The Skeleton in my Closet

The outskirts of what is currently Belgrade, Serbia.

Prologue (Year 1975)

Devimon understood his orders completely, but a suicide mission? He knew prowling around in the real world was really just asking for death; however he was not given to stupidity. He knew returning to the Digital World empty handed was also a death sentence itself. He already bore the scars of past failures as he reminded himself by gingerly running sharp clawed fingers over the stumps where his wings used to be. Despite many years in Piedmon's service to harden him he still couldn't quite suppress a shudder at the thought of his master's wrath.

A cold autumn breeze penetrated the little cave in which he had been hiding out and he wondered if it would rain that day. If it did he'd be soaked, though he feared the revealing light of daytime much more potently than the night so he'd just have to wait it out. From what little he'd heard about the humans they were apparently quick to harm, rarely asked questions and terribly violent creatures. With being so near to the edge of one of their cities he knew the very real danger of being discovered by a human but it was a risk he was forced to take.

The sharp sound of a cracking twig from outside the cave's entrance awoke Devimon at once. He noted that the sun had yet to dip below the city line and he twisted himself toward the sound. Some version of a real world Dobermon peered curiously down at him, sniffing the air. Devimon froze, unsure of his next move and experienced a moment of gut wrenching terror as the barrel of a gun was pointed at his face. An explosion ensued and in the next moment he was barely aware but definitely paralyzed. In his final moment of consciousness he quietly accepted his fate as his body was heaved into a hole in the basement of the human's dwelling and covered by cold, damp soil.

Present Day (Year 2008, a few days before Halloween)

18 year old Stefan sighed as he unpacked his things from the brown card board boxes. It wasn't that moving was a big hassle considering he didn't have a lot of stuff but he missed his old neighbourhood already. He removed last the plain black box which contained his most treasured memories and keepsakes.

Stefan cared for his brother, Andrej, but he was also very aware of what a snoop a thirteen year old little brother could be so he was always careful to conceal his black box. He peered around the room scanning for possible hiding places but gave up, the walls were solid concrete and the floor was stained beige carpet with most likely concrete underneath. He looked over to the corner of the room and noted the big wooden closet. It was not an original structure, obviously added sometime later. It would have to do for now he decided.

He brushed a lock of blonde hair from his pale blue eyes and turned the knob on the closet. Stefan nearly cried aloud when the closet door was pushed open of its own accord, propelling him backwards a few steps. His heart thudded in his chest and his breath burned his throat. The inside of the closet was a void of darkness but he was unable to pry his eyes away. A moment later three small bats flew out from the closet nearly sending him into cardiac arrest. When he regained some wits about himself he wondered how the small creatures got into the closet as the doors had been securely shut.

The bats flew around the room in slow circles stretching their wings, apparently happy to be free of the confining space of the wooden closet. Stefan furrowed his brow at the strange behaviour of the bats; they didn't even appear to notice him. After a few minutes he decided that the creatures belonged outside so he slowly made his way over to the single small window in the room. He turned to look at the bats one last time before he set them free but stopped in surprise. Where were the bats? Had they disappeared?

His heart thumped from within his chest as he turned toward the open closet doors and he ran a sweaty palm over his face. He forced himself to get a grip and snatched his Zippo lighter from the pile of things on his bed. He lit it and strode boldly over to the closet to peer inside. To his complete surprise, it was empty of bats or anything at all and appeared completely harmless. Ancient green carpet covered the bottom and empty old wire hangers hung swaying slightly, just an ordinary closet.

Stefan was overcome with the sense of being watched. He sucked in a deep breath to steady him and turned slowly. Nothing... hardly surprising. Light from the single lamp in the room shone, illuminating the stark walls but it was hardly warm or comforting. He shut the closet doors and decided right there to call it a night and continue unpacking in the light of day. As for the bats, he considered the possibility that they had found a small hole in which to escape or some other obscure little place to hide; either way they were harmless.

He slept restlessly through the night and when he awoke he decided that he would finish unpacking during the light of day. In the cold autumn light the closet appeared completely benign but Stefan decided to take a closer look at where the bats might have been hiding before hanging his clothing. He seized the lamp off its stand and peered inside. Same as last night but this time Stefan noted that the carpet was a little torn in left back corner. He pulled on the corner tentatively but it wouldn't budge. He pulled harder until it gave away to reveal linoleum underneath but it was not intact. It showed signs of serious corrosion and gave away easily caked with dirt. Stefan leaned forward, surprised; he was sure that the floor of his room was carpet on top of concrete. Further analysis showed that he was indeed correct in his first assumption. The concrete ended a little ways inside the closet and it seemed as though it had been busted up. What an odd thing, Stefan thought to himself. There was no hole or cave so this could not have been where the bats had originated.

"Stefan?" a voice called from behind the faded wood of the old bedroom door.

He jumped, startled but quickly regained his wits. "Yes, dad?" he called back as he threw the carpet and linoleum back into the closet and shut the door; for some reason he didn't want his parents aware of this.

His father, Slobodan opened the door and stepped inside. "We're going to the grocery store, are you coming?"

Stefan breathed a sigh of relief and forced a smile. "No, thank you. I would like to finish putting my stuff away."

Slobodan shrugged but smiled. "Alright, we'll be back soon." He shut the door behind him with a soft click that echoed in the small room.

Stefan turned once again toward the closet and was overcome, like the night before with the sense of someone or something watching him; and whatever it was came from the closet, he was sure of it. It washed over him like a cold blanket, soft but uncomfortable.

Outside he heard his family head out to the store but he hardly registered the sounds. The closet beckoned him and he strode forward to heed its call. He removed the carpet and linoleum and reached out to touch the earth. It was cold and damp and somehow ominous. Stefan swore he could detect the faint stench of death and decay.

An obscure thought invaded his mind, what if there was something buried there? That was morbid and insane. Who would bury something in such a stupid place? Yet, he couldn't shake the feeling. His parents and brother were gone, what would it hurt to dig a little? And when he found nothing he could put his mind to rest. He ran upstairs and found an old wooden spoon; it would do as a shovel for now.

He had dug nearly a foot down and was about to fill in the hole and give it a rest when the spoon hit something. Stefan drew his hand back as though he had been shocked and dropped the spoon. A sense of dread and fear filled his mind and he swallowed the lump in his throat.

"This is absurd," he whispered aloud.

Nevertheless he reached into the hole and dug around the object and when he felt he had a good grip, pulled it free of the earth. Stefan brought it into the light and nearly dropped it in utter shock. The object in his hand was none other than a human skull; but... somehow he had been expecting this. He steadied himself and began to brush away the dirt and debris. Stefan furrowed his brow as he examined the man's skull, he was certain it was male somehow, and noted some mutated features including fangs. He ran his finger over one of the curving teeth and withdrew his hand when the razor sharp edge bit into his skin.

"Ouch!" he exclaimed as he jammed his finger into his mouth. "I am definitely going crazy."

Could this be a joke? He thought to himself. No, there was no way. This was much too complex for the likes of his younger brother. Stefan wondered what else could be buried under the closet but decided he didn't want to find out. He considered the skull, what should he do with it? Perhaps he could give it to a museum. No, there would be too many questions. It was best to keep this to himself and in the meantime he had a mess to clean up before his family returned.

That night Stefan was awoke many times by strange feelings and sensations. He was certain that finding the skull was messing with his head but refused to let it scare him. After all, it was the skull of a dead person who was just that, dead. Who had ever heard of a skeleton doing anything but lay there?

When he awoke in the morning he froze, the skull was sitting in the middle of his floor. Instantly angry, he hopped from his bed. There was only one way that could have happened, if his brother had been in the room snooping around. He put the skull back in the closet, slipped on his clothing and headed upstairs to where his dad and brother sat at the table. Stefan narrowed his eyes at Andrej who shot him an irritated glare.

"What's your problem?" Andrej muttered.

"My problem is you going through my stuff," Stefan retorted.

"I haven't even been in your room, fag," Andrej told him.

Slobodan looked up and frowned. "Enough you two."

"Just stay out of my stuff," Stefan growled at his brother as he left the kitchen and headed back to his room.

When he opened the door to his room Stefan stopped in his tracks. Not only was the skull laying in the identical position in which he had found it this morning, there was something else. The smell of decay and rotting was strong in the room and on the wall above his bed was something smeared, though Stefan soon realized as he studied it that it was not just some random smear. It was writing and curiously enough, it was in English. It read: Find the pieces.

Stefan had the good sense to step quickly inside his room and shut the door. He swallowed and turned to survey the mess. He was now certain that this was beyond the skill of his brother's normally lame pranks. He couldn't be sure but he swore that he could detect the faint scent of blood. He looked at the skull, wondering if it somehow could be responsible for the mess on the wall. He sneered and shook his head at the preposterous thought and decided that he above such a primitive conclusion. There was something else, or someone else at work here and he wasn't going to let it scare him or creep him out. The mess on the wall was most likely fake blood and the skull had to have been planted.

He cleaned up the mess, stuck the skull back in the closet and spent the rest of the day drawing and sketching. It was quiet all through the night but that didn't stop Stefan's mind from racing until the soft pink light of dawn touched the sky outside his window. By then he had already decided what he was going to do with the skull. He wrapped it in an old towel and told his father that he was going to explore the new neighbourhood.

Out in the country it wouldn't be difficult to find a spot to bury the thing and be rid of it once and for all. Stefan quickly discovered a small copse of trees with lots of cover and found his way into the middle. Not wanting to waste any more time on the skull he dug a shallow hole and covered it over loosely. Even if it was discovered there was no possible way it could be traced back to him. Or was there? Stefan chewed on his lip as he reconsidered this course. What if the police tested the skull for DNA evidence? Stefan nearly slapped himself out of frustration. How would the police be able to match his DNA on a computer if his DNA wasn't even in there?

"Find the pieces..." a raspy voice whispered in English through the trees.

Stefan whipped his head around but saw no one. He clenched his teeth, suddenly feeling angry.

"Hey you!" he called to the wood in lightly accented English. "Come out here!"

He heard nothing but the whisper of the wind through the trees, no voice this time. He kicked at the dirt on top of the skull, dislodging it and it clattered to the ground to rest in front of him. Stefan gasped when he observed the eye sockets of the skull begin to glow like a burning brand.

"Find the pieces..." the voice pressed.

Stefan, now frightened, turned to run but he halted as soon as he felt the cold fingers on his shoulder. He was now beginning to realize that there must be some entity attached to the skull. He ran a hand over his face and forced himself to get a grip. Was he really going to let a dead person push him around?

"Get lost!" he told the skull. "You can't bully me into doing your work!"

"I have your blood, human..." the voice rasped, louder than ever. "You cannot outrun..."

"My blood?" Stefan whispered to himself as he lifted his hand to examine the half healed cut he'd received courtesy of the strange skull.

The skull remained still, though its eyes continued to regard him with cold fire. Was he now bound to the thing through his own blood? Stefan wasn't sure how such a thing could be possible but he couldn't deny what his senses were telling him and he wasn't insane. He was by far the most level headed in his family but this was no time for a scientific approach.

He leaned against a tree as he considered his options. Chances were if he was bound to the thing through blood then leaving the skull in the wood would most likely solve nothing; the ghost attached to the skull would probably follow and haunt him. Maybe he should just do as it was telling him. Maybe then it would leave him alone.

"What do you want?" he addressed the skull.

"Find the pieces..." it rasped quietly before the fire in its eye sockets was extinguished.

"Pieces of what? Find pieces of what?" Stefan implored but it remained as silent as the grave.

Stefan didn't really need to ask it, he already had an idea of what the thing wanted but he wasn't sure he had the nerve to comply; but if he wanted the skull or ghost to leave him be then he'd just have to fulfil its wishes. He picked up the skull and carefully rewrapped it in the old towel and headed back home.

He waited until the rest of his family had gone to bed before beginning his task. He gathered the necessary tools and set to work excavating the closet. He was sure that the skull was referring to the remaining pieces of its body. Maybe all it desired was to be laid to proper rest; whatever the case Stefan just wanted the thing out of his room and out of his life.

The sun had already risen in the sky when he finished picking the last of the bones from the dirt. He piled them carefully in one of the cardboard moving boxes and considered his options. Should he bury them in the wood? He looked at the skull which sat atop the pile; its eye sockets were empty and seemingly lifeless. Maybe he should ask it what it wanted.

No sooner than he had finished that thought the eyes lit up with their unnatural cold fire glow.

"More blood," it rasped.

Stefan couldn't get used to this and didn't even attempt to mask his fright. "N-no, I am not spilling blood on your account."

He felt the cold fingers on his arm and registered the threat. "How much blood do you need?" he managed with his heart in his throat.

"More blood," it repeated.

Did it only need a few more drops? Stefan had no way to be sure; it was day time and he was exhausted, it would have to wait until later. He packed down the dirt in his closet and returned the linoleum and carpet to their original positions before stuffing the cardboard box inside. He washed up and fell into his bed utterly tired.

He was awoken later by his father. "Stefan, maybe it's time we got you boys registered at the school. Get dressed and we'll leave right away."

Stefan rubbed the sleep out of his eyes and frowned, school was the least of his worries right now. "Can't we do this later, dad?"

Slobodan sighed, irritated. "Stefan, you are now eighteen years old, please begin acting your age."

Stefan pushed down his anger and sat up. "How does this have anything to do with my age? I just have something to do today. We can go tomorrow."

Slobodan shook his head with obvious disgust. "You become less and less our son every day. I hardly know you."

Stefan clenched his teeth but refused to answer. His father stood glaring for a few moments before storming out of the room. Stefan let out a sigh of relief and pulled on some clothing before taking out the box. Now that he knew what it wanted he realized that it really wasn't any relief. He had the impression that it required more than a few drops. A few drops he could provide himself but where would he find anymore than that? And could animal blood be substituted? There was only one way to find out.

He returned later from the meat shop with a container of cow's blood and quietly returned to his room. Now he was left with the question of what to do with the blood. Was he to pour it over the skeleton? The more he thought about it, the more evident it seemed that was all he could do with it. He sucked in a breath as he opened the container and gagged, the blood smelled ghastly. He wasted no time in pouring the contents over the pile of dirt encrusted bones and he stepped back to wait.

"Noooo!" the voice growled.

Stefan gulped, wasn't this what it wanted?

A sharp thud issued from within the closet and Stefan jumped. He could hear someone descending the stairs and panicked. He grabbed the blood soaked box and tossed it in the closet and gasped at the sight on the floor, a huge crimson blotch decorated the worn beige carpet. Whoever had come down the stairs opened the door without knocking and Stefan was left with no time to cover the mess.

"What in the hell..." Slobodan's gaze immediately fell upon the mess. "What is going on here? Are you hurt?" Slobodan then saw the container and understood. "You are devil worshipping?" he spat. "I should have known."

"No, that's not it," Stefan tried to explain.

"Then what is it?" Slobodan shouted.

Stefan faltered, unsure of his answer. He knew his family would never believe him. "I-I don't know, it was an accident," he answered lamely.

"Get out," his father growled. "Get out right now, I'll not have this sort of thing in MY house!" With that his father left the room.

Stefan wasted no time in packing the skeleton into a backpack and he fished out his winter coat and boots before slipping out of the house. Night had fallen over Belgrade and a cold wind rustled his blonde hair. He had to end this but first he needed to clear his head. He boarded the bus which would take him to his old neighbourhood and began to relax for the first time in a while. One way or another he would figure this out and things would be normal once more.

He got out near his old school and found his way there. He found a bench outside the red brick building and sat down to think. A chill breeze rustled leaves but the streets were eerily quiet and the block stood still in the faded light of the single street light. He hadn't been there more than fifteen minutes when he realized the mistake of coming back here. Down the street a group of a dozen or so people his age were sauntering toward the bench where he was sitting. He got up nonchalantly and started to walk away but cringed when one of the group called to him.

"Stefan? Is that you?" some guy called.

The group erupted into laughter and Stefan turned. How could he have been so stupid as to come back to the school where he had been taunted and teased day after day? Oh well, he would just have to endure the mocking and go on about his business. He waited for their approach and the ensuing predictable taunts.

"Hey, Stefan," one girl held out a joint to him. "You should try this stuff, it'll loosen you up."

"No, thanks," he declined.

Another girl stepped forward. "Hey, Stefan, how come you're so obsessed with dark stuff? I've seen some of your freaky clown drawings, it creeps us out."

"Uh, I don't know," Stefan answered tentatively.

A guy in his grade spoke up. "Hey, it got your attention didn't, so that must be why he draws stuff like that."

"Yeah, to get in your pants, Anđela!" another guy exclaimed and the group erupted into laughter again.

Stefan sighed uncomfortably and stuck his hands into his coat pockets.

The guy in his grade stepped forward and pulled on his backpack which contained the skeleton. "Let's see some more of your art; I want to see if this will actually turn Anđela on."

"No!" Stefan said sharply as he stepped backward. The last thing he needed was for his former classmates to discover the bones.

The guy Stefan recognized as Pavle made another grab for the backpack but Stefan was unable to move in time. Pavle pulled but Stefan desperately pulled back with all might. Pavle let go suddenly and Stefan fell heavily to the cold cement. The next moment there were three people holding him down and he experienced sheer panic as the backpack was pried from his numb fingers.

"It's nothing, it's my stuff, please give it back!" Stefan pleaded and he cursed as they opened it.

"Holy crap," Pavle exclaimed as he pulled out the blood covered skull. "Where in the nine hells did you find THIS, Stefan?"

"That's really sick, Stefan," Anđela managed after a moment.

The rest of the group was stunned into silence but it was not to last. A moment later the skull began to emit tendrils of darkness and Pavle was obscured by a smoky shadow. Stefan was finally released as the group began to pull away from the unnatural scene and a few seconds later they bolted as Pavle issued the most terrifying scream Stefan had ever heard. Still screened by the shadowy haze Stefan only heard the wet thud of the body hitting the ground and the clatter of the skull as it tumbled somewhere beside the body.

Stefan gulped in abject terror; terror from witnessing what the skull was capable of and the terror of being caught around the body. He didn't wait for the tendrils of shadow to recede and found the skull easily by groping around. Once again secure in his backpack, he bolted from the scene with the skull. He ran until he found a bus and made his way toward home, he knew his father was mad but at the moment he had nowhere else to go. He decided that he would tell his father that the blood had been the product of an earlier science experiment gone wrong.

He breathed a sigh of relief when he discovered that his family was asleep and slipped silently into his room. He panted heavily but wasn't given a moment before the contents of his backpack begun to rattle around. He threw the black bag off of his shoulder in fright and he looked up and noted the flashing lights outside his window. The police were approaching his front door and Stefan shivered, suddenly feeling drained of any warmth. What was he going to do?

He was immediately distracted by the clattering skeleton which had emerged from the bag to assemble itself in the air. Stefan froze, unsure whether to bolt. He watched in amazement as shadow quickly enveloped the free standing skeleton and began to form tissue. A few seconds later a tall blonde man, completely clad in old fashioned black clothing stood staring at him. Bats, similar to the ones he had seen days ago flitted about the man.

"Greetings, I am ZimaVamdemon," he addressed Stefan in a deep, rich voice spoken in English.

Stefan took no note of the ruckus upstairs. "ZimaVamdemon?" Stefan whispered.

"Thanks to your assistance I was able to evolve," ZimaVamdemon continued. Stefan was utterly perplexed and speechless but the man took no heed. "I am now bound to your blood; you must travel with me to the Digital World."

"What?" Stefan interrupted.

"You will be safe," ZimaVamdemon attempted to assure him. "You are now my partner and our fates are bound by blood; I will not allow harm to come to you."

"I don't understand any of this," Stefan told him. "I do not understand how you came to be here and how am I your partner? And what does that mean?"

Behind him the door was thrown open and Stefan whipped his head around to regard the intrusion.

"Stefan," his father began. "What have you gotten yourself into?"

Two policemen entered the room behind Slobodan and Stefan noted that one had his right hand rested on the handle of his gun. "Stefan Tuković, please come with us."

ZimaVamdemon disappeared into thin air just before he unleashed a black blast from his finger tips to propel the policeman and Stefan's father away. A few seconds later a pool of darkness shimmered almost imperceptibly in front of them.

"Stefan, we will depart this miserable world now," ZimaVamdemon beckoned to him with a whisper.

Stefan swallowed the lump in his throat. Did he even have a choice? He sucked in a frightened breath as the barrel of a gun was pointed at his chest. It was only then did he notice the broken body of the second policeman a few feet away.

"Stefan Tuković, you are under arrest for the murder of a police officer!" the policeman shouted.

"Be gone with their gibberish language, follow me," he bade Stefan in whisper.

"That wasn't me!" he shouted at the policeman who obviously hadn't seen ZimaVamdemon or the nearly invisible portal.

"Get down on the floor or I will open fire!" the policeman ordered him.

He could scarcely hear above the rapid beating of his own heart as considered the life he would spend behind bars for the murder of a policeman and the alienation he would receive for supposed occult activities. He was also certain that the blame for whatever had happened to Pavle would also be placed on him. There would be no place on earth for him to hide but ZimaVamdemon offered him a way to leave this world. Should he trust him? After all he had just murdered Pavle and the policeman.

He stole a glance back at the scowling policeman and his father. It was the angry, disbelieving expression on his father's face that made his mind up for him. There was no longer a place for him here and he took a deep breath before plunging into the shimmering portal that led to a new world and a new life with his partner, ZimaVamdemon.