Chapter Two

Stormfront

"Now be good for Uncle Toby.  I'll be back around nine."  Sarah told her children when she dropped them off at her parent's house the next day after school.  It had rained all through the night and well into that afternoon, coming down in drenching sheets as if it was never going to stop.  The faint growl of thunder lingered in the distance.  "Just because Grandma and Grandpa are out of town doesn't mean you can run wild.  I don't want to come back and find him hog-tied like last time…"

"Don't worry, Sarah.  I got some stuff in mind that'll have them tired out long before you get home.  You better get going before you're late."

Sarah shifted her umbrella on her shoulder, and looked skeptically at her son and daughter.  Samantha was grinning innocently up at her with her bug brown, puppy dog eyes.  Jack was, as always, cool and serious, but today he was wearing the small, mischievous smile he had inherited from his father.

"Don't worry, Mom.  We'll be good."

With one last "Don't-let-them-walk-all-over-you" look at Toby, Sarah kissed both her children and walked down the narrow path to her car, and before she could get the key into the door lock she heard Toby ask: "So, what kind of pizza do you guys want?  If we get two large four-toppings, we get two free two-liter bottles of soda and a pack a peanut M&Ms!"

Sarah couldn't help but laugh, shaking her head.  He was giving them sugar right away?  Her little brother was going to have his hands full tonight…

*              *              *

Well, so much for a night out.  Toby thought glumly as he continued to light candles around the living room, trying to purge as much darkness as possible.  It figures that the power would go out, but in weather like this, I shouldn't be so surprised.  Outside the bay windows of the front room, the wind picked up to frightening speed, screaming across the roof and whipping the trees outside into a mad frenzy.  Rain lashed violently at the windows.  The small radio that he had at his bedside warned of tropical storms (which was odd, for this time of year) and advised people to stay indoors. 

At least Sarah's all right.  He thought with a relieved mental sigh.  It was good of her to call when she got to Springbank.  That's one less thing the kids have to worry about tonight.  Maybe the storm will die down by the time she gets home, but I think we don't have to count on her showing up at nine… Maybe I should have told her to hold up in a motel for the night, at least until the worse of the storm is passed.  It's not like I can't take care of Jack and Sammy for one night…

The living room was littered with rumpled up napkins and discarded paper plates, the two massive pizza boxes nearly empty with nothing more than half-eaten crusts and bits of congealed cheese clinging to the inner cardboard surfaces.  It  had truly surprised him how much those two little kids could eat.  He had hoped that afterwards they could have gone to the movies or something along those lines, but the sudden power outage put a stop to that idea real quick.  Now they were left with little to do than sit and listen to the storm.

Jack was lying on his stomach on the floor, looking desperate to try to read his book by candle light, but his furrowed brow and deep frown told Toby that is wasn't working well.  Sammy was curled up on the couch, buried under a big wool blanket, whimpering slightly with every crash of lightning.  Toby knew that Jack could care less if the storm picked up into a full-scale hurricane, but he knew of Sammy's dislike of such weather, and the last thing he wanted was for her to feel any more miserable than she already was.  Trying to think of something that could help take her mind off the storm, he spotted his sister's worn old copy of Labyrinth lying on the table.  He smiled.

"Hey, Sammy…"  He knelt in front of his niece, and the little girl looked at his through the space between her arms.  "What's your favorite part in Labyrinth?"

Sammy sniffed, but brining up the topic of her favorite book was already side-tracking her mind away from the storm.  "When the Goblin King shows up for the first time."

"Really?"  Toby said was faux surprise.  "I didn't know that.  But you know, I really can't remember how that part went.  Could you help remind me?"

"It started when the young girl couldn't stand watching over her baby brother anymore."  Sammy began, her voice growing more confident.  "And she was hurt by her stepmother, so she decided to call on the Goblins for help.  She wished her little brother away, and then the Goblin King appeared, but she told him she really didn't mean it…"

"I'm beginning to remember!"  Toby said, pretended to become excited over his returning memory.  "He showed up in her bedroom."

"Yep!  Do you remember what he said?"

"I think so…but in order to really remember, I think I need to get into character…"  Toby stood back up and hastily walked over to the closest under the stairs, groping blindly through the darkness until he found what he was looking for.  It was his sister's old costume trunk, full of all her old outfits that she didn't take with her to college.  He undid the latches on the lid and flipped it open, the old and worn scent of dust and mothballs raising to meet him.  Rummaging around in the trunk, relaying on his touch alone, he found what he was looking for.  His fingers grazed the soft velvet material of an old cloak, spangled with round beads and sequences.  A smile crossed his face as he drew it out, wrapping the old cloak around his body.  "Sammy, what was it that she said to the Goblin King?"

Sammy's voice became desperate, pleading.  "'Return the child, please, if it's all the same.'"

Toby's grin grew wider as he stepped out from the closest into the light and shadow of the candle-lit room, and Sammy squealed in delight.  "'What's said is said.'" Toby responded, his voice low and serious.

Stifling her giggles, Sammy took a step towards him.  "'But, I didn't mean it!'"

Toby arched an eyebrow, crossing his arms across his lithe chest.  "Oh, you didn't?'"

"'Please, return him to me!'"

"'Are you not happy with your granted wish?  Forget about the baby.'"

Just before Sammy could continue, lightning flashed, flooding the room with intense white light and thunder boomed a heartbeat later, shaking the house to its foundations.  The eight-year old screamed in fright, clapping her hands over her ears and dropping to her knees.  Toby jumped, and even Jack sprang to his feet, startling out of the world his book drew him into.  When the sound of thunder died, leaving only pounding rain in its wake, Toby chuckled.  "Sounds like the storm's hit its zenith now."

"What's…zenith?"  Sammy asked in a small voice.

"High point.  Worse of the worse."  Jack answered, sitting up and rubbing his eyes, which had finally given out due to the weak light.

Sammy whimpered.  "Are we safe?  Is the house going to blow over?"

Toby cocked his head, listening to the rain hammering on the roof and the wind howling in the trees.  Down the street, something was lodged loose – perhaps a mailbox, or a stray trashcan – and hit the pavement of the street, rolling away.  Chances are the worse they would see the next morning was maybe a few downed trees, and the roof was definitely going to be short a few shingles, but the damage would not be much worse than that.  "I don't think we have to worry about the house blowing over."

"What about….burglars?"

Jack raised an eyebrow over his glasses.  "Burglars?"

"Yeah… All the scary stories say that they like breaking into homes during storms when all the lights are out and there are no parents home…"

Toby smirked.  He knew that he was to blame for that insane notion, letting them watch those scary suspense movies when he was watching them at night, and the chances of anyone breaking in was slim, but he could not resist the opportunity to tease his niece.  "I don't think they would be able to come in through the front or back door, seeing that they're both locked.  But you know that tree in front goes right up to Grandma and Grandpa's room, so they could climb up that tree and right through the window…"

"Uncle Toby, you're so mean!"  Sammy squealed, launching herself from her squatting position and latching around his middle, making him overbalance and sending him toppling into the couch with a cry of surprise.  Toby struggled, but Sammy was surprisingly stronger than she seemed; she sat on his chest and rendering him immobile.

"Ack!  Jack!  Just don't sit there, come and help me!" Toby's pleas for help were betrayed when Jack did indeed get up from the floor, but instead went to his sister's aid, helping her pin Toby further to the couch as the two children tickled him relentlessly.  The storm outside was forgotten in the three-person tickle fest, the sounds of the laughter filling the room, drowning out all others.

The only thing that broke the laughter was the loud thump on the floor from the upstairs bedroom.

All three of them stopped immediately, as if someone had hit the "mute" button, staring up at the ceiling above with large, anxious eyes.

"Oh, no…"  Sammy moaned quietly.  "Uncle Toby…there's something upstairs…"

Toby sat up slowly, never taking his eyes off the ceiling.  "I'm sure it's nothing.  Something probably just got knocked over."

"By what?" Jack asked cynically.

"Well…maybe Grandma left something on the edge of her dresser…" His voice trailed off as he heard, very faintly, the faint pulse of footsteps threading across the upstairs carpet.  Or not…Of course the phones would be out now…

"Okay you two, wait here.  I'm going to go take a look."

"What, are you nuts?" Jack snapped as his sister whimpered.  "We don't know who's up there!  They have a knife on them, or worse!"

"Did I say I was going in unarmed?" Toby asked.  Eyes glued to the stairwell just in case whatever it was upstairs decided to come downstairs, he slowly walked backwards until he felt his back press against the kitchen door.  He opened it slowly, reaching one arm around the corner and grouping for the nearest utensil that could be used as a weapon.  He hoped he could get a hold of a knife, at least…

His fingers closed around a cold, stainless-steel handle and he whipped his hand back in front of him, holding his weapon defensively before him.  "Alright.  I'm going in…"

"Uncle Toby…" Jack sounded far from impressed.  "That's a ladle."

Toby frowned and looked down, seeing that he was indeed hold a deep silver ladle in his hand.  Despite her fear, Samantha giggled.  "Well, if he comes close at all…I'll spoon him to death.  Now, you two stay here."  Without looking back, he slowly began to ascend the stairs and into darkness.

For the first few seconds, neither child moved.  Jack peered up into the darkness like an owl as Samantha clutched desperately to his arm.  Finally, Jack sighed.  "Come on, let's follow him."

The upstairs of their grandparent's house was completely dark, illuminated only by the frequent flashes of lightning from the storm.  The wind was howling through the tiny cracks in the window planes, making the hallway seem to be infested with ghosts.  With each flash of lightning, Toby could see the doors along the hallway had been opened, one by one.  Toby's room, the bathroom, their mother's old room when she lived here…  There was only one door left.

Toby stood by the door that led to his parent's bedroom, one hand poised over the doorknob.  In another flash of lightning, he caught slight movement out of the corner of his eye.  His head snapped around to see Jack and Samantha standing right next to him.  "I thought I told you two to stay downstairs!" he hissed through clenched teeth.

"We're not letting you go in alone."

"Jack, take Samantha downstairs now!"

Jack raised an eyebrow.  "Ladle."

Toby sighed, dejected.  Didn't he just say himself it probably wasn't anything but their overactive imaginations?  "Fine.  Just…stay back, okay?  If it is anything…be ready to run when I say so."

"Uncle Toby…" Sammy whispered.

"It's okay, munchkin."  Taking a deep breath, he grabbed hold of the doorknob and pushed the door open.

The room was silent and dark.  At first, it looked like there was nothing wrong.  Still…

Something wasn't right.  A tingling sensation prickled along Toby's back and neck, making all his hair stand on end.  Why did this all seem…so very familiar?  Like a long forgotten dream…

Lightning flashed, and it was only too late when he saw the shadow-cloaked figure move swiftly towards them.

"You!"

It was the only sound Toby could make before something struck him on the side of the head, and he knew no more.

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To Be Continued…

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