“What?” erupted Thomas at Mr. North’s accusation. “I’ve never heard such utter nonsense! You’ve all lost your bloody minds! Are we going to stand here listening to these ridiculous ghost stories, or will you help me get out of here as you promised?”

Lester wasn’t sure how much of his father’s tale he believed, for it was undoubtedly unbelievable. But that didn’t matter. This wasn’t just about him.

“Well, what about it?” Lester asked. “You said if we listened, you’d let us go. Does our deal still stand?”

Mr. North’s shoulders sagged. “Of course it does.”

Lester took a few tentative steps forward, careful to keep Thomas behind him. When his father made no attempt to stop them, even moving aside to allow a clear path, Lester picked up his pace.

The falling snow was rapidly erasing their footprints from earlier in the evening. Lester followed them, leading Thomas across the pitcher’s mound toward the outfield. The two boys made a beeline for the floating bridge. Once there, they could disappear into the cattails, then make their way back to town. Lester would find Amanda and Mae, and together they could decide what to do next.

As they stepped over the mound of the second base bag, Lester heard his father shout. Then, a moment later, something large slammed into them from behind.

The impact sent Lester sprawling face down into the snow. Sputtering, his face numb with cold, he looked up in time to see Bernard and Thomas roll past, a mass of intertwined limbs.

Bernard was heavier, but the new kid somehow managed to get to his feet with Lester’s brother clinging to his back. Utilizing his height and long arms, Thomas bent forward and flipped Bernard over his head, slamming him to the ground.

“Bernard, stop!” Mr. North yelled, running towards them. “It’s too dangerous! Let him go!”

Either Lester’s brother didn’t hear or chose to ignore the warning. Crouching in a wrestler’s stance, he let out a howl and threw himself forward. Thomas made a show of planting his feet as if preparing for the assault but at the last minute twisted sideways, easily avoiding the clumsy attack. As Bernard stumbled by off-balance, Thomas reached out a hand. Thick black tendrils curled from his fingers. They formed together to make a dark spike that struck Bernard directly between the eyes.

“No!” Lester yelled as he watched his brother’s body stiffen and fall to the ground. Scrambling to his feet, he rushed to Bernard’s side, frantically rolling him over. His eyes were open, but in place of the blue-green color he shared with their father, ebony smoke swirled as if trapped behind glass.

Mr. North sprinted to reach his fallen son, but before he could close the distance, Thomas yanked Lester up into a chokehold.

“Uh-uh,” Thomas said, holding up the index finger of his free hand, a black tendril coiling around it like a snake. “I wouldn’t do that if I were you.”

“What have you done?” Mr. North asked, anguish on his face as he looked at Bernard.

“The same thing I’m going to do to poor little Lester here if you don’t take two steps back.”

Mr. North did as he was told.

Lester pulled on the arm wrapped around his neck, but his feet slipped in the snow, making it impossible to gain any leverage. The more he struggled, the more Thomas tightened his grip. Eventually, Lester was forced to stop fighting to be able to breathe.

“You’re — you’re one of them?” Lester asked between gasps.

“He’s more than that,” Mr. North said. “Isn’t that right, Thomas Rich, or do you prefer, Corey?”

“Very good,” said Thomas, with a sneer. “It took you long enough. Even that old fool postmaster hasn’t figured it out. It’s not like I haven’t been dropping clues.”

This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it

“What are you talking about?” croaked Lester. “Figured what out?”

“Did your father not tell you?” asked Thomas. “I suppose leaving loved ones twisting in the wind is another of The Dark’s ridiculous rules. Do you know about the Salem Witch Trials and the story of Giles and Martha Corey?”

Lester nodded, deciding to save his breath for breathing.

“Well, Mr. Corey had a stepson, Martha’s child from her first marriage to Henry Rich. While they were in jail awaiting trial, the boy fell ill. Thanks to that idiot corrupt sheriff, no one was left to care for him as he got steadily worse. Eventually, the townsfolk were sure he’d die too. But then, on the day his parents were executed, at the very moment his mother drew her last breath from the end of a rope, little Thomas made a miraculous recovery. Everyone called it a miracle. They couldn’t have been more wrong.”

Lester craned his head around to stare.

“Not bad for over three-hundred years old, right?” asked Thomas.

“But, you can’t be,” said Lester, his mind spinning. “You have a smartphone.”

“Oh, Lester. I thought you were supposed to be the intelligent one around here,” said Thomas waving his gloved hand. “It’s called connective thread, designed to let people use touch-screens in cold weather without freezing their fingers off. The advances in technology these days. Quite amazing, don’t you think?”

Lester couldn’t believe it. How could he have been so stupid? It was right in front of him the whole time. He’d fallen for Thomas’s act, hook, line, and sinker. And now Bernard was hurt.

“Giles was a miserable old bastard,” Thomas continued. “Fortunately, his stubbornness got him killed before he went to trial. Instead of the town seizing his assets, they were given to his last surviving heir, me. That money has grown into quite a fortune over the last three centuries. Of course, I had to leave Salem. Those hicks were gullible and dumb, but sooner or later, they were bound to notice I wasn’t aging.”

“But if your parents were Keepers of The Dark,” said Lester, “that means you’re of The Dark too. Isn’t attacking them like turning on your own family?”

Lester looked down at the still unmoving body of his brother.

“Did The Dark help my mother?” scoffed Thomas. “No. Those cowards turned tail and ran to save themselves. I spent years searching for them and nearly gave up. Then your busybody brother started poking around at The Marine Society, asking odd questions and digging through the old records. It was child’s play to track him first to The Crowley School and then back to a little-known town called Giles Hollow. If there’s one thing I’ve learned in all my years, it’s that there’s no such thing as coincidence. I had one of my shell companies buy The Darling Place and enroll me in school. After that, all I had to do was wait. Imagine my surprise when that doddering old bat Dolores called to say you and your brother had stopped by the Hawthorne Hotel for a visit.”

Lester pictured the woman standing behind her desk in the opulent lobby, talking on her phone as she waved goodbye. If he managed to somehow survive this night, he’d need to warn Mathis.

“My boys don’t have anything to do with this,” Mr. North said. “Why don’t you let them go. They don’t even know about our world.”

“Then you should have prepared them better!” Thomas snapped. The black tendril wrapped around his finger drifted closer to Lester’s face. “You’re all responsible! The Dark. The Light. Every single one of you!”

“Thomas, listen to me,” Mr. North pleaded. “What you’re doing, it’s no different than what happened in Salem. They were wrong. Anger and fear drove them to do terrible things, and innocent people, like your mother, paid the price.”

“True,” said Thomas. “But that was The Light trying to destroy The Dark. It only gets half the job done. By stoking the fires of your stupid little war, I will get you to eliminate each other. And once I’ve rid the world of the whole lot of you, it will thank me.”

“Look around,” Mr. North said, waving up at the falling snow. “Can’t you see what’s happening? This is no normal storm. You’re doing this. Continue down this path, and it won’t matter what side anyone is on. That includes you.”

“You’re lying to save your own skin,” Thomas growled, but his eyes drifted to the deep blanket of white that now covered his feet.

Seizing his chance, Lester grabbed the arm around his neck and lifted himself up. He swung his legs out to the side, pulling Thomas off balance. Then Lester sent a hard kick into Thomas’s knee, and the slick ground did the rest.

Mr. North leaped onto Thomas as they landed, quickly pinning his hands behind his back. Lester, now free, threw himself across his legs.

“What on earth were you thinking, Lester?” his father said once they had Thomas under control. “Didn’t you see me signal for you to get out of here?”

“Oh, is that what that was?” asked Lester. “I thought you were telling me to sweep his leg. You know, like in that old Karate Kid movie you love so much.”

Lester’s father stared at him in disbelief. Then he did something Lester hadn’t seen him do in a long time. He started to laugh.