Getting out of bed was a painful series of cracking her joints and massaging her flesh until Marcie was finally on her feet. Embarrassment that should have made her cheeks flush, instead spread throughout her body as jitters. She needed her body to feel numb and normal again as soon as possible.
There was a cacophony of conversation outside the bedroom. As Marcie passed through the hallway, a vague familiarity washed over her. While she didn’t have an exact recollection of having been to Tío’s apartment before, she recognized the bullfighting tapestry hung on the wall in the passageway and knew the scent of the dusty rug under her bare feet.
As soon as they turned into the main room, it went quiet. Tío Jesse’s common room had transformed into a makeshift war room. A laminated map of Redwood Cove stained with the smudges of dry erase marker was rolled out over a dining table. The table was not built to comfortably seat more than four people, and the room certainly wasn’t designed to hold many more than six, being the only other room of Tío’s one bedroom apartment on the lower east side of the Cove. Somehow, they’d managed to squeeze Marcie, Grant, and Hunter in with the full neighborhood watch crowd.
Marcie vaguely remembered everyone in the room, but there was a small group of people that she distinctly remembered: Milton Sosa and his two sons Alejandro and Bruno who worked at the docks, Mr. and Mrs. Ruiz who owned La Chulada Mexican Market downtown, Susana Reveles and her daughter Luisa who ran the ice cream parlor, and Fernando Pinedo who used to get drinks with her dad. Most people were standing, including Hunter and Grant who fidgetted under the ire of the Watch. The only people who took seats at the table were Mr. Sosa, Mrs. Ruiz, Marcie, who Tío insisted take one of the chairs, and Tío himself, who sat beside her with a comforting hand placed on her shoulder.
All the members of the neighborhood watch looked as though they were anticipating something. Their silence was uncanny, their stillness unnatural. Mr. Sosa was so clearly the leader of the group; even Tío was uncharacteristically concentrated, awaiting any word from the man. Tío seemed to be the only thing between her and the rest of the room. Even Mr. and Mrs. Ruiz who used to give her candy bars on the house and Alejandro, who used to gift her his hand-me-down action figures had their eyes trained on her. Why did she feel so apart from them now? Maybe it was because she was her father’s daughter, even if she was Tío’s niece.
The scent of honey and cinnamon wafted through the air, accompanied by the sound of milk bubbling on the stove.
“Alejandro,” Mr. Sosa prompted.
Milton Sosa had a soothing yet commanding aura. The portly man waved his hand to direct one of his sons, though it didn’t come off as a demand. Ale went to the connected kitchen to stir something in a pot big enough to feed the room.
Seeing Mr. Sosa relaxing in the chair at the head of the table reminded Marcie of when she was a toddler and her parents would let her play with him as they shopped at the fish market. He would lift her up onto his lap as he sat at the checkout counter and tell her stories about the high seas, reminding her never to go near the edge of the docks, lest she want sea monsters to snatch her away. Though enough time had passed for his hair to grey and for his sons to become men, he clearly never lost that paternal spark.
No one else in Tío’s living room moved from their positions until Mr. Sosa motioned again.
“Luisa, would you take the minutes today? En español. I’ll be speaking some English for our guests,” he said.
Tío was shifting in his seat, occasionally taking a moment to crack his neck and shoulders. Mama always said it was because of his addiction that he was so fidgety, like he was nervous about something, but Papa insisted he’d always been that way. Marcie had always gotten the notion that Tío was far more discerning than he let on. She wondered what he was thinking then, glancing between Hunter and Mr. Sosa.
Mr. Sosa cleared his throat, “Buenos días a todos. Gracias por asistir a esta importante reunión. We are here to gain crucial information regarding the entity Hunter Campbell here has called the Void. El Vacío.”
A brief chuckle disturbed the quiet, somewhere in the room.
“Hunter Campbell, tell everyone what you’ve seen,” commanded Mr. Sosa.
Nervousness painted Hunter’s face even paler, but he found the strength to straighten up and clear his throat.
“Several nights ago,” he bravely started, “we encountered an entity that was unlike anything I’ve ever seen or heard of. It looked like a shadow or like a black hole. I don’t really know how else to describe it.”
Hunter gave the room a detailed account of the night at the docks. The room somehow went even quieter, like they were ready to pounce on him if they heard something they didn’t like.
“…And then, there was this man. He had his own book. Uhh…not a grimoire, if you all know what that is…”
Mr. Sosa gave him a swift nod.
“I didn’t get his name, but he cast an incantation using blood to teleport us through town,” Hunter continued.
The murmuring started. None of the watchmen and women seemed anxious, but they spoke in hushed tones as if to keep their secrets from the only three people who were not of their ranks. Mr. Sosa threw up a balled fist. All the noise in the room halted.
Hunter fidgeted uncomfortably with all the attention returned to him. “He left me in my own bedroom, I don’t know how he knew where I lived but I haven’t seen him since.”
“Next question, Hunter. Why have you made our Marcella into this abomination?” Mr. Sosa asked. Behind his placid tone, there was a snarl.
“I only wanted to…She isn’t…” Hunter squirmed under the disquieting stare of the man across from him.
She wanted to slam her hands on the table and speak for herself. Mr. Sosa's attention was solely pointed at Hunter, and yet a lump had formed in Marcie’s throat.
She only managed, “I asked him to.”
For a moment, Mr. Sosa’s tough expression broke as he took in what she’d said, but he soon returned to his piercing stare. Her and Hunter’s limp responses swayed no one. The tense air that permeated the room was filled with what Marcie detected as disgust. Were they disgusted with her? With what she’d become?
“Marcella,” Mr. Sosa said with soft condescension, “Do you understand what danger you’ve brought upon us?”
What in the hell sort of question was that? What danger? Like any of this was her fault. She’d come up out of the ground just a month ago; how was she supposed to understand any of this?
“Te lo digo, jefe. Eso es injusto.” Tío’s chair creaked as he sat forward to challenge Mr. Sosa’s glare across the table.
“Perdón.” Mr. Sosa surrendered with both hands in the air. It was hard to tell, as Mr. Sosa backed into his chair, who was actually in charge.
Marcie found that the best way to calm her nerves, considering she could no longer take deep breaths, was to squeeze the bones of her toes. With her phalanges pressing against her metatarsals, she could hone her focus.
Thinking it best to assume the confidence of her uncle, she squared her shoulders, balled her toes, and addressed the room. “What are you keeping from us? What happened to me at the beach?”
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Tío and Mr. Sosa exchanged another round of looks.
Mr. Sosa spoke without turning his head. “You’re safe now–”
“Tell me!” Marcie demanded and even Mr. Sosa leaned back a bit in surprise.
“–She deserves to know, Milton.” Tío argued.
“Como veas,” Mr. Sosa motioned.
Tío placed his hand back on Marcie’s shoulder. She hadn’t even realized it moved. That stern seriousness he used to speak to Mr. Sosa didn’t leave his tone of voice. It reminded her of Papa. “Marcella, the Necronomicon your friend there used to bring you back to life is a powerful relic. Bringing that thing to this town has put all of us in danger. Its powers were used again when you were at the beach and we were surprised it was not your partner who caused it. My assumption is that El Vacío used the book. That surge disrupted whatever forces were holding you together. If we weren’t already in the area, we may have been too late.”
He looked at his fellow watchmen. “We have powers of our own, powers that have been in our blood for generations. We did our best to use them to keep you from fading back to ash.”
Marcie remained quiet through his explanation, almost as still as room, save for her still scraping bones. All of these people she’d known for years had suddenly become strangers. Anomalies like her that she no longer understood.
“Hunter,” Tío turned, “tell me, where did you find such a thing? I don’t think we covered that.”
Hunter’s shoulders hiked up like they did when he was embarrassed, “Craigslist.”
“Oh boy,” someone blurted.
Tío took a deep breath. “What attacked you that night at the docks was a demon. I’m sure you’ve realized by now.”
“Yes sir,” said Hunter.
“We don’t know its name, but we’ve been trying to pin it down for some time now. It is also very dangerous. It has the grimoire now, correct?”
“Yes sir.”
“Mmm,” Tío acknowledged gravely. He motioned to the table and the map laid out on it. There were dots drawn in dry erase marker all across town, the newest one being right at the beach. “We’ve been tracking the supernatural energy that the demon leaves behind across Redwood Cove. We didn’t find what we were looking for, but we did find you.”
Tío gave a grave look to Marcie, then Hunter and Grant. “Marcella, you were created using a book crafted by evil from a place that may very well be Hell.”
Shakily, Marcie let out a confused, “Okay? But why–?”
“–You’re wasting time, Jacinto.” Mr. Sosa scratched at his neck. “Hunter Campbell, how many people know about Marcella?”
Hunter’s answer came slowly and with some difficulty. Marcie barely kept track either so she couldn’t blame him much even if the Watch seemed antsy for him to do his mental math. “Me and Grant. Marty too, but I’m not sure if he’s even alive. I think my sister might have some suspicions but I don’t think she actually does. And..all of you now.”
“–My mother saw too, but I convinced her she had a nightmare,” Grant mentioned.
“Ahh yeah. Her too maybe,” Hunter confirmed.
Mr. Sosa nodded approvingly towards Grant. “You may have very well saved her life. Most people cannot naturally see the paranormal. This means they cannot be harmed by creatures, demons or monsters. If they encounter one, they will see something more normal, something that would make sense to them. And they’d be much more resistant to attacks because they’d feel only what would be reasonable for what they're seeing. But that all changes when they are confronted with undeniable evidence, like for example, a dead girl who they saw buried who is now walking the streets of Redwood Cove. Once you make first contact, it’s open season. Do you understand now, what you’ve brought here? For your safety and the safety of the town, I’m going to ask you all to stay here until we can find a solution.”
“What–?” Marcie’s unbeating heart sank.
“–It’s only until we can deal with the demon.” Tío tried to placate her. He looked pained to agree with Mr. Sosa.
Marcie’s feet were gripped so tight they were starting to hurt. She wasn’t evil. They couldn’t keep her here. “But we can help! Nobody will have to know it’s me. That thing is deadly and I can’t die. And Hunter knows more about that book than anyone!”
“Marcella. You must stay here” Tío pleaded. “You have to understand. You’ll only be putting more people in danger–”
“No!” She yelled her defiance. She couldn’t be trapped in one bedroom again, not when her memories were starting to return. Not when she might be running out of time.
“Marcella, listen to me–”
In an instant, she’d thrown herself onto the table. Mr. Sosa tried to grab her leg as she jumped from the other end, the commotion sending Luisa’s notepad flying.
The apartment was so small and the door was so close. Several of the Watch tried to stop her, but she barrelled through them like bowling pins. She threw Bruno aside, shoved Fernando onto his ass, and kicked off Susana who tackled her by the waist. When she got to the door, she flung it open, forgetting entirely to even twist the knob, sending splinters of wood flying. What lay beyond the door took her immediately off guard.
BARK
A pack of Xoloitzcuintli had swarmed the other side of the door. A dozen or so of them. Had they been out there the whole time?
BARK BARK BARK BARK BARK BARK BARK BARK
The whole horde was gnashing their teeth and snarling, spitting saliva everywhere. Marcie fell onto her back as they all pounced. And it wasn’t just them. There was more barking from inside the room. As Marcie was swarmed, she watched Alejandro, Bruno, Luisa, and many other Watch members start to transform. Their hands shriveled into paws, their hair shortened until it barely poked out of the top of their head, and their bones snapped into their new forms.
Great. All these Tíos and Tías she grew up with were…werewolves? Weredogs? Either way, this sudden comprehension only confused her more. Then, of course, all the new dogs joined the pile too.
Being smothered by the dogs, with their claws scratching at her clothes and her skin, felt alarmingly like being in the darkness of the Void. Marcie kicked and screamed, trying to escape, but it was no use. They were strong. Stronger than her. So much so that even one or two might’ve been enough to keep her down. She didn’t know if it took five seconds or five minutes, but, eventually, she couldn’t fight anymore.
Marcie hadn’t been truly still for a long time. When she wasn’t moving her body of her own will, nothing moved. No heartbeat, no blood pumping in her veins, no air flowing into her lungs. And that stillness reminded her of something else. A spaceless expanse of nothingness. A place where a moment was endless and she had spent infinity alone. Death. The afterlife. Wherever she had been.
A loud two-finger whistle rang through the darkness and her surroundings started to shift. Light returned, but somehow everything still felt dim. She couldn’t go back. Not to being trapped in one room. Not to being engulfed by a monstrous darkness. Not to being ash or a corpse dead on the carousel at the bottom of a cliff. Not back to the afterlife.
“Marcie, you’re okay. They’re off.” Hunter was hugging her but she could barely feel his arms around her. The living room was even more crowded now, with dozens of people all standing over her.
“I can’t go. I can’t go,” she repeated.
“What the hell!” Hunter yelled at the crowd, now all back to human form.
Tío knelt down to her level. “Lo siento diablilla. That was a bit overkill.” He helped her up and Hunter and Grant gently guided her back to the table. She knew it was happening, but it felt like she was witnessing herself from outside her body. Nothing made sense. There were too many unknowns, too much to understand. Mr. Sosa was right to question her. She didn’t know anything anymore.
The bones of her toes were scraping together so hard she could have ground them to dust. Grant had both hands on her shoulders and had his eyes locked on her, trying to coach her through breathing exercises. She wanted to explain that she couldn’t, but no words escaped her lips. And in any case, she didn’t need to talk, she needed to feel something, anything.
So she threw her arm into the table. Not to break it, but to break herself. Marcie aimed right at the corner, bisecting her hand at the knuckles and splitting her radius from her ulna. And it hurt. Finally it hurt. Not enough to scream, but just enough.
As Marcie got her bearings, she took stock of the room. The Watch was still at alert. Grant had flinched back in shock and Hunter was just looking on with a powerless look in his eyes. Everyone was laser-focused on her, like she was a ticking bomb ready to go off at any moment. The only people who weren’t were Mr. Sosa and her Tío, who were in the corner talking to each other. And as Marcie fully settled back into her own body, she started to pick out the words that came out of Mr. Sosa’s mouth.
“Tenemos que ir. Ellos encontraron un cadáver en los muelles. Lo revisaré,” he said.
A dead body was found at the docks.