TWELVE

The boy ran into the library. He could only hope his suspicion was correct. He’d been thinking earlier about what came first; the Otherwordly as entities or the dark thoughts of Kingsbury. Did he put down their stories or did they come to life through his stories. When the smaller creature seemed to die in the library that was just after a bullet had hit one of Kingsbury’s books. That fueled the boy’s crazy theory. The theory that indeed, Kingsbury’s stories had birthed the monsters in the building. He had no way to explain how. If Kingsbury had some sort of strange powers, or if some creatures from another dimension latched onto the books and became full-formed through them. He just knew that he had to try if he was right if he was to save Baxter and the rest of the town.

He took a grenade from the bag, pulled the pin and hurled it at the books in the library. An explosion shred the books to pieces, pages flying through the room.

*

Baxter fired a round from his 9mm at the creatures climbing the tree. He only had a few more left in his handgun. With the AR-15 already empty he seemed to be at the mercy of the Otherworldly. He hit one of the creatures in the eye. The creature hissed as it exploded. Another round barely missed the eye and hit it in the head. The monster wailed instead of hissed this time.

Baxter was surprised. He hadn’t expected the bullet to do that much damage. He got ready to fire again when the other creature’s foreleg tore at his leg. He felt its raptorial foreleg tear into his flesh. He gritted his teeth, not wanting to give that foul thing the satisfaction of hearing him scream. He lost his balance and fell down the tree. He tried to grab some branches and he managed to slow down his fall with them. With a thud the landed on his back.

He watched the monsters move down the tree, eager to get at him. He tried to get up, aim his gun but the pain in his back was too much.

*

The boy threw another grenade at the bookcase. More paper littered the room. There was a strange dark mist coming from the bookcase now. At first the boy figured it was smoke from the explosion. Now he saw the smoke was thicker… It was almost liquid. Almost alive. The mist seemed to travel towards him, reach out to him. The room filled with a strange whistling sound that hurt his ears. Although he lacked fear, he had enough of a survival instinct to understand he had to prevent the mist from reaching him. He stepped back, throwing two grenades at once. The grenades totally tore apart the bookcase, leaving nothing of it anymore. It had left a large hole in the wall behind it. In the hole seemed to be whole sky of stars. Not any formations he’d ever seen though. He threw a grenade right into it as the mist started to circle him. He had trouble breathing as the mist seemed to try and suffocate him.

The grenade in the hole exploded. The mist dissipated, the whistling ended, leaving the boy tired and bewildered. And still utterly fearless.

*

The creatures had surrounded Baxter. He tried to will his arm to move so he could shoot those bastards. He just couldn’t. He could feel mandibles touching his leg. They felt cold and sharp. This was it. He’d managed to survive the horrors of Afghanistan but not this Otherworldy horror. June would miss him so bloody much. He hoped she would find the courage to go on with her life.

The anticipated shredding of his legs by the mandibles of the monster didn’t come. They were just gone. Leaving only a wisp of smoke that was blown away by the wind. Where were they? Had the boy been successful in his mission, whatever it had been?

“Sheriff! I think we did it!”

The boy came running, full of that incredible energy he seemed to exude.

“I think you did indeed…” Those were the last words Baxter uttered before everything went dark.