I barrelled down the stairs, my stomach dropping as soon as I saw the condition of the basement. The traps weren’t ready, and Trent was pacing back and forth, gripping his rusty brown hair.
“Shit, shit, shit! What’re we supposed to do now?” he asked me.
I found it hard to answer him. Our mission was pretty much suicide now. I mean, sure, we had weapons, but without any traps ready we had no plan of attack. My nose scrunched as I passed through the stream of foul smoke from the candle at the foot of the stairs.
“I don’t know, but we have to pull it together. That candle works fast, and the parents will be coming after us once they unblock the door.”
“Thanks for the reminder, captain obvious,” Trent grunted.
I swallowed my annoyance at his attitude and glanced over the traps in front of me. “Which traps take the least amount of time to set up?”
Trent scanned the messy floor and sighed. “The bear traps, I guess.”
“Alright, do that. But watch out for the door. If it appears, holler. I’ll move the camcorder somewhere safe. What’s our plan?”
“I don’t know, alright?” Trent stopped what he was doing for a moment, then breathed heavily. “If we can place the bear traps around the door when it appears, that should do some serious damage. Then I can shoot the bastard.”
“What if that doesn’t work?”
“Then it’s either stabbing the thing to death or lighting it on fire.” Trent nodded to the table by the landing to his left. On top was a bottle of lighter fluid.
I groaned internally. So it was either get stab-happy or burn my house to the ground. What great options. I glanced at the butcher knife in my hand. Let’s hope plan A works out. The last thing I wanted to do was fight a Reaper in close range given last time’s outcome.
A loud crash upstairs made Trent and I jump. Heavy footsteps echoed down to us, and my mother’s voice rang through like a bell as she pounded on the basement door.
“Gregory?” she called. “Gregory, please talk to me.”
I gawked at Trent and he waved me off. “Deal with it. Just don’t open the door.”
I walked over to the base of the stairs and made my way up, stopping just a few feet from the top.
“Gregory, I want you to open this door right now,” she said in a commanding tone.
“You know I can’t do that, not after what happened to Immy.”
“Honey, you don’t understand. We had to do it. Please, just let me in and we can talk this all over before anyone gets hurt.”
“Oh, so you just had to sacrifice her? Christ, Mom! You took a freaking paycheck to get rid of her. What else is there to explain? This is why we have to expose the Reapers. It’s time we fought back, time we end this.”
Trent cried out, “Greg, get your ass down here!”
My mom pounded desperately on the door. “Gregory, no! You don’t know what you’re doing!”
My mother’s shrieks faded as I reached the basement floor. Nothing was going to stop me; there was no turning back from this. I set the camcorder under the table to the left of the landing. Trent came up to me, armed with his rifle and several weapons dangling from a makeshift strap around his waist.
“I put the bear traps close to the door. You let me blast that fucker first, got it? Once I injure it enough we’ll both go to town on it and finish this. Okay?”
I gulped. “Uh, yeah.” I gripped my butcher knife harder, but my palms were getting sweaty so I wiped them on my pants.
I hesitantly looked at the strange door that had yet again appeared in the middle of my basement. It seemed the same as before. The same rickety gray vertical planks, the same black puffs of smoke curling from underneath, the same strange, eerie yellow-- Oh God.
“Trent, it’s coming!” I whispered frantically.
He gripped my shoulder. “This is it. Get to the right and take cover. I’ll attack it from here.”
I darted past the strange door, not daring to look at it, and hid behind a large covered couch. For several moments, all was silent in the basement. I could even hear my own unsteady breathing.
I poked my head out for a glance when the strange door swung open with great force. It slammed against the concrete wall as a tall, towering form ducked its head under the frame. It straightened and nearly touched the ceiling.
I tried to analyze the monster under its dark, tattered robes, but couldn’t tell if it was the same one that took Immy or not. Besides, I’d only seen one. Maybe they all looked the same. Regardless, my heart thundered in my chest like an overpowered piston. The monster stood in place, almost seeming uncertain of its surroundings. I guessed it was hoping for an easy kill. Think again, asshole.
With a snap of its head, the monster glared in my direction. I darted beneath my cover, willing myself not to breathe. Crap! What if it comes for me first? Our whole plan would be ruined.
“Hey, fuckface!” Trent called.
I peered over the covered arm of the sofa. The Reaper was now focused on Trent, who was standing ten feet away from it with his shotgun poised. A foot or two ahead of the Reaper were the first of the bear traps.
“Smile for the camera,” Trent sneered.
With a deep, monstrous growl, the Reaper lunged towards Trent only to stop dead in its tracks when one of the bear traps snapped closed with a crunching, metallic clang. The ear-wrenching shriek of pain that came from the monster nearly made me drop my knife. I covered my ears with a smile. So far so good.
However, my happiness was short lived. The Reaper continued to shriek and howl, and its body began to flail violently, like dead tree branches in a hurricane. A strange kind of static seemed to fill the air, and the hairs on my body stood on end. Without warning, the other nearby bear traps lifted in the air and launched of their own accord, followed by the one that had clamped onto its foot. I ducked my head, and they crashed against the far walls, clanging to the ground.
Luckily, none of them had been close enough to hit Trent or me, but my whole body quaked. What the hell was that? Could the Reaper move things with its mind? Jesus Christ, we had to kill this thing before it tried that again. I peeked my head out for another look.
Trent gawked at the monster. His face was pale, and I couldn’t blame him. He hesitated for just a moment before aiming his gun, but it was a moment the monster already had on him. Even with its limp, the Reaper slammed into him, sending him flying back. He hit the wall hard and fell to the ground, his shotgun clattering next to him. He didn’t move.
Shit, shit, shit. What was I supposed to do now? The monster had a crippled leg, but obviously it could still throw us around like rag dolls.
The monster limped rather casually towards Trent, its long spindly fingers reaching out towards him. My little sister’s face flashed in my mind.
I ran from my cover after the monster, rage coursing through my veins. I grabbed the butcher knife with both hands and leaped into the air. My knife plunged into the monster’s back almost effortlessly, and my weight sank the blade in even further as I dangled in the air.
The deafening bellow that came from the Reaper was excruciating, but I held firm as I hung above the ground, my blade dragging deeper. The monster spun around so fast I was flung into a column of cardboard boxes, which fell all around me, but my eyes were still focused on the beast. A gooey, black ooze dripped to the floor from where I’d stabbed it. The Reaper screeched and clutched awkwardly at the knife protruding from its back, but its spidery fingers couldn’t grip it.
Then slowly, the knife began to inch out of its back. I gaped at the spectacle before me. The Reaper really could move things with its mind. What exactly was this thing? Just before the knife pulled out fully, the blade caught on the Reaper’s robe.
In one swift supernatural motion, the knife went flying to a corner of the basement. The large hole it ripped in the robes stretched and tore, unraveling and sliding off inch by inch until it fell to the floor.
My breathing stopped as I took in the monster’s naked appearance. The Reaper’s gaunt, bony body was covered in huge, ripe boils. The flesh around them was so wrinkled I wondered how ancient this thing was. Its body gave off a rotten, sickening odor that made me cover my nose, even from ten feet away. I fought the vomit that threatened to come up.
I wanted to scream, I wanted to run. I wanted to burst through the basement window and let the shards bite into me. Anything to get me away from this god-awful freak.
The Reaper’s piercing yellow eyes sized me up and it gave a hideous growl, exposing several rows of jagged, broken teeth. In a split second, I was up and sprinting down the other side of the basement. As I ran, I pulled down anything I could get my hands on to slow the bastard down. A chair here, a table there, the old birdcage I’d mistaken for Immy a month ago. As I neared the far end of the basement, a loud clatter erupted and I spun around.
The Reaper was hunched over the birdcage, which was now half-destroyed and resembled a broken ribcage. A tingle of warmth spread through my chest. Its injuries were slowing it down, at least for now. I probably wouldn’t get another chance like this. I slipped around a tower of boxes to my left and allowed myself a deep breath.
Trent had said we had two options, stabbing it to death and … yes, burning it! But the lighter fluid he’d pointed out to me was on the other side of the basement. That meant getting past the Reaper in one piece.
I glanced around the stack of boxes. The Reaper was still resting against the birdcage, but its labored breathing had steadied a bit. I didn’t have much longer before it would come after me again.
I darted back out of sight. A number of chairs, couches, and other bulky items lined the way back towards Trent. If I could crawl under them, maybe I could get back to the lighter fluid and avoid the monster.
I glanced back the way I’d come where the monster was recovering. I gasped. The Reaper was gone, only the shattered remains of the old birdcage left behind. I stepped back. Where did it--
A flurry of inhumanely long fingers raked at me as the beast darted from the shadows. I stumbled on my own feet and landed on my butt, somehow avoiding the beast’s attack.
I half scrambled, half crawled back towards my escape, praying the Reaper wouldn’t get to me before I hit cover. By some stroke of luck, I made it under a large couch. I shuffled my way underneath, scrambling for the next cover. As soon as my feet cleared, I heard a splintering crash right behind me. Splinters of wood and fabric flew around as the couch broke into pieces with a wrathful shriek from the monster.
My pulse pounded in my ears. He was right behind me. I increased my pace as much as I could. With the clearing of each cover, my protection would go flying against the wall and ceiling with another otherworldly cry, each time closer than before. I thought for sure the Reaper would get me, but once I cleared the last of my cover, a large elevated sectional, I knew I was safe for at least the next few seconds. The item was large enough that it would be hard for anyone to move– including the beast, I hoped.
Once clear of the sectional I darted ahead, not looking back. Trent was still where he’d fallen, the shotgun in front of him. He was conscious, but looked extremely dazed. I dove for the lighter fluid and spun back around. The Reaper turned the corner and came at me with a wail.
I squirted the lighter fluid right at its face. The Reaper screamed and fell back, rubbing at its eyes with the corner of its hand. I continued spraying the fluid over it. This was it. But wait, I needed a lighter. Shit!
“Trent, give me your lighter! Trent, come on!”
I turned back briefly, and he fumbled with his pocket before handing me his zippo. By the time I looked back towards the monster, it was about to pounce. I clicked the flame on and tossed it.
The Reaper’s body erupted in flames. It cried out in pain and ran off, banging against the walls and flailing its long, spindly hands. I heard a loud crash then, but ignored it. Trent and I had to get out of here before the Reaper set the entire basement on fire.
“Trent, we’ve got to go, come on.”
I wrapped my arms around him and lifted with a grunt. He groaned, pushing against the wall for support with his uninjured hand.
“I think my arm is broken,” he muttered into my ear.
“It doesn’t matter. We’ve gotta get up those stairs.” I half-dragged Trent over to the stairs, everything drowned out by the terrible screams of the Reaper and my heartbeat throbbing in my head.
I guided him to the railing, then released him and pushed from behind. Looking up, I saw what the loud crash had been. My mom stood at the top of the stairs. She smiled at me before her face morphed into terror.
“Gregory, behind you!”
I spun back around. The Reaper was nearly on me, its yellow eyes glaring through the flames that licked its skin. I freaked, and in my haste to climb away from it, my feet tangled on themselves. I fell with a thud. I tried to crabwalk up, but it was right on me. It was too late.
The Reaper raised a long, flaming hand to strike, and then another loud bang came from behind me. A small crater appeared right between the monster’s eyes, and black ooze poured out of the wound in a steady river. Its eyes were vacant as it wavered back and fell to the concrete, unmoving.
I glanced back, shocked. My mom had a revolver in her hand, still fixated on the collapsed monster. “Mom?”
Mom lowered her weapon and smiled sadly. “Are you alright?”
“I’m fine,” I growled, remembering her part in all this.
She frowned and looked up the stairs with a wave. “All clear down here.”
Two men came barrelling down the stairs, one holding a fire extinguisher. They passed my mom and gathered around the monster hesitantly. One pulled out a gun and shot it several more times in the head. The other doused the creature and nearby items that had caught fire.
I felt sick to my stomach, but tried to contain myself. I glanced around, puzzled. “Where’s Trent?”
“Your dad is upstairs bandaging him up and explaining what’s happening.”
“What do you mean? We already know what the adults in town have been doing, what you’ve been doing.”
Mom sat down on the stair next to me. She tried to put a hand on my shoulder, but I flinched. “I guess I deserve that based on what you already know, but it’s not what you think.”
“Oh yeah? I know you sacrificed Immy to those freaking monsters. You took money after letting the Reaper kill her.”
“You’re right about the money. I can’t even begin to tell you how sorry I am for that. But Gregory, this is the way of the world. The Order has had this system in place for decades. Fighting them on this …” She looked away. “It wasn’t an option. But when I saw that beast ... I couldn’t just let it take you too. And now I fear we’ve opened Pandora’s box.”
“What do you mean?”
Mom opened her mouth to answer, but a blood-curdling scream sounded from far away. “No,” she whimpered, her voice shaky. She got to her feet and charged up the stairs, and I followed her.
When we got upstairs, Dad was standing with Trent behind the living room curtains peeking outside.
“George, how bad is it?” Mom asked.
Dad turned around and simply shook his head. Mom’s face lost all color, and she bolted to the front door, yanking it open and running outside.
“Patricia!” Dad yelled after her.
I followed after Mom, darting down the driveway to catch up with her. The sight before me brought tears to my eyes. The street was in complete chaos. Numerous bodies littered the lawns of nearby houses, some moving slowly, some not at all.
Across the street, a woman was fighting off another Reaper with a long knife, but she was losing the battle. She saw us, and waved frantically. “Help me!”
The Reaper knocked the knife from her hands and put its long spindly fingers around her head. Our neighbor’s face loosened, then deadened as her face drained to a dead gray. The Reaper released its grip on her and she fell to the ground like a rock.
Mom said something, but I couldn’t hear her. All of this, it was happening because of Trent and I. We thought we knew everything, but … we had started a war.
Mom grabbed my shoulders and gave them a shake. “Gregory, inside. Now.”
The Reaper across the street saw us and headed our way.
Warm tears ran down my cheeks as we withdrew inside. “What have we done?”