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.
Just as she turned to open the front door, a faint rustling sound came from the side of the garage, near the trash cans. She froze, her heart skipping a beat before she rolled her eyes at herself.
"Dustin?" she called softly, thinking maybe her little brother was trying to scare her, but there was no answer.
She took a hesitant step toward the cans, squinting through the dim light from the porch. Just as she was about to take another step, the front door swung open, and Dustin stood there grinning, clutching two full pillowcases of candy.
Dove yelped, clutching her chest as she nearly jumped out of her skin. Dustin's grin widened, obviously pleased with himself. "Did I scare you?" he teased, leaning against the doorframe with a smug look. But when Dustin noticed the serious look on her face, his smirk faltered. "What happened?" he asked, concern creeping into his voice.
Dove took a steadying breath, nodding toward the side of the garage. "There's.. something in the trash can. Must be a raccoon or something.." She trailed off as, almost on cue, the trash can rattled again. This time, a sharp, guttural chirp sounded from inside.
Dustin's eyes widened, a mix of curiosity and excitement flashing across his face. "Whoa," he whispered, dropping his candy bags on the porch and stepping forward, his gaze fixed on the rattling can. "Did you hear that?" He looked up at her, his eyes bright with excitement. "I don't think it's a raccoon."
Dove took a step back, glancing between her brother and the can, unsure if she should be excited or worried. "Let's just go inside, okay? I've had enough weirdness for one night."
But Dustin was already moving toward the trash can, his curiosity overriding any caution. He reached it in a few steps, ignoring her hesitant protests as he gripped the lid. "Just one peek," he whispered, a mischievous grin spreading across his face.
"Dustin.." Dove warned, feeling a mix of dread and anticipation knotting in her stomach. But he had already lifted the lid.
As he peeked inside, his face went from surprise to pure delight. "Holy shit," he whispered, looking back at her with wide eyes, his voice trembling with excitement. "Dove.. you gotta see this."
Dove hesitated, every instinct telling her to pull him away and close the lid on whatever was lurking inside. But her curiosity won out, and she stepped forward cautiously, peering into the trash can.
Inside, nestled among crumpled wrappers and discarded cans, was a small creature, 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.
Dove's breath hitched, her heart racing as she leaned in to get a closer look. "What is that?" she whispered, a thrill of fear and wonder creeping up her spine.
Dustin's grin widened, a mischievous gleam in his eyes. "I have no idea," he said, barely containing his excitement. "Can we keep it?"
"Keep it?" Dove echoed, her eyes wide with disbelief. "Dustin, we don't even know what this thing is."
"Oh, come on!" Dustin protested, looking back down at the strange creature in awe. "This could be some kind of new species! We can name it something cool!"
"We shouldn't be naming it." Dove insisted. "We should be calling someone. The DNR, or the EPA, maybe. They'd know what to do with something like this."
Dustin made a face, waving her concerns away. "By the time they get here, it could be gone. Either way, we have to bring it inside. Just for tonight, until we figure out what it is." He reached down, hands outstretched toward the creature.
Dove grabbed his arm, her expression alarmed. "Are you crazy? You can't just touch it."
Dustin rolled his eyes but stopped, glancing between her and the creature with a determined look. "Fine. But if we're going to figure out what it is, we have to at least take it out of the trash can. It's not going to hurt us, Dove. Look at it."
Reluctantly, she looked at the small creature again, and it chirped softly, tilting its head as if studying them both. Dustin's eyes lit up with a sudden idea, and without a word, he dashed inside the house, leaving Dove standing there with the creature chirping softly in the trash can. A moment later, he returned, grinning triumphantly as he held up the ghost trap from his Halloween costume.
Carefully, Dove picked up a leaf from the ground, holding it out toward the creature with the kind of delicate precision one might use to scrape gum off the bottom of a shoe—arm outstretched, fingers barely holding onto the edge of the leaf, her face twisted in concentration. She carefully prodded the creature, avoiding any direct contact, her movements cautious and hesitant.
The creature sniffed at the leaf, and Dove flinched slightly, shifting her grip as she nudged it again, coaxing it forward with small, jerky motions. She kept her other hand hovering, ready to pull back at the slightest sign of danger. Bit by bit, she guided it into the open trap, her eyes narrowing as she pushed the last inch, mentally willing it to go inside without any surprises. As the creature finally went inside the trap, Dustin let out a little cheer, quickly closing the lid to keep it secure. They exchanged a look, a mix of excitement and disbelief sparking between them.
"Okay," Dove said, catching her breath. "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 two?"
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 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 hall, moving as quickly as they could without making too much noise.
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.
"I told you to keep that thing quiet," Dove whisper-yelled, her frustration barely contained as she glared at her brother.
Dustin set the ghost trap down on his desk, clearing away a few stray books and action figures to make space. "I tried, but he didn't understand what I said because he'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.
They both leaned in, staring at the creature as if it was some kind of precious artifact.
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. "I bet this'll do the trick," he said, a mischievous grin spreading across his face as he tore open the wrapper.
Dove snorted, crossing her arms tighter. "Seriously, Dustin? There's no way that thing is going to eat your Halloween candy."
Undeterred, Dustin tore off a small piece of the candy and dropped it into the tank, where the creature cautiously approached the piece of candy. It stepped into the light of the heat lamp, only to flinch and scurry back into the shadows, letting out a soft, distressed chirp. Dove watched, her brow furrowing in curiosity. Without a word, she reached up and clicked off the lamp, casting the tank in dim shadows.
Almost instantly, the creature reemerged, inching forward until it reached the candy. It sniffed at the nougat again before nibbling, its tiny teeth tearing into the candy with unexpected enthusiasm.
Dustin shot her a triumphant look. "Nougat. Universal language."
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 we 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 night.