It was like being swallowed by a monstrous Beast beyond their comprehension.

The moment they stepped foot into the valley, the moon was swallowed by darkness, and there was nothing to see beyond the limited range of their ball friend. The wind rustled and howled like nothing they had heard before, stirring up leaves and disturbing the shrubs around, all of it pulsing to the same beat as if it were breathing. As for the trees, they don’t represent any trees they knew, as they seem completely bare of bark or limbs, shooting upwards into the dark above so their tops, if they have any, are completely unseen.

Beyond the howling wind, the valley is completely silent. No animals, no people, not even their elusive Demon friend. Every step they took echoed off the high-rising mountain walls like repeated gunfire, every snapped stick resembling a bomb going off. These feelings came from a couple places: a fear of what may hear them, a fear of what they themselves can’t hear, and even a feeling as if making sound was disturbing something sacred. There was something about their surreal location and situation that made this place almost feel hallowed in some way. Still, neither say anything, even the unseeable and unhearable Elizabeth.

Will’s heart has recently made a habit of assaulting his chest in a most brutal manner. He had occasionally read a scary story here and there that might have freaked him out a little (okay maybe the one about the faceless man stealing children kept him up a few nights) but he had never known a fear like this. The kind of fear that breathes down his neck, tickles at his spine, clenches his heart with many-clawed fingers. It was this fear he felt launching himself from a collapsing ship, discovering everyone he knew to be gone, and to be just underneath the shadow of creatures breathing death. And now he feels the oppression of absolute and inescapable darkness, with only his incorporeal sister and a questionably sentient glowing soccer ball as company.

As for Elizabeth, the most surreal thing to her is the fact that she no longer has a heart to pound.

They walk in the vacuum of space for what feels like hours, though it truly only lasts around 20 minutes. The wind picks up Will’s cloak, dragging it behind him as he shudders from the caress of the night air. It’s always in these realms of dark that he feels watched; unseen eyes poring over him from the ink beyond each tree. His head swivels this way and that, analyzing every bush, every tree, every out of place sound, constantly under the expectation that there is something hiding, watching, preying.

“You alright?”

It was only a whisper, yet it practically sent him launching out of his skin. He glares up at Elizabeth, who’s busy stifling a snort, accusingly. “I’ll take that as a yes.” Will scowls and returns to his sweeping of the area as they trod onwards. “Ah’m just… nervous. Never been a fan a th’ dark,” he whispers. “Never know what could be ou’ there.” His hands begin jittering, sending involuntary shudders up his arms and through his shoulders, so he clasps them together to keep them under control. He draws his cloak tighter around his body, as if the heaviness of the leather could guard him from the imaginary devils haunting his mind.

Something moves.

He caught it just out of the corner of his eye, a quick rustle of a bush without a wind to disturb it. Immediately, his mind sets to work creating an infinite number of horrors that could be hiding within; distorted, broken faces with grins too big to be real poke out from every shadow, sending his heart into a frenzy as he feels his legs lock up. He can’t move.

“Will, what’s up with you?” Elizabeth asks, startling him again. He twists over to his sister, worry covering her face. He doesn’t know how to answer, somewhat embarrassed over his reactions to the smallest details, and he opens his mouth, planning to answer, before he notices the figure standing behind her that had been watching them this entire time.

There’s a quiet plong as the ball hits the ground, sending the forest into blackness.

Will immediately dives for the ball, desperately picking it up and swinging it around, casting its weak glow against the trees. There’s no sign of any figure. “Will, look at me!” Elizabeth cries. He turns around to face her, the dampened light of the ball forming strange shadows across her face, distorting it to the point of looking misshapen and wrong… or maybe that was just his nerves.

He takes a moment to breathe, getting himself under control. His shoulders tremble, his jagged shudders jerking the ball in his hands around, sending wild, twisting shadows across the forest. “Elizabeth, I think there’s someone here. I-I saw someone watchin’ us,” he “whispers,” but with how loud he speaks he might as well have screamed into the treetops. Elizabeth furrows her brow, looking down at him with concern, conflicted over the possibilities of him being right or wrong. If he’s right, then there’s major cause for worry, but if not, well, she’s more worried for his mental stability. It’s already been a rough night, but he’s also been prone to seeing “things” in the night that really aren’t there.

She steps forward to console him, reaching her arms towards him, saying “Will,” under her breath. But she doesn’t see the face behind her head. He does.

Will stumbles back, his heart freezing. “Elizabeth, behind you! Move!” he shouts, his hand shooting out and pointing at the creature behind her. Elizabeth whirls around, her eyes rolling across the grass and seeing nothing. She looks over her shoulder at her trembling brother, her concern only growing. “Will, there’s nothing there.”

What the hell. Nononono, there was something there, he saw it. He saw stringy, matted grey hair, sagging flesh, sunken eyes and yellowed teeth in a twisted grin. He saw it. Why didn’t she? How could Elizabeth just stand there while that… thing was breathing down her neck?!

“Will, you’re starting to worry me…” Elizabeth says, attempting to soothe him. “Maybe we should go back… After all, the ball’s stopped moving.” She approaches him, thinking of some way she can help without being able to touch him.

His mind continues racing as he tries to figure out what’s going on… when he feels something brush against his cloak.

A thin, greyed hand lays four long, spindly fingers on his shoulder.

A disgusting stench fills his nose, one he’s almost certain he’s smelt before.

A shuddering rasp fills his ear.

Devil~boyyyyyy~

He makes tracks.

He rips his shoulder away from the claws of the creature and bolts off into the forest, leaving his sister well behind. As she stands there, dumbfounded, still not knowing what the hell is going on with him, she feels her throat tighten. An invisible force suddenly yanks her off her feet by the throat and drags her into the forest, her body limply trailing through the air behind her brother.

Meanwhile, Will soars through the trees, jumping over roots, tripping through bushes, the forest slowly thickening with each step. But as he heads deeper and deeper into the woods, that stench from before only grows in intensity. It fills the air, sending thick gulps of rancid breath down his already straining lungs. It’s like trying to inhale soup. Yet still, he runs. He can only think of running. Just get away. A part of him is ashamed by his cowardice, but the rest of him, now completely under the control of screaming animal instinct, just screams run. Ignore your aching lungs, ignore your straining legs, just put as much distance between you and whatever the hell as fast as possible.

The plan goes smoothly right until the ground drops out from beneath his feet.

He hits the ground with a thunderous crash, rolling over roots and shrubs and leaves as he eventually comes to a halt. He groans, sitting up against the trunk of a tree he landed in front of. “Dad-frickn-gummit…” he mumbles as he clambers to his feet. A couple feet away, some tree roots had pushed up against the ground he had previously been running across, before suddenly dropping off for him to fall down. Lovely. He bends down, snatching the ball up off of the ground and using it to illuminate his surroundings.

Once he does, he catches a glimpse of Elizabeth tumbling through the air, passing through the tree behind him and disappearing from view. He dashes around the tree, catching sight of his sister’s crumpled body on the forest floor, and rushes to her side. She groans much like he did, pushing off of the ground and glaring through her messy hair at Will. “You alright…?” he asks dumbly. Her glare persists. “Well, at the very least I don’t have any bones left to break. However, I also for a moment apparently lost all oxygen to breathe,” she snaps, before climbing to her feet. Will follows her up, and she looks down at him, returning to her “concerned big sis” mode. “Will, you need to tell me what’s going on. You can’t just run off like a madman, dragging me along, without any explanation!”

“Th-there was somethin’… A woman, she smiled, she… she called me…” he stammers, word soup pouring from his mouth as he tries to understand what’s happening himself.

Devil~boyyyyyyy~

He freezes once more, slowly turning around to face the distorted mockery of Creation before him.

She bears the face of Ms. Lingham, but her smile… God, her smile… It’s too big for her face. Her lower jaw seems to lower more and more just to make room for it, and he swears he can even see the skin tearing on the sides. That disgusting odor emanates from her mouth in a whirling burst of fetid breath. He stumbles back, his head going light and dizzy from the force of its scent. He passes through Elizabeth, who’s still staring at him, completely bewildered, officially coming to the conclusion that her brother is either incredibly dramatic or totally off his rocker.

Ms. Lingham’s mouth doesn’t move when she speaks.

Oh, little Devilboy…Do you know it feels… to have bugs… crawling… under your skin?

To have them… climb up your ribcage?

Dance on your heart?

Swim in the juices of your brain?

Without even moving a single muscle, she crosses the space between her and Will, through Elizabeth, and into Will’s face, her smell overtaking his entire world.

Do you know how it feels to lose everything you ever loved, and then not even remember what it was you lost?

He doesn’t know what to say to that.

She cackles, her arms extending to the air above and spinning in a circle, her very tippy toes barely touching the ground. She spins and spins and spins, before stopping, thrusting her arms to her sides. Her eyes are wild, her jaw drops further, and-

A long, thick, sharp claw burst from her chest, stopping her mad laughter short. Then another. And another. Then five more. With each claw launching from her insides, a thick, black goop splatters across the ground. The smell magnifies. Will’s head throbs.

The madwoman’s face doesn’t budge, her expression of pure insanity remaining as she slowly falls onto her back, the eight claws falling limply to her sides.

A glob of the disgusting liquid splattered across his face, and he lifts a hand up to wipe it off. He suddenly remembers where he’s smelled this before: that ship. There was a black stain on the wall, impossibly dark, and it smelled just like this, just much less powerful. He faintly wonders what the connection is, but he’s too busy trying to comprehend a single bit of what’s been going on.

“Will, what is that-”

Elizabeth’s words are immediately cut off by an incredible shriek. It fills their heads, both of theirs, reverberating in their skulls and sending spikes through their brains. It’s a sound most similar to TV static, but it’s not like they know what that is. The sound continues for a few more seconds, though it feels like an eternity.

Until it stops, the shriek replaced by a giggle.

Will, his head in between his knees, his forehead to the ground, and his hands planted firmly over his ears, slowly looks up from the dirt and to the shuddering body of Ms. Lingham. The giggling is coming from her. Her crumpled form jolts and pulses, the claws that pierced her torso now twitching. “Will…” Elizabeth whimpers shrilly. “What in the name of God is that?” Will looks up to her incredulously. “Now you see it?!”

He doesn’t have time to continue, as the creature before them has begun to really move. Each of the eight claws lift from the ground before stabbing down, piercing the earth and pushing up, the old lady’s body being limply held up. The new abomination turns itself around.

Ms. Lingham’s body hangs from her chest by eight long, segmented legs, each with a piercing claw at the end. Her smile only seems to grow wider, and though her head swings upside down, her jaw defies gravity by being held only by a string of flesh keeping itself connected to the rest of her face, yet still somehow hanging wide open in her distorted grin.

The siblings take this horrific sight in, all of the gruesome details, all of its disgusting features, and all Will has to say is, “I hate spiders.”