⊹⊹ 1 ⊹⊹

The high school hums and pops with chatter from students mingling by their lockers before class, all of them with one topic of conversation on their tongues- the beginning of summer break.

As typical, the jocks mingle with the jocks, the preps snigger with the preps, band kids toot with band kids, goths in the shadows with other goths, nerds calculating with nerds, and loner losers scattered to the winds. A typical American small-town high school experience.

Then there’s Ryker Scott.
Ryker Scott knows everyone.

If he were to be classified, he’d likely fit into the “loner” category, though even they don’t want him around.

This is because Ryker doesn’t exactly know people in the way that he’s friends with them, but more of in the way he’s widely disliked and considered a creep with a camera glued in his hands. A lone-wolf, trailer trash, druggie, smartass who makes it his personal mission to gather all of the dirt on you he can- with photographic evidence, preferably. Everyone knows this, so the majority cold-shoulder him in a respectful, classy manner, primarily only giving him nasty looks behind his back. They also know he writes a damn fine school paper- one they all read and willfully forget that he wrote.

Ryker Scott knows everything.

Except for when to shut up.

Unlike other victims of lower ranking in the high school hierarchy, Ryker seemingly makes it a sport to be picked on, which isn’t exactly a stable method for someone who abstains from physical violence. However, if any reason to snap back and practice quip-y responses presents itself, he would take it. This is most true for the band of brothers- football edition; the leader and quarterback Matthew Thompson, his right hand man and middle linebacker Kurtis “Kurtz” Carter, the mindless crony Randall “Ram” Aimsley, and the last two loyal followers, the running back Tom Greyson, and the full back John Ansel. 

They have a long standing relationship with Ryker- something so potent that it, for all intents and purposes, is etched into the foundation of the very school itself.

The school bell rings throughout the halls and everyone begins to shuffle their way to their classes.

Shelana Callahan is already in her class. She is always early, never "on time” (an unacceptable standard for arriving at any scheduled event). No, “on time” for Shelana means at her desk, notepad opened to a fresh page, pens, pencils, highlighters all at the ready in their designated spots. Propper, quiet, and ready to learn- her mother would be proud.

No one really notices Shelana much. She is mousey, reserved, and typically gets in and out of school as soon as she can (her mother, Victoria, has made a point to instill that mingling with the lessers in her class would bring down her image- and the Callahans certainly have the kind of image to uphold).

Unlike Shelana who has the luxury of getting to class practically unnoticed, Ryker keeps his head on a swivel for the band of brother assholes. On any other day of the year he can tolerate their harassment, but it has been their tradition to be extra intolerable on the final day of whatever it may be- the final day before a long weekend, before a break, and even then- none of them compare to how they act the last day before summer break. If skipping the last day was an option he would take it, but it isn’t, so he has to resort to any means of survival he can implement. He doesn’t want to end up breathing in toilet water like last year, losing his glasses, shirt, shoes, and getting his shoulder dislocated. Not to mention the chasing they like to do.

He looks like a gazelle trying to step discreetly through the tall grass. A jolt runs down his spine when he hears his name coming from Kurtis Carter’s mouth, “Oh~, Scotty~!”

Ryker doesn’t even look back- he books it.

Some of his fellow classmates giggle as they look on or just mind their business entirely and part the sea for the football players, not so much Ryker. Whether they want to see him torn to pieces or they don’t want to get run over by athletes that specialize in causing damage leaves itself to be known. He can hear the taunting beckoning of Matthew, Kurtz, Ram, Tom, and John as he rounds a corner, plowing straight first into Anthony Reeves, toppling them both over onto the floor.

Anthony Reeves is a weirdo.

  Years ago in 3rd grade he tried to befriend Ryker- though Ryker wasn’t at all interested and stuffed worms in his pants. Neither of them know why Ryker chose to reject him in such a way, but the message was clear enough for Anthony, so they have steered clear of one another.

Like Ryker, he doesn’t have any friends. But that doesn’t stop him from trying! Anthony is sort of a drifter- changing himself to fit in with whatever group is bored enough to deal with him. But it never lasts for long. No matter how much he tries to change himself, he is still, in fact, a weirdo. He has managed to be with the goths for about two months, which is a record time!

“What the Hell, Ryker?!” Anthony pushes Ryker as he moves to get out from under him. But no matter how fast either of them move, the boys will catch up in no time at all. Ryker knows they’re coming- but~ not Anthony.

Desperate times.

“What the Hell to you!” Ryker scrambles off of Anthony, using his body to push himself up, “ Who rounds a corner that tightly?!” He makes it a few feet back just as the guys catch up.

“What do you mean?! I-” Anthony quickly stammers off as he notices the jocks towering over him.

Matthew stands at the front, looking down at him like a hungry Coyote, “Hey, Reeves,”

“I present to you! A human sacrifice,” Ryker does a grand bow before turning tail and sprinting down the hall as quickly as his short legs will carry him.

Ram shouts out after him, “We’ll see you later, Scott! You can count on it!”

Ryker glances over his shoulder as he gets to the other end of the hall. The transaction seems successful as he sees John and Tom pick up Anthony by his shirt and arm. He breathes a sigh of relief.

Poor kid. But better him than me.

The thought pierces his consciousness that Anthony Reeves will only serve as a warmup. These guys will only be getting more riled up…He shakes it off and heads into class. All he needs to do is to avoid them for another seven hours…

Ryker continues to be haunted by his sins and the thought of his execution as the school day progresses. At lunch he catches a glimpse of Anthony. He can’t tell if it’s the makeup or a black eye forming, but it’s safe to assume he got the shit beat out of him. Ryker thinks it’s best to avoid that awkward confrontation so he ducks out of the cafeteria as soon as he grabs lunch. He heads straight for the dark room- the only place he knows to be safe, the only place he can lock everyone else out. He slinks down the corridor and hallways before getting to the dark room. He unlocks it, slipping in, and quickly closing it behind himself as he locks it.

The chemicals kept in the dark room can be rather dangerous, which is why Principal Frasier keeps it under lock and key. He knows that Ryker is practically harmless in terms of being a teenager. It’s no secret Mr. Scott has zero friends, and zero friends means he won’t be bringing anyone near chemicals that can burn the school down. It’s also one reason he trusts Ryker enough with a key to the school building over the summers. The first year Ryker had to do a lot of begging, pleading, and stating his case for the key to access the dark room, “For a safe place to develop both personal photos and school photos! It helps nourish my photography skills, which, as you know, I plan to pursue as a journalist! This will only serve to further my professional career!’

Frasier just got tired of it and gave him the key.

Since then it has been two summers, and nothing bad has happened…After he returned the first summer to find the building in one piece, Principal Frasier just decided to give him the key every summer. It is a safe place for him to develop his film, after all, and he has seen improvement every year when it comes to the paper.

But not even locked doors can keep him safe forever. Ryker slips out of the room, locking it before trying to ninja his way to his next class. He spots Anthony and their eyes lock for a moment. Anthony just shakes his head as he turns his attention to his locker- a pronounced look of disappointment behind his eyes that would be more meaningful if Ryker cared what Anthony thought of him.

Ryker continues to class, landing safely in his seat behind Shelana- the best seat in the class. She’s smart, and will raise her hand to answer every question. Her search for adult praise and approval makes it to where many teachers won’t even so much as look her way when a question is asked. To many of her peers, she comes across as a tryhard, which is almost worse than being Anthony.

Despite poaching the seat behind her in math class for an entire school year, he hasn’t so much as bothered to say hi. She did for a few days in the beginning, which is when Ryker broke out the Walkman before coming into the room. Since then she hasn’t said much, but has instead given him polite smiles here and there.

The school bell rings, and Shelana gives all of her focus to the algebra lesson. Some others also pay attention, as they should, but the majority just doodle, stare out the window, or work on anything else but algebra. Ryker is definitely one of them. Math is confusing, and it’s the last day, what are they even going to learn that’s so important? After some time, he absentmindedly bounces his leg as he decides to stare at the clock.

2:31PM

Insufferable.

He glances to the board and instantly becomes overwhelmed by what he sees. No point in tryna make sense of that shit. He looks out the window, Oh, a Cardinal…I think it’s a boy. Man, I’d give anything to be a bird, it must be so rad to just fly wherever you want. He looks to the back of Shelana’s head. How long has that gum been there? He chuckles quietly under his breath, man, that’s gonna be a major bummer later, glad that ain’t me…He nonchalantly slides his hand through his hair, relaxing some as he feels an absence of chewed gum. He continues to search the room, becoming distracted by everything. It's never been difficult for him to be distracted. 

He looks back to the clock.

2:32PM

Absolutely intolerable.

God only knows how he will make it through the last hour of school. He looks out the window again, his mind easily slipping away towards the summer and all he is going to do. He starts to think about the improvements he wants to make on the school paper for next year. Like the past two summers, he plans to write about the summer, and what many of the student body did over it. It’s a good way to stay involved in other peoples’ business. Or, maybe to just be involved. It does get lonely after all, being on the wrong side of everyone. He shakes the feeling off as he glances to the clock again.

3:15PM

Shelana raises her hand. The teacher chooses someone on the other side of the room.

Ryker smirks a bit to himself, laying his head down on his arms. 

It feels like only a minute when the final bell rings and the sound of chairs flying back across the floor invigorates the room with excitement like a hallelujah chorus. Ryker’s head shoots up, and he wastes no time in grabbing his bag and rushing out of the classroom.

3:45PM

Summer has begun for the children and teens of Bryson CIty.

Ryker books it to Principal Frasier’s office, gets the school key, and retreats home. Somehow, despite all odds, Ryker Scott manages to elude the footballers as he makes it to his bike, freeing it from the rack and pedalling away like there’s no tomorrow. His mind quickly wanders away from the horrors of the day to his plans for the summer.

⊹⊹⊹⊹

When it comes to the people his age, there are countless items to file under reasons for Ryker to continually avoid them and for them to avoid him…But for the next three, sweet, beautiful months hardly any of that will matter. Why, might one wonder?

       “Because it’s the summer of 1985, baby, and I plan on spending every breathing second of it at the arcade- Princess Daphne ain’t gonna save herself!” Ryker speaks as if he was a greaser trying to woo over a high school sweetie. He unzips his bookbag, speedily flipping it and gutting all of the final ties to the school year into the trash.

His mother, Valeriya, stares at him with an impartial look as she leans against the counter, “Really? That’s what you are going to do all summer? Sweetheart- there’s nothing wrong with spending your summer how you want. I would just like it if you spent some time outside exploring, y’know? Maybe take some nice photos with the camera Adrik got you?”

“I guess there’s nothing wrong with that. Mucking about in ninety-plus-degree heat, taking pictures of grass and bugs...maybe even a squirrel!” He shakes the final few crumbs out of his bag and into the kitchen trash can. “If all else fails, I’ll go find the dildo-squad, maybe they can beat me up and make life more interesting.”

“Ryker.” She sounds unamused.

He chuckles and zips his bag closed, “Of course, I’m just dicking around- I love outside. I wouldn’t mind doing some~ pokin’ about. I’ll get some pretty nature shots for you. Who knows, maybe I could even find something worth really investigating in this boring-ass town.”
Valeriya smiles and kisses his forehead, “Thank you. Knowing you, I’m sure you’ll find something to stick your nose into. Now- go enjoy your first afternoon of summer.”
Ryker gives her a smile and starts to head to his room speaking loudly so his mother can hear him from down the hall, “I’ll probably be, like, waaay too late for dinner!” He starts to pack the essentials for summer survival: his camera, a notebook, a pen, a baggie of quarters, and a couple of blunts.

“I’ll save some for you in the fridge!” She shouts back from the kitchen.

“Rad, thank you!” He zips his bag closed and throws it over his shoulder, heading back out of his room and towards the front door, “Bye, Mommy!”

“Bye, Baby, be safe!”

He closes the door as he skips down the three wooden porch steps and onto the rich earth, taking no time to grab his bike from against the double-wide trailer. He starts to walk the bike down the gravel driveway towards the dirt road when he spots Adrik’s Racoon, “Hey, Bridget!” He stops for a moment to rub her head. He gives her a couple final pats before continuing to the road. Bridget lets out a chitter as he gets to the dirt road and pushes off on his bike.

Five years ago, Ryker’s Uncle, Adrik, was investigating the underbelly of the trailer home after hearing noises coming from it over the span of a week or two. That’s when he found Bridget. She was small, sick, and abandoned. He’d assumed that the mother had left her to die, so he plucked her out of the dirt and took her to a wildlife vet to be taken care of. He adopted her, nurtured her, and raised her into the spoiled, adorable monster that she has become. Bridget likes to wander around outside from time to time, but usually is inside with Adrik, cramped away into his room while he works on his computer, programming for IBM. He keeps talking about how Microsoft and IBM are planning on teaming together to create an OS; something about the name CP/DOS. Ryker and his mom are never too sure about what Adrik says when it comes to computers; everything begins to sound like a foreign language.

Ryker parks his bike in an open bike rack slot outside of the Starbomb Arcade- the local hotspot for all the coins that get lost between the couch cushions. The Arcade is like a second home to him. Over the years, Ryker and Adam Locke, the owner, became close friends; Adam became like an older brother to him and has shared countless meals with Ryker’s family. But from time to time, Adam gets on Ryker’s case for not making friends his own age- a dull and repetitive dance of a conversation that Ryker knows the moves to all too well from his mother. It was always easier for him to bond with older people- people out of high school- because they didn’t harass him; and, not to mention, being friends with Adam means free snacks and getting to play games after closing which are pretty cool perks if you ask Ryker.

The Starbomb Arcade is a buzzing hub of life in the summer. It is a place for any kid. You don’t like to sit inside and watch TV? Come play video games. You don’t want to sit outside all day counting blades of grass? Come play video games. You want to play video games? Come play video games. You have every species of kid, too; from the loners, to the geeks, from the goodie goodies, to your football players. If you want to observe the K-12 hierarchy disrupted by the simple placement of a quarter against a cabinet screen, the arcade was the place to be.

“Hey, Adam!” Ryker squeezes past some kids leaving the arcade. He makes his way to the counter as Adam sets down a large cup of Grapefruit soda in front of him, picking his People Magazine back up.

“Hey, how was the last day of school?” He turns the page to the magazine, glancing at Ryker for a moment or two.

“It was boring, mostly just a ton of sitting around! So enriching.” He grabs the soda taking a few slurps of it, “Thanks! Now-” Ryker takes off his book bag. He sets it on the counter as he pulls out a handful of quarters from it, shoving them in his pocket, “Wish me luck!” He leans over the counter, placing his book bag by Adam’s feet.

“Go get her, Tiger.” He says in an enthusiastically calm tone as he leans back on his stool, continuing to read his magazine.
⊹⊹⊹⊹

The sun had long set behind the mountains of Bryson as Adam was beginning to close up shop. As per usual, Ryker was the last kid to be in the arcade. He usually just lazed about or kept Adam company as he closed, playing a game or two while he counted money in the back.

Adam emerges from his office after a little while longer and joins Ryker by the Dragon’s Lair cabinet, leaning his shoulder against it as his arms cross,  “No closer to saving Princess Daphne, I take it?” His tone came across as if saving the princess was an easy feat, and anyone could do it.

  “Damnit!” Ryker lets out a groan as he rubs his face, taking a step back from the gaming cabinet to try to compose himself. “…Noo~” he grumbles, letting out one last defeated sigh.

“That’s a downer. Well, there’s always tomorrow.” Adam reaches back and turns off the power strip connecting the cabinets to their electrical food source. “It’s getting late and I want to go home.”

“What? You don’t live here?”

“Ha-ha, come on,” Adam begins to wave Ryker towards the direction of the front doors. 

The two make their way outside, Ryker grabbing his bag from behind the counter as he goes by…Adam locks the door, and Ryker grabs his orange bike from the rack. The humid June night felt like he was being coddled by the air around him. It was warm, but sticky. It was the kind of weather you could fall asleep outside in and nothing bad would ever dare happen to you while you slumbered.

“Need a ride home?”

“Nah, I’m good, gotta enjoy the weather while it lasts.”

“Yeah, as if it ain’t gonna be summer for another- what, three and a half months?” He messes with his keys, finding the one to unlock his car.

Ryker waves him off as he gets onto his bike as he starts to ride off, “Life is short! See you later, man”

“See ya.” He chuckles and gets into his car.

Ryker rides down the road dimly-lit by the buzzing street lights. The summer wind swims through the hills ‘n hollers, and makes music through the trees, landing to cling tightly to his skin as he cuts through it on his bike. He takes a deep breath and glances up to the sky, watching storm clouds rush through the world above, covering the moon for brief moments at a time…But something in his gut shifts, and Ryker starts to get a twisted, heavy feeling. Sort of like how you feel when you have to give a group presentation, but everyone in your group is absent except for you. He shrugs it off but after a minute or two, the unease begins to worsen.

The lights behind him start to flicker as if they were fighting for life - until they each let loose a pop. Their glass falling to the road like forbidden snow. With this, Ryker halts, keeping his back turned to the road behind him. He isn’t exactly sure why he stopped. Perhaps it is because he wants to convince himself nothing is happening and he is just being overdramatic. A low grumble emits from the darkness, echoing off of the trees. His posture stiffens as he mutters to himself.

“God- don’t be like the horror flicks, don’t- I swear to fuck” He slowly turns around in time to see the streetlights closest to him starting to flicker like their fallen brothers; one by one they too go out. Another grumble echoes through the street, but this time it sounds a lot closer than before. He slowly turns forward on his bike, casually starting to pedal off, picking his pace up as he continues to talk to himself,

“No, dude, I don’t think that’s very rad, nope, nope, nope!”

Loud thuds started to pick up behind him before becoming absent, replaced with the scraping of asphalt and wooshes of large swaths of air being displaced as whatever it is lets lose hungered snarls. Ryker loses the ‘keep calm’ charade and pedals as fast as he can, muttering profanities to himself all while trying to deny whatever it is behind him. He maneuvers his bag to his front, yanking a small gap of zipper open as he pulls his camera out. He turns to try and face whatever is behind him, snapping a picture- letting the flash illuminate a creature about the size of a grown man. Its wings spread out wide as it tried to evade the flashing of the camera, its claws briefly reflecting some of the light. “What the f-?!” He bites the polaroid film between his lips as it dispenses itself from the camera. He shoves the camera back into his bag just in time to feel his bike come to almost a sudden halt. Letting out a muffled scream, he falls forward off of his bike as it’s swept from under him- he stumbles onto the road, scrambling onto his feet as he continues rushing down the street on foot, gripping the picture in his fist and continues muttering profanities to himself in lieu of prayer as he searches for any means of safety. There. An open window.

“Thank God! Please don’t be a creepy old man!”

He hears the sound of twisting and bending metal as he frantically climbs through the window, slamming it shut behind himself. He quickly locks it and slides the blinds closed as he backs up to the opposite wall, turning off the lights. He tries to recollect his breath as he begins to scratch at the back of his right hand.

“Who are you?!” A terrified shriek comes from a girl sitting in bed.

He snaps his eyes to her, rushing to and pulling her from the bed and onto the floor, hushing her as the creature lets out a low grumble and soft screeches in its search, proceeded by a thud on the ground and heavy flapping that grows distant after a few moments. Ryker lets out a sigh of relief.

The girl looks to the window, trying to make sense of the sounds, “What…”

Ryker eases away from her, letting go of her arm, “Scott…Ryker Scott…You’re, uh, Callahan, right?”

“Y-Yeah. We are in the same class, aren’t we?” She nods to herself, answering the question she already knew the answer to, “Um…Wh-What was that?”

Ryker looks to the developing picture in his hand briefly before shoving it into his pocket, unsure of what it even was, or if he could trust her enough to show her the picture once it’s done. He doesn’t want her to get involved any more than she already has. There is finally something happening in this God-forsaken town that he can investigate. It’s dangerous, but that just makes it all the more enticing. He feels the adrenaline pumping through his body still; he trembles as he tries to wrap his mind around everything all at once.

“I-I’m not sure.” He looks at her, holding his hand out to her, “Scott…”

She looks to his quivering hand and takes it, shaking it, “You already said that. Shelana Callahan, which, you also knew .”

Ryker nods a bit to her, suddenly evaluating the situation he has gotten himself into. He knows Shelana Callahan to be a timid, quiet girl. She likes to be comfortable and safe in her imaginary world, the only thing she can control; she reads the first and last pages of each novel she picks up before even considering reading it because she doesn’t like surprises and she hates character death. Luckily, she is timid enough to the point that it would be easy to convince her to not call the police. How would that look? A boy who knows a lot about a girl, who knows almost nothing of his existence, jumps through her window unannounced and uninvited, dragging her out of bed and onto the floor telling her to stay quiet. It wouldn’t paint a pretty picture of him, and he’s sure no police would believe that he was being chased by some flying monster- even with photographic evidence. So maybe he should just give her a little bit of what she wants- to know.

“Uh. Sorry I kind of broke into your home. Whatever that thing was- it was chasing me, and I didn’t really feel like becoming something’s supper.” He slowly gets off of the floor, heading to the window to peek out of it. Every cell in his body is telling him to get out of the house now; he for sure does not belong there- not with Callahan- maybe he could fare better with the monster thing? He spots his crumpled pretzel-fied bike sitting in the middle of the yard. He doesn't really have a choice.

“Is it still out there?” Shelana cautiously stands up from the floor, slowly inching her way towards the window, keeping a few feet of distance between Ryker and herself.

“I think it’s gone...Do you have any friends, Callahan?” He keeps his gaze out of the window, knowing full well that she doesn’t.

She seems confused by the question, “No. Not really.”

“Want to be friends?” His gut twists as he shovels the words off of his tongue. The idea of being in a relationship where he’d have to look out for someone else; the idea of being in a relationship that could only end in back-stabbing- it was less than appealing.

Shelana lets out a soft and confused chuckle, “S-Sure?”

Ryker was beginning to want to test his luck with the monster. But maybe his pride isn’t worth his life, “Rad, and now, since we’re friends, you totally wouldn’t kick me out of your house while that thing is out there, right?”

She continues to stare at him, “No?..I- wouldn’t have kicked you out either way, I don’t think. Well, I would have- if I hadn’t heard the growling and screeching of...whatever that was outside.”

“Oh...Okay” Damnit.

They continue to stand in evergrowing awkward silence for what feels like an eternity until Shelana’s mousy voice cuts through the quiet, “I, um...I’ll get you some blankets, and you can sleep on the floor.”
“Rad, but, like, in here? In your room?”

“My mom would kill you if she saw you, then kill me for having a guy over. So, yeah. In here, I guess.” She starts to leave for her door, cautiously pulling it open enough for her to squeeze through, wanting to keep everything beyond it hidden.

Ryker looks around the room as he makes his way to the bed, looking at family pictures in pretty little frames on her perfectly leveled little shelves as he goes. He plops onto the bed and kicks his shoes off, resting his hands on his lap. It feels like being at a doctor’s office, waiting to be vaccinated. You know the doctor will be back with the needle at any moment.

Shelana creeps along the edge of the hallway as she makes her way to the closet with extra blankets, thoughts running through her head as her feet's muscle memory guides her to the quiet floor boards. Her brain feels like a whirlpool she is trapped in. I hope Mom doesn’t wake up. I hope she doesn’t see him. Maybe I should have him sleep under my bed? No, that would sound weird...What if this is fate? Maybe we are supposed to be friends? I’m not too sure what to do. Should I be more confident? I mean, he was the one who asked to be friends...But maybe he only asked because he didn’t want to go outside. Either way, he’s here now, right? She gets to the closet and grabs a few blankets. Why not give it a try? It would be fun to have a friend! She closes the door and starts to make her way back to the room as she dances with the thought of newfound friendship; she feels confidence mixed with excitement welling in her heart.

Shelana steps into the room, looking at Ryker on her bed for a moment before going to set the blankets on the side of the bed opposite from the door, “So, what do you like to do? Besides getting chased by weird monsters in the dark?”

He can’t help but chuckle, “ I’m a photographer for the school, as well as an investigative reporter and journalist- I like finding stories, and I~ guess you could say getting to the bottom of things..? What about you?”

“I like to draw, and read. I like ghost stories, and mysteries. Sort of similar to what you like to do, I guess? Just- fictional…” She stands up and sits beside him on the opposite end of the bed. Talking to him is easier than she thought it would be.

“Rad. What you like to do is probably better entertainmentwise, there’s usually not many stories in Bryson.” His tone takes a sardonic turn.

“What about this one? The giant monster? Are you going to look into that?”

“Well, yeah, obviously.”

“Do you want any help?” The idea of helping with an investigation of a mysterious monster sounded like a story straight out of one of her books, and it excited her.

“What? No, I like to do things alone.” Shit. He doesn’t like where this line of questioning will go.

“Why?” She crosses her legs on the bed, fully turning herself to face Ryker.

“Because I don’t need to have anyone else’s back but mine- things are easier when I don’t need to worry about someone else backstabbing me, or whatever.”

“Maybe it would be good to have someone to trust, you know? Especially when trying to deal with a monster; maybe another set of eyes can be a good thing?”

“Oh, I see what you’re doing. Yeah, I work better on my own, the way it’s always been.” He scoots off of her bed and onto the blankets on the floor.

“But if we’re friends, and, if friends help each other~…” She moves to lie down in bed, peering down at him from over the edge, “Then maybe you should try working with others.”

He grumbles a bit, “That’s good. You’re a smart cookie, ain’t ya?” He takes off his glasses and sets them under her bed, “I’ll think about it.” He buries himself under the blanket, disappearing from sight for the rest of the night. Shelana smiles to herself and lies back in bed.

The room falls silent, and soon his eyes adjust to the darkness. He hears Shelana’s breathing become heavier as she falls into a deep sleep, something he can’t seem to do. His mind keeps returning to the creature. His fingers creep their way into his pocket and return to him with the polaroid picture. Without a light, he can’t quite make out the darkness of the image, but his eyes lock onto two glowing white orbs. They have a shine to them like the moon, reflective and soft. If it was any other circumstance, he’d find the picture quite rad. But it isn’t. And he doesn’t. His body runs cold as he looks at the picture, almost transfixed by what little he can see. Eventually, after what feels like too long- he slips the picture away and focuses on trying to sleep. But his mind won’t let him- it continues to race, running rampant until it loses track of itself as he dozes and finally slips into sleep.

⊹⊹⊹⊹