Jacob

Jacob woke and heard something moving in the dark bedroom.

At first, he didn’t know where he was, but his mind cleared as he struggled against consciousness, tried to hold back from falling asleep again. He remembered going to the office door, hoped to join the others, but Connor said he wasn’t allowed inside, and Uncle Easton backed him up.

He tried to listen against the door, but he couldn’t hear them quite well, so Jacob went into the adjacent room. It was quieter in there than the hallway, but he still couldn’t listen to what they were discussing after five minutes of trying.

Defeated, Jacob laid down on the soft sheets, thinking of all the ways he could convince Connor to divulge what they were talking about inside, though he had a sneaking suspicion it was all about how to get out of here. There were undoubtedly muffled shouting behind the wall, but they were incoherent as if they were arguing with each other. Maybe it was a good idea that he stayed behind. If there’s one thing Jacob hated, it was when grown adults fought in front of him.

Jacob would side with his father, of course. If there was one person in this entire house who would be too happy to leave, Jacob was number one on the list. He didn’t like to think about the giants or the flying fiend every time he closed his eyes or imagining them at every corner. Though, the woods was a different matter.

As he laid there on the most comfortable bed in the world, his mind wandered deeper, realized how tired he was. Counting back the hours, he determined that he had been awake for more than sixteen hours! He was aware of all the muscles in his body throbbing from the exhaustion, running all the way from the Marina to grandpa’s house, only resting once, and then that tree showed up and started eating people. Jacob was surprised he even managed to make it at all. He hated running; the only reason why a C in gym class was the only blip in his report card.

I won’t have to worry about that now, Jacob thought. Is there even going to be school?

He told himself that he shouldn’t lay on the bed too long, in a stranger’s bed no less, which smelled like old people and cigarettes. But another part of his mind urged him to wait, to listen to the office door opening, and then he could climb out of bed and rejoined the others downstairs. He’d liked to show Eli and maybe the other kids that he was with the adults on the second floor, talking adult planning stuff, which brought a warm, confident feeling inside his chest.

But instead, he fell asleep.

He startled awake.

I shouldn’t have laid down on the bed, Jacob grumbled. It won’t hurt if I spare maybe five more minutes?

Jacob glanced at the clock, but that didn’t tell him anything since it showed the wrong time. It was still dark outside from the cracks of the shutters, and he wondered how long he had been asleep. It felt like it wasn’t long, still groggy and tired that even he had to struggle to haul himself out of bed.

But the scuttling sound returned.

The strange noise emanated from the other side of the room. But it wasn’t an ordinary rustle, no, it was a sneaky sound. Yes. Definitely sneaky to Jacob’s ears.

Jacob took his feet off the floor, and sat on his knees, grabbed a pillow to use as a shield. Though he doubted, it would do any good if something wanted to eat him, but it did calm him down. He studied the windows and the shutters, but it didn’t look like they had been opened or something broke through. They remained intact. He slowed his breathing so he could hear more, squinted his eyes into the gloom but saw nothing.

Oh, why did I go in here alone in the dark?

Another rustling disturbed the stillness and louder this time.

Then silence.

Jacob bit his lips, held his breath, and listened harder.

A book fell from the shelf, and a faint shuffling, scurrying noise followed after it. Jacob let out a gasp. Nearer, something was coming across the room toward the bed.

Jacob threw the pillow at the direction of the noise and bolted off, his heart hammered, more books fell from racks, landing like drums on the floorboards. The sound hissed right behind him.

Jacob whirled around, let out a yelp, half-expecting a vile creature lunging for his throat. He brought his hands up to block its jaws, tripped over his own ankle, sent him scuttling down onto the floor. His back hit the door.

Something flopped and fluttered near his right foot, but the room was too dark to see what it was. Jacob instinctively kicked away at it, fearing it was trying to bite his ankle, and it scrambled away from him with a low, hissing whimper.

Jacob fumbled through his pockets, fished out his phone and turned on the flash. He aimed it where the creature went.

There were shoeboxes under the bed, and Jacob couldn’t see past them because it was pitch-black underneath, now also blocked by the covers he accidentally pulled with him when he bolted off the bed and had fallen on the side, blocking half of the view. Though one box suddenly shook, and he focused the light on that particular spot.

He wanted to scream, to call for Connor and his dad to come and help him, but a lump got stuck in his throat, and he found himself unable to let out even a moan, fearing that if he did, it would provoke the creature to attack him. He had seen Tommy Weaving, his classmate next door back home, got mauled by their tiny house cat, and he had to have stitches on both of his cheeks. Jacob pictured himself in Tommy’s place, but he doubted he would go far enough to get eight stitches like Tommy did, ending up instead in a body bag. He thought about the door behind his back, calculated how far the doorknob was and how fast he had to be to open it without the creature getting to him first.

The thing under the bed knew he was planning all of these, Jacob was sure, probably watching him from the shadows, thinking of the many ways it would slice and dice his own throat and body. Jacob wanted to pee real bad, though he pictured how embarrassing it would be if he peed while being gutted. He shook the thoughts out of his head, realized his palms were clammy, and he was starting to sweat a lot.

Why in the hell am I thinking about this? Just do it, Jacob. Turn the doorknob and get the hell out of here!

Jacob swallowed the lump in his throat, slowed down his breathing as he put up a brave face. He looked at the spot where he thought the creature would be, wanting to show it that Jacob Ward was not afraid.

I am a Ward. It takes more than that to bring a Ward down.

Jacob planned to scream, yes, he would yell and roar at the top of his lungs, and he would alert Connor and Eli, and his father, and the others of the vile creature hiding underneath the bed. His death might give them enough time to run away. Yes, he would save them, and if he managed to get away, well, it’ll be an added bonus. He would come out a hero.

Pressing his back against the door, Jacob slowly stood with his right fisted at his side, ready to punch or claw at the creature lunging for him, while the other held his phone, aiming the light at the same spot. His legs were rubbery, but he tried nonetheless to get back up on his feet. The silence droned around him, could only hear his shallow breathing and his ribcage pummeled by his heart, urged him more not to act like a helpless child.

I’m twelve! He pressed on. No more baby stuff, Jacob. You can get the door.

Jacob shifted to his left without making a sound, felt the metallic doorknob sliding across his spine and back, and then rested pressing against his kidney, tried to muster the courage to turn around, grab the handle, and open the door.

He took another step…

And the floorboards creaked.

Jacob stopped.

The creaking sound grated against his ears, cutting some kind of cord hanging in the air, and for a second, his breath left him as if he dropped from an elevator.

The shoe box moved an inch forward.

It was the cartoonishly ruby eyes that Jacob saw first, cautiously peered out of its hiding spot. They were big and oval-shaped, went all the way up from its forehead and down to its chin, a stubby cupid nose protruded like a button at the center of its face, surrounded by a fuzzy, fluffy fur of red and blue, its nose bared nakedly pink.

The thing regarded Jacob warily, squinting against his flashlight. It raised its tiny twig-like arms up, spreading out its four slender fingers, but it didn’t shield its eyes from the beam of light at all. With its other hand, it slowly pushed the shoebox to the side, took two little tiny steps forward, and Jacob saw the rest of the creature.

It stood at least three inches tall, though its head was a little larger than its sparrow-like body, with stubby goat-like hind legs and the paws of a dog, smothered in the same colorful fur of its head. Huge floppy ears twice as big as its body were tucked back all the way to the floor like a veil, almost hiding its face. Behind the creature was the most beautiful thing Jacob had ever seen. Attached to its back were a pair of wings thrice as big as its frame, opening wide, almost translucent as the flashlight’s beam passed through its surface, like butterfly wings with jagged thorns at the tips connected by cartilages, blood vessels, veins, nerves, and other connective tissues, forming this bright myriad of circular and hexagonal shapes, peppered in an ocean blue and sunset-kissed hue.

But something was wrong.

The creature’s left wing was clipped, and as Jacob studied further, a bullet did it. While its right wing graciously fluttered, the left slacked to its side. The creature picked up its left wing with both of its tiny fingers, wrapped it across its body, and Jacob realized it used it the same way he did with the pillow, like a shield.

The creature cast his eyes up toward him again, cocked its head to the side as if studying him.

At first, Jacob’s mind instantly pictured the monkey-like monsters from the trees, but those didn’t have wings, and they had to crawl all the way down to eat the people hiding in the coffee shop. Second, the only monster in this hell-forsaken place he had seen with wings was the dragon, and last time he remembered, it wasn’t three inches tall. Both of those creatures had one thing in common: they attacked and killed people on sight right away.

But why was this one different?

It had perfectly cornered him with help so close yet so far away, and it had plenty of time to devour, ravage, or gut him in half as its talon-like thorns on the tip of its wings looked mighty sharp to slice his own flesh. But it didn’t. It made a hissed, soft gurgled noise, almost like a voice, nearly coherent in a sense that it sounded like some kind of foreign language.

Jacob had to get control of himself quickly, starting with his manic breathing, gasping, sucking in lungfuls, but he couldn’t get enough air. He tried slowing his breaths, held them in deep, though it only made his head dizzy, his peripheral vision winding down a dark tunnel. He found himself shaking, his rubbery knees returned, teetering back toward the floor. At the corner of his eye, he saw a pencil resting on top of a desk drawer, its point sharp enough to make someone bleed. He grabbed the handle, brandished it like a knife in front of him.

“Shoo!” Jacob exclaimed, though his voice came out as a hoarse whisper, fighting against his quivering nerves, jabbing the pencil in the air. “Shoo, you!”

But his voice, cutting through the silence permeating the room, was enough to send the creature scurrying back to its hiding place, ears tucked tightly back, eyes bulging out, like a spooked dog in the middle of the fourth of July.

Jacob was somewhat relieved, but that feeling lasted for a few seconds. It was scared of him, although he still saw the creature as creepy, keeping a side of caution as a bold fire lit inside him. He realized he’s breathing normally.

That fire led him toward the bed. Underneath it, the strange hissing, gurgling sound continued, though laced with a whining hum. He could start for the door. He had plenty of time to do so, but as if his legs had a mind of its own, urged by the creature’s sudden turn, pushed him down onto the floor, on his hands and knees, gripping the sharp pencil with his hand. He aimed the flashlight at the cave-black gloom, and there deep in the confined space, the creature trembled underneath its big ears and wings.

Jacob had never seen such a pitiful sight, a deep frown creased on his face.

For some reason that he could not point out, he dropped the sharp pencil on the floor and bent down lower. The creature pulled its wings apart like a partition, peering at him with curiosity.

“What are you?” Jacob blurted out loud.

The creature crawled away from him a little, stopped to study him again, more intrigued than fear clouding its eyes.

Then, the creature flapped its intact wing once, sending a puff of dust toward Jacob, stinging his eyes as the thing flew back, gliding to the other opening.

Jacob stumbled back, fervently rubbing his eyes as he dropped his phone. When he opened them, the creature was now standing on top of the bed, staring at him with its red, glowing eyes, tilting its head from side to side. It brought its hands behind its back, though its ears seemed to be floating in the air, spreading out and shifted like waves in the beach.

It didn’t attack him.

It brought its shoulders down, hunched over as if it was afraid to approach him.

“Are you gonna eat me?” Jacob asked it.

The creature merely tilted its head, took a step back.

“I’m guessing that’s a no?” Jacob asked again, though the thing didn’t give a coherent answer. “Crap. You can’t understand me, but you don’t want to eat me then.”

This time, the creature shook its head.

Jacob froze, eyed widened as a smile spread on his lips. “So you do understand me!” He clasped his free hand around his mouth in shock. This is unbelievable! Wait until Connor and Eli hear about this!

Jacob’s attention returned to the poor creature’s clipped wing again. “Did someone hurt you?”

The creature followed his gaze, looking at its injured wing. It regarded him once again, nodded.

“Someone shot you,” Jacob said as his thoughts geared, turning.

The creature didn’t answer this time, though it merely shrugged.

“But you can still fly, though not very good?”

Nodding.

“So you hid in here…”

The thing nodded again.

“But how? All the shutters are closed,” Jacob said, wondering. The creature might be three inches tall, but it’s not small enough to go past the others downstairs.

It paused for a second, its eyes fervently scanning the room, and it turned around to inspect the two windows across the room. Jacob walked deeper into the room, standing close to the foot of the bed, watching the little thing.

The creature focused on the window to the left, closed its eyes, and in a heartbeat, the drapes slowly parted, and the window shutters swayed open. The unmistakable click of the locks unlocking brought the window out as well with it. The winter air rushing into the room.

“Holy crap…” Jacob muttered, “You can do magic? A real one?”

The creature merely tilted its head.

Jacob’s phone chimed loudly—DU DUT—and the battery died, bathed him back in the darkness, alone with a peculiar magical creature he had never seen before.

With the light from the two moons streaming through the window, Jacob walked toward the bed, sitting by the bedpost.

“So…do you have a name?”

The creature stared at him with a blank expression.

“Uh, right. You can’t speak. Or maybe you do? Or not. Oh, I don’t know,” Jacob mumbled.

The thing took a cautious step forward, regarding him with interest.

“Do you want me to give you a name?”

Blank stare.

“Uh, alright. We had a dog named Max. He died a year ago, so I’ll name you after him.” Jacob paused. “Ah, hell. I don’t even know if you are a boy or a girl. But Max can be short for Maxine, and if a boy, short for Maxwell. Dad has a cousin named like that, and Connor was almost named—”

Suddenly, Jacob bolted up and scared the little thing away from him. He stared at the wall where the office was, thoughts of his father, and the others bombarded his memories, all the guns, and knives that surrounded them. He glanced at the creature then back to the wall.

Crap.

“If my dad finds you, he’ll kill you for sure! He tends to shoot things before he asks.”

The creature’s gaze never wavered.

“Kill. Dead. Deceased. Done for. Do you understand any of that? You need to leave this house, and out through that window.” Jacob pointed at it.

It regarded the window for a split second before its gaze returned to him.

“My dad and my brother will look for me soon, and when they find me, you can’t be seen near me at all.”

It spared a glance at the closed door, and before Jacob could protest, before he could shoo the creature out through the window, the creature wrapped its wings around its body…

And disappeared.

No. Camouflaged.

Jacob stared at the empty bed, gaping.

Then, it parted its wings away, revealing only the creature’s big-eyed face. Jacob didn’t know if it was smiling or grinning (as it had no mouth that he could see), but he was impressed.

“Alright,” Jacob said, smiling, “That’ll do.”

He heard the office door opening and closing shut; the meeting was finished.

Jacob gazed at the creature, brought his forefinger up to his lips, “Remember, silence and don’t be seen.”

The creature pulled its wings closed, and it disappeared again.

But a few seconds later, Jacob felt dog-like paws perched comfortably on his shoulders.