"Earthquakes?" Mom mutters quizzically. "In Delaware?" She glances over at Dad, who looks up from the book he had in his lap. I point the remote at the television, increasing the volume.
The news anchor seems more alarmed than usual, chattering about safety protocols and quick measures that everyone ought to be taking. My father huffs from his chair, leaning up and setting his book aside - even he can't ignore such strange news.
"Max, bring the dog in." Dad orders, using that intolerant tone. I didn't waste any time doing as he said, brushing past mom and darting toward the backdoor to the backyard, where Bella should be. I shove the stubborn door open with the usual necessary force. Strangely, it felt as though someone was pushing against it. I pry it open, stumbling onto the deck. A gust of cold air slams me directly, and a thick fog settles around me. Hastily, I rub my arms, shouting for our dog to come inside.
She doesn't come sprinting as she usually would. Sighing, I hold my trembling hands out in front of me, shuffling with one foot guiding the other. There's no visibility whatsoever, and surely I'd fall down the steps if I wasn't cautious.
The thick fog casts an ominous chill, dampening my clothes. It's strange, especially for a midsummer afternoon. But maybe it traveled from the sea, the shore's a few blocks away from our neighborhood. "Bella!" I call again, losing my patience with her. As soon as my sandal touches the dewy blades of grass, I shuffle in the general direction of her doghouse. I'm overwhelmed with relief when I feel my hand touch the sign with her name carved in it. I can hear her heavy panting, soft whines slipping from her throat.
"Bells, come on," I grumble, squatting down to duck into her house. Though as soon as I sit on my haunches, I freeze in place. Bella's thick, russet brown fur was weighed with water, as though she'd been rained on. Her large paws are pulled over her head, and her fluffy tail is curled between her legs, quivering. She peers up at me with those hazel eyes, and my heart sinks at the gaping fear that haunts them. I sigh, rubbing her head reassuringly. I'd never seen her scared of anything before, not even the harsh storms that cast over the sea. Bella's always commended for maintaining her composure; seeing her curled up in a little ball, riddled with fear is all the more alarming. Maybe she's sensing the earthquake.
She whines as I tug her collar, pulling her up. She crawls with her head low, and I keep my hold on her collar to avoid losing her in this fog. The light from the house dims, and the faintness of the loud television from inside stops abruptly. "Max!" My mother called from inside, I can hear the tension weighing her voice. Bella presses herself into my leg, refusing to walk with me, no matter how much I tug.
"What the hell has gotten into you?" I demand in frustration. She's never been this spooked by something.
In the distance, I hear the waves sloshing against the shore, loud and rambunctiously. It's usually something that fades into the background, however the reek of the sea was especially potent. The air feels heavy and thick with moisture. I look around aimlessly, wondering just how an earthquake could provoke so many absurdities. Surely, it can't be that bad. "Max?" My father calls.
"Coming!" I respond, this was no time to scare my parents. There's a faint humming in the distance, off toward the sea. The reverb felt familiar, simmering in the thick air. It must have been the foghorn. Though the noise never ceases, it's carried in the wind, echoing around town. I can feel it rattling my core.
"What's taking so long?" Dad demands, I hear him step out onto our deck, but I can't make out as much as his silhouette. He curses, muttering something about the fog's intense presence.
The humming of the horn magnifies, filling the void of crashing waves and rushing sea breezes. The salt in the air is bitter, and I can feel my eyes starting to sting as the wind whistles and swirls vigorously around me. I somehow decipher my parents' panicked voices in the commotion, but their words weren't clear. "What?" I reply.
"Why aren't you moving?" Mom inquires, her voice was fading, like the wind was carrying it away and sending it into the vibrations of the foghorn.
"I can't!" I respond, looking down at Bella, who refused to pull her weight off my leg. "Bella won't...."a haziness washes over me, and I manage to catch a glimmer of Bella's hazel eyes. Though she wasn't looking at me.
I turn my head in the direction she's looking, peering over where our fence should be. I fully expected to see a bird or something of our nature, but there wasn't. The hum of the horn rumbles around me, cementing my feet to the ground.
Amongst the fog, there stood an immense, lanky figure, swaying left and right as though it were walking. It's long torso had inky black limbs dangling from it, which sway as it saunters toward us.
My muscles tense, hard enough to cramp and ache. Chills slither down my spine, and the vibrations consume the earth, rumbling rhythmically as the silhouette takes another step forward. It haunts my stupor with its foreboding presence. My jaw gapes, and I find myself unable to lift it again.
The weight of its next step shocks the earth beneath our feet, the delayed rush of it's deafening stomp hits me full force. I can hear our furniture crashing from inside. I hear my mother's horrified shriek, and the humming stops short. The vibrations still, and the creature's eyes snap open, two colossal, crimson bulbs beam brightly. The creature's beckoning glare flickers, and the red beams wash over us.
