Little Lost Girl
As she sits in the lodge, her fingers drumming against the chipped wood of the picnic bench, Elka waits. She keeps her attention fixed on the double doors in front of her, her ears alert to any creaking hinges from the back exit. All she hears is her own tapping, steady, monotonous, and dull. Looking over her shoulder, she finds Phoebe's drums and Quentin's turntables waiting for them to return and create new music so she can clap along like she had done during last year's talent show.
Glancing over her shoulder, she spots Phoebe's drums and Quentin's turntables on the stage. A fine layer of dust had already begun to coat them. Moths drift over to the scarf Quentin had draped over the cardboard box used to hoist himself up, fluttering above it and resting within the worn cotton. A note in Phoebe's handwriting addresses the campers promising to return within the hour, and if they mess with their instruments, she'd involve Milla, but the crossed out phrases mentioning any kind of burning did not go unnoticed by Elka.
She believes the hour has long passed. She knows for a fact they would never leave their instruments unattended after the incident unless they needed to attend class. What Bobby and Benny did two years ago still makes her shiver, and she shoves the memory to the back of her mind.
The television next door continues murmuring and catches her attention. Occasional static crackles, spliced with accents she can't place. Even though she had already checked twice now, she stands up and goes over. Her footsteps are a mere pitter patter, and guiding herself up the stairs, she takes in a short breath before calling out Nils' name.
Surveying the dim interior, she huffs out a sigh. The bean bags are creased and lopsided. Torn coloring paper is strewn across the carpet, and broken crayons are scattered everywhere. She comes ambles around, eyeing the Western playing, the whizzing gunshots far louder than she expected. Rubbing her forearms, Elka turns on her heels and stomps out, trying to ignore the chill trickling down her spine.
With no reason to stay inside, she pulls herself out of the lodge. On the balcony, she finds Kitty and Franke's quilt. She edges around it, watching a few ants hurry across the violet patterns. She kneels by the box they used for their thread. Spotting the needles, she wonders why they would bother having them when their telekinesis is delicate enough to make as many friendship bracelets as they wanted.
Elka plucks one of the leftover bracelets. The unfurling orange yarn had been twisted into a knot while the red strands hung towards the ground. She rubs her forefinger and thumb between the coarse material before flicking it into the box.
Bobby and Benny would have had a field day tossing their stuff into the lake just like they had done last year. Dousing the thread in mud or breaking the needles, it's exactly what they should've been doing. Otherwise, Kitty would have made absolutely certain her pristine belongings were locked up in the advanced campers' cabin away from prying eyes and telekinetic hands.
And yet, Bobby and Benny hadn't taken up such an opportunity while Kitty and Franke abandoned their bracelets and quilt.
Standing up, Elka squints at the roof. Chloe isn't there anymore, but she assumes they left for the woods after their levitation class. That little alien, with their mind fixed on space, always seemed to be searching for higher places just like Clem and Crystal. She wonders if that's simply the case, but the wind hissing across the barren campgrounds scorns her.
She makes her way towards the bridge. It sways underneath her, and she grips the rope railing. Her hands itch as she drags herself along, her palms feeling as if they would blister, but she continues, her thoughts twisting as she ponders a strange conspiracy.
In the past hour and a half, she couldn't find anyone in camp. She searched high and low for any camper to discuss the cruel way Melvin and James had treated her. They had left two very harsh notes about her on the bulletin board, calling her a filly of all things! It wasn't like she had actually done anything wrong. They were the ones who mistreated her, and she knew her friends would take her side, consoling her as she lamented her choice in boys.
But as she looked, calling out names and avoiding telekinetic claws from disturbed bears, no one answered. Crystal wasn't in the girls' cabin or on the roof. Milka wasn't canoodling with her new boyfriend in the caves. Phoebe wasn't playing her drums or taking supplementary classes with Milla. From the lake, to the forest, and all the way back to the cabin area, she had realized in her search that no one was around. They were gone like ghosts out of the corners of her eyes, and unless they're all playing some sort of invisible joke on her, then she's not laughing.
She leaps off the bridge, wobbling slightly as she comes in contact with steady ground. One glance around the cabin area makes her sigh. Like the many other places she inspected, no one is around. She storms over to each cabin and pokes her head inside. Empty beds, wrinkled blankets, leftover granola bar wrappers, discarded backpacks, the usual suspects greet her. When she enters the girls' cabin, she's hit with the faint scent of Franke's perfume, a mixture of roses and strawberries, a gift from Kitty.
Elka sits on her bed, which groans under her weight. The cheap thing can hardly be called a mattress as she glares at the sharp coils springing up through a small hole by her feet. Drawing her knees to her chest, she rubs her temples, sighs, and contemplates.
She knew Whispering Rock was going to have a tragedy this time around. It all started with her revelation about her parents' imminent disaster. One of them would cheat, and off she was shipped to camp without a second thing.
Her worries only heightened when she passed through the rusted gates. An incomprehensible vision had flashed across eyes like the reflection of a television screen. All she saw was a looming figure cloaked in shadows, a three-pronged claw spewing out green particles, and, for some unfathomable reason, a cracked bathtub levitating in a sky surrounded by thick purple thorns, but her parents had already started their car and off they went, leaving her shaken in the middle of the parking car.
Nothing about it made sense. She didn't know what to make of it, especially since she had other problems. Dumping Nils, dating James, dealing with Melvin, trying to win back Nils, it all pushed her vision to the back of her mind, forgotten until now.
She tucks her thumb into her palm and squeezes. Sucking down a breath, she forces herself off her bed and claps her cheeks. She has no time to be moping around when Nils is missing or messing around with other girls. She knows she'll find him eventually, her foresight promising their eventual union, but the stillness of Whispering Rock creeps into her skin and makes her shudder.
Leaving her cabin, she grimaces as a groan slips through the air. She jerks her head around, twirling her finger through a lock of blonde hair before discerning the sound is coming from the speakers. She watches them vibrate as they spit out another tired, disgruntled hum. Noticing an orange hue beginning to decorate the sky, she swallows and knows the source of those strange sounds all too well.
Much to chagrin, she comes across him after trudging up his treehouse steps. Oleander is slouched over at his desk. Too much drool dribbles over his squished cheek, and she wrinkles her nose, wishing she hadn't seen such a disgusting sight. She bites her tongue and approaches, careful to not startle him. She knows he would lash out at any camper who interrupted his nap, snarling that he would throw them into the GPC until the end of summer, a threat she knew why Bobby took so seriously.
"Coach?" she whispers and pokes his shoulder. She rolls her eyes when he sniffs, his mustache appearing like it had twitched. "Oh, my God. Hey, Coach Oleander? Hello?"
Another mumble, sniff, and what sounds like a whimper. Elka drags her hand down her face and grumbles.
"Oh, I don't have time for this. Coach, wake up," she hisses, digging her finger into his neck.
Elka recoils as he flips his head up, his eyes widening and teeth chattering like pounding cymbals. Oleander sucks down a breath, his hands racing along his neck and rubbing the spot where she had jabbed him. He brings his gloved hands to his mouth as if to bite down on his fingernails only to spot Elka managing a lopsided grin. She steps backwards, watching him raise his fist and twist his features into a snarl, and she quickly counts how many steps she would take before reaching the ramp in case she has to bolt.
"Cadet Doom," he says as if seeing her for the first time, "what do you want?"
She wraps her arms behind her back and rocks on her heels. "Um, so, I have a quick question. I was wondering if you saw Nils. Maybe Crystal or Phoebe-"
"And you interrupted my scheming-er, mandatory and absolutely necessary rest to ask that?" He smacks his hand on his desk, wincing when he comes in contact with his own drool. Wiping it against his thigh, he shakes his head. "You know how big Whispering Rock is. They're probably out playing tag or getting lessons from that egghead Nein." He hums and scratches his chin, leaning towards her. "Hey, shouldn't you be in levitation class?"
"Uh, no, I got that badge today. Also, Milla and Sasha left a note saying they were needed for something outside of camp." She grips her hips. "Besides, I've looked everywhere. No one's around."
She thinks he looks perplexed for a moment, but maybe it's the way the sun filters in on his face and forces his eyes into a squint. He fiddles with the hem of his uniform, saying, "It's that late already, huh?" He jumps off his chair and waddles past her without waiting for an answer.
She watches him survey the camp. He seems to be scanning for any sign of other campers. She glances back at the sky, watching the blue hues melt and give way to a line of vibrant straw yellow on the edge of the horizon, the color reminding her of Nils' hair. Her heart squeezes, blending with the dull throb in the back of her skull, and frowning, she crosses her arms over her chest.
"So, um..." She clears her throat again. "...what do you think? Where is everyone?"
He turns back to face her, his hand still gripping the railing. Gesturing for her to follow, he ambles down the ramp.
Elka throws her arms up when he's out of her sight. Anyone with half a brain would know he's being stranger than usual. He would normally shout at her to be dismissed. She even anticipated being thrown out of the treehouse if she really aggravated him, but with no other choice, she stomps after him.
"You know, that is a good question. Wondering where everyone is. Searching high and low for your comrades." He glances over his shoulder at her as they make it down to the ground. "You did that, right?"
"Um, yeah. I couldn't find anyone." She shrugs as he looks over each of the cabins. "Oh, I checked there. I pretty much checked everywhere."
"And you came to your superior officer for help. That's exactly what a good Psychonaut would do when the mission goes south." He bobs his head up and down, his jowls creasing. "You know, you've always shown promise, Doom. You'd be an Astral Warrior by now if you made time for some real training."
Elka furrows her brows, her mouth creasing into a tight scowl. "Well, that came out of nowhere. Why are you-?"
He doesn't look at her, continuing as if she hadn't interjected. "You've been coming here for three years now, but you're still a Psychic Scout. Cadets Love and Hedgemouse are two ranks higher than you, and you're older than them." He smirks, more his mustard yellow teeth appearing in a crooked smirk. "Maybe if you paid more attention in Basic Braining, then you'd be something special."
"Seriously, what brought this up? You're just-" She waves her hand as if swatting a fly. "-I don't know but whatever! If you're not going to help me, then I'm leaving. I'll find Nils by myself."
Elka pivots on her heels and balls her hands into fists. She swings her arms, storming towards the bridge when Oleander calls out her name. Her eyes roll to the top of her skull, irritation spreading through her like a disease. Tossing her head back, she whirls herself around and crosses her arms, her eyes narrowing into venomous slits.
Oleander approaches her, his expression indiscernible. She glances him up and down, noticing a dark spot on his lapel. It's a much deeper stain compared to the beige color of his uniform. She assumes it must be from coffee or marinara sauce from Chef Cruller's leftover pasta they all had for dinner last night. Dark orange circles shadow underneath his eyes, reminding her of her father on the day they abandoned her at camp.
The coach she knows isn't a slob. He might have halitosis, but he presents himself in an off-puttingly noble way. His clothes are always pressed and cleaned. When he eats, it's never messily unless Sasha had agitated him enough into challenging Sasha to a telekinetic food fight.
It strikes her all of a sudden that she's never seen him appear so...unsettling, and the dull ache in the back of her mind grows.
"Looks like you're right. There's no one else here in the cabin area." He gazes out to the bridge. "No one's in the lodge or by the lake? Did you check the caves?"
"Uh, yeah! When I said I looked everywhere, what did you think I meant?" she shrieks, flailing her arms out, her fingers barely missing his chest.
He harrumphs, nodding along. "I guess the job is nearly done."
She recoils. His words process in her mind in the span of a heartbeat. Lowering her hands, she fidgets with the hem of her pale green shirt. The breeze causes the hairs on her neck to rise. She draws in a slow breath and holds it, her mouth hanging open with nothing to say as Oleander shifts his weight on to his left leg.
"With you searching around for your fellow cadets, I guess Loboto's pet missed you. I'm almost surprised she didn't gobble you up with Nils." He shrugs only for a flash of concern to pass by in his eyes, his hand reaching out for her shoulder. "Hey, are you…?"
The throbbing in the back of her head surges forth, and her eyes bulge in her skull. She grips her locks, pulling out a few strands as strange pictures prey upon her mind. The figure looms over her, his three-pronged claw reflecting her pale white complexion. His black lips twists in a cheek-splitting smirk like a monster she would see in a cheap horror movie, making her stomach churn with too much anxiety to bear. He raises it to her nose, spraying those greenish black particles at her, and she sneezes again and again until her head is hollow, weightless, empty without a single thought.
Oleander sighs, touching his brow. "It would've been easier if you didn't snoop around. I expected that from Raz when he mentioned the U.P.E but not from you." He grins and cocks his head. "I gotta admit, I'm impressed, soldier. That's exactly the kind of brain power I need."
"What do you-? Are you-?" She splutters, her head beginning to shake back and forth. Her breathing comes in shallow pants as Oleander raises his fist, his eyes narrowing on her, his voice emboldened by her fear.
"I've got big plans, Elka, and they involve every single one of you kids. You've all made at least some progress with your psychic training this summer. At this point, that's the best I can ask for to power the tanks." He steeples his fingers and advances on her, all traces of care and consideration swapping for palpable malice which makes the sweat beading on her brow trickle down her face. "Don't worry. I'll put that mind of yours to good work. You won't have to worry about the future or Nils ever again."
Elka doesn't think twice when she bolts. She rushes past Oleander, swinging her arms wildly and nearly knocking him over. A cry rips out of her mouth as she dives into a cave, her feet smashing against upturned stones and fumbling over cracks. Her body lurches, her spine hunching as she tumbles deeper, and her knees skid against the coarse rock and cuts open. She doesn't even feel the sting or the blood bubbling in the scratches as she comes to a sudden stop, her mouth slacking open and limbs going numb.
It's a dead end. The blue refrigerator mocks her. Water slips in the cracks and follows down uneven paths past her shoes. Liquid drips down from the tiny stalactites and lands on her shoulders. The only exit is the way she came, and her knees buckle, her hands covering her mouth.
Thud.
Oh, no, oh, no, oh no.
Thud. The rocks behind her shift.
This seriously can't be happening.
Thud. The cave trembles.
Where are you, Nils? Are you okay?
Thud, thud, thud. The ground quakes underneath her, but she forces herself to remain upright.
Why'd I have to see Mom cheating instead of this?
A shadow crosses over her, and she pleads under her breath. Every shake of her head causes her full hair to brush against her ruddy cheeks. Her breathing quickens, a hot stench permeating just above her, and she doesn't want to look.
With no other option, Elka turns around, her movements mechanical with rusted joints and popping knees.
She can't comprehend what she is staring at. It's massive. Its' cranium, if she can call it that, brushes against the stalactites and cracks a few of them off. She thinks its' skin looks rubbery and unusually shiny as if it had emerged from the watery depths. With the thing's maw wide open, she sees uneven, jagged teeth with ripped cloth and is that Elton's sailor hat dangling on one of them?
Elka blinks once, twice, and then her body slowly falls backwards. A sigh slips out of her as her eyelids flutter. She collapses without incident, her head smacking against the refrigerator as the beast pounces.
Before she can fully embrace unconsciousness as the monster suctions something onto her foot, she wonders why she couldn't see such a tragedy happening right in the heart of Whispering Rock.