Chapter 16

Erin stood and braced herself against the rotting wooden framework of the farm stable.  Jacob’s excitement was the spark of adrenaline she needed to bite back the pain of her aching muscles.  She could not remember at first how she came to be so sore all over, from her calf muscles to her shoulders, but she was in rough shape. 

Jacob was standing beside her, holding her up and balancing the force of her weight against his own.  He was panting heavily and she felt within her, her own excitement starting to grow. 

Jacob led her through the old barn, back in the direction of the small room in the northern corner.  There was a series of scattered farm tools and excess wood, rotted and warped with age, stacked near the side wall.  The rain seemed to be letting up, but nearly everything within the musty barn was wet and damp with the numerous leaks from the old roof above. 

With each step towards the gaping black hole her excitement grew. 

Jacob set her down near the side of the door and fumbled in the darkness for a few moments before reappearing with a lantern and a box of matches.  He lit the fuel and a soft orange and yellow glow danced off of the sunken walls of the old barn. 

There was now an eerie macabre look to the place. It was no longer a disheveled and dilapidated structure, but now took on a more realistic and all-be-it feature that made the whole of the empty darkness spring to life under the lamp-light.  Erin watched as the soft glow of Jacob’s lamp entered the room as she braced herself on the doorway and stared on disbelief. 

“Is that really what I think it is?” Erin said, her eyes wide open with excitement and disbelief.

“Well I think it’s a boat.”  Jacob said, with a sincere and also wry expression of sarcasm. 

“Do you think it will float?”

She watched as Jacob lifted the side of the boat up and off of the wooden frame.  Although the tarp took a hit from the weather and damp air of the barn’s interior, the boat seemed preserved and without age, as it hit the ground with a loud and sullen thud.  Erin watched as Jacob inspected the sides and joints, looking for any signs of damage or procurements of a possible leak. 

“I think it will.  It looks to be in good shape, though I do not know for sure until we put her on the water.”

The boat was not large, though it sported a small sail in the middle that was controlled by a long pole, attached to the rear rudder.  It was just big enough for them both, and almost seemed too perfect. 

She saw Jacob carefully run his fingers over the wood, as if he was remembering some detail from his past that alerted him to such a vessel, though his brows were bent in a way that told Erin it was just out of his reach or train of thought. 

Jacob set the lamp on a small table and as he did so, the light caught the faint glimpse of a small figure outside the room, standing just inside of the rear-most stable.

Erin’s breath caught in her throat when the sudden realization of where they were, what had happened and what they had chosen to ignore was just feet from the barn door. 

“Jacob?”  Her voice was a sullen and coarse wisp of air behind her obvious fear and loss of self control. 

Jacob looked up and caught her gaze, and quickly lifted the light to provide a better angle of view from where they stood.  Jacob went out into the barn and began searching into each of the stalls, but coming back with a slight shrug of the shoulders. 

“I think we need to get this boat down to the water, but first, I think we need to find out which way the water is from here.  I don’t know about you, but I want to get as far away from this damned house as possible and as soon as possible.” 

There was a rear exit to the room that housed the boat, and after a few moments of prying the door swung open with a dusty cloud following behind.  There were the remnants of a path that led deep into the jungle behind, but one that had obviously grown over with undergrowth and tiny trees. Jacob stepped out into the jungle air, and took a deep breath.  The dampness and mustiness of the barn was difficult to breath, and the fresh crispness of the outside weather was welcomed with serenity.

They used a series of rolling logs to bring the boat out into the air and began dragging it along the path, which luckily was a steady and slightly declining path that seemed to slope down towards the valley below. 

The trek was long and harsh, and although Jacob had managed to find a nearly rusted machete sitting inside the tiny shed, there were numerous smaller trees that lined the path that made the venture slow and painful.  When darkness arrived, they had made it nearly a half mile in total.  The boat itself was on bracers that held it upright, but the constant adding of rounded logs in front of the boat made the trek slow.

Jacob sat down and took a small inventory of what they had available.  As the shadow of the house on top of the hill stood, outlined by the setting sun, Jacob knew that it was best to press on.   Erin shared in his thoughts, and he did not need to speak them aloud. 

They left the boat and chose to proceed on foot, using the lantern they found in the old barn as a means of traveling after the sun set behind the distant hills.  Jacob’s breathing was calm and quiet, though Erin’s was far from either.  She knew that if the lantern’s light were to fade or dissipate, that the things hunting them would undoubtedly find them and rip them apart. 

The trees swayed nearby, giving proof to her theory.  Shadows danced along the brush and undergrowth, shortly followed by the putrid smell of rotten meat.  Jacob turned and acknowledged that she was still following, and took her hand in his, pulling her close. 

She couldn’t put a finger on her emotions for Jacob, though she knew it was more than infatuation.  She trusted him, relied on him, and knew that he would do whatever it took to get them off of this island.  His hand was warm, comforting and the heat resonating off of his sweat-soaked body sheltered her slightly from the chilling night air of the island atmosphere. 

She stared at him, focused on his movements and her own, and chose to ignore the obvious sounds of the creatures following close by.  An hour passed and although the trek was slow, they had traveled to a clearing, bordering an inlet just yards from the ocean’s waves.  Jacob set the lantern down and gathered some nearby branches for a fire. 

He kept his eyes roving in all directions, testing the distance the creatures could come within the light of the lantern and was sure to stay out of the shadows of the nearby trees and brush.  Soon they were sitting, watching the fire that was blazing, and as the fire grew in strength, the sounds of the forest close by faded. 

Jacob sat staring at the fire, obviously troubled by something or confused, both of which seemed to bear the same vibrant expression on his face.  She knew the things that had happened were not something anyone was accustomed to witnessing.  Whatever existed on this island was an evil unlike any she had ever heard of in the reality she once knew as dull and monotonous.  Her sense of adventure and need for something more in life had led her to the most dangerous place on the planet, and the saddest part was that she now wished she could turn back time and have never made these wishes.

She was sad by those thoughts, knowing she would have never met Jacob and never would have ended up knowing the true safety of family and her home, had she not witnessed the horrors of the world she wished she could now bury in her psyche and forget ever existed.  There was something about seeing her grandmother, with that twisted and evil grin as she was pulled into the darkness that made her finally understand that whatever was after them had no explanation that any scientist or specialist could produce an answer for.  This was the truth to the existence of things that were not meant for explanation or research, but rather things that needed locked away and hidden from the world of safety and reason.

Jacob stood at once and brought Erin out of her train of thought.  She looked around in alarm, but saw nothing.  Jacob walked over to the edge of the clearing, near some large green plants, that existed just outside of the light of the fire. 

“Jacob?  What are you doing?  Those things are still close by.”

Jacob turned, sadness spread across his face, “I think there is something you should know.”

Erin sat mesmerized as Jacob paced back and forth, pouring forth the vision of the little girl and the twilight zone premonition into the past.  Though it made no sense, he couldn’t help but feel guilt and the need to go back to the house and find out the truth to the whole mess.

“I don’t think we should go back there.”  Erin said, obviously afraid of ever seeing the sight of that place again.

“I know.  I don’t want too, but you know there is this strange feeling that I am somehow responsible or related to this island’s horrifying existence.  I don’t remember it, and in fact have a very vivid memory of my life, but it was so surreal and vivid that I find there has to be some sort of truth behind the whole mess.”  Jacob’s eyes were watering from the smoke of the fire, and perhaps also a slight feeling of blame.

“I think the whole scene was a trick.  There is a power here that I cannot describe or define, but it is absolute evil.  I saw my grandmother, just as I remembered her as a child, just before I was pulled into the darkness of that room.  She was dead, but smiling at me.  I don’t think letting the things get to you is going to help anything.” 

Jacob stood beside the firelight, watching the flames dancing within.  His attention turned at once towards the beach.

Erin followed his gaze but saw nothing, until the sound of cracking limbs and footsteps grabbed her attention.  There was a figure running through the trees, straight towards them.  The light from the fire cascaded against the trees opposite the small clearing and ended in shadows dancing along as the flames grew and waned.  The figure broke through the trees at a full speed and Erin gasped at seeing a man dressed in army wear and covered in bloody gashes and cuts fall face first before Jacob and Erin.  Jacob picked the man up and helped me into a sitting position against a tree stump. 

He kept trying to mouth words, but under his gasped for breath, no sound came out.  Jacob looked behind him for anything pursuing but saw only the darkness of the jungle. 

The man was fading in and out of consciousness, brought to the extreme of his physical abilities and stared at Jacob. 

“Please, just rest.  The fire’s light will protect us here.” 

The man nodded, trying to voice ‘thank you,’ but slowly faded and lost consciousness.  Erin and Jacob stared at each other in slight bewilderment and fear at the sudden inclusion of this man in their midst. 

“Where did he come from?” Erin said, he gaze searching through the trees for anyone else or perhaps what had been following him. 

“I’m not sure, but we will ask him tomorrow.  I believe for now he needs rest and hopefully he will be willing to help us drag that boat down to the beach.  I don’t think I can manage it by myself.  Why don’t you get some rest and I will keep watch for a couple hours and we will switch.  We have to keep the fire going to ward off whatever those things are.” 

Erin nodded and moved away from the stranger.  She sat against a tree just beside Jacob and laid her head on his shoulder.  She was asleep in no time and Jacob took caution to watch this man, who appeared out of nowhere until it was time to switch.  Erin sat with the same restitution and kept the fire blazing to avoid any close encounters with the creatures.  Shadows played tricks on her mind and she watched in fear as they moved from tree to tree, just outside of the light of the fire.  If it would go out, she knew without a doubt they would die. 

Chapter 15

The lights flickered off and on against the steel metal grate that lined the halls.  There was a sound, muffled and subtle, coming from somewhere nearby.  The painful throbbing in Thomas’s head was mirrored by a similar pain in his lower abdomen.  The bitter metallic taste of blood was on his tongue and the whole collection of lights played on his blurred vision.

His mind was fully functional, aware and guided.  His body and limbs, however; were a completely different story.  He felt like the weight of his limbs was more than he could possibly think of lifting.  Each time he moved his fingers, the blood would rush through his veins and up his arm to be cascaded into a pounding unison within his head. 

He chose to lie still, hoping the drugs in his system would eventually begin to break and lose their grasp on him.  He wasn’t sure where he was or how he got there, but he did know that to move under the restraints of his own body was too much to bear. 

He waited, listening in the distance for some signs of movement or voices.  There was a buzzing sound, more than likely a small fly or moth skittering near the hall lights.  Every few moments a small shadow would flicker across the pale yellow light in the corner.  Aside from the beat of tiny wings and the sounds of Thomas’s own breath, all was silent. 

Thomas lay for hours, waiting on his limbs to regain control over the poison flowing throw his veins.  With each passing minute he felt the weight lift.  He kept his senses keen as he recovered, listening for the telltale signs of voices or movement. 

All he heard was that deafening silence.  It vibrated from wall to wall as if the silence itself was a wave of blasting noise.  Thomas moved his hands and although that familiar beating pain in his temples still followed soon after, he felt it was much more manageable than before.  He clawed at his own selfish need to cover the pain and bit back the dizziness with gritted teeth. 

After 4 hours lying down on a cold steel table, he sat up and began to work his muscles and arms.  He knew that to get his blood pumping was the only way to dull the aching pain and stiffness that he could only attribute to the steel slab he was laying on. 

He made three attempts to stand, but found that his conscious mind was willing and able, but his body was still in disarray and without the needed strength to balance him.  On the third attempt he hit the floor, hard.  He crawled to a nearby chair and sat waiting for someone to come rushing in after hearing him flop around like a dead fish. 

He heard no one. 

The air was strangely salty, almost tropical.  He could hear something outside that sounded like the ocean waves hitting a beach, but the surreal and foreboding nature of his current situation told him the drugs were still prominent in his mental state.  The floor was closely fitted stone, carved and placed with care by a skilled craftsman. 

Slowly, Thomas began to take in his surroundings, noting that the room was not a large one by any standards, maybe a 12 by 14 square of brick.  There was a small metal desk and a lamp that was not lit on one side of the room, just opposite his current position, and a large steel medical table in center that he had just woken up atop. 

There was a hallway off to the side, at the far end of the center table, and old fashioned, steel-grated lights along each wall.  There was a steel door at the end of the hallway with one single square window, slightly fogged up by moisture near the top.  The rest of the room, minus the chair he was sitting in and a bookshelf, was empty.  Thomas continued his movements, rolling his arms around his rotator cup and stretching his legs as best he could from a sitting position for a couple more hours. 

He was military, or had been.  The exercises he learned were from his basic training as a field medic while stationed in Florida.  He had not gone to war, but instead stayed in the states to serve out his term as a drill instructor and was volunteering for deployment in a few weeks.  The past few memories of his life was blurred and made little sense to Thomas, though he attributed that to the throbbing pain and dizziness.  As the drugs wore off, he could feel the pain still steady and the blood on the side of his head meant he was struck by something.  He sat for a few moments resting, and thinking through the milky stagnant memories for one more recent, perhaps leading to why he was…where ever he was.

Thomas kept at the movements, working his muscles and joints to alleviate the stiffness and soreness.  He kept his attention fixated on the door, knowing full well he didn’t crawl into this room and lay on the metal table by his own accord and thus was not alone as it so seemed. 

Another hour and he could feel the strength returning to his legs, the warmth of blood flow pushing the chemicals and stiffness out of his joints and slowly but surely stood at length to balance himself before attempting to take a step forward.  His legs felt very similar to the feeling of just waking up after that tingling sleeping feeling they get once you cut off the blood supply.  They burned momentarily and then as he worked his legs up and down, the pain began to lessen under the motions.

There was nothing in the immediate area he could discern as a weapon, though he wasn’t entirely sure he was being held captive.  It was not a fundamentally accepted hospital room, and was far from modern by any standards of equipment or craftsmanship.  He crept as quickly and quietly as possible to the doorway and peered out through the tiny square window.  Though his vision was blurred by the opaque nature of the window, Thomas could see both left and right for nearly 10 feet and noticed that there was a hallway outside the room and two doors direct adjacent to his current position, with similar doors with similar square windows. 

Thomas tried the door, but it wouldn’t budge.  He was a prisoner.

“Guards!?  Anybody!?” He called out in succession, hoping someone would come by to give him some answers, though he knew that they would probably strike him for the outburst. 

No one came. 

He sat against the door, propped his feet to the side and let his legs rest.  Although he could walk ever so slowly, if he needed to make a break for it, he knew they would not carry him fast enough to outrun any pursuers.  The only thing he could do for the moment was rest and recuperate.  He stared at his camo pants and light tan shirt, and suddenly the realization of his attire hit him.  He was accustomed to wearing the casual military wear when off duty, but he was certain the last memory he had was him leaving the army base.  Though it was as blurred as the rest of his memories, he was given 3 weeks leave just after his volunteer work overseas was accepted and he knew he needed the time to formulate his future plans and prepare for the two years before he would return to the states. 

He searched through the pockets on the pants for anything he could use, but found that he had been stripped of any items, including his small clear plastic sleeve of pictures.  They were pictures of his parents, his father and mother, both members of the military who had gone MIA when he was 12 years old.  He was staying with his aunt, his mother’s sister and she was growing frail under leukemia and Thomas was told his mother would be granted leave to come home to take care of him in a month’s time.  He was grateful for his aunt taking him in, but she was strict and kept a close eye on him.  He liked being outside and mischief was part of his routine to spark attention, or so he now justified that as an adult. 

Thomas was off where he shouldn’t be one day, waiting for a friend who lived up the street, when he saw the Humvee pull in the driveway of his aunt’s house.  Two men, dressed in formal army wear of blue navy and a close cropped hair cut got out and went to the front door.  He ran, hoping they were bringing message of his mother’s return, to find out they were missing in action and presumed dead.  His heart had sunk and his mind reeled back to that day.  He broke down in front of two officers and cried uncontrollably.  His shame was not important, but his self pity was at that point in time.  His aunt cared for him until the hospital took her in and he was sent off to foster homes.  He was given a military sanction life insurance plan that barely covered his expenses and most of the families saw this as a way to use him for the money he brought along. 

When he turned 17, he enlisted in the military and had remained so for 8 years now.  He had no family, no desire to ever have one in the future, and only hoped that his parents could look down on him with pride and honor, the same honor they exhibited. 

The sound of a door closing broke Thomas out of his thoughts and he pressed his ear against the door to listen.  There were footsteps approaching, boots by the sounds of the footfalls and they stopped just outside his door.  He scrambled back away from the door and clawed at the stone wall to regain his stance.  The door swung open and a beautiful woman in a bright white dress and no shoes stood there, her body outlined by the thin lace that fell delicately over her fragile frame. 

She smiled at him and walked forward, her eyes locking his in a daring stare of sensual power.  He lost his conscious efforts at remaining balanced and fell backwards onto the hard stone floor.  When he looked back up, the woman was no longer there.  The room was empty, but the door was standing wide open.  Thomas rubbed his eyes and then his temples, instantly blaming the drugs in his system for the woman who could not have been there.  His mind reeled and wondered at the sudden turn of events, but he didn’t waste time thinking about them.  He was given a chance to escape, no matter how weird it was, he was not going to let the chance slip by.  He stood back up and approached the open doorway.  The hallway went only 10 feet to the right ending at a stone wall, and the left went on for 30 or so feet, with doors on each side and a bright light at the end just around the corner.  He knew it was not man-made light, but sunlight that was pouring in from somewhere. 

He moved as fast as his legs would carry him, stumbling a few times, but keeping his footing.  The wall was his guide and his vision came in and out of focus with the sudden brightness of the light.  He heard a door behind him open and then shut, but he kept his pace, even after the boots fell in line behind him, closing fast.  He rounded the corner and was now down a longer hallway, nearly 60 feet, but which opened up onto a soft white sandy beach with the faint glow of morning sunlight bringing the whole scene to bear down on him with hope.  He picked up his pace, knowing he wouldn’t make it before the person behind caught him, but he was going to try any way. 

As he made it out of the darkness and into the light, he heard the boots behind him stop.  He fell, the sandy shoreline catching his boots and rolling him out onto the brightness.  He stood, turning around to face his pursuer and saw the most horrifying sight he had ever seen.  There in the darkness was not a man, but rather a creature, with grayish slick skin and a twisted muscular body.  The head was bent and warped in an inhuman way and wore a grin with tiny yellowish teeth.  Its tongue was protruding 6 inches from its maul and its entire body was no larger than that of a child’s.  Its muscles were tightly pulled onto its bones and although it looked fragile, it carried an aura of pure evil and Thomas knew at once he would not survive a fight with one of those things.  At the least, not while unarmed.

The creature did not venture out into the sunlight and instead stood in the darkness with a look of pure hatred and vengeance apparent on its twisted face.  It had no eyes, instead it had bloody openings where eyes once were and its nose was two small slits that ran the length of its face.  It screamed and brought Thomas to attention once again, his horrid expression broken by pure terror and he fell back, scrambling to put distance between the thing and himself.  It turned and ran back into the darkness of the hallway, and vanished around the corner. 

Thomas’s heart was beating uncontrollably and he knew this was not a normal hellhole, but rather something straight out of hell itself.  He stood, brushing the sand from his shirt and pants, and ran back through the trees and into the dense jungle behind.  There had to be something or someone that could help him, as the beach was not somewhere he wanted to be.  The cave that leads back into the cliff was obviously not safe, and he hoped to put as much distance as he could before darkness fell.  The sunlight kept the thing at bay and he knew that when the darkness fell, he would be hunted. 

Chapter 14

Chapter 14

The sunlight outside quickly faded behind darkened tropical clouds, as their fluffy blackness collected into one single force of pure fury.  The treetops on the surrounding hillsides danced and groaned under the wind that was collecting itself in the narrow valley. 

Jacob sat alone. He watched slowly as the wind carried leaves and debris all around the front lawn of the old farm house.  The light of what were once a beautiful sunny day fading quickly behind yet another sudden storm.  The weather, in turn, always seemed to match his mood.  If something terrible had happened to him, to ruin his good mood and timid nature, then the resounding force of a storm would appear on the horizon. 

Jacob’s mind danced on that possibility and odd coincidence.  He was letting his mind wonder on the infinite possibilities and for the first time, he tried to come up with some logical explanation for everything that had happened. 

He played on the many thoughts and ideas that sprang upon him after his trip into the past.  He remained confused and with more questions than he had answers, though the strangest part was that he had the feeling he was close to understanding everything.  It was a quick and brief passing thought, like it was on the edge of his sub-conscious but a part of him kept it at bay. 

There were other things changing with in him.  Things he could not place a finger on, but that he felt with each passing minute.  He could let his mind wonder and separate into a thousand thoughts, but his body was always finite and steadfast.  It was strange.  He almost felt as though he could completely leave his body in one place, and travel along without it.

Ever since he had seen the grotesque nature of what he had done, or the man who looked like him had done, it made him wish he could do just that.  He no longer wanted to associate his mind with this sick and twisted façade of a shell.  It was against everything he stood for and he knew it was not the person he was inside.  A part of him knew he was capable of everything he saw, but somehow he felt that this island wanted him to be that way. 

There was not a waking moment on this island that he had not been terrified, confused, hurt, or lost.  It was as if the island itself was tormenting him in ways he could not quite grasp.  The woman, though he had thought her a figure of beauty and passion, was nothing more than another trick on his psyche that made him long for the edge of his dull career and average life back home. 

The only ray of sunshine he had truly known on this island was Erin.  She had vanished like a distant thought beyond an obscure cloud as if she was never there to begin with.  Somehow he knew that where ever she was, or where she had gone, that she was either hurt or worse.  He wanted to run off into the trees in a mad panic and scream out her name, but he knew that behind that blind thought of anger and emotion that he would get no further than if he was sulking in his own thoughts on the porch outside the farm house. 

Erin…

The thought of her hurt made his stomach twist into knots and his nerves stand on end.  There comes a point in any horrific situation when you struggle with the thoughts of giving up.  Jacob’s mind played on that thought more in the past few hours since he had moved from the foyer to the wooden steps outside than he had in his whole life.  He had a gun now, so ending his existence quickly would not be a problem.  What was the point of going on? 

His heart and soul were damaged by the trials of his own existence.  He knew no point in continuing on other than to satisfy his selfish need to go back to his life and sell himself to the corporate world like so many others do on a daily basis.  The small 8 foot by 8 foot cubicles that represent an existence all too familiar to many and that was what many refer to as their lives.  Was there really any point to it all? 

Somebody at the top was getting their pockets filled while the grunts below work their tails off to go home to a failing mortgage, failing marriage and teenagers that resent them for never being there.  Somehow the workings of the modern world seemed more unfair than it truly should be.  This was the life he was fighting for; the distant ray of sunshine atop a hill of jagged rocks and hidden land mines.  Somehow everything that had happened to him since he had awoken on this island was only circumstances that further prodded at the thoughts of why he should even continue to care anymore.

Jacob felt tears well up in his eyes and without warning they began to run down his cheeks as he sat staring, lost in his own thoughts. 

The sound of footsteps brought Jacob back to the reality he was so desperate to escape.  They were not heavy footsteps, but smaller and moving quickly.  Before he could turn around, he was tackled by the thing, sending him onto his back smiling.  He had completely forgotten about the terrier they had found in the woods, just prior to the collapse of the lighthouse. 

The small dog licked him uncontrollably. 

“I’m glad to see you!  I thought you were dead little guy.  That fire was something else.”  Jacob said, as he scratched the dog’s ears.  The dog allowed him every bit of attention, panting happily as Jacob did so. 

“JACOB!”

A voice cut through his good mood like a knife.  It was a terrifying scream of pain and fear.  It was Erin.

Jacob ran into the house, listening for any sounds to let him know where Erin was.  His adrenaline pushed his mind to blankness and allowed his muscles and panic to set in at full speed.  He ran up the stairs and onto the landing.  The muffled moans came once more, but they were higher, somewhere above him. 

He ran into the room, and through the opening in the wall he had made earlier that day. 

The other door.

He still had the rifle wrapped around his shoulder and he took it in both hands and kicked the door to open.  It didn’t bust off of the hinges like he would have assumed an old door would, but rather loosened and swung open.  Darkness poured out from within, sucking up the light provided by the opening to the bedroom beyond.  It was a small hallway that opened to a staircase that went up 5 steps to a small landing and then turned to continue to a room above.  Jacob inched his way step by step, and he noticed that the small dog had followed him, and was staying close behind as he made his way up.  The dog stopped at the landing and growled softly.  Jacob regarding him and noticed the hair on his back was sticking straight up and its eyes were focused on the blackness above. 

There was a railing that followed a half wall to the direct right of the staircase.  The old wooden stairs creaked like they were barely able to hold Jacob’s weight as he inched slowly up into the darkness.  The dog’s growl increased and Jacob pulled the pin back on the firing hammer on the old rifle.  He aimed it forward, hoping that whatever was up there was no shy and out in the open.  He was not the best shot in the world and his eyesight was not the best, especially in the extreme darkness. 

The stale smell of moth balls and mildew erupted from the surroundings, made up of old furniture and miscellaneous other items.  It was cold in the darkness, attributed to the darkness and dampness.  Although he could only see a few feet in either direction with any sound clarity, Jacob dared not call out.  He was sure that whatever was in here, aside from Erin, was alerted to him when he kicked the door open downstairs, but his voice held tight within his throat and would not allow any sound to escape aside from his own heavy breathing.

His heart pounded in his chest, both from the adrenaline rush that was quickly fading and from running up the stairs in such a quick manner.  Jacob was not out of shape, but he had not been known to spend a lot of time at the gym.

He wiped the sweat beading up on his forward and stepped forward into the room.  There were shadows in every corner and although they all appeared to move in unison with each step he took, he heard not a sound.  It was deathly silent, which made Jacob that much more afraid.  It was entirely possible something was waiting to jump out and rip him to shreds, so it was only a matter of him seeing the thing before it had the chance to spring the trap. 

He knelt to the ground, and brought the gun up in front of him.  He used it as a pointer, looking down the barrel as he moved it from side to side scanning the room for any signs of life.  The storm outside was now raging, beating the panels on the roof with each push of wind.  The mildew smell Jacob noticed was due to the many leaks from storms over time, as each drip was only followed by more and more drips from the ceiling above. 

Jacob felt a tinge of panic as something breathed on the back of his neck.  He didn’t move.  He only sat there, waiting for the sheer moment when something ripped its claws across his neck. 

“Jacob?”  Erin’s soft voice said, under clinched teeth from pain and exhaustion.

Jacob turned in just enough time to catch Erin before she collapsed onto the floor of the attic.  “Jacob, we have to go.  Now…”

Her voice trailed off and he eyes closed.  Jacob grabbed her and threw her on his shoulder as he ran for the stairs.  He stopped dead in his tracks.  There was a figure standing at the edge of the staircase, watching him.  He slowly let Erin down to the floor and brought his gun up at the thing.  It was smaller, much smaller than an adult human.  It stood about 4 feet high, at most and as Jacob concentrated, he realized it was wearing a dress.  Lightning flashed outside and from the holes in the roof above, the light came through, lighting up the whole of the attic in a quick and sudden blast of illumination.

Jacob’s heart stopped dead in his chest.  The figure that lit up was the little girl from his vision.  Her hair was matted with dirt and her pink dress was torn and ripped to shreds.  Her eyes were fixed on Jacob and glowed with pure and utter evil.  Even in the darkness Jacob could feel the glare permeating off of the little girl.  Her face was covered in blood and bruises and her body was bloated with decay. 

“What do you want from me?” Jacob called; his voice an audible squeal. 

Her body twisted and bent in the darkness.  It was not the movements of something with bones, but rather the twisted visage of something inhuman.  It fell backwards onto its hands, walking now on all fours like an animal.  It slowly but surely began inching its way towards Jacob.  He could smell decay and blood permeating the air like saturated sponge.  It fell heavy and made Jacob’s labored breathing even worse. 

In the blind panic of what he had just witnessed, he had not realized that he had dropped the gun somewhere in the darkness of the attic floor.  He felt around, using his hands to guide him along.  Unable to find it, he decided to grab Erin and make his best attempt to run, though he knew not where he would go. 

Erin’s body was not where he assumed he had left it, though in the darkness he wasn’t even sure where that truly was.  The creature was closer now, only a few feet away when a familiar growl sounded from atop the stairs.  The dog was eyeing the creature with menace. 

Jacob’s eyes came back into focus, adjusting to the light slowly entering the room from the room downstairs.  It wasn’t enough to see clearly, but when added to the sounds around, it was offering a general opaque nature to the atmosphere. 

He watched as the creature stopped and turned.  A scream, deadly and painful, erupted from the thing.  Jacob’s hair stood on end, and goose-bumps at once appeared all across his body.  The sound was utter and pure terror. 

The dog backed up a step, but didn’t stop its deadly fixation on the demon, as it watched now in confusion at the dog.  Jacob broke the sudden pulse of fear and finally saw where Erin lay, just inches from the creature’s legs.  She was breathing, softly, though Jacob could hear her over the torment of his own beating heart. 

He crawled forward, just enough to reach out to Erin. 

The creature was unmoving, unafraid and angry. 

The tattered dress of what was once a little girl swayed soundly in the wind that whistled through the holes of the ancient roof.  The dog made a dashing run and leapt upon the thing, its tiny teeth gnashing out in fury as the creature spun itself around to prevent the nuisance of bites. 

Jacob took this as his only chance and grabbed Erin and made a dash around the fighting pair and headed for the stairs leading into the room below.  He had no idea where to go or what to do, or even whether or not the nightmare of a little girl upstairs was even real.  Reality seemed to be bending and twisting into ways that made little to no sense to anyone this side of insanity. 

Jacob ran through the smaller room and into the open bedroom.  He continued out into the landing above the foyer and made his way down the stairs.  He tripped, misjudging the distance to the bottom step and plunged down hard onto the floor.  His mind was reeling to fight the urge to black out under the pain.  Erin landed softer, but still roughly against the floor. 

Her eyes sprung open and she looked around for a threat or warning.  She saw Jacob trying to stand up, but uncontrollably shaking his head to prevent himself from losing consciousness.  Her mind was a blank slate of confusion and terror and her body was less than stable enough to stand on her own.  She could not remember why she was so afraid or what had even happened in the past day, but she knew where ever she was that something terrible had had her. 

Another scream rippled through the ceiling, as it opened up in a spider web of cracks and broken plaster.  Remains of old pictures fell from the walls and dust filled the air under the wind from the open door.  Leaves and debris filled the open foyer with a naturalistic décor that seemed not so out of place in the ancient farmhouse. 

Jacob finally gained control of the pain and noticed that just as before, his pain was subsiding at a rapid pace.  The throbbing calmed and the twisted ankle he knew all too well was soothing in a way uncharacteristic to modern medicine. 

He stood, found his way over to Erin and helped her up. 

“Are you alright?” Jacob called, glancing both to Erin and up to the landing at the same time. 

“I can’t walk, but I am alive.  Can we please just get the hell out of here?  I would rather fight with the raging tsunami than deal with the nightmares of this damn house.”  Erin said in urgency.

Jacob only nodded and grabbed her up in his arms.  He walked out the front door, careful to avoid it as it swung in the wind.  As he made his way off of the porch he looked about to find somewhere they could go to avoid the sheets of uncontrollable rain that spilled over the island in torrential downpours.  The barn looked to be the best option given the circumstances and Erin’s injuries and with as much speed as he could muster, ran from the porch, holding Erin in his arms, until they were both safe under the tin roof of the old barn across the way.

“I know his isn’t the Four Seasons, but we might have to make due until you can walk again.  I will get to work starting a fire, and you keep an eye on that house for any signs of movement.”

“What happened to me?  I don’t remember much from the past 24 hours.” Erin said quizzically. 

“I will explain everything in time.  I don’t think you have to worry about that right now.  You are safe and to me, that is enough for now.  I hope to keep it that way and not let you out of my sight ever again.” 

Erin smiled, though Jacob could sense the resistance and doubt behind it.  For some reason, that made him feel as though he would not be able to protect her.  He had his own doubts and with everything that had happened, he was a little uncertain himself. 

He stood and walked between the barn stalls, navigating through the old rotting wooden fencing and constant drips from the roof holes above.  He pushed through a small door, which looked like a storage room and found lantern on the floor right at the opening.  He grabbed it and after shaking it, could hear the remnants of oil within.  He set it aside and moved further into the small room. 

Inside there was a series of farm tools, all rotted and useless from time.  There was a large item, covered by a greenish grey tarp in the center of the room.  He approached it, hoping it was a car, but realizing how useless a car would be in the dense jungle outside. 

He slowly grabbed a corner and began to lift the aging tarp.  It fell apart in crumbles, almost like paper machete under the strain of time.  Eventually he got a grip further up and in a quick motion brought the tarp from over the object beneath. 

His heart raced.  He grabbed the lantern and headed back to find Erin still staring at the house and seeing him running towards her, tried to stand up in alarm. 

“No, please sit.  You are not going to believe what I just found!”