Unease

“Hey, what’d you bring?” Brandon asked.

“I swiped a beer from my dad and a couple of candy bars.”

Brandon didn’t know about drinking the beer. It wasn’t as if he was some kind of prude, but he’d heard all about what it did to Billy’s dad and if that’s how someone acted when they were drunk he wanted no part of it. He’d seen the bruises on Billy in the past and figured his dad must have done it during one of his benders. He’d asked Billy about it, but his face darkened and his had simply said that he didn’t want to talk about it. Why would Billy even bring something like that in the first place?

As they walked through the woods they came across an abandoned well. The weeds had grown over it, almost covering it up entirely, yet they could still see a bit of moss-covered stone.

Billy stepped closer to it and leaned down.

“Whoa, we could have fallen in that thing, Billy. What are you doing, be careful!”

“I want to look inside.”

As Billy pried on the wood covering the well, they both heard something inside. It sounded almost like a rustling noise with a slight roar to it.

“Dude, what if it’s a huge bug? There can’t be anything in there that isn’t a snake or a bug or something.”

Finally, one of the boards came off, knocking Billy onto his butt. Brandon laughed at him and then walked a little closer to see what was in there.

The creature they saw looked somewhat like a lavender colored lizard, yet it had wings that were golden. It was making mewling noises and looked like a baby of some sort.

I heard another sound, which seemed to be the mournful cry of some sad and pathetic creature coming from deep inside the jungle, sending chills pulsating throughout my body.

Yet, I continued to walk deeper into the jungle as if unable to control my body’s movements. It was surrealistic, and for a moment, I wondered if I might be dreaming. I passed through the jungle along the winding path without being accosted and eventually exited the massive wall of tall trees to find myself at the base of the extensive mountain range.

In the distance, at the base of the nearest mountain, I saw a large opening to what appeared to be a cave. I would have missed this had it not been for the eerie fluorescent blue glow emanating from inside, causing the opening to look like a giant pale blue eye against the blackness of the mountain face.

I walked toward the opening having no more idea why than I had when I walked through the jungle. Behind me, I could hear that unidentifiable mournful cry, which a chorus of similar cries had now joined. I felt as if they were trying to warn me against going inside the cave.

However, I knew nothing would stop me as I was drawn into the cave. Strangely, the glowing blue light seemed to calm me in a way I couldn’t begin to explain. Yet the closer I got to the iridescent opening, the louder the warning cries from deep in the jungle became.

I turned and saw hundreds of pairs of silvery red eyes glimmering in the blackness. I took a deep breath and passed through the cavernous entrance.

I might as well get this out of the way from the start. I’m not crazy, no matter what you think after reading this. The truth is, I’m a world-famous author. Many of my books have been adapted to screenplays and have become major motion pictures, royalties from which have made me wealthy.

In my early days, finding someone to publish my work was impossible. As a result, I collected a stack of rejection letters probably taller than the five-story tenement building where I rented a one-bedroom flea-bag apartment paid for by an assortment of part-time jobs.

It’s often been suggested I have an attitude problem, a sense of superiority. But how difficult is it to be superior to what we think of as the general public? In my opinion, most of the people out there are barely human.

The concept of what constitutes humanity is paramount to what I’ve learned and what truths I’ll reveal to you soon.

By the time the snow melted, five people were dead.

The village of Viremoor had always been quiet, too quiet, Detective Eloise Marrin used to say, before Winter Garden came alive with ghosts. It was supposed to be an old, forgotten estate. A crumbling relic hidden behind frost-covered hedgerows and rusted iron gates. But over the course of two months, it became something else:

A stage for murder.

Five victims. Five perfect crime scenes. And all of them, in one way or another, pointed to Thomas Vale, the godson of Victor Harroway, the late owner of the manor and a man with enough wealth to buy a town’s silence.

I was out behind the shed watering the tomatoes and the eggplant when I heard Charlie calling for me.

“Dad! Dad! Come quick!”

Well, I didn’t go there quick. I didn’t even move. I was tired. Dog tired, actually, after working at the plant all day spray painting the doors to Dodge trucks and then off to work at the feed and seed store at 4pm and just got home a half hour ago at 7:45…I was done running for people.

Charlie came running to the garden screaming: “Dad! There’s a hole in the ground! Like in the movies! The ground is moving! The ground is moving!”

I swiveled around slowly to face him, the water hose blasting the plants, the lawn chair, and finally Charlie. He laughed as he tried to defend himself from the spraying water, yelling for me to cut it out. I dropped the hose and asked him what was so important he had to interrupt the only enjoyment I get the entire day.

His response: “The earth might swallow all of us up!”

I blinked.

“Including your mother?”

“Dad! Yeah!”

“Even Gosomer?” He was our Blue tick hound who had little patience for squirrels, passing cars and generally anyone walking up the drive, including me.

“I said everybody, damn it!” Charlie immediately looked down at the ground and apologized.

“Alright,” I said, removing my hands from my waist. “I’ll look at your moving earth, Charlie Cole, if it will humor you.”

“Dad,” Charlie said with a scoff added at the end. “I wish you’d stop saying if it will humor me, usually when I’m serious nothing will make me laugh.”

Huh. I had to smile at that. Barely twelve and the boy already has his mother’s biting wit.

“Okay, okay. Where’s the hole.”