I can still remember staring down the shotgun barrel. Just when I thought that Mr. Unger was gonna shoot me right between the eyes, he jerked the gun over about a foot, leveling it at the door.
Even though I was little, I've never forgotten a single detail. Not the old man's figurines that he never let me touch. Not the terrified fox mashed against my leg. Not the lopsided stain on the floor--the one shaped like a squished butterfly and dark like blood.
"Something bad is out there." My voice was soft and small, as small as I felt.
Mr. Unger didn't argue because he knew I was right.
The old man's dog growled as it stared at the door, standing between us and what waited outside. The fur between its shoulders stood up like a shark fin.
With his hands trembling around the shotgun, Mr. Unger said, "There's real badness in this world. It's got a heart blacker'n pitch ..."
That's when the knocking started.
Tap. Tap. Tap.
"Like the devil's nippin' at your backside ..." Mr. Unger's finger tightened around the trigger. "Sweet Jesus--"
"Jack Jericho." The voice on the other side of the door was like a song.
Tap tap tap.
The knocking slowed until it was one long knock, as if time had stretched out.
Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap-tap-taaaaaaaap.
Kon the fox pressed closer, her fur soft against my hand. Her ears feathered back against her head and her tail stuck straight out.
Mr. Unger started, "We should--"
The door swung open, cutting off what he was gonna say.
Then a soft voice hissed out of the dark, "Jack Jericho, you're mine. You always have been. When I come for you again, I will consume you and all you love ... and nothing will stop me."
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A TAIL OF NINE
FantasyKitsune have more names than there are stars in the sky, but I only have one--Jack Jericho. Call Kon of the Many Tails whatever you want-fox-spirit, monster, kitsune, myth-to me, she's one thing-mom. But everybody's got a past, and hers is about to...