Sheriff Johanson parked his patrol car near the Bay Front. He looked through the notes and the journal. There had to be something that Clines overlooked. He looked at pictures of The Book of The Trident Grove Natives. It was all gibberish. He didn’t understand how Clines could figure any of the pictures or writing out.

  He groaned, rubbing his eyes. He stared out at the storm that was growing outside his car window. It was spattering his windshield like bugs during the Summer. Sundown would probably start in a couple of hours.

  He looked back at one of the pictures. It was a woman. The mermaid Clines talked about, probably. She held the head of a red-haired man. Could it have been Clines, in some metaphorical sense, she slew him? He saw creatures surrounding her, seemingly giving praise. Maybe they were what would be released through the portal Clines said was going to open. All of it, he thought, had to revolve around the mermaid. Storm clouds and lightning filled the sky of the painting. That explanation was obvious. Then, he noticed in the background, a kid. One of their arms was poorly painted. They held a spear. They seemed to be approaching the mermaid on her pedestal of skulls, in anger. Who was this kid? It wasn’t himself, he wasn’t even metaphorically young. It had to be a good place to start. He stared. He thought about everything thing that happened.

  Terry woke up. Rain pattered on the roof. From under the covers, he looked at the clock across the living room. It was a little bit after seven o’clock. He rolled off the couch and landed like a cocoon on the floor. He struggled, but eventually got out of the covers he was wrapped in and walked over to the sliding door of the balcony.

  The setting sun was hidden by storm clouds that stretched to the horizon. Like the eye of a hurricane, the clouds circled the center of town in a deadly waltz.

  Thunder shook the apartment, and Terry jumped with it. The meeting with Sheriff Johanson was definitely canceled. Then, the phone rang and Terry answered it with a hello.

  “Terry, it’s Mom.”

  He asked her if everything was alright.

  “Is everything okay? The roads are closed off so I can’t leave work, and the storms getting bad. Make sure you stay home.”

  “Yes ma’am.”

  “I’ll be home as soon as it calms down a bit. Stay safe, dear. If you can get to the Stephens’ safely, take refuge. I love you—” the phone line cut off with a rumble of thunder.

  Terry gazed around the now dark apartment. The heater was quiet, and the only sound came from the storm outside. He stood there wondering whether he should let fear and panic take hold. He fiddled his thumbs and walked over to the covers he left on the floor. He surrounded himself with them and walked back to the balcony door. It was starting to get cold. If he put on a raincoat and ran, maybe he could get to the Stephens’ house, as his mom suggested, and not have to be so alone. He went and changed clothes.

  “Sheriff, we’ve gotten a couple calls about fallen trees, and power outages throughout the whole town. Come back to the station. The weather is bad.” Johanson’s walkie-talkie sounded.

This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.

  He clicked it and replied. “I’ll be a’right. I’s not as bad as a hurricane. Just a thunder storm. Besides, I got something I gotta do.”

  “Well, alright. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.” The woman replied.

  He didn’t say anything back. Instead, he leaned into the steering wheel and cautiously continued driving.

  Terry was searching for his rainboots when he heard a banging at the door. He turned quickly. There was nobody he would expect it to be. Mom was at work a couple of towns over, the sheriff wouldn’t show up in this weather, and Emma and the Stephens may not have even known he was alone.

  He walked to the door and peered through the peephole. There was nobody. He unlocked the door hoping he could get a better look around to see who it was. He slipped his head through the doorway.   There was nobody around and not a soul was lingering in the dark parts of the concrete hallway. He grunted off the annoyance, then shivered again and closed the door.

  The apartment began to reek of raw fish, the light on the ceiling began to flicker, and the hairs on Terry’s neck began to rise.

  A woman stood in the living room behind him.

  “It’s nice to see you again, Terry.” She spoke in a voice he couldn’t forget.

  He sneered. “What are you doing here, Cadence?”

  “I thought I would give my savior a visit,” Cadence said.

  She began to creep around the apartment. Water dripped on the carpet with each step.

  She continued. “I’m sure you understand you set me free.”

  “What do you want?” Terry asked.

  She stopped in her tracks. The air in the living room was devoid of warmth.

  “Ooh, hostile, I see,” Cadence spoke in her sing-song voice. “I just wanted to thank you for your help.”

  “What?” Terry narrowed his eyes at her.

  “You set me free by allowing a portal to open, and you killed the only man able to stop me.”

  Terry watched her with his fists clenched at his side. His voice began to deepen. “I didn’t kill anybody. You tricked me.”

  She became serious and walked closer to Terry.

  “Yes, and I am not done.” She spoke as a demon ready to suck him dry. “Where is the crystal?”

  He tried to turn away from her, but she snatched him by the throat. When he tried to break her prying grasp, she lifted and pressed him against the door. He waved his feet in the air, hoping to kick her and break free, but he couldn’t hit her hard enough. He could feel her nails slowly digging into his skin and his blood circulation cutting off. She tossed him onto the living room rug.

  He gasped for air in a fit of coughs, and those coughs caused tears to swell in his eyes. She began to tower over him.

  “I don’t know where it is!” He began to plead.

  She hissed. “Where is it?”

  “I lost it!”

  There was a knock from the downstairs neighbors. The kind where they bang a broom on their ceiling to warn the upstairs that, if they don’t keep it down, they’re calling the police.

  Cadence turned. “I will let you live for now, but if you do not bring it to me by the end of the night,” she pointed at him. “There will be consequences.”

  Terry turned to look, and Cadence was gone as quickly as she had come. He stayed on the floor for a moment, letting the pressure around his neck turn to a numbing swell. When the pain subsided, he sat up and thought about what he needed to do.

  The stench of raw fish in the living room began to subside.

  He thought about everything and remembered Clines saying he came up with a way to kill Cadence.

  Terry grabbed his backpack and shoved anything he could need into it. He threw on some boots, grabbed a flashlight from a drawer in the kitchen, and raided the pantry for snacks and water bottles. He locked the door as he was leaving.