T⃨u⃨r⃨n⃨ O⃨n⃨ T⃨h⃨e⃨ N⃨i⃨g⃨h⃨t⃨ | The Lost Boys

C⃨H⃨A⃨P⃨T⃨E⃨R⃨ T⃨W⃨E⃨N⃨T⃨Y⃨

⚠️WARNINGS: mind control, manipulation, GORE, descriptions of injury⚠️

The third day I awoke without Laddie in my arms, I decided it was time to take things into my own hands.

Passivity wasn't working, begging for godly intervention had failed me, and there was nothing left to cling to but violence.

I remembered where the boys lived, I knew that they stayed near the shoreline. While I might not know the exact directions to reach the cliffside, I was determined enough to walk the coastline until I found them and when I did, god have mercy on their souls. If they took Laddie away from me, as a sick joke, or something— those boys would be lucky to even be alive.

There was nothing inside of me that could forgive them for that.

Pulling on my tattered jean jacket, I rubbed a hand down my filthy face. I hadn't slept well the night before— no longer haunted by figures with glowing eyes, but in their place came dreams of Laddie. He'd been crying last night, begging for me to someone who wouldn't listen. They'd done something to him, and he was scared and hungry in a way he'd never known before.

I'd never been one to put much stock in foreknowledge, but I slipped a pistol into the band of my jeans anyway.

If someone had done anything to my son, they weren't going to last the night.

I started my trek at sundown. There was the faintest hope I'd run into one of them before I reached the cave. They'd avoided the boardwalk for days, but I knew that their abstinence wouldn't last. Sooner or later, they'd have to resurface.

Yet, as I walked down the shoreline and then trekked to the nearby road, I saw nothing of the boys.

Only the moon came out to comfort me.

The night was lonely and silent. Gifting me nothing of comfort but the companionship of my own thoughts. The sound of my broken tennis shoes echoed on the concrete, the lose sole slapping in tandem to my steps. The noise had a slightly hypnotizing effect— luring me into my thoughts as I trudged down the road.

Lately, my mind was a dangerous place to linger. I held so much fury and so little self-regard, it was difficult to form rational thought.

When the street was flooded in headlights, I stepped out of the way, expecting the car to drive past me like all the others. What I didn't expect was for the hunk of metal to roll to a crawl next to me. I spared a glance to the car, grimacing at the bright lights that swamped my vision.

I didn't stop my stride, anticipating the stranger to drive off, "I'm fine. Thanks."

"Now, I don't think I believe that," the voice had hints of concern hidden in their response and I groaned as I heard the engine roll over. The stranger's car door opened with an ominous creak, "You don't look well. Do you have any one I can call?"

I spun on my heel, incredulous at the audacity of the stranger, "Someone to call?" My voice cracked as I threw my hands up, "No! I've got no one! Now look—" with a sudden burst of exhaustion, I rubbed at my face, "Please, just leave me alone."

The stranger didn't react to my outburst. Standing tall next to the car, the garishly dressed stranger merely tucked his hands in his pockets as he observed me. The glasses perched on his nose were too big for his face, giving him a bit of an oafish appearance. If it weren't for the flash of worry he offered, I would have completely disregarded him.

As it was though, that was the first glimpse of kindness I'd been offered in days.

"Where are you going?" He offered, taking a tentative step toward me, "I'm heading out of town and if you're going that way, well, it'd be impolite of me to leave a young woman stranded."