The mayor observed around him as if he were to find what he was looking for in the trees. He had spent some time digging in the sandy soil. All he found were displaced fire ants and grubs that tried to flee from the cool air.

It was colder outside than he had expected, and it caused him to shiver a bit.

The mayor stood over the hole he had dug. He was a bit frustrated to realize that what he had buried was no longer there. He should have picked a better spot. Reaching through the collar of his jacket, he grasped a gem that hung around his neck and examined it. The black color seemed to shine in the light of the moon that peered through the clouds.

He looked back up to a dead branch. In it sat a hideous site. It was the size of an owl, with the head of a newborn, four legs, deep red skin, and a long and thin neck. The mayor looked at it in disgust. Hopefully, they weren’t all that ugly, he thought.

He stretched out his arms, then began to wave the gem in front of himself.

“At least I know this does have an effect,” he spoke, seemingly talking to the creature in the branches.

It clicked and backed away.

Stepping back, the mayor mumbled to himself. “Now, to find my stolen shit.”

Terry and Bella fumbled through the woods. They shared a can of uncooked beans and discussed something that resembled a plan.

“Well, the clouds seem to circle the circle of town,” Bella had said.

They had concluded that, because of the way the rain calmed and got stronger, depending on where Cadence was, it was likely that where the clouds circled was where their enemy was. Afterward, the two packed whatever else they could grab and began walking.

Terry led the way. That was the least he could do, he thought, for her help. His eyes had adjusted to the dark, but some things were still hard to see. They came to a circular clearing with a dried-up pond. Terry recognized it. He had come there with an umbrella multiple times around a year ago. It filled up during the rainy months, but throughout the rest of the year, it would be full of mosquito-infested, algae-filled water until it dried up. To his surprise, his favorite log wasn’t devoured by termites yet. The tree above blocked out some of the rain.

“Wanna take five?” Terry asked.

Bella nodded.

It was well after midnight now, and the both of them had been going strong for a while. Any sort of break would be beneficial at this point.

The two passed a water bottle back and forth while taking slow sips.

Terry felt the cut on his face. It had scabbed over in the last few hours.

“Hey, look,” Bella got his attention.

There was rustling in a bush across the clearing from them.

Terry grabbed his machete and Bella readied her knife.

He asked. “Who’s there?”

A head popped from the bush. The two relaxed. It was only a deer.

Bella let out a breath. “Aw, it’s just a deer.”

Terry stared at it as it slowly crept through the bush. He began to tense up again.

“Hey,” Terry spoke. “When was the last time you saw any living animal? Especially deer.”

Bella rubbed her chin. After a short moment, she answered, “come to think of it, it’s been a while.”

“That’s not a deer.”

The deer was fully out of the bush and it stood on its hind legs and began to walk toward them. It licked its lips as if it were preparing for a meal. Its eyes were piercing slits in its skull.

It spoke to Terry in an airy voice and waved out its human-like fingers. “Come to me.”

“Let’s go,” Bella said.

The two hopped up and began dashing in the direction they needed to go. It followed.

Bella yelled, “run!”

Terry could feel his ankle slowing him down. The demonic deer was right behind him. If he stopped, it would get him.

He spat out curses. Bella hopped over a fallen log. Terry reached the log, but couldn’t jump over.

The deer demon grabbed him. It began laughing with Terry’s head in its hands. His machete was still in his hands. He clenched his eyes shut and swung around, swinging the machete as hard as possible. There was a splash and thud like swinging a butcher knife down onto meat. The creature's laughter slowed.

Terry opened his eyes. The deer fell to the ground, clenching its chest where a vapor was expelling from.

He took two steps back. It wasn’t dead.

It spoke in a goofy voice and wriggled its fingers toward him. “We’re all coming for you.”

Terry did something he didn’t expect himself to do. He stood over it and began stabbing the machete into the creature's chest over and over again. He kept stabbing, stabbing, stabbing, spilling the creatures urine colored blood everywhere. Each plunge to spill its flesh was not enough, and he would stab again in hopes of satisfaction. Again. More. More. More.

“Terry!”

He paused to look at Bella. She was creeping over the log with wide eyes.

“Stop. It’s dead.” She said.

Terry looked back at the creature. It was a pulp of disfigured flesh scattered around the forest floor. The vapor coming off its body was nauseating. He stepped back and wiped his face. He was crying.

“I–” He tried to speak, but the second any words came out of his mouth, he began vomiting beside the log.

Michael would have been blinded by bright lights when the mask was removed, but it was dark and damp where he was forced to stand. There was a dripping sound near a corner of the room and growling in another direction. He took a breath of what he was hoping to be fresh air, but the stench of rotting fish, blood, and corpses singed his nose hairs.

He tried to lift his hand to rub his eyes, but his hands were tied around his back. He looked at the woman that sat in front of him.

Michael spoke. “You.”

At that moment, Cadence truly embodied a carefree attitude. She leaned on the armrest of the chair with her legs crossed. She bounced her top leg up and down slowly.

They were in the City Council building on Main Street. Michael could tell by the cracking linoleum floors and poor lighting.

“Yes.” She said. “You are not the boy I’m looking for.”

Michael creased his brows. He was beginning to grow annoyed. Everything seemed to get in his way of stopping Terry.

“What do you want?” Michael asked.

She disregarded his question. “Hmm. You might do, though.”

“What?”

“How would you feel about killing the boy who caused your mother to die?”

Michael stared at her, but his mind wasn’t focused on her. An image of his mother’s mutilated body flashed in his mind. He thought about how everything had to revolve around Terry. He thought about how much his head ached and how tired his body was. He thought about the gun he still had hiding in the belt loop of his pants.

“I wouldn’t be against that.” He answered.

She licked her lips and gave a little grin. “Wonderful. I have a deal for you, then.”