Cold static whispered through his ears, the throb of blood pulsing over his brain making every other moment half-muted in his ears. Danny's soft footsteps pressed into the crackling carpet, the rasping breath of the creature slowly approaching.
Will couldn't tell exactly what was going on, but he knew they were in the same room, and Danny had shuffled close enough to the cupboard that he blocked out the sliver of dim light peeking into his hiding space from between the doors.
"Hey there, ugly." The monster creaked back warningly at Danny's low voice, the hiss slithering down Will's spine like a cold finger.
"How about we take this outside?"
A floorboard creaked, and the cupboard shifted just slightly when Danny bumped against it.
"No? Alright, suit yourself."
Something sharp and electric pierced through the haze, setting Will's teeth on edge like the scrape of metal on a glass plate. He flinched, and the scream of the creature only worsened the full-body twitch.
He heard Danny bark a half-aborted word, and the wet slap of something fleshy striking something else. Heavy thumps of footsteps retreated, and the cold chitter followed until the back door slapped against the side of the house, then again into its frame.
Will held himself tightly curled in the dark, waiting.
Breathing.
He couldn't hear anything, but that didn't really mean anything, did it?
Some small part of him urged to get up - to find somewhere safer than a rickety old table that had seen better days. He listened hard, but could hear nothing. Not even the wind in branches was audible past his forcefully soft breaths. Will swallowed, raising his hand delicately and carefully - carefully! - pushing the cupboard door open.
Just a crack.
Just enough to peer around the living room and listen hard to the complete lack of sound. Alright.
He crept out, hands shaking more than he'd be proud to admit, and edged across the empty space until he he could get into the hallway. He flicked the light switch without even thinking, and a sound-feel sort of 'pop' bounced through the back of his head. He frowned, flipping the light down and up again.
The pop was louder, and skipped along the wires like echoes in a dark cave.
Will wandered down the hall, brushing his fingers over the lamp and feeling it 'pop' as well. Something…. Something strange pulled him toward his room. Some spot of warmth, or movement in the air. He looked around, swatting at some lacy spider webs hanging from the ceiling as he brushed his fingers over a lamp to feel-hear the little 'pop' once more. His tape player popped and 'hummed' if he could call it such a thing. There was this sort of… energy, sizzling on the edges of his senses. Like the careful reach to cup a flying firefly without hurting it, he could almost keep the sparks alive by thinking about them.
Still, the feeling of the room persisted.
What was…? There!
A spot on the wall seemed to glow faintly orange, almost… breathing. The cobwebs and delicate membranes around it wavered with each slow inhale and exhale. Through it, he could almost hear-
"Will?"
Will clenched his fists, looking anxiously at the door, at his window, then back at the strange spot on the decaying wall. He flexed his fingers, sidling up toward it and tentatively hovering his hand over the strange spot. It was… noticeably warmer, there. He could almost smell cheap detergent and his mom's perfume, or maybe he could actually smell it.
"Will?" His mom's voice again, he knew he wasn't imagining it!
Will's fingers twitched slightly, and then he pushed forward, fingers splayed against the strange give of something that should have been solid. Membranes stretching with horrible fleshy twanging noises, and the slow increase in heat before-
A scream split the air, and Will yanked his hand back, curling it like lightning to his chest and stumbling over himself to dive for the closet. Footsteps were faint, but audible as they fled. What just- What had happened?
He curled in the wet darkness of the closet, flexing the fingers that, for a moment, had been warm again. He hesitated several times, ears still straining for evidence that it hadn't been an elaborate trick - that whoever had screamed really wasn't attracting the monster.
When nothing immediately jumped out at him, Will carefully stood again. He didn't even have to touch his tape player to flick the 'spark' alive again, and the lamp seemed just as happy to pop back to life. The room was still dark. Still terrifying, but… with the life humming through it in a weird, distant way, it also felt…
A bit like safety. A bit like home.
Will listened to the faint breathing of the wall, keeping the sparks alive just for the heck of it for several more minutes, before a deep sort of exhaustion started pulling at him. The passage of time felt so unreal, and he didn't really notice as the cold, shivery feeling started to return. Numbness creeping up his fingertips, breaths starting to appear in serrated gasps.
He finally let go of the warmth, the spark of life in his electronics. He crawled back into the closet, closing the doors and tucking himself into a corner in a frail attempt to warm up and, maybe, get some more sleep. He still had to wait for Danny to come back. Still needed that gun, right?
Where had he gone, anyway?
His breaths started to even out and without realizing, Will had fallen asleep.
"Will? Oh Will, sweetheart, wake up."
His mom's voice was warm, the touch on his cheek comforting. He could see his brother leaning against his doorframe, a small smile half-hidden by shadows. Warm lights blanketed his room in a loving glow, his mom's smile practically angelic, dark curls highlighted in bronze and gold.
"It's Christmas..."
He pushed himself upright, a yawn threatening the muscles of his jaw as he tried to pull himself out of the soft, warm cocoon of blankets still beckoning him toward sleep. His mom stood, stepping to the side as he kicked away his blankets and slid to the floor.
The carpet sank plush under his toes, soft in a way he didn't recall it ever being. The wallpaper seemed fresh and perfect, the golden glow of the hallway perfectly devoid of any pools of shadow that their lamps normally lent.
Through the window, he saw the morning sun cast a pale echo of light over rotting vines and decayed trees sprawled over their driveway. A fine web of spider silk fluttered in a nonexistent breeze, and a dark shape crept through the fog.
It was alright, though.
It was Christmas.
Some half-aware part of his brain knew it was a dream, but the smell of nutmeg and warm vanilla beat out the smell of rot and fear sweat any day. He trailed his fingers over a pine tree, watching absently as it shed needles into the soft carpet.
"Don't you want to open your presents?" He smiled up at his brother, accepting the small package and carefully picking at the tape. He laughed when Jonathan bumped their shoulders together, obediently tearing the newspaper open. He opened the box, and plucked the cassette from the top.
He flipped it over, the letters swimming in his vision, but he knew what they said. The Clash. Judas Priest, Foreigner. The mix tape his brother had made for him. He turned to ask if he'd extended the list, but the tape changed in his hand. He blinked down at the cold plastic sitting in his palm, the glint of metal and a harsh chemical smell overwhelming the smell of christmas.
"Will?" His mom's voice was soft, worried in his ear.
When he looked up, Jonathan was gone. The trappings of christmas were gone. The golden glow was fading fast, wood and wallpaper warping under crawling vines that sprawled and dug into any surface it could reach. Green fluid leaked between his fingers, oozing out from the box cutter in his hands. A too-familiar rattle-hiss crawled past the living room's window pane.
A speck of green dripped to the floor.
A speck of something dripped onto his cheek. Warm.
He looked up.
He saw-
Will jerked with a gasp, the darkness of the cupboard still surrounding him, the chemical smell of Danny's blood still sharp. A faint spot of glow caught his eye, and Will twisted carefully to peer at his shoulder. Green smeared in a rough handprint across the back of his jacket, and he tried to blame his strange dream on that.
The heart throbbing in his throat would beg to disagree.
He ruffled his hair, feeling marginally better but still awfully cold. Danny had helped by bringing out a fire, right? With… a wire and a battery. He lit some candles.
Oh, but the smell would attract the creatures, wouldn't it?
His stomach twisted strangely, and with a pang Will realized it was probably hunger. He stood up as quietly as he could in the dark space, cracking his closet door open. He edged out, eyeing the sudden plethora of lamps all over his room. What on earth…?
Realization suddenly sparked.
His mom.
That's who screamed.
That's who said his name.
He slid back against the edge of his closet, staring up at the lamps with sightless eyes. This wasn't…
He wanted to laugh, or- cry, or something. Danny had been telling the truth. The world wasn't this awful place, it was just… somewhere else. Some other dimension, and his real dimension was fine. He could hear them - could feel the warmth of it, through the strange wall.
There was still hope.