You weren't entirely sure what the error message in front of you was meant to say. Something about the person you were trying to contact not existing anymore...? The font was practically unreadable, and no matter how hard you squinted, it didn't get any easier to read.

You were trying to respond to the message Jack had sent you while you were out at the museum filling in for Bobbie while he was out at a funeral. It was your first time helping to arrange a display for the local prep school's field trip, so in your excitement, you left your phone in the car. You only checked it once you were parked outside your house, and you were starting to regret not checking it earlier, since there was also about nine different messages from Greg about Jack going missing.

greg:

Have you spoken to Jack recently?

We had a fight a few days ago, and he hasn't spoken to me since.

He left really abruptly this morning, and I can't get a hold of him.

I'm really worried about him.

If he's with you, please tell me.

Call me when you can alright?

(Y/N), I know you're busy, but I think this is serious.

I heard about the accusations from your partner at the party—about the murder, cannibalism, and the stalking. Gia, your coworker, told me about it.

I think Jack's in trouble, and I need your help to find him. He isn't in custody, so who knows where he's gone.

The messages were, needless to say, enough to send you into a blind panic. With trembling fingers, you managed to press the button to call Greg, who picked up nearly instantly.

'What do you mean Jack's missing?' you demanded.

He sounded as stressed as you felt—exhausted and unnerved. 'I can't find him. We have each others locations shared on our phones, and his phone is nowhere. It's like it doesn't exist. There's some weird error message that keeps coming up but I can't actually read it.'

'Can you send me a screenshot? I think I know which error message you're on about. I've been trying to respond to a message, but I get a weird error too.'

'Did he message you? What did he say?'

'He was asking where I was.' If only I'd had my phone with me. Maybe this wouldn't be happening. 'I left my phone in the car so I didn't see it until like, five minutes ago.'

'He didn't mention that he was going somewhere?'

'Nope.'

'Damnit.'

Something flashed in your wing mirror, and the back of your neck tingled like it was being stared at. It was easy to recognise such an oppressive, otherworldly gaze, and all of your nerves picked 'flight' despite common sense reminding them that you had asked for this.

Your voice shook on its own accord as you said, 'Hey, Greg? I'm gonna go. I'll have a look around the forest to make sure he isn't lost.'

'Sounds good. I'll drive around and see if I can find anything. See you.'

You didn't respond to his farewell, hanging up and getting out of the car, not looking the seven foot tall monster that loomed a few feet away.

'You're late,' you managed to say.

''

'Your...daughter's missing?' you repeated. 'You have a daughter?'

''

You shook your head. 'I've been having memory problems recently.'

'' Static filled your ears, and you guessed that No-Face sighed. ''

'Who're you calling a child?!'

''

'How do you know? you asked, glaring at No-Face with narrowed eyes and crossed arms. 'Can you read minds? Have you been reading my thoughts?'

''

'I wish I didn't. You know I know who he is, anyway. You interrupted the ritual. Why're you asking me this now?'

''

You paused, the words fermenting in your brain like a fine wine as you tried to comprehend what No-Face had just told you. Struggling to find the right words, you said, 'What do you mean?'

''

'No, no, I was, I just...don't understand. Why would I do that?'

''

'Mr Nichols? You mean Jack?'

''

That made your eyes widen. 'What else did I say? What else happened? Tell me!'

',' No-Face snapped. ''

'Fine; tell me please.'

''

'Nope.'

''

'If I don't remember it, then it's null. Also, it wasn't in writing, and I didn't undo the ritual. Chernabog did. So there.' You grinned smugly, not caring the edge of your vision blurred with static as No-Face's irritation level rose like a river after a storm. 'Anything else you want to tell me?'

''

'I do. Hey, since you're here, do you know where Jack is? We can't find him either.'

If No-Face had, well, a face, then he would have looked surprised. ''

'Not originally, but yeah. My original thing was about my friend. They know about what Jack did while he was a proxy, but don't know how they know.'

'.'

'Tell me about it. So? Can you help?

No-Face gave a half-hearted attempt at shrugging. His shoulders weren't really designed for it. '.'

'But why would a demon want to interfere with Socks?' you wondered. 'It's not like they ever got involved with proxies; I did.'

''

'I have no idea.'

''

'You're leaving?'

'' For the first time ever, you saw No-Face lift his arm and place his abnormally long, bony fingers on the top of your head. The gesture was (shockingly) soft. He didn't press down on your head and make it throb, nor did he curl his fingers around your neck and chin. Instead, he merely raised his hand and patted your head a couple of times before vanishing.

Your skull tingled for a few seconds after he left, the ghost of the skeletal mitt slowly fading away. Blinking, you unlocked your phone in a daze and called Greg yet again. (Too much had happened in a short space of time, there was no way in hell you were going to type all of it down.)

'What's up? You found something?'

'Do you know anything about a wooden shack in the woods I live in? I don't have time to explain; I really really need to look inside this shack.'

'I don't know where it is exactly, but there's one on the edge of the forest. Hang on, I have a screenshot, gimme a second.' He murmured to himself under his breath as he searched for aforementioned screenshot, leaving you to twiddle your thumbs impatiently until he said: 'There, I've sent you it.'

'Cool. Thanks, by the way—I'll let you know if I find anything. I'm not entirely sure what's meant to be in there, but you live and hope, I guess.'

'Be careful though, alright? I'm not telling Jack that you're dead when he comes back. I can't deal with him moping around for the rest of his life.'

'I'm not gonna die, relax. It takes a lot than some creepy old cabin to kill me.'

I can't believe that's not an exaggeration, you thought grimly, since I literally survived a cult ritual that you'd find in an Alfred Hitchcock movie.

'The cabin might not kill you, but something in it could. For the love of God, just look after yourself. If you don't promise me, I'm going to drive down there and drag you home.'

'Wow, you're way more persistent than I thought you would be. I get it, I'll be careful. Can I go now, Dad, or do you have another lecture prepared for me if I cut my finger?' You were smiling, of course, but a tiny part of you was daring Greg to argue. No matter what he said, you would search that wooden shed until every plank was free of dust and grime—fully searched.