saw the animal roll yet again against the sharp turn. The door to the garage was only feet away.

Langley looked back.

Just half of its body was in the light. The thick, scaly tail alone was bigger than Langley. The teeth had to wear the expression of disappointment, frustration, and general annoyance that its meal had escaped him. Langley noted the lack of eyes again. Just a black, battered, scarred skull half the size of the creature’s body. It’s mouth couldn’t close all the way because it had no lips and its teeth were too long. 

It opened its mouth again and Langley saw even more teeth behind the sharp, deadly incisors. Like a shark. Layers of teeth. Saliva, thick like blood, rolled out of its mouth and pulsed as breaths moved in and out of its mouth.

The creature didn’t make a sound like it wasn’t there, but he knew better. This wasn’t an apparition like Blink had seen. No, Langley could feel its weight and the sheer essence.

It reared its head again, crouched, and Langley dove into the door. He slammed it shut, locked both locks, and sprinted up the three wooden stairs in the garage to the kitchen.

He slammed that door as well and locked the knob and deadbolt as well. He fell against the door and breathed. He shook, sweating under his grey hood. He’d make a terrible ninja. Then again, no ninja had to ever encounter a novis. He crawled toward the back window to see if the creature was still there in the backyard.

Just a small, humming lightbulb illuminating the corner of the house.

He sighed and rubbed his sweaty palms against his hoodie.

They were here somewhere, even if he lost the visual. Which means the house in the woods was back. Which meant the Mirror was out there. The Dark Night was now.