Resent rose with a smirk as the nebulae materialized in his hands. Stretching his right arm forward, he began constructing dark webs to catch the now furious boy. Jett was darting and weaving around the nebulae like a wide receiver headed for a touchdown. Both of them seemed to have forgotten they were in a public park. And while the nebulae blended into the night, the electricity zipping back and forth was like a tweaker operating the beacon of a lighthouse.

“Damn, he’s swift,” Resent said, sounding almost impressed.

“Yeah, he’s always been fast, but never like this.”

“Let us ascertain precisely how fast.” Resent put his left arm under his right. The network of nebulae stopped chasing Jett and coalesced in the center of the clearing, spinning around each other until they created a twister twice the size of the one Resent used against Flint. Branches, litter, and leaves were being pulled in with ease, and its intensity was only increasing.

“Stop! You’ll kill him!”

Jett was getting closer and closer to being sucked in, while Resent just stood by, watching. Before Rodrigo could protest further, all the electricity surging around Jett’s armored body concentrated at his heels. He bolted out of the twister’s range, swerved around an oncoming trashcan, and threw a wild punch Resent struggled to catch and immediately released after being zapped by it. Then Jett doubled back out of reach. That all happened inside a second.

“He was trivializing his Flair by referring to it as armor. Not only does it counter every instance of contact with an electric discharge, but it greatly enhances all aspects of his agility. Thanks to your inferior human senses, I could scarcely see more than a blur,” Resent admitted. “Is scurrying around like a rodent all you can do?”

“Screw you!” Jett yelled as electricity focused at his feet again. Flitting past Resent, he ran up the trunk of a thick elm tree behind him, springing off it and into a kick just before reaching the midpoint. At the speed he was moving, his foot might’ve knocked Resent’s head off his shoulders if the nebulae hadn’t been there to shield him. For a second, it looked like Jett’s attack might break through, but then his electricity died down, the armor fading away.

The nebulae Resent had used to protect himself, wrapped around Jett’s legs and held him upside down in midair. “You left yourself defenseless with that maneuver. Someone so dependent on speed should not be so eager to remove his feet from the ground.”

Jett’s face crumpled. “I wasn’t winning otherwise. It was all-or-nothing.” He let his trembling arms drop to hang loosely over his head. “I’m done.”

“And just when I was thinking you may have some potential. How unfortunate.” Once Resent returned control to Rodrigo, his nebulae dissipated, and Jett fell to the grass with a grunt.

“Is he gone?” Jett asked, panting in exhaustion.

“Yeah,” Rodrigo said as he helped his cousin up. “I know it was harsh, but in his own twisted way, he was trying to help you. At least you got some experience using your ability in a fight. That’s more than I can say.”

“I’m not brain-dead. I get it. But maybe he coulda talked to me instead of just kicking my ass. Dude’s a jerk.”

“No argument here,” Rodrigo said, putting a hand on Jett’s shoulder. “I think you’ve gone through enough drama for one day. Let’s go back and get some grub.”

Emerging from the thicket of trees, they crossed the small Terrace Bridge that overlooked the lake. As they passed the large white boathouse at the water’s edge, the Camperdown Elm, with its gnarled, downward growing branches, came into view. Rodrigo remembered it being pointed out to him and his classmates during a field trip when he was a kid. Even in the darkness, it didn’t look nearly as spooky as he’d thought it back then. He wasn’t sure if it was a perk of getting older, or the result of having seen and experienced so much worse than a depressed tree in the years since.

The walk back to the house took longer than it did coming. When they arrived, Emelina was already serving food from the steaming pots and pans on the stove. “Good timing. I didn’t want to have to dry out the food warming everything up.”

Once Raquel and Carlito entered the dining room, everyone took a seat at the table and dug into the smothered pork chops with yellow rice. Black beans, avocado slices, and sweet plantains rounded out the mouth-watering meal. Carlito was shoveling food into his mouth with the zeal of a starving man. Raquel’s table manners were forgotten as she spoke around bites of the savory pork. They all loved Emelina’s Spanish food. It was delicious, authentic, and something their mother, who was still absent, couldn’t even be bothered to attempt.

As Rodrigo took another bite out of his second pork chop, he realized how much he envied his cousins. They ate like this regularly. Their home was clean and beautiful. And they were loved by their parents.

“A satisfying meal,” Resent said.

“But pizza’s still your favorite?”

“Of course. After all, if one desires it, meat is easy enough to obtain in Hell.”

When everyone had finished their food and given their compliments to the chef, Raquel asked, “Auntie, can we go outside for a while?”

“Awful lot of that going on today. ¿Por qué?”

“Uh...” Raquel paused, glancing toward Carlito in a plea for support.

Carlito must have found the table’s woodwork riveting because he refused to raise his eyes from it as he spoke. “You said something about exploring the new neighborhood.”

“Yeah, that’s it. So, can we go?”

Emelina studied Raquel’s nervous face and Carlito’s guilty one for a few seconds, clearly skeptical, but eventually she sighed. “Clear the table and then you can all go. Be back by 10:00.”

Outside, Raquel and Carlito moved a fair distance away from the house, waving Rodrigo and Jett over, as if Emelina could hear through walls.

“All right, so, Jett, you’ve noticed how there’s apparently something off about this neighborhood lately, right?” Raquel asked. “While you two were out doing whatever lameos do, we got a call from Geo, who heard something very interesting from his friend Wilson.”

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“Ay Dios,” Jett said, dropping his face into his palm.

“What?” Rodrigo asked.

“The kid is one of those tin foil hat types. Ninety-nine percent of what he says is bull, but he still gets Geo riled up every time.”

“Anyway,” Raquel snapped, refusing to be sidetracked. “Geo says it’s because of this house on Swan Street. Says it’s legit haunted, and that’s what’s got people on edge.”

“Okay...and you’re buying this, Carlito?” Jett asked.

“I mean, she put Geo on speakerphone, and he sounded really freaked out.”

As far as Rodrigo remembered, his little cousin’s voice was usually boisterous and brimming with bravado, so if he failed to put up that front, he must have genuinely believed what he’d heard. Rodrigo couldn’t say he wasn’t curious about all the neighborhood’s shut-ins. But with the mountain of recent problems he was facing, he didn’t want more. “Honestly, it’s strange, but ghosts aren’t real.” Then, to the undead demon inhabiting his body, he asked, “Right?”

“Souls can linger for a time after being disembodied, though to my knowledge they wouldn’t be able to interact to the level some humans believe.”

Jett seemed surprised by Rodrigo’s reaction, but nodded. “Exactly, and this isn’t any of our business.”

For a moment, they looked discouraged. Then a mischievous smile crossed Raquel’s face. “I knew you guys were far from alpha males, but yikes. Think you’ll ever get girlfriends being this gutless? The way you two act, you’d be better off in an old-age home where the nurses can take care of your boo-boos.”

“What? We’re not scared. It’d just be a waste of time,” Jett replied.

“You hear something, Carlito?”

“Yep, it sounds a bit like...bawk, bawk, bawk,” Carlito taunted, as he began flapping his arms. Raquel joined in, and they started running in circles around them. Rodrigo had forgotten how annoying Carlito could be in the rare instances he was influenced by their sister.

“I suppose doing something real is preferable to those tedious virtual diversions.”

“All right already,” Rodrigo submitted.

“Told you it’d work,” Raquel muttered as she bumped fists with Carlito.

“If you guys are all dead set on this, I guess I’m in, too,” Jett said. “But let’s stay together. We’ve got over an hour before we have to come back. No need to rush.”

“It’s only three blocks away. Let’s go!” Raquel yelled and took off running.

“Come on,” Rodrigo said, chasing after her.

When Raquel finally stopped at the corner of Swan Street, it was as a distant third in what had developed into an impromptu race. Jett ran track and had the longest legs, so it astonished no one that he came in first, though with all the physical exertion Rodrigo had been through lately, he made him work for it.

“So, this is it?” Carlito asked as he caught his breath at last and looked at the old detached house made of dark bricks with a conical roof. Blackout pleated shades blocked the windows, dashing any hope of ending this with a quick peek inside.

Jett grimaced as he examined the neglected front yard, teeming with overgrown plants and littered with garbage. As if they’d waltzed into a bad part of the neighborhood, many of the surrounding houses also looked like they’d seen better days. A couple had red and white “For Sale” signs posted in their yards.

Busybody that Raquel was, Rodrigo still hadn’t understood why she’d been so intent on this until he saw her phone in hand. She was recording this little ghost hunt, probably not believing a word of it, but hoping something might happen that she could post on social media. Fearless in her pursuit of clout, she pushed past the waist-high weeds and went up to the rusting metal door. She pounded on it, then waited for all of five seconds. When there was no response, she grabbed the knob and shoved the door open. “Who’s taking the lead?”

“Pull back for a sec. Ruy, let’s talk,” Jett said, putting some distance between himself and the house. “Look, I hate to be that guy right now because it seemed like a joke when we were talking about it. But I can’t be the only one getting bad vibes from this place. It looks like a squatter’s paradise, or a drug den. Should you really let them go in? Wouldn’t go myself if I didn’t know hearing we backed out would only make Geo more interested, and he’d come here without me, pronto.”

“I get what you’re saying. But this was their idea. If we tell them it could be dangerous and then just go in ourselves, they’ll be pissed.” Giving it some thought, Rodrigo said, “Follow my lead.” They walked back over to Raquel and Carlito. “Listen, you guys need to stay out—”

Before Rodrigo could even finish his sentence, Raquel sprinted for the door.

Jett blocked her path. “Stop, Raquel, this is important.”

“Uh-uh. No way you’re leaving us out here, so we miss out on the fun.”

“But we need someone outside just in case,” Rodrigo said. “What we’re doing is illegal. If a cop drops by while we’re all in there, we could end up getting arrested. This way, if you guys see anyone, you can walk away and text one of us.” Even though he was playing it up to keep them out of harm’s way, it wouldn’t be the worst thing to have lookouts.

Holding the door open, the little Rodrigo could see inside looked fairly normal as far as abandoned houses went. Broken furniture, scattered possessions, and paint peeling off the walls. Still, not as bad as he imagined. As he stood in the middle of the living room, he could hear indistinct noises from above.

“Stay there, or I’ll delete your rogue’s save data when we get home,” Jett warned a seething Raquel before closing the door behind him. Without the light from outside, they were in almost complete darkness. “Hello!”

There was no response.

“Let’s check upstairs.” Rodrigo took his phone out, intending to use its flashlight, but having gone days without being charged, it was dead.

As they crept up the steps to the second floor, it became pitch-black. He heard the noise again, this time louder. It sounded like...gnawing. Maybe an animal had broken in. The stench of something rotting was also becoming stronger the farther up they went. At this point, the bad feeling Rodrigo had gotten from seeing the front yard was intensifying, but morbid curiosity pushed him onward.

“Find a light switch or something,” Jett whispered.

“Have you seen this place? No one’s paying Con Ed a dime here.”

“If it doesn’t work, I should be able to fix it. For now, let’s just find one.”

As flies buzzed around him, Rodrigo slid his hands along the wall, trying not to fall down the stairs. He felt something wet and sticky on them. He held his hands up to his nose, smelling a vaguely familiar odor. His pulse quickened as he recognized the coppery scent.

“Got it,” Jett said, turning on the light, which amazingly still functioned.

Although it was flickering, it allowed Rodrigo to fully absorb the horror before him. His hands were slick with blood. Stunned, he took a slow look around. Gore was splattered all over the hallway and various decomposing body parts, covered in masses of writhing maggots, cluttered the floor. Jett vomited and Rodrigo barely kept down the urge to do the same as he gagged, his stomach churning.

In front of them, a person with long, straggly hair, wearing blood-soaked rags, was crouching and devouring something. Startled by the sudden light, the being spun, dropping its meal to the ground. Its long, gaunt face held unfocused red-rimmed eyes and a wide mouth baring bloody yellow fangs. The creature glared at Rodrigo as it scraped its four-inch claws against each other, twitching erratically. Now, his eyes fell on what it had been eating.

A human heart.

“Wake up, slave, that’s a demon!” Resent shouted as the drooling creature speed-crawled toward Rodrigo.