Gwenllian and Felix jumped, their eyes wide at the sound of the door slamming.
I just leaned back against the wall, wondering at how quickly they’d gotten back from town. Maybe Grandad had forgotten his glasses.
“Hey Gram, I’m making cocoa, I hope you don’t mind. I promise I won’t have too much chocolate—” my voice trailed off as no one came through to the kitchen.
I expected to see Gram and Grandad come around the corner of the mudroom, their hair slightly wet, and their familiar faces ready to comfort me.
But no one was there.
Gwenllian visibly started to shake. She and Felix leapt from their stools and cowered by the refrigerator.
Walking around the counter, I looked into the mudroom. Nothing.
I cupped my hands and yelled. “Hello?”
Only the rain replied, lashing against the windows.
I turned to look back to my two friends, who had mostly hidden themselves under the farm table. Gwenllian’s face was twisted with horror, and Felix had covered his eyes and started to cry.
“What’s wrong?” I gasped.
“That!” Gwenllian shrieked, pointing directly behind me.
I wheeled around…only to look down and see something out of my worst nightmares. It had a shape like a skunk, except it was all black, and tiny tentacles sprouted from where its mouth should have been. A long, menacing tail whipped back and forth, dripping with a disgusting ooze, trailing slime in its wake. It didn’t walk, it slithered, and it was so black, it stood out a different color against the shadows near the stairwell and the mudroom.
“Get on the table!” I ordered, and they didn’t hesitate to obey. But strangely, the thing wasn’t going after them. And it moved fast.
I dodged its first swipe at me, and tried to reach for a rolling pin, but that was too far away. Falling hard, I barely had a moment to scramble away from its slime covered fingers.
The other two were screaming my name: “Jen! Be careful!”
The gun. I needed Grandad’s gun. I could only imagine his steely gaze when he got back and found me with it. I might get grounded for the rest of the summer. Especially for discharging it in the house. But I trusted myself, and I had to protect my friends from this monster.
It was in its safe on the other side of the kitchen, but with a sinking heart I knew he’d taken the key with him. Flying at it, I banged on the metal box with both hands, making my knuckles bleed. The creature was right behind me, and I felt its tentacles wrap around my leg. With a crash, I was on the ground, searing pain ripping up my side where the monster had touched. I screamed.
It was on top of me now.
The last things I saw were confused and desperate. There was a flash of light across the kitchen walls, and the sound of a pickup truck. Grandad was back! With the evil smelling breath of the creature, and it’s death like grasp squeezing the life out of me, I gave up, knowing help would come.
But as I looked up at the table, I noticed in horror that Gwenllian and Felix were also lying on the floor, their skin unnaturally pale, their faces gaunt, both unconscious.
The kitchen door banged, and with one last scream, I blacked out.
Something soft and cool was pressed against my forehead. I groaned. There was a dull pain behind my eyes, but I didn’t open them.
“The gun,” I whispered to myself.
“What about it?” my Grandad spoke, somewhere close by.
“I need the gun,” I breathed.
I felt his hand over mine. He spoke in his steady voice. “No, you don’t. You’re safe Jen.”
“You took the key with you,” I got more agitated. “I needed to kill the thing!”
“You’re safe Jen,” he repeated. “Nothing’s going to hurt you.”
I sat straight up and spoke rapidly. “This horrible black monster came in through the front door and started chasing me around the kitchen! I couldn’t get at it, and so I thought about the gun, and I knew you’d roast me if I used it when I wasn’t supposed to, but I had to kill that thing. And it wrapped around my leg, and…and…” I slowed to a stop, breathing quickly.
Grandad looked at me with his understanding blue eyes.
“That sounds like a foolish child’s tale,” I admitted, hanging my head and looking away from his gaze.
“I didn’t say that,” he raised a bristling eyebrow.
Gram opened the door, and I realized I was in my room: the familiar yellow rose bed sheets and light blue walls, decorated with artifacts from adventures I’d had over my lifetime. Most of them had been with Greg.
“It’s good to see you’re awake,” Gram sat down opposite Grandad and felt my forehead. “You can’t imagine how worried we were when we came in to find you lying on the floor like that!” She put a hand to her heart. “Goodness, you had us frightened.”
“Where are Gwenllian and Felix?” I speared her with a pleading gaze. “What happened to them Gram?”
She looked at Grandad and sighed. “They were taken to the hospital, sweetheart. They’re not doing well.”
“That’s because of the experiment!” I cried, more worked up then before.
“What experiment, Jen?” Grandad looked at me. His face was usually serious, but the wrinkles around his forehead and jaw were tightened. He meant business.
So, I told them all about the argument with Greg, the full details, and then about what I’d gotten out of Gwenllian and Felix afterwards. I ended with “and Gram, why didn’t you tell me Gwenllian was born in 1282?”
“Because I thought it wise not to until I knew more,” she shook her head. “But you suppose they’re fading now?”
“It sounds like it, Branwen,” Grandad shook his head. He stood up and put a hand on my head. “We’ll take you to the hospital to see them as soon as we can.”
“But what do I do?” I threw my hands up, destressed.
“You lay right back down and rest,” Gram ordered me. “You’re not fit for doing anything just yet. We’re going to go discus this with the Sheriff, you sit tight.”
I took the bed sentence with grudging, and halfway through the day, I jumped out of my covers and stomped downstairs. I couldn’t just lay there. Not with my two friends in the hospital. Not with this monster thing on the loose. No. I had to find it and finish it.
I banged down the stairs in a bristling fury, my red hair sticking out on end. Grandad and Gram were not there, but there was a sticky note on the fridge scrolled in signature Gram style saying: “got an urgent call and had to run to hospital. There’s leftovers in the fridge.”
“I don’t want leftovers,” I muttered, savagely kicking the ancient appliance and promptly regretting it. “I want my friends back.”
Grabbing my beaten-up sneakers, I raced out the front door and stormed in the direction of Greg’s house.
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