Instinct

 Patrick lay awake in bed, somewhat restless but none other than usual. Not much different from any night at his Grandmother’s house. For the weekend, his parents decided to take him and his sister, Leigha, out of downtown and had them stay there in the woods of Connecticut. His father said he would be back to pick them up tomorrow, Sunday at 6 am.

Few days had passed since the autumn became noticeably cold. The leaves had already fallen from the trees into a red and yellow blend. The ground had been covered with a deciduous pattern. The familiar sound of crunching could be heard when walking upon them. The faint but occasional leaf would audibly touch the ground. These woods bared quite a silence as they were far from the city. The only neighbors, the Trembles, lived not much nearer than a half mile down the road. A long twist and turn of roads became the only way to reach the nearest highway. Long story short, the house rested in the middle of nowhere. But the scenery proved quite serene.

The house sat two stories tall but it still didn’t feel any larger inside. It contained a somewhat tight interior leaving little room for large company. The house had aged just like the woman living in it. The kids slept in the same room separated by twin beds. The 2nd floor housed two bedrooms, a bathroom and another room which was used for storage. A rusty old attic was accessible via a ceiling trapdoor. God knows how long it has been since somebody opened it or if somebody even remembered it existed.

Patrick lay tossing and turning. He looked over to his sister. She was asleep, or seemed to be asleep, already getting more rest than him. Her long blonde hair flowed over the blanket she wrapped herself in. His grandmother must have been downstairs or in her room sleeping. He turned on his right glancing at the old clock on the desk. Trying to interpret it the best he could in the darkness, it read 10:34pm. He turned towards the ceiling and closed his eyes. Time was unsure of as he gradually started to drift. The wind startled his sleep, blowing a cluster of leaves at seemingly unsynchronized intervals.

The house creaked everywhere. The blackness of the night covered nearly every crevice of the interior. The only audible sound was the wind, whistling even howling at times. Though the creepiness of the woods still lingered, the night was nothing out of the ordinary. Still yet, Patrick always found it hard to accommodate to.

That’s when he heard the leaves pick up speed at odd intervals. One moment, they were tranquil, another not so much. But the strangest thing about the sound was how it traversed around the bedroom window and faded away. It traveled around the adjacent corner. The house had blocked the wind’s heavy draft.

Eventually, he grew thirsty and decided on making a trip downstairs for a glass of water. He stepped down the creaky stairs keeping hold onto the loose wooden bannister. Guiding the way with outstretched arms to the kitchen, he stepped through the darkened house with only the moonlight shining through the windows as the only source of light. He retrieved a glass from the kitchen and began filling it up with water from the sink. Surprisingly, the tap water didn’t taste regrettable. As the water rushed into the glass, he heard a sound that seemed like a bump on the far end of the wall. He stopped the water flow from the sink and looked. As far as he could see in the dark, only cabinets and a closet stuck out. He listened wondering if it would sound again. A moment later, he turned the tap back on. As he raised the glass to quench his thirst, the wall bumped again underneath the sound of his gulping, closer and slightly louder. He stopped again to listen. Odd sounds were a commonality in the house, but they never ceased his curiosity. After drinking the rest of the glass, he began to fill it back up to take back to his room.

Suddenly, something brushed against the kitchen window. He was unsure if he had only gotten a glimpse of the visual, but this time, he was sure he heard something. The sound originating from the wind remained an impossible thought. Instantly, the feeling of dread and suspicion rose upon him. He couldn’t help but to remain frightened and cautious. He stood by the sink listening patiently for a near 45 seconds until the pushing of leaves and the sound of scuffling came from the nearby glass sliding door. The see-thru door must have stood a mere 10 feet from the kitchen counter. Instantly following the sounds, a small shadow momentarily obstructed the moonlight streaming through the door.

Playing on his suspicions was the norm in this house. Something always ended up tweaking his imaginations. He remembered one night, years ago, it had been a tree branch falling on the roof. At the time he was much younger. He remembered jumping off the bed, leaping across the hall, and jumping underneath his grandmas covers nearly all in one motion. He did not come out until his parents arrived to pick him up the next day. Another night, a trash can had fumbled over awakening his slumber. Turned out to be a raccoon, but at the time, Patrick didn’t know. Both him and Leigha repeated the same reaction as the branch incident. He thought he could brace those moments now with age but this moment felt different.

He quickly looked outside at the trees. The leaves on the ground rustled irregularly. They broke synchronization with the wind. A faint brush, this time near the windowsill. He froze, making sure he wasn’t playing into his own mind games.

The brushing continued towards the glass door. A shadow morphed onto the moonlit floor. He looked up at the door. A black figure covered the glass.

Struck with instinct, Patrick darted under the countertop and crouched. No part of him wanted to look over. He remained completely still, but to him, his heartbeat seemed loud enough that it could be heard from anywhere in the room. He steadily leaned over the side, exposing as little of himself as he could. The pitch black silhouette stood at the glass door. A very large figure, it darkened most of the room brushing against the door.

This time, his suspicions were real. Patrick sat there petrified. He couldn’t move. No matter how hard he thought about it, he couldn’t budge. And what if he could move? Where would he go? What would he do? Paranoia stemmed from the lack of options.

Like a switch, he instantly thought. The phone! She has a phone! Despite the ancient setting, he remembered his parents calling his grandma asking about staying over for the weekend. However, though he remembered such a crucial idea, there’s little chance the police would arrive on time. Whoever was outside had a large enough window of opportunity to break in.

It was his only chance. He snatched the receiver and dialed 911 never taking his eyes off the door. The dial tone miraculously sounded. A mere couple seconds seemed like an eternity. The figure began to move against the glass. The door produced a mixture of cracking and creaking noises. They were trying to get in.

Finally an operator picked up.

“911 what is your emergency?” It was a female voice. Just hearing her wavered the tension

“Something’s outside of my house! I… I think they’re trying to get in!” Patrick whispered.

“Okay sir I’m going to send an officer right away…”

“God please hurry as fast as you can”. Patrick tried not to interrupt, but he couldn’t control himself.

“Just try to keep calm sir. Can you tell me your address?”

Address? Of all things why? Why didn’t he know? Of course the one piece of information that would save him would be nonexistent to him. He was only 12. Why would he know? His mind completely drew a blank. He could not think. He could not function. All he could do was let out the best possible response.

“My address?... I… I don’t know”. The door continued to creak and crack. The old materials of the building had taken a toll over the decades. The door was God knows how old. Even if the intruder couldn’t unlock it, it would take a seemingly minimal amount of strain to render it useless. P

“Sir, it’s okay. We are attempting to trace the line, or contact an officer in your vicinity.” Those words alone were enough to establish some relief in him no matter how minimal. “Can you tell me the area where you are located?”

He considered running up to his grandmas room to wake her up and ask her the address in case of a failsafe.

“Cumru township! I’m in cumru township deep in the woods!” He searched for papers or anything that would have an address on it.

“Okay great. Just stay calm. Where are you located in your house? Can you go somewhere safe, like a closet or a room?” The figure dispersed away from the glass.

“I can’t, I have a cord on the phone”. He felt glad the figure moved away from the door but that also meant he had no bearings on where it went. It could be anywhere outside at this point. It could be looking at him through the window on the side. It could be staring through the small high window on the front door.

“Okay stay with me, try and make sure you know where the intruder is. If he tries to come in, you need to run upstairs and lock the door. Do not come out until you hear an officer address you, understand?”

“Yes... yes I do”. He wanted to yell and alert everyone in the house but he’d rather not get caught by the intruder. Someone was scratching and rattling at the front doorknob.

“Did you find the address?”

That question alone caused Patrick to snap back into paranoia. In an instant, rationality had disappeared.

“Hold on, let me go wake grandma”

He put the receiver down and ran to the stairs. He was three steps up when a THUMP THUMP THUMP sounded at the door. He jumped and stumbled.

He looked down and noticed the couch. Grandma had fallen asleep on it right after turning the TV off. Her hearing had deteriorated over the years. He ran down and shook her awake. He responded with the first though that came to him.

“Grandma! Grandma someone’s outside!”

“Patrick, what’s wrong? Are you…?” She asked in her old voice.

“Grandma I need the address! The police are on the phone!”

“Go upstairs, I’ll talk to them. Lock the door and don’t make a sound!” She couldn’t speak too loudly but she kicked into her instincts faster than one would expect from an 86 year old woman.

Patrick sprinted upstairs, the floorboards’ hollowed creaking and echoing. He made it to the room and slammed it shut. Leigha woke up in a fright.

“Patrick?”

With rationality gone, the first thought in his mind escaped out his mouth.

“There’s a man outside.”

Instantly, under the dim light, Leigha’s eyes started to well up. Her expression changed from startled to grimly afraid.

“Wh… what?” She whispered.

Patrick felt a deep feeling of concern and regret but panic and distress overwhelmed it.

“Someone’s outside trying to get in! I called the police and they’re coming! It’s okay just stay in here”

Consequently, Leigha began to cry. Her head fell into her hands as she started sobbing. Patrick offered a hand to calm her down. He knew that scaring her was a terrible idea but only realized a second too late. He heard a voice downstairs. Someone was raising their voice.

It was grandma. She must have still been on the phone. Patrick looked out the bedroom windows to see if the figure was still stalking the house. He saw nothing but leaves and trees. It was a terrible idea, but he decided to sneak downstairs to see if she was okay. Leigha begged him not to go, but he didn’t listen. He made his way across the hall and started down the stairs. Halfway down, an ear piercing shriek stopped him in his tracks. He felt the shock again. His skin tingled and went numb. This time it was not enough to prevent him from carefully moving down. He leaned over the bannister.

There, outside the door, stood a very large figure obstructing almost every stream of light from the outside. Once a second had passed, Patrick realized that the potential intruder was not human. It was too large to mimic even a tall strong man. It cast a complete shadow darkening the interior.

More cracks and a snap, it was pushing on the door with great force. The fact that it could give way anytime with ease sent a shiver down his spine. Grandma had given her last good breath in her scream. She was nearly suffocating. The glass cracked, the frame snapped and split.

The door gave way. With it, came a deafening crash. Glass shattered into millions of pieces, wood fractured into splinters, the frame useless as a rubber band. Next, a boom that shook the entire house. Quickly the intruding massive figure regained its balance.

He was looking straight into the face of a creature. A muscular being covered in fur. Massive enough to cover the majority of the room, but small enough to fit into the hallway.

A distorted murmur echoed through the room. Heavy breaths flared through deep nostrils. A filthy stench arose causing Patrick’s nose to crinkle. The smell of decaying flesh and animal feces filled the room.

The creature turned to the person closest. It snarled, drooling long streams of saliva. Its nostrils flared hot breath. Its right eye glowed as it looked directly at her. Visible knife sized canines displayed. Grandma was petrified. Instinct willed her not to move a muscle. She smelled its awful breath and filth ridden stench. If the creature broke through the door to get inside, it sought bloodthirst. Its keen sense of smell revealed the inhabitants inside. Judging from its ability to break in as quickly as it did, the beast was not unintelligent by any means.

The creature refused to instinctively hesitate as a cat or dog would. It trotted towards grandma. One more scream was all it took for it to pick up its speed and it slammed into her hitting the wall. She crumpled to the floor in an instant.

Leigha heard all the commotion from the upstairs. She refused to remove her hands from her head. Her fingertips dug into her hair unable to let go. Bashing, wood reducing to twigs, banging against the wall, a medley of horrified screaming. She felt helpless. Horrified screaming turned into cries of agony. Screams of pain. Screams like she never heard before. She heard steps. Rapid hollowed echoes stormed closer. The doorknob budged first, then jiggled violently.

Patrick rattled the knob as if by some sheer luck, it would fall off and the door would magically open.

“Open the door!!” Tears already streaming down his face. Adrenaline rushing through his body.

Leigha couldn’t move. Her body told her if she opened up that door, whatever was downstairs would rush up instantly and reach the room in no time. She wanted to move. She wanted to get up as fast as her legs would let her but she couldn’t feel them.

“Please open!! Please!!!” Patrick slammed his fist on the door, completely ignorant to the possibility of alerting the beast.

Leigha heard underneath the floorboards the beast continue its rage. It had drawn itself into an occupied frenzy, too focused to suddenly rush upstairs. Her joints began to loosen. Blood rushed to her feet. She leapt out of bed and unlatched the lock. The door swung open nearly hitting her. Patrick slammed it shut almost as fast as it had opened. He turned the lock hearing a satisfying click.

The banging continued for what seemed like an eternity eventually turning into dragging. The screaming faded and the creature growled. It moaned as it dragged the body across the floor. Patrick and Leigha couldn’t bear to listen for one moment. They covered their ears. Their sobs drowned out most of the chaos but not entirely. The monster was vicious. Grandma was gone. All they could do was wait and hope it left by some miracle.

The animal remained downstairs. It carried a subtle presence wherever it traveled but produced very little noise. The creature’s location was difficult to pinpoint because of such subtle silence. The children didn’t dare think about leaving.

Patrick glanced up at the clock. 1:32am it read. He attempted to think but his mind already begun playing tricks on him. One side told him that the cops were on their way. They would arrive, shoot the beast, and rescue them unfortunately leaving grandma behind. Another side told him the cops would not get there in time. They’d be dead before the police navigated the long drawn out roads in the forest. The deadliest of them all told him that nobody’s coming. Grandma did not give them the address in time. They could not trace the call. 6 hours. That is not nearly enough time for their parents to arrive. They had to rely on the beast not considering searching the upstairs for them during its hunt for flesh.

1:54am the clock read. Minutes became hours. Seconds slowed down. Patrick couldn’t bear to stand his anxiety any longer. He pressed his ear against the door. Leigha pleaded for him not to go outside. He heard nothing. He looked underneath the crack. He could see the storage room straight ahead. The bathroom to the right, the other bedroom a little further. No sound originated from downstairs but the silence did not convince him. Luckily the beast had not made it to the stairs. They would have creaked heavily from an animal of that magnitude.

A feint heavy breath huffed from downstairs. Several breaths. Patrick and Leigha fell silent. They didn’t dare to budge and risk the old floorboards giving them away.

But the creature’s sense of smell was keen. It would take more than silence to hide from it. The scent of human sweat lead to the 2nd floor. It climbed up on the staircase. The floorboards, as expected, creaked heavily. Audible snaps and breaks could be heard. The stairs seemed as if they were coming apart. The creature’s size seemed just enough to fit up the narrow walls but barely. Its fur scraped heavily against the walls. It struggled through producing forcible grunts.

By the time the creature made it to the top, the children sat in the furthest corner out of sight and away from the door. They smartly used the commotion to their advantage to mask their footsteps.

The creature stuck its nose in the crack beneath the door. It begun heavily sniffling just as before.

“This is it” Patrick thought. The monster undoubtedly possessed more than enough strength to knock down the old wooden door. While probably not right away, it would eventually make it through.

The monster sniffled, grunted, then turned out. It creaked away down the hall sniffing and touching the other doors. It stood up and pushed on the master bedroom door. Just like the downstairs glass sliding door, it cracked and contorted but it did not open. It abandoned the idea and began rummaging through the boxes, old antiques, anything in the storage. Breaking glass and paper ruffling could be heard. Could they escape out the window?

Patrick was thinking of any possible plans when Leigha finally spoke, very quietly.

“We could escape to the Trembles’ house.” She suggested.

“I don’t know,” Patrick said, in denial that any plan would work at the current moment. “He might notice and catch us leaving.”

“But it’s not that far if you cut through the forest.” She carried a constant look of deep concern. For a 10 year old, she was taking a life threatening predicament very well. Patrick refrained from using any words that may cause her to panic like “kill”, “die”, or “maul”. If they knew the Trembles well, they must own a rifle giving them a fighting chance in case they couldn’t call the police in time. Grandma had no guns. She lived in a peaceful area in the backwoods, never thinking one day there would be a savage animal the size of a van trying to break in.

Patrick hadn’t heard the beast in 15 minutes. Not even a creak. He snuck over to the door. He slowly inched his face to the crack. The view of the hall slowly came into place. Nothing. Not a peep. The beast was nowhere to be seen. Had he gone downstairs and they hadn’t noticed? Did it never leave the storage?

A hot breath of air blew into Patrick’s face sending him scooting back. A horrible stench of decaying flesh. A heavy jaw clapped rapidly at the crack. Scratches dragged up the door. Grunting sounds could be heard. The beast banged and pressed on the door. The door bent inward. It was sturdy but not enough to last forever. Leigha couldn’t contain herself any longer and began to scream in panic, holding her head. Patrick too was screaming. The beast knew they were inside. It had been waiting along the staircase the entire time for a reaction.

After a few minutes of banging, the creature miraculously gave up. Thankfully, it must have overestimated the strength of the door. However, it would not simply abandon its hunger. It was playing the waiting game.

2:16am the clock read. Patrick hoped the door would deter the creature from attempting to break through again. But deep down inside, he knew it wouldn’t give up. Its best chance of feeding resides in this room. Leigha felt very parched sweating from fear. They both urgently needed water. There must be a way to outsmart it. Many plans unfolded in his mind.

In a survival position, even the most desperate measures become rational. One may not think clearly, another may snap into action. When left with little paths toward survival, the absurd becomes likely. The unthinkable becomes possible. Things someone swore they would never do end up as a first thought.

“We could make a break for the attic while we trick it into going outside.” Leigha suggested.

“No no, it’s too risky. Even if we can fool it into going outside, it will still come back fast.” Said Patrick. He pondered if it could climb up the ladder and fit in that tight space. But judging from the strength and magnitude of it, ripping a bigger hole in the ceiling would be its first thought. And there’s no doubt it was more than capable of doing it.

“What if there was a way to trick it into working on one of the doors while we slipped out the window?” Patrick suggested. The plan seemed just as risky as the others but they were running out of time and options.

“How would that work?” Leigha asked puzzled, still frightened from the previous events.

“I think it can smell blood. I’m going to find a way to trick it into investigating the room buying us some time.”

“I’m thirsty…”

“I know… I’ll get you water don’t worry. We’ll be okay”. Patrick and she both knew they needed each other’s emotional support to survive.

Patrick ran his hand along the metal edge of one of the bed frames. It was quite dull until he reached the top corner. Before he decided to spark a bloodlust within the creature, he started tying the bed sheets together. Leigha got the hint and unmade her bed. Patrick grunted as he opened the stubborn window letting the chilly autumn breeze in. Leaves blew along and into the frame. Leigha tied the sheets to the bed and threw them out. Patrick walked to the closet, equipped with a significantly weaker door than the room’s. He opened it.

“You could wipe blood inside so it thinks we’re in there” Leigha said.

“Smart kid” Patrick thought. It would buy them extra time to run away. He thought they both wouldn’t think clearly under stress but survival instincts seemed to kickstart their critical thinking. He just hoped to God he picked the right choice. In reality, there was no right choice, just a 50/50 chance. It solely depended on multiple factors: The creature’s thought process, if they could stay silent, the creature’s capability of following them up into the attic, if the police arrive in time, if the police arrive at all, if their parents arrive in time. So many factors that would hopefully work in their favor.

The creature’s stomach grumbled. It had not been satisfied for several days to some weeks. An excruciating amount of time passed since its last meal. Soon, its need for blood would force it to answer the call of desperation. When its instinctive craving for flesh warded off the waiting game, nothing could stop it.

Patrick knew what he had to do. He ordered Leigha to begin climbing out. He pressed his palm against the top of the sharp edge and slid it. A sting at first quickly turned into a sharp slicing pain. He winced at the feeling. His palm trickled dark red blood. He walked to the closet spreading blood over old clothes, the wall, and underneath the door. He decided against leaving a trail to prolong the beast’s investigation.

Just as they predicted it to happen, the upstairs hall creaked. He quickly ripped the pillowcase into a rag and tied it around his hand.

The heavy snorts of breath returned.

The door nearly broke off of its hinges from the impact. The animal was going berserk. It began scratching the door and growling menacingly. Its thick fur brushed against the wood. The bolts on the top hinge had already stuck out. It was now or never. Leigha climbed out first, making it to the bottom quickly thanks to the adrenaline rush. Patrick followed but closed the window on the way out. The door split and wood fell from the top. He could see a long set of sharp dagger-sized claws wrap over it. It peeled apart the door. As soon as their feet met the ground, they ran as fast as their legs would let them. The woods provided little vision but the moonlight shone a subtle glow sufficient enough for them to guide themselves.

To their relief, they heard the destruction about the room from approximately 200 feet away. It searched ravenously for them and hadn’t realized they escaped out the window yet. It tore the closet inside and out. They sprinted through the dark woods, their feet crunched upon the autumn leaves and twigs. The oak trees stood tall and extended out sharp talon shaped branches whistling from the wind. The gust blew sharply in their faces slowing their speed. The house slowly faded into the nightly woodland abyss taking the sound with it.

A dim light appeared into view in midst of the trees. It must have been the Trembles. Just a little further and they’d be safe. The single story house came into view. They could see a dim light inside. They ran until they reached the small cracked driveway.

Their thoughts of a safe haven slowly faded. Leigha’s eyes welled up with tears. Patrick’s eyes began to blur as well.

The front door had been completely torn off. Only ripped screen door remained, broken and hanging. A dark red handprint smeared along the doorknob. Crimson blood streaked along the driveway into the woods. They instantly felt regret leaving their grandmas house.

“It’s okay,” Patrick tried to calm his weeping sister. “There’s water inside and a phone”

Leigha’s thirst overcame her fear and she ran inside. Patrick instantly regretted letting her rush inside first without seeing for himself because for all they knew, Mr or Mrs Trembles’ body (or what remained of them) could be inside. This time, to her luck, just a pile of trash and broken furniture strewed out on the floor.

The dim light source originated from the small kitchen light above the microwave. Scratches lined the old tan linoleum floor. The wood top counter’s old age complimented the destruction. The vacant house appeared creepy at night. The window shutters bumped against the frame from the gust, air rushing against wood. Glass shards laid on the floor. The trees whooshed beyond the broken glass. The air reeked of animal filth. The house resembled a crime scene.

As Leigha drank from the sink, Patrick frantically searched for the phone. He found the charging port but no receiver. It must have been knocked off during the struggle. It must be nearby. He looked in the living room. The creature had ripped the furniture to shreds. Cotton spread all over the floor. Visible giant claw marks slashed across the couches. The creature had been here for a long time. And he knew it would come back.

Underneath a table leg, Patrick saw the receiver. He swiftly picked it up. It was broken. The 5, 6, 7, 2, and 1 buttons popped out. The earpiece caved inward. Some blood stained the side. He hoped to God it still worked. After many struggles, he managed to dial 911. The earpiece fuzzed.

“God please let this work” he pleaded.

After an unsure number of tries, he faintly heard an operator. Just barely.

“Help!! It’s attacking us!” It was the only response he could think off initially.

“Who… attacking?” He spoke to a different operator than before.

“Did you send the police? They’re coming right?”

“We…….. call….. the police…….. to your location”

“What are you saying??? Send the police now!”

“Sir…. calm… can’t understand….”

This call was not going well…

Patrick looked out the kitchen window. Nothing but woodland expanse… except for the pair of pants laying outside. He focused his eyes. He was indeed looking at a pair of full jeans. The darkness covered the area above the waist. A shoe stuck out of the right leg but a pale bare foot stuck out of the other.

Leigha slowly handed Patrick a piece of paper. She held a look of innocent worry. Miraculously the paper contained the address to the house. Patrick fought the urge to hug her tightly. He mouthed the words “thank you” with his lips over and over again shaking the phone. He read the address to the operator.

“You… get out… immediately…” the operator lagged.

“We can’t…” he said sternly.

“Then you need to……….. The …. are coming…….…. closet”. He heard more feedback than speech.

He clutched the phone at his side. Leigha ran to find the best possible hiding spot. He looked outside the same kitchen window.

As he looked back, he spotted the pair of jeans again. But this time, the torso area wasn’t too dark to see. It was absent. He realized he was staring at the severed bottom half of one of the Trembles. He felt sick and vomited into the sink

Leigha looked at the doorframe of the master bedroom. Pieces of 2x4s hung by nails inside. Split pieces of wood spread across the carpet. Scratch marks peeled the frame nearly to splinters. The Trembles had failed to fortify themselves in from the massive beast. A queen sized bed stood in the middle. A cracked mirror hung on the opposite side. She spotted the closet to the left, surprisingly untouched. She opened it to find a long rack of hanging clothes and some bins. A hole in the wall appeared behind one of the bins. She reached in one of the bins to find anything of interest. Mostly more clothes and tools. Her hand touched a paper box. The contents shook as she took it out. She smiled with a sense of relief when she read the label on the box. “12 GA Shells” she read. She opened it to find a pile of red shotgun shells. They definitely owned a gun. The next question, where was it?

Patrick wiped his mouth with a towelette. He needed to hurry and hide immediately. He prayed the police were on their way and they’d show up soon. He glanced up at the clock. 3:45am. They grew fatigued and ran out of options.

“Patrick” Leigha called out.

He walked to the bedroom and Leigha greeted him holding a single-fire break barrel shotgun. Patrick nearly smiled, although still shaken by that horrible sight which caused him to vomit.

“Let’s go in that closet. There’s a hole in there” she suggested.

Outside a faint patter sounded in the distance. Are they here? Could it be the police? He ran out to the window in the next bedroom.

Patrick knew even before it came into view. That sound was not two legs running. It was four.

“Get inside the closet!” He yelled.

Leigha wasted no time diving into the closet. Patrick ran grabbing the shotgun. They closed the door as quietly as possible.

Immediately after, an angry growl ran alongside the house. The creature was back. It grunted picking up speed and smashed through the screen door with ease. It started its investigation through the kitchen, sniffing deep hot breaths.

“How did he find us?!” Leigha said with that same worried frightened look.

“It’s a smart creature. It has a very keen sense of smell and this is the first place it would check after Grandmas house.”

Patrick handed the gun to Leigha while he searched for the hole. Although she had never used a gun and had no knowledge on how they worked, she begun tweaking with it to figure out how to load it.

“Just have to put the bullets in,” she thought. Patrick peeled away at the weak thin wooden paneling. Dust escaped into the air making it hard to breathe. They didn’t dare cough or sneeze. Patrick used the now soaked bloody bandage on his hand to filter the dust. Leigha used a piece of clothing. No matter how hard he tried, tearing apart the wood silently was an impossible task. He grew tired and fatigued from the lack of sleep.

The scent of human flesh lead the creature into the room. It heavily smelled the floor leading up to the door. Patrick could hear the sniffing getting closer. The stench arose once again. They had seconds left. He needed to tear a hole just big enough to get through. It stuck its nose under the door and scratched underneath. It knew right away.

It climbed up on the door and pressed its massive weight into it. It had learned from its prior experience of breaking through weak wooden entrances and cracked the frame. The same dagger-sized claws ripped at the door much faster than the last. Patrick’s fatigue subsided just enough to widen the hole faster. Leigha panicked and dropped the shells all over the carpet. She placed one into the barrel. She could feel the wind of the daggers blowing inches away from her face. She snapped the barrel shut. By the time she looked up, half of the door was gone. But the broken door isn’t what caused her to freeze.

A bloodshot brown eye peered into the opening. The whites of its angry eye lined its pupils. She was face to face with the beast. It was ridden with peeling rotten flesh. Visible pieces of its skull could be seen. Blood clotted around whatever skin it had left. It wore matted brown fur above its eye.

Patrick looked behind him, but wished he didn’t. He too froze at the sight.

The sounds of splintering wood had stopped. Their hearing fell almost completely silent except for a faint ringing. The beast huffed another disgusting breath. It moved and stuck its snout into the opening.

Its snout was nearly completely barren of flesh. Bare bone stuck out of deteriorating skin like a steel frame breaking through concrete. Lacerations and stab marks lined its face. Its left eye stained red, caved in, damaged beyond repair. Two visible black holes appeared where its nose would have been. It gnashed two rows of razor sharp teeth, four canines the size of serrated steak knives overlapped its jawline. The teeth were yellow and stained reddish brown. Its gums were charcoal black.

The beast let out another rancid filthy breath. Leigha gagged but Patrick vomited again, this time all over himself. A low deep monstrous growl emerged from it. Its jaws opened and let out an ear piercing distorted scream. The scream was frightening. Like a madman shrieking in pain.

Leigha knew this is the moment. This is the perfect time to stop the creature and send it back to hell. She placed her index finger on the trigger, reinforcing it with her middle. It tightly indented into her fingertips. Her fingers wrapped around it like a snake. The solid wooden stock rested in her palm. She raised the barrel toward the frayed beastly skull. She hoped to God it would work. Without hesitation, she began to squeeze it.

Nothing happened. The trigger wouldn’t budge. Far too many fractions of seconds had passed. Her face disheartened with terror. Tears rolled down her cheeks. Her fingers cramped against the stubborn trigger. She quietly whimpered as her forearm tightened up.

Patrick looked down. He noticed a knob sticking out on top of the shotgun.

Five large knives soared into the opening.

Patrick reached over, flipping the knob down. The knob revealed a small red tab.

The burst knocked out both of their hearing. The force blew them to the back corner. Their ears rung and every sound turned to a near mute echo. The ground violently rumbled. Disorientation struck Patrick with uncertainty. He couldn’t decipher if he was dying or if the gun had found success. Leigha leaned against the wall panting, eyes wide in surprise. The blast disrupted their thought process momentarily.

Once they regained their wits, the rumbling became apparent. The beast’s head and arm no longer stuck into the enlarged hole in the door. They saw the opposite wall spattered with a dark brown mark.

Patrick’s hearing returned. The rumbling melded with a higher pitched groans of pain. He stood up to find the creature’s massive body slumped over, flailing wildly attempting to regain its balance. It kicked the bed aside with ease knocking off the wooden pegs. It collapsed onto the dresser causing wood and clothes to project outward, the mirror smashing upon its back. The creature turned.

Cracks visibly ran down its bones. Blood streamed down its snout and stained its teeth. The blast opened up a portion of its head revealing more of its skull. One of the lower canine teeth broke off during the blast. It reared its ugly rotten flesh ridden head once again and roared an even more distorted rage induced scream of pain.

Leigha glanced down to find the shotgun but Patrick had already grabbed it. He picked up a shell and attempted to slide it into the break-barrel, bumping it on the rim. It successfully entered the chamber with a satisfying *thick*. He snapped the barrel shut. The beast did not hesitate. It stumbled towards the hole ready to swipe its daggers at the right moment. Patrick raised the barrel. In a fraction of a second, he would blow the creature’s head in, disintegrating the brain causing an instant kill. The creature extended its right arm.

Patrick looked down, safety off, this was it. The creature’s reach was just out of range. He returned his gaze and pulled on the trigger.

Miss. The barrel had knocked aside a microsecond too early. Some buckshot tore off a clump of fur and peeled back a portion of its left cheek but caused no more damage. Patrick tried to regain control of the rifle but it slipped out of his grip. He glanced back up to see its arm, the left this time, extending straight towards his chest. The brief moment of struggle costed him dearly.

The creature struck its arm directly toward his torso. Patrick flinched for the impact.

Patrick lost his balance and fell back to the floor. His back slammed against the carpet. He felt no pain.

His hands scrambled to feel his chest. Three cuts ripped into his shirt but he felt intact skin. He brought his hands to eye level. No blood. Before he could process any relief, Leigha dragged him into the hole. She had pulled onto his waist with all her might just before the monster’s beastly claws slashed through the air, saving him. He was microseconds away from it penetrating his chest cavity.

Patrick stumbled into the makeshift hole he made earlier. To their luck, the space inside allowed enough room to slowly travel within the walls. The bed against the wall could provide them with extra cover. If the beast lost too much blood and attempted to destroy the bed, there’s a chance it would collapse from exhaustion.

They sidestepped into the pitch dark opening. Drywall and wooden framing lined the interior. The beast had shattered the door. It stuck its snout into the hole. Weaker deep breaths were interrupted by the clogging of blood in the nostrils. Scarce light streamed through as it pulled its head out. They were safe for the time being.

“How long has it been?” Patrick thought. He grew frustrated at how late they’d been up. Any suggestion that the time hadn’t reached 5am seemed impossible. But two outcomes would emerge if he spotted a clock. The small amount of waiting time would make him feel relieved or the agonizing latter would greatly disappoint him.

Patrick tried to think rationally but his mind once again began its tricks. Leigha’s mind didn’t encourage her either, however her naive youth kept it from racing as badly as her brother’s. But with youth also came worry and uncertainty. She shook from fear. Patrick drew tears trying not to let her see.

Some time had passed. Time remolded into an illusion. Patrick’s knees ached from leaning against the wooden frame. His legs cramped tightly. He needed to stretch and rest his feet. Leigha’s smaller size allowed her to barely sit sideways. He made the risky choice to travel back towards the hole and look out. The beast was nowhere to be found. Blood smeared the pointed edges of the hole and streaked out of the closet. The carpet stained red. He could see the window frame to the right just beyond the closet door. It wore a subtle blue light. His relief rekindled in an ever so tiny spark of hope. The sun would rise within the next hour.

“Leigha! The sky is blue! It’s almost morning!”

Leigha smiled for the first time in nearly a day. Her body suppressed the shaking. The beast had left the room.

The wall burst open lighting up the corridor with a loud thump. The wall fell like paper. Patrick heard Leigha’s frightened scream. He turned.

“Leigha! No!”

Large drooling jaws shot in between the frame space overhead. Leigha fell to her knees and crawled towards Patrick.

Patrick slid to grab her hand. The wall collapsed inches away from him on the opposite side. The creature had crashed straight into it blocking the exit. It had mustered all of the strength it had left into a charge. They leaned tightly against the interior wall. They watched as the monster ripped away at the wall letting more blue light stream in. It snarled angrily through its teeth. The beast was enraged. Madder than ever and out for revenge, it refused to stop. Patrick’s suspicions proved correct. The animal did not bleed out and still retained its strength.

The outer wall reduced to fragments. The space revealed the forest and blue morning sky. Their only chance of survival involved them staying put.

The beast wrapped its massive paws around the frame. But it slid back down. Its fatigue finally caught up to it after the charge. It no longer possessed the strength to tear down the frames.

But it could still bite. The beast raised its cracked head to Patrick’s. The shotgun severely damaged the right eye rendering it bloodshot and next to blind. Blood clotted along its flaked dead skin. It gnashed it’s jagged teeth at him an inch away. It moved down to Patrick’s bloody wrapped hand and sniffed it (or snorted, rather due to the blood running into its nasal cavities). It produced a small torn brown tongue with black spots. It licked away at Patrick’s blood. Tears ran down his face and Leigha couldn’t look away. They both began to cry.

The beast’s bloodlust once again revived from the taste. It reached its head towards the closest part of Patrick, his right thigh. It gnashed it’s teeth as it’s jaw scraped against the wood. It did not quite clamp its teeth around his leg but it reached his skin. It started to scrape its teeth against Patrick’s skin. Before he knew it, blood ran down his knees and down his shin. He didn’t want to scream, however the pain was extremely difficult to suppress. He winced in pain, tears rolling down his chin. The beast forcibly pressed its head against the wood causing the frame to peel back its skin. It groaned in frustration and its eyelids drew red. The teeth worked their way towards the muscle. One of its front row teeth rejected and hung onto his torn skin. Patrick was a fraction of an inch away from having his artery severed.

The explosion boomed throughout the forest. The beast stumbled revealing the side of its chest. Its rib cage was exposed and a red river flowed out into the ground. The creature turned to the source and screamed in pain. It fumbled to the ground struggling to its feet.

The beast fell. The chances of it getting up were eradicated. It groaned weakly.

The children looked up to see a man dressed in a dark green uniform. He wore a black ranger hat with a shiny golden badge. He wore a similar one on his chest. He held a smoking Remington 870 shotgun pointed straight at the beast. He walked up to the massive fallen beast and racked a round.

The beast’s head disintegrated into a mess of skull fragments and brain matter. Blood rained on the autumn leaves. The ranger slung the shotgun on his back and ran to the children.

“Are you alright? Are you hurt?” His authoritative voice sounded typical but stoic. He looked down to see Patrick’s bloody leg. Both children looked into his eyes and began to weep. They squeezed through the frame space, just wide enough for them to fit. They ran to him, wrapped their arms around his back and dug their faces into his shirt. He embraced them and held the back of their heads. He comforted them and their grip tightened.

Sirens wailed in the distance past the trees. Two ambulances, two more Park Rangers and three police cars appeared. Two black cadillacs also followed. They ran out to the scene. Three officers investigated the scene while three paramedics ran around the house to the children. The paramedics grabbed Patrick and immediately asked him if he was okay. They set up a medical tent and helped carry Patrick there. They guided Leigha there as well. One of the EMTs, a short and stocky older man checked their pupils while a woman around the same size began sanitizing and wrapping Patrick’s wound. One of the canines had dug into the muscle but did not tear it.

A tall policeman with greying hair opened the tent and told the EMTs they had found other bodies and needed help.

“Stay here. Are you two going to be okay?” The woman asked.

The children didn’t nod but showed no signs of requiring immediate attention.

“There are two policemen and one ranger outside. You two will be fine. We’ll be back, I promise.” She exclaimed with a protective look. She and the other EMTs departed the tent. They waited and bottled water was provided to them.

Several minutes later, a man seemingly in his late 50s wearing a lab coat walked in. He smiled and approached the children. He was balding and had only grey or white hair. His face had some stubble. He wore the typical doctor’s glasses.

“Hello, my name is Dr. Holbrook.” He said to them. “How are you two feeling?”

They couldn’t bring themselves to answer but their expressions again showed no immediate pain.

“It’s okay. I am here to help.” He had a stern spoken voice carrying a faint but pleasant intelligent tone. “I’m a forensic scientist for the police department and I understand you called about a massive animal. I apologize we took so long to arrive. One of the officers had an accident on the way over. When nobody responded, we sent out more people to investigate. The Trembles’ call never came through.”

His explanation provided little relief. They found it hard to trust anyone but the ranger at this point.

“Now,” he said, “did it bite or touch any of you?”

Patrick reluctantly admitted.

“Could you show me please? Don’t worry, this won’t hurt.” He produced a needle full of clear fluids. He slowly unwrapped the bandages. The bandage took dead skin and clotting blood with it causing a sharp sting. He placed the substance on his wound and the pain shortly subsided. The doctor laid out a bag of steel shiny tools on the table next to them. Most of them looked strange and grisly. He picked out a pair of thin forceps curved at the end and a file. He brought them to the wound. It was still bleeding. He delicately spread apart the hole caused by the tooth. It disgusted Patrick but he couldn’t look away.

“Ah ha, what have we here?” said the doctor excitedly. The tip of the forceps disappeared into his flesh and retracted holding a tooth. A small piece of rotten flesh stuck to it.

“Fascinating,” he pronounced slowly. He placed it in a small plastic bag.

“Now, take one of these.” He handed Patrick three pills. They were white, tan, and one black and white. “They’re antibiotics. They will protect you from infection”. He reached inside his lab coat and took out another syringe containing clear liquid. He placed the needle into his thigh and injected the substance.

“This is going to halt and destroy any foreign processes caused by the bite” he explained. He proved very knowledgeable and confident about the procedure. He asked Leigha one more time if she had any contact with the creature.

“That is all. The medics will take you to the hospital and you will both be fine health-wise. Thank you both for being so cooperative.” He smiled as he sanitized his tools, gathered them in his bag, and walked towards the exit.

“W-what was that thing?” Patrick asked reluctantly. The doctor paused momentarily. He slowly turned around.

“No matter. It’s dead now. You won’t have to worry.” He departed the tent leaving the children. Shortly after, the EMTs returned placing them on stretchers and rolled them out toward the ambulance. Leigha looked over to be greeted by a familiar face.

“Mommy!!” She shouted.

Her mother pushed past the paramedics and embraced her. She cried tears of joy and worry. Her father also arrived and cried hugging Patrick first. They embraced each other. Finally, they knew they were safe.

Both children were rushed into the ER. The doctor, two nurses, and one of the EMTs tended to Patrick. Another doctor accompanied by a nurse examined Leigha. Leigha had no injuries but was deemed traumatized. They scheduled her to see a psychiatrist.

Patrick laid on the bed with his leg stuck out. The doctor and nurses examined his wound. The bleeding almost completely stopped.

“So you said you were bitten?” The doctor asked.

Patrick nodded. “It bit into my leg”.

The nurses looked closer. He surprised everyone by not visibly showing pain. They looked back at him, unconfident in his answer.

“We can see the bite mark but we can’t seem to find any foreign material. No bacteria, no tooth fragments, nothing. It’s healing quite fast for a large rabid animal bite”

“I know, Dr. Holbrook came in and helped me! He gave me two shots and these pills.”

“Dr. Holbrook?” The doctor questioned him.

“He’s the forensic scientist.”

The doctor and nurses accepted his answer but the EMT looked confused and in disbelief.

“Dr. Holbrook?” Asked the EMT, “he never reported in with us. He must have showed up after we left for the hospital.”

“No, he was in the tent” Patrick claimed.

The EMT gave them a worried look.

The police later reported that Dr. Holbrook never made it to the crime scene. About 3 miles up the road, they found his car sitting on the side. They looked in to find him asleep in his driver’s seat. He would not wake up until an hour later. When he woke up, he explained that he remembered a grey Ford van stopped in the middle of the road. The driver signaled for him to stop. He recalled stepping out of the vehicle but nothing afterwards.