The night air was chillingly cool as Dove stood on the porch, watching Steve's car disappear down the street. The weight of the night still clung to her, but now that she was home, the familiar sense of safety started to creep back in. She let out a slow breath, trying to push away the memories of everything that had gone wrong.

Just as she turned to open the front door, a rustling noise by the side of the house caught her attention. Dove froze, her heart skipping a beat. It was faint, but unmistakable—something was moving in the shadows near the trash cans.

"Dustin?" she called softly, thinking maybe her little brother was trying to sneak around. She wouldn't have put it past him.

No response.

She took a hesitant step toward the noise, her nerves still on edge from the night's events. Another rustle, followed by a faint scratching sound, sent her heart racing. Whatever was making that noise, it wasn't a raccoon.

Before Dove could decide whether to investigate or retreat, the front door creaked open behind her.

"Dove?"

She turned to see Dustinstanding in the doorway, his arms full of candy from a night of trick-or-treating. His face was lit up with excitement, but the moment he saw her standing there, his smile faltered. "What's going on?"

Dove gestured toward the trash cans. "I heard something. Over there."

Dustin's eyes widened with curiosity. Without a second thought, he dropped his candy bag on the porch and rushed toward the sound. "Let me check it out!" he whispered, as if this were the adventure of a lifetime.

"Dustin, wait—" Dove began, but he was already crouching beside the trash cans, his hands reaching out to move the bags aside.

The moment he uncovered the source of the noise, Dustin gasped, his voice full of wonder. "Dove, come look at this!"

Against her better judgment, Dove joined him, crouching down beside the trash cans. Her breath caught in her throat when she saw what Dustin was looking at. Nestled between the garbage bags was a small, wriggling creature. It wasn't like anything Dove had ever seen before. It was about the size of a rat, with a sleek, segmented body and small, toothy mouth that opened and closed rapidly. Its skin shimmered slightly in the dim light, giving it an alien appearance.

"What the..." Dove whispered, her voice trailing off as her brain struggled to make sense of the creature.

Dustin's face lit up with excitement. "This is incredible! It's like... some kind of undiscovered species!" His hands twitched with the urge to scoop it up, but he hesitated, clearly aware that touching it might not be the best idea. "We have to keep it."

"Keep it?" Dove echoed, her eyes wide with disbelief. "Dustin, we don't even know what this thing is."

"It's harmless," Dustin insisted, though his voice carried more excitement than certainty. "I'll take care of it. I'll keep it in Yertle's tank."

Dove glanced at the creature again, her gut instinct screaming that this was a bad idea. But Dustin's eyes were shining with excitement, and she knew he wouldn't be talked out of it.

"Okay, fine," she said, sighing. "But we're not touching it. Grab your ghost trap."

Dustin's eyes lit up even more. "Brilliant!" He dashed inside, returning moments later with the plastic ghost trap from his Halloweencostume. Carefully, the two of them managed to coax the creature into the trap, and Dustin snapped the lid shut.

"Gotcha," Dustin said triumphantly, holding up the trap like a trophy.

Dove just shook her head, still unsure about the whole thing. "Let's get it inside before Mom sees us."

As they carefully slipped into the house, trying their best to appear casual, the soft glow of the TV flickered from the living room. Mrs. Henderson was sitting in her favorite armchair, her feet propped up on the ottoman, and her hand lazily stroking the family cat, Mews, who lay sprawled across her lap, purring softly. The sound of an old sitcom laugh track filled the room as her gaze stayed fixed on the television.

Without turning around, she called out, "Dusty! Dovey! How was it?"

Dove and Dustin froze in place, eyes wide, the ghost trap held firmly between them.

"How was what?" they both asked at the same time, their voices an octave higher than usual.

Mrs. Henderson sighed, still not looking away from the TV. "The greatest night of the year, of course," she said with a little more enthusiasm.

Dove felt her heart skip a beat. "Oh yeah. It was. It was, uh—" Dove stammered, looking for the right word.

"Tubular," Dustin finished confidently, his voice cracking a little as he grinned nervously. His eyes darted toward the ghost trap, which they were desperately trying to keep out of view.

Mrs. Henderson finally tore her eyes away from the TV, her brow furrowing as she looked at them. "What's wrong with you?"

Dove felt her pulse quicken as she tried to stay composed, glancing at Dustin for help.

"Nothing," they both answered simultaneously, trying their hardest to sound nonchalant.

Mrs. Henderson narrowed her eyes. "Did something happen?" she asked, her attention now fully on them, though her hand continued to stroke Mews absentmindedly.

"No. What? No," Dustin blurted, his voice a little too eager.

Dove nodded quickly. "Just ready to go to bed," she added, hoping that would be enough to satisfy their mom and end the conversation.

"Oh, Dusty, are you constipated again?" she asked innocently, her voice filled with genuine concern.

Dove nearly choked trying to suppress a laugh as Dustin's face flushed red in embarrassment.

"No, Mom!" Dustin groaned, clearly mortified.

"Well, you two are acting weird," Mrs. Henderson commented, eyeing them both suspiciously.

"No, we're not," they said in perfect unison again, their voices strained with forced innocence.

Before they could say anything else, a loud bang came from inside the ghost trap, and both siblings jumped, their eyes wide with panic. "Woah!" Dustin exclaimed, his voice cracking as his hands fumbled to steady the trap.

Mews hissed, arching his back in alarm as his fur stood on end, glaring at the mysterious box that Dustin was clutching.

Dove and Dustin both laughed nervously, the sound high-pitched and strained as they tried to play it off. "Awesome, right? Yeah. I rigged the trap with, uh—" Dustin stammered, trying to think of a quick excuse.

"A motor," Dove chimed in helpfully, nodding along like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

"Yeah, a motor! To make it look like I caught a ghost," Dustin added quickly, his grin wide and exaggerated as if it would help sell the story.

Mrs. Henderson finally smiled, chuckling along as if it were the most charming thing Dustin had ever said.

"Just like the movie," Dove nodded in agreement, feeling her heartbeat slow down slightly as her mom let out a genuine laugh.

The trap gave another shudder, the rattling even more intense this time, and Dove nudged Dustin with her elbow, urging him to move along before things got worse. "Funny. Look at that," Dustin added, his voice rising as the siblings shared a nervous glance.

"Alright, well, we are just pooped," Dove said quickly, trying to steer the conversation away from the increasingly restless creature inside the trap. "So we are going to go to bed. And I have a test tomorrow and really need my sleep, so don't come down the hallway tonight, okay?"

Mrs. Henderson waved them off, returning her focus to the TV as she continued to absentmindedly stroke Mews. "Okay, Dovey. Goodnight, babies."

"Night, Mom," they both said as they shuffled toward the stairs, moving as quickly as they could without making too much noise.

Once they were safely upstairs, they exchanged a relieved glance, their hearts still racing from the close call. Dustin clutched the ghost trap even tighter as they hurried into his room, eager to get Dart into the safety of Yertle's tank before anything else could go wrong.

As soon as they slipped into Dustin's room, Dove slid the door closed behind them and quietly turned the lock with a soft click. She pressed her back against the door, her breath shallow from the adrenaline of sneaking around the house. The house was quiet, but the noise from the creature moments ago still echoed in her ears.

"I told you to keep that thing quiet," Dove whisper-yelled, her frustration barely contained as she glared at her brother.

Dustin, already halfway across the room, shot her an exasperated look. "I tried, but he didn't understand what I said becausehe's a slug!" he whisper-yelled back, as if it were the most obvious explanation in the world. He hurried toward the glass enclosure where his pet turtle had lived for months. He paused for a moment, glancing down at Yertle, who blinked up at him lazily from his little patch of artificial grass.

"Sorry, Yertle," Dustin said softly, lifting the turtle out of the enclosure with care. He cradled Yertle in his hands for a moment before gently setting him down on the floor beside the tank. "Temporary eviction, buddy." Yertle blinked up at him again, seeming unbothered by the sudden relocation.

With the tank now empty, Dustin moved quickly. He opened the ghost trap and carefully tipped it toward the enclosure. The creature inside wriggled and squirmed, its slimy body sliding out and landing with a soft thud against the bottom of the tank. It slithered awkwardly for a moment, adjusting to its new surroundings, its stumpy legs pressing against the glass.

Dove, her curiosity piqued despite her earlier frustration, moved closer to the tank, her eyes narrowing as she studied the creature.

It had a strange, fat body that tapered off into a long, thin tail. Its pale skin gleamed in the dim light, and it had tiny, stumpy front legs that seemed too small for its size. Dove squinted, trying to find its eyes, but there were none—just a smooth, eyeless head that looked oddly unsettling.

Dustin tilted his head as he stared down at the slug-like creature, his face filled with a mix of awe and excitement. "What are you, little guy?" he whispered, almost reverently.

"And what were you doing in our trash?" Dove added, her voice a little softer now, as if speaking any louder might scare the creature.

The creature squirmed again, making a soft slurping sound as it moved around the tank, nosing at the edges as though testing its new environment. It seemed restless, but not aggressive—at least, not yet.

"I wonder if he's hungry," Dustin mused, his eyes lighting up with an idea.

Dove raised an eyebrow. "What do you think it eats?" she asked, her arms crossed as she watched her brother dump his entire candy haul onto the bed.

Dustin rifled through the pile of candy wrappers until he triumphantly held up a Three Musketeers bar. "Nougat is the answer to every question," he said with a grin, unwrapping the chocolate bar and breaking off a few small pieces.

Dove snorted, shaking her head. "I don't think nougat is the answer to this question," she remarked, her skepticism clear. But Dustin, ever confident, dropped the small pieces of nougat into the tank.

The creature froze for a moment, its head twitching as if sensing the treat nearby. But instead of going for the candy, it darted under Yertle's old log, hiding itself from the light of the tank's bulb.

Dove reached up and flipped the tank's light off, leaving the room dimly lit by the bedside lamp. Almost immediately, the creature emerged from its hiding spot, cautiously approaching the nougat. Within seconds, it began to devour the pieces, its small, toothy mouth chomping away with surprising speed.

Dove raised an eyebrow, impressed. "I stand corrected," she said quietly, watching the creature with a newfound sense of fascination.

Dustin grinned widely, his excitement bubbling over as he leaned down closer to the tank. "You're pretty cute, you know that?" he said as the creature continued munching away at the nougat. "I'm glad I found you." He glanced down at the candy wrapper still in his hand, his eyes lighting up with an idea. "D'Artagnan," he said softly, more to himself than anyone else.

Dove looked up at him, a small smile tugging at her lips. "Like from the book," she said, catching the reference.

Dustin nodded, clearly proud of his choice. "Yeah. D'Artagnan. Dart for short."

The creature, as if in response to its new name, squirmed happily in the tank, clearly enjoying the candy.

Dove's smile faded slightly as she leaned back, her curiosity giving way to a more serious thought. "We need to find out what Dart is," she said, her voice more serious now. "If it's a reptile, or an amphibian, or some kind of new species."

Dustin didn't miss a beat. He pointed toward his bookshelf, where several old science books were stacked. "You take amphibians. I'll take reptiles," he said, already moving toward the shelf.

Dove grabbed a thick book from the shelf and sat on the floor, flipping through the pages, her eyes scanning for anything that even remotely resembled Dart. Dustin did the same, both of them sitting cross-legged on the floor, the creature happily munching away in the tank beside them.

For the next hour, the siblings pored over their books, comparing notes, searching for anything that might give them a clue about Dart's origin. But no matter how many pages they turned or species they read about, nothing quite matched the strange, eyeless slug that now sat in Yertle's old tank.

Eventually, exhaustion began to creep in. Dove yawned, rubbing her eyes as she closed her book. Dustin's head had already started to droop, his eyes blinking slowly as he fought to stay awake. As they both drifted off to sleep, the last thing Dove saw was Dart curling up under Yertle's log, his tiny body settling in for the didn't have any answers yet, but Dart's presence lingered in the room, a reminder that some discoveries bring more questions than they solve.