𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐍 𝐍𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐄𝐒

𝖈𝖍𝖆𝖕𝖙𝖊𝖗 𝖓𝖎𝖓𝖊

"Cujo, come!"

You whistled with your thumb and index finger between your teeth. Your voice traveled further in the night without far-away traffic echoing in the air. The lights of the boardwalk never carried this far up the hill and the night settled heavily around you as you stood in the doorway of your cottage, waiting for your dog to come bounding over the treeline.

You felt bad for leaving Sam all alone in the house, but you couldn't stand being in the echo of Michael's presence for a second longer. Whatever stick he had up his ass was sharper than you thought. You needed at least a few minutes to cool down after hearing what he said about you.

God, who knew boys from Arizona could be such douchebags?

It didn't take very long for Cujo to appear—a cloud of white and dusty brown fur—and soon you could hear the familiar jingle of his collar as he hopped up onto your little porch and ducked between your legs to find his usual spot at the foot of your bed. You smiled and reached up to latch the door before crawling into bed beside him.

The wind picked up almost instantly, making the wooden frame of the building shift and groan. Cujo whined and buried his head between his front paws, sinking deep in your blankets. In the distance, a motorcycle was revving its engine. Michael must finally be leaving.

Good riddance.

You debated sticking your tongue out in the direction of the retreating sound, but you were stopped short when another gust of wind blew through the field, much stronger and significantly louder.

"....(Y/N)....(Y/N)...."

A voice whispered through the trees, just soft enough that you wondered if you had even heard it correctly, but loud enough that it pulled you out of bed and coaxed you to stand underneath the window and peer outside into the silvery darkness. A deep chuckle rumbled through the air like faraway thunder, making you shiver and shy away from the glass.

"What the fuck?" you whispered to nobody but yourself.

Cujo was on high alert—springing out from under the covers and stationing himself at the door. A couple hundred pounds of drool and fur, growling at the empty yard with his teeth bared protectively. Every few weeks a coyote would wander into the yard to rile up the horses. But as far as you could tell, the yard was just as bare as ever tonight. No coyotes. No nothing.

Not fully trusting your own judgment, you nudged Cujo aside and unlatched the door just barely enough that you could stick your head out and listen.

Crickets. Chirping crickets.

No horses baying. No screams of pre-pubescent dread from the main house. Not even the windchimes that had moments ago been beating fervently against the wall. Even the wind was holding its breath. The air was heavy, yes, but silent too.

You took a deep breath to steady yourself. "Hello?" you called out, listening as your voice echoed unevenly.

The lights were off in the main house, so you figured that Sam must've gone to bed. You hoped Mr. E would be home soon. Or Lucy, at least. You were usually fine when it came to being all alone at night, knowing that the necessary wards were in place to stop anything from truly harming you. But there was something about the darkness tonight that rubbed you the wrong way—made you feel uneasy about being alone.

But as it turned out, you weren't nearly as isolated as you thought.

"Can I come in?"

"JESUS-!" You screamed, jumping back at the sound of a foreign voice behind you. Through the darkness, a single moonbeam slipped down through the clouds and illuminated a shadowy silhouette perched in the center of your window. The window that had been shut just two seconds ago.