Mystery Lake
[33] Hide
Jake stammered words of apology and concern as the three of them fell back to where he was. A rush of frantic words and uncertain questions flowed from his mouth, but Roxy quickly quelled all those anxious reactions with a kiss.
They made sure that the hidden door was tightly barricaded, though Roxy suspected that any sealed route would probably only provide as much resistance as the front door had. Every wall they put between them felt like a shivering slice of relief, but not nearly enough. Roxy would have preferred something akin to a tower fortress from medieval times or a fortress intended for a zombie invasion.
But none of that mattered if these monsters could simply squeeze their way through. Maybe some lava might work. But all they had was brick, wood, and a little stone. More emotional protection than actual.
Roxy gazed at the non-perishable, abandoned beginnings of a beautiful supper laid out on the kitchen counter. Would the monsters trash all this? Such a beautiful place and such a precious space, full of gently preserved memories on the walls and in their hearts. It didn't deserve this.
A part of her wanted to stop her retreat, spin on her heel, stand as tall as she could with everything she had in her, and stomp towards the monster with a scolding in her heart to take it down to size. All of that was nice for a thought.
A furious rumble vibrated her feet. It was down there, still so close, despite the apparent distance they put between them. It was only when they reached the opposite wall and descended into the narrow, tight corridor blocked off from the first and second floors that it felt like they had something between them and anarchy. Roxy paid the closest attention to the quality of her vision. It was still sharp, but the edges hinted at the returning monster.
The basement is easily the most unfriendly space in the building, with stacks of broken masonry, bundled wires, and tangled, rusty metal tucked away in dark corners. Piles of insulation formed the rudimentary walls of a maze designed to confuse and redirect. Plenty of personal items littered the barren, cold, and stripped landscape. The storage area looked exactly as Roxy had imagined, with a dark green, practically impenetrable bank vault. Still, only a few feet stood between her and the returning tempest. The others quickly let them in.
Layla and Chiara swiftly embraced one another, with dried and fresh tears and cautious hints of Layla's sweet melodies lingering in her mouth. Ross sat in the furthest corner, his legs pulled up tight and his arms squeezing them practically to the point of injury. The old lady wrapped her arms around her son, enveloping him as if she had several extra limbs to spare. Miranda lingered toward the back, closer to Ross than any of the others but still giving him plenty of space.
Could things have been different with Ross if Roxy had approached them differently? It felt like they got off on the wrong foot from the moment Joel stepped into the car and the pale girl felt his chuckling breath on her neck. They had swapped preferred positions in the car since then, but none of their sentiments had changed.
Joel had no real beef with Alyssa. And Alyssa claimed that she had once had a crush on Joel. He was a little rough and tumble, dumb, and a general goofball. But Roxy translated each of those traits differently, and yet the frozen fortress between them remained.
What could she possibly do to change the hardened sentiment that they simply weren't friends? Did it even matter? They didn't need to be buds. They didn't have to care about each other. They just had to survive. Roxy should have been fine with that. Joel was perfectly settled on that notion. But Roxy felt something more. They had to hide; they had to survive, but Ross had the feeling that he'd much rather have done the hiding outside, with the jaws of that creature happily snapping him up. Maybe she'd never understand it, but she wanted to do everything she could for this stubborn vampire boy. Drag him away from drowning, even as he kicked and screamed to be let go.
They kept the volume of each interaction at a carefully guarded level. Roxy passed along about the bout of blurriness and checked to see if anyone in here had experienced similar side effects from the creature. It was hopefully a good sign that everyone confirmed that they were fine. That meant there were limitations.
Jake set the two water containers against the far wall, away from any of them. Granted, whatever went after the water would go through them first. It remained to be seen if this beast thing was after the stuff, them, or something else. Roxy suspected that what she'd done had at least pissed it off, and it would probably be looking for a rematch.
What was she supposed to do about that? Hit them again? There were certainly enough canned goods and other decently heavy things down here to provide enough ammunition. And she didn't have to fight alone. She had already gotten into more fights than she ever intended. Joel had often been taunted into fighting because he was a big guy, and some dudes wanted to prove themselves even bigger.
Joel's response was always humor: cool off the guy's ego with jokes and ways out, win with words, or use their own aggression to keep them off balance. Talking had only worked effectively once against fairy opponents. And each time before this, she needed outside intervention. Not that she begrudged the help, but she didn't want to have to rely on being saved. They had to protect themselves from these dark forces.
Unfortunately, the tokens didn't seem to have done much. Or if they did, it wasn't enough. In the heat of the moment, Layla had forgotten about the clothing inversion and resorted to singing, but now she perked up and took off her top, much to Eugene's immediate concern and covered eyes. Roxy found this a silly reaction for a variety of reasons, which it seemed the old woman had in mind as well, and raised an eyebrow at her son. It amused Roxy that, at a moment like this, there could still be concern about the little things.
She waited until after Layla was done with her change to start unzipping her dress to invert it. It was a much more difficult task than the one Layla swiftly managed. Eugene straight-up turned away. Some rogue part of her had the random desire to just splash the silly guy, but she resisted the notion. Not her call, not anyone's call. She also resisted the urge to check if the random sense Ross had when she was thinking something that involved him popped up again.
The other side of the dress definitely wasn't as comfortable, and the material had all the seams and rough bits showing. Back to the Future 2 mode, or something like it.
Considering that the two of them had started it, the others went along as well. And the next was, surprisingly, Ross, who swiftly and without comment or complaint inverted as much of his outer clothing as he seemed comfortable with shifting around.
Jake put on a little private-but-not display for Roxy. It felt like eyes more than hers appreciated the view. And not just speaking about around the room. In that sense, it was actually the old lady's turn to cover her eyes, though she did it more subtly than her son and without any noticeable embarrassment. It was more like she was doing it for the privacy of the observed than for herself. Roxy had to wonder if she was a little biased in that perception. Layla helped Chiara change without feeling nervous, then turned to Brock and covered her.
Though being surrounded by a big guy in tight girl's clothes didn't calm poor Chiara down that much, as she nervously flipped her clothes around a few times before finally getting them oriented in the right direction, all the while, to Roxy's surprise, she was actually not wearing a bright blush.
The old lady had no qualms about shifting her clothes around, although her son held up some pieces of cardboard for his mother, and she did the same for him. Miranda actually managed to adjust her clothes without any of them noticing, at least not Roxy. Ross wore a tense expression, which might have been connected. Whether any of these actions would have any effect remained to be seen, but at least they had that base covered.
Stolen story; please report.
Aside from following this folkloric tradition, they made sure that the tokens were nearby, and Eugene considered a possible gift. He decided to part with the separated portion of the lake water he wanted to experiment with. The liquid was placed in a visible, open container toward the stairs leading upstairs. Really, Roxy thought that they should have put it outside before all of this happened, but that was a diminishing hindsight. Placing it in front of the secret door would have been a good idea, too, but that would have required backtracking all the way with the uncertainty of what was happening above them. This would have to do.
Of course, Roxy found herself struck with a vague need to use the restroom at that very moment, and it looked like several others also had that on their minds. For that, Eugene cobbled something together with a measuring funnel and a plastic jug, especially for the ladies. They all looked at it, but seemed to decide as a group that it wasn't quite urgent enough to reach that point yet. Although Roxy told herself, taking care of it now during this merciful lull was better than waiting to crouch when the beast was back and stomping outside the door.
Speaking of which, rattling issued from just outside the repurposed vault, even though the vault itself ignored all sense of motion. Timeout over, it was hunting again.
Roxy straightened her arms in a move that bordered on balladic. Nervous quivering unsettled her firm intentions. She had to be up front; she had to be the protector, even though Jake was lightly jockeying for the same position.
Chiara could likely see these wretched things. She wondered if that meant the poor girl would see something clearer or worse in place of the nasty blur. Layla could only shift between forms, if that was even an actual power she seemed to have been granted by the water. Eugene picked up one of the heaviest things nearby, but he could barely grip it without his fingers turning pale. His mother rested a hand on his shoulder, but he refused to turn to look back at her. He kept close to the entrance, but not in the very front.
Meanwhile, Ross remained in the rear, in that same corner. Roxy did her best not to judge him for it, but the judgment still lingered in the back of her mind. Miranda actually ended up with a half-broken steel pipe, which might have been a decent weapon in a video game Joel remembered playing once, but she had her doubts when it came to reality, whatever their situation now qualified as. Brock and Chiara stayed behind some boxes, Brock humming gently.
Roxy expected whatever was up there to tear through, like a wild boar or a bull. But despite the clear fury translating through the air and the earth, there were no notes of destruction. Eugene offered his tablet, but even with the door cracked open, the video interface couldn't connect. Brock soon quieted down so they could pick up every iota of vibration. There was definitely something above them.
It moved purposefully, its weight applied in quick succession. Roxy remembered when cats used to hop up and crawl across the tile roof of Joel's old family home. This thundered deeper than a cat or any playfully hopping bird those cats chased up to those ambitious heights. The best analogy she could come up with was the way the rollers at the old car wash pressed as hard as they could against the faded roof of her parents' old blue van. Persistent thunder that chased you just like that.
The monster didn't barrel through the hidden door. It barely seemed like the obstacle was there at all. After clearing the stairs, it had no trouble threading its way through the side hallway, although Roxy heard the echo and thud of a crash, signaling that the monster didn't care about collateral damage along the way. She hoped it wasn't something of sentimental value.
The buffer of the floor between them muffled many of the details, but not all of them. Could the darn thing smell or sense them in the same way as all these other bastards who'd come after them? She wasn't sure if she wanted that question answered, but making sense of this horrible situation might have helped. Without too much chaos between, it was finally at the stairs, with a direct route to them. They carefully pulled at the vault door. It couldn't be locked since it had been decommissioned, but they would do their best.
Soon, most of the group let Roxy know with hand gestures that their eyesight was being affected again. Chiara, however, still seemed fine. Shit, she didn't deserve to see the monsters. At least she had her head down. Roxy felt the full effect of the blurring soon after. More forehead presses did little to help. In addition, she smelled a nasty, vaguely earthy aroma, less like the dirt of the diner and more like wind-blown, dried-out dust harshly collecting in her nostrils once again. She'd just gotten rid of that crap...
The creature made it to the basement, and the same churning anxiety returned. The door was practically closed, but not all the way. The faint sliver of a crack, enough to see the cloudy presence waiting at the bottom of the stairs, felt like not enough and yet far too much for comfort. She could tell, despite the hindrance to her sight, that it was right next to the water offering.
It perched like a panther hunting through a haze, and it wasn't alone. She could see enough of it to tell that it was a pair, closely connected but still distinct. But the cat-like or even wolf-like analogy didn't quite work because they had an awkward, stretched position, as if an unnatural human were pantomiming a long-legged pose.
Skinwalkers, as Miranda had mentioned when reciting the Cliff Notes version of Miss Clifton's presentation? Wendigo? Jess Googled while they packed and found that those were more common in this area than the previous, though the Joel of the early morning doubted that either actually existed.
Roxy hated looking at the damn, muddled things and desperately wanted everyone in front to yank on the wheel and spin it as tight as possible, no matter how noisy it sounded. But they didn't seem to notice them yet; they were focused solely on their offering. Would it work?
The details were rough, but she could make out enough to notice the weird creatures were inspecting the water. They bent close, as if sniffing. She didn't dare move or breathe; all of their attention was focused on the bottle. Then the front stretched out a limb and pushed the container aside to splatter all over the floor. What must have been a head lifted and looked directly at her. Fuck fuck fuck!
She didn't need to tell them to swarm around the lock. They all grabbed it and turned it with as much coordination as they could manage in that frantic moment. It didn't matter. It came through as if the tightly sealed opening was gaping wide.
Eugene hurriedly threw what was in his arms, but it fell short. Chiara screamed for a moment before Brock wrapped her up protectively. There were many other screams in the air, but Roxy wasn't certain where they came from; some of them might have been her own.
She tried to swing one arm or the other down, but it felt like the most frigid, paralyzing gale washed over her. No matter what was thrown, it failed to land. She had no idea what to do now. Thoughts were hard to focus with the blistering cold settling deep into her soul. Ross finally stepped forward.
Before Roxy could think about what he was doing, Ross' mouth opened wide, and a dark, inky substance vomited not only from his mouth but seemingly from every pore. It completely covered the blurred mass as a sticky thread that congealed into a scrambled nest. The confinement didn't last long as it sank under the wretched weight and practically melted into nothingness, leaving a marbled impression on the vault floor that remained after everything else had evaporated.
Ross just stood there in shock, as if he especially had no idea what he had just done.