There were screams, so loud, so piercing, she had to cover her ears. There was a flash of bright white light and then…silence.
Her breathing was ragged. She could hear her heartbeat in her ears. "Puppy?" she whispered. "Puppy?"
Slowly, she removed the covers from her head and turned the lamp back on. Her closet door was wide open but, now, nothing lurked inside. It was vacant except for her clothes and shoes. Had Puppy gotten rid of the bad man?
"Puppy?" She sat up all the way in her bed. Where was he? "Puppy, where did you go?'
What if something bad had happened to him? What if the bad man had hurt him? Beth felt hot tears pool in her eyes. It would be all her fault. She shouldn't have said anything about the bad man. Now…Now Puppy was gone, probably hurt.
Beth rubbed her eyes. She was being a baby, she knew that, but she couldn't help but cry at the thought of Puppy being hurt in any way. It scared her, mainly because she wasn't able to help…
Maybe…Maybe he'll be back in the morning, she thought. Maybe he just took the bad man to jail or something and now he has to rest…Maybe he's not hurt at all.
The idea cheered her up, but only a little, and she rolled over onto her side, clutching Theodore and resting him under her chin. "Goodnight, Puppy," she said quietly as her eyes began to close. "Wherever you are."
Fifteen years later
I opened my eyes to the alarm on my phone going off. Seven-thirty. With a groan, I reached over, grabbed my phone, and killed the persistent beeping.
A part of me wanted to stay there in the warmth of my bed, while the other more logical, mature part of me told me to get up. After all, today was the day.
Right, I thought. First day of class. Hip-hip hooray.
With a yawn, I sat up and stretched my arms over my head. First day of class. It had gotten here faster than I had anticipated and, if I were really honest with myself, I couldn't have been happier. I had been putting college off for the past two years but today was finally the day. I was getting out of here.
After I pulled myself from bed, I trudged down the stairs and made my way into the kitchen, where Uncle Sam was already sitting at the table, mug of coffee in his hand, sporting a black t-shirt and jeans. He was glancing through his propped up tablet, swiping each page. Probably over another case.
Working on a day off again, I thought. Typical. Fifty-two years old and he's still kicking like he's in his thirties.
He looked up, noticing me come in. "Morning, Bee. Sleep well?"
"Yeah, I guess." I went over to the pantry and pulled out a box of cereal.
"You guess?"
I could feel his eyes boring into my back as I grabbed a bowl and a spoon. I didn't have to look at him to know that the usual interrogative questions were piling up in his brain. "Yeah…just, weird dream."
"Weird how?"
I knocked the fridge door closed with my hip, milk in my other hand, and made my way over to the table. I didn't say anything as I poured out a big helping of cereal and then drowned it in the almond milk.
"Bee?"
I sat down and dipped my spoon into the bowl. "Uncle Sam…do you remember that imaginary friend I had when I was younger? Puppy?"
"What about him?"
I slipped a spoonful of cereal into my mouth. It tasted dry. Bland. "I had a dream about him last night. Or…at least I think I did. I'm not sure."
"You're not sure?"
I shrugged. "I can't even remember what he looked like, Uncle Sam. Or what he sounded like. It's just…weird, you know? One minute he's practically my only friend, and now it's as if my brain wiped him out of my memory."
Uncle Sam moved his tablet to the side. "Well, I mean, Bee, you did have that one bad experience with him."
"Oh…right." The dream-the memory-came flooding back. I had been five years old. Puppy had come in the night and he'd gotten rid of the "bad man" in my closet. Even though the dream had been more somber, the reality of it was like a nightmare. A nightmare, I suppose, I had wanted to forget. Apparently I had started screaming and wailing and Zoe had had to console me until my aunt and uncle had gotten home. After that…I never saw Puppy again. He'd simply disappeared. Still, I'd often felt as if he were never truly gone. Not really. Like, he was still there somehow, some way.
Why did that sound so crazy?
"You're probably just stressed about your first day." My uncle gave me his reassuring It'll All Be Okay smile. "It's completely normal for a person's mind to dredge up old memories when they're overwhelmed about something."
"Yeah, maybe." I took another bite of my cereal. The idea of it just being stress made me feel a little better, as if I weren't crazy after all. Still. Why was it bothering me at all?
"Tell you what." Uncle Sam leaned forward and tented his fingers. "Why don't I drive you to campus?"
I rolled my eyes. "I think I'll be okay, Uncle Sam. You've been driving me to school since kindergarten…"
"All the more reason, right?" His smile broadened a little more. "C'mon. For old time's sake."
Something in his eyes made me want to say yes. After all, that would've been the nice, proper niece-like thing to do. But the very idea of being trapped in a vehicle with my uncle for the twenty minute drive trying to summon up some kind of conversation instead of sitting in that numbing silence-the same kind that had been growing for the past two years-made me nauseous.
"Really, Uncle Sam. I'll be fine. I'll just take my bike, okay?"
"Alright. Yeah. Sure."
Three synonyms. He was upset. Great.
I watched as he stood up and grabbed his tablet. As he passed by me, he patted me on the shoulder, still playing the part of the reassuring uncle. "Have a great first day at school, kiddo."
I gave him a cool smile and, the moment he was out of the kitchen, I pushed my cereal bowl away, my appetite diminished.
I leaned back in my chair, craning my head towards the ceiling. "Puppy," I whispered. "I wish you were still here."
Bayview, Nevada
The Night Before
"Ian!" Wendy threw open the closet, then slammed it shut again. "Ian, really, come on. It's way past your bedtime. Your parents are going to be home any minute."
She glanced around the room and, much to her relief, saw a pair of bare feet and a sliver of blue plaid pajamas poking out from underneath the bed. Casually, she strolled over to them, reached down, and pulled, yanking the seven year old out from his hiding place.
He had a look of disappointment on his face as he turned and stared up at her. "How did you find me?"
"Because I'm the master of hide and seek, that's why." She brushed a strand of her red hair from her face and tucked it behind her ear. "Now, c'mon. Into bed. You know how your mom gets."
"Yeah, yeah."
Ian got to his feet and climbed into bed, pulling the covers up to his chin.
His babysitter leaned over to turn out the light. "Can you leave it on again?"
The girl smirked. "Ian, I told you. There's no such thing as monsters."
"Please?"
She rolled her eyes. "Fine." She reached over and ruffled his mass of curly black hair. "Night, buddy."
As she walked into the hallway, she left the door open a crack, just like always. Still, something felt a little…off. Walking down the hallway, she stopped, and then turned to the light next to her. It flickered once, then twice, then three times and then went back to normal.
"What the hell?" She tapped the glass casing, but the light continued to remain as it was. "Weird."
She shrugged her shoulders and went into the living room, turning on the television. She found a channel that aired old cartoons and kept it there as she settled onto the sofa. Not even five minutes later, the screen on the television began to frizzle.
Her eyebrows knitted together in confusion. She made a move to get up, but stopped. She wasn't alone.
Wendy.
She felt her breath catch in her throat.
Little Wendy, all grown up.
Slowly, she turned her head, just a little, but turned it regardless. There was…something. It lurked in the shadows, flitted about like a moth, a ghost, a vampire.
Wendy made no move to get up or run. It would be pointless. She couldn't feel her legs and, even if she had been able, this was faster, stronger than she was.
I'm so hungry, Wendy. Be a good girl and come here to me. He smiled a toothy grin and held out his hand, his scythe like claws extending from his dark corner. Come now, Wendy. Don't make me come over there and get you. Do what Daddy tells you.
Wendy stood, shaking. She could feel the tears leaking from her eyes as she slowly made her way over to the dark corner.
She knew that he had finally come for her. No matter how hard she tried, she should've known there was no evading the inevitable. Most of all, she knew that the minute she reached out to him, he would take her. And she wasn't ready.
But then again, who ever really is?
Lawrence, Kansas
The Following Morning
Sam flipped through the pages of the article on his tablet, reading and rereading each and every paragraph, sorting through the details.
Wendy Lance, 16, was found in the Phillips' residence by Mr. and Mrs. Phillips when they returned from a dinner party. Her throat was slit from ear to ear…Her head was shaved…Most of her organs had been removed. Blood was everywhere…The little boy she had been babysitting…He had been standing there, staring at her, his feet in her blood…
The last few details he had gotten from his Chief of Police friend Jack Randolph. He had helped Jack solve a case from his home about three years back. Sam had thought it was a vengeful witch looking to get payback on her cheating scum of a husband and his mistress. After Jack had made the arrest, however, it turned out to be nothing more than a regular woman who spiked every last drop of alcohol in the residence with arsenic after the spells she found on the internet didn't work. Either way, Jack told him if he ever needed Sam's help again, he would let him know.
Sure enough, he had woken Sam up at about five in the morning with a text and a link to the article, as well as a link to the evidence they were still uncovering.
Eyes leaking blood, wide, as if she had been scared. Nice girl, according to the Phillips'. Got along well with their kid. Went to see the aunt she's been living with since she was five months old. Aunt didn't take it well. Asked if Wendy had any enemies, anyone that might want to hurt her. She said no. Apparently Wendy was a straight A student, had a lot of friends, was even volunteering at an animal shelter. We took a look at her room. Nothing out of the ordinary. She'd been reading the Bible. Crucifix was hanging above her bed. We did find one thing, though. Kinda threw the whole room off a bit. There was something like an altar on the window sill. It was a black candle with some weird symbol carved into it. Around the candle was dried flowers and a few bits of raw onyx. Witchcraft? I figured this might be up your alley.
Sam took a look at the picture. No. No, it wasn't witchcraft. He peered at the symbol on the candle and zoomed in a bit more. This, he decided. This was definitely a girl seeking to protect herself from something. But what?
He began to look over the crime scene photos, just as he heard the patter of feet coming down the stairs. Quickly, he flipped to one of his old cases. He couldn't let Beth see the photos. She'd ask too many questions, and he hated lying to his niece.
Beth groggily walked into the kitchen, rubbing at her eyes.
"Morning, Bee. Sleep well?"
"Yeah, I guess." He watched as she went over to the pantry and pulled out a box of cereal.
"You guess?" Something was off about her voice. Sure, Beth had never been a morning person, but this was different.
"Yeah…just, weird dream."
"Weird how?"
She walked over to the table and remained silent as she got her breakfast together. There was a faraway look to her eyes, as if she were thinking about something that she couldn't quite place her finger on.
"Bee?"
She plopped down into the chair and slipped her spoon into the bowl. "Uncle Sam…do you remember that imaginary friend I had when I was younger? Puppy?"
"What about him?"
She began eating. "I had a dream about him last night. Or…at least I think I did. I'm not sure."
"You're not sure?"
Beth shrugged. "I can't even remember what he looked like, Uncle Sam. Or what he sounded like. It's just…weird, you know? One minute he's practically my only friend, and now it's as if my brain wiped him out of my memory."
Sam turned off his tablet and sat it to the side. "Well, I mean, Bee, you did have that one bad experience with him."
Sam had remembered coming home to find Zoe cradling a crying Beth in her bed. She said that she had heard his niece screaming and, since then, had never left. After Zoe had been relieved, however, Sam had been able to find out that Cas had simply disappeared. The door to his niece's closet had been wide open, too, which Beth had refused to talk about. More or less, Sam had been left with more questions than answers.
"Oh…right."
"You're probably just stressed about your first day. It's completely normal for a person's mind to dredge up old memories when they're overwhelmed about something."
"Yeah, maybe."
His words seemed to have some effect on her and she looked slightly more relieved. "Tell you what." He leaned forward and tented his fingers. "Why don't I drive you to campus?"
Of course, he should've known better than to ask that. A wedge had been forcing itself between them for the past couple of years. She rarely spoke to him anymore. It was if something had drastically changed within her and Sam couldn't put his finger on it. He had supposed, at first, that it was just her trying to claim her independence. She had been a teenager after all. But even after she got out of that phase, there was still something there. It lingered, grew, like a rapidly spreading disease.
Now in his study, Sam flipped through the crime scene photos, feet propped up on his desk. He heard the front door close twenty minutes later as Beth left.
As soon as he was sure she was gone, he sat down his tablet and leaned back in his chair, craning his head towards the ceiling.
"Cas," he whispered. "Where the hell did you go?"