"Dad?" Jackie asked, walking into the barn.
He tried not to look at the creepy Bat that was nailed to the wall of the barn. His father was sitting in a chair, opposite from the Bat, next to a giant harpoon that he had made himself with the arrowhead left behind by the Bat aimed right over its heart.
Jack narrowed his eyes and didn't respond for a long time. "You better stop bringing kids in here to see that creature; only got a few more days."
"Dad, we killed that thing twenty three years ago, it's not coming back," Jackie said, trying to convince his father.
"Just consider this a precaution; if that thing does come back, I'm going to shoot this arrow right through its horrid, black heart."
Jackie sighed and walked to the chain nearby his father's chair. He gave it a pull, turning off the lights so that only the light from the fading sun lit the barn. Jack didn't move or say a word to his son, only resituated himself in his chair.
"'Night, dad," Jackie asked, not waiting for a reply.
He walked out and of the barn and made his way back to the small barn house next to the barn. He gave one last glance over his shoulder, barely able to see his father through the small crack he had left in the barn door. With another sigh, he stepped into the house and shut the door behind him.
Jack kept his gaze glued to the covered face of the Bat. He wasn't going to let the creature come back to live and terrorize more lives, take more sons from their fathers.
He was so focused on the Bat and his own thoughts that, at first, he didn't hear the soft sound of pitter-pattering feet. Eventually, he snapped out of his trance and stared around the darkening barn. The pitter-patter stopped for a moment before starting up again, this time closer. Jack didn't move, only his eyes gazed around the area of the barn, still unable to see anything.
Suddenly, something small with eight legs and a long tail flew through the air, connecting with Jack's face, wrapping its tail around Jack's throat, and suffocating him into unconsciousness.
Rebecca jumped and her eyes flew open. She was back in Brad's, her boyfriend's, cherry red Chevy pick-up truck.
"You okay sweetheart?" Brad asked, taking his eyes off the road for a second to glance at Rebecca.
"Yeah, I just had a bad dream," Rebecca replied.
"Talk to me."
"Well, there was this old man sitting in a chair. He had a big, huge, red, thing in front of him, pointing it at something, but I couldn't see what it was. Then, this spider thing flew at his face and its tail wrapped around his throat."
"Sounds like a bad dream to me," Brad said.
"Yeah, that's what I said."
"I just mean that you shouldn't freak about it," Brad said, "You've had dreams like this before in the past, like that time you dreamed about the fire that killed you--,"
Brad cut off in mid-sentence, looking over at Rebecca again. He was about to say the fire that had killed her parents, but had stopped himself just in time.
Rebecca closed her eyes and smiled. "It's alright."
"Look, I'm sorry for bringing it up."
"No, don't worry about it. You're probably right, though, it was stranger than what I usually dream, so it was probably just a bad dream."
Brad nodded and turned back to the road. Rebecca sighed and leaned her head against the window, watching the few trees that populated the Poho County fly by.