The shorter man had square black rimmed glasses and was wearing a deep sea blue old navy t-shirt. The taller man had a short scraggily beard and wore a red vest over a plaid shirt with the sleeves pulled up to his elbows.
“Hello miss, my name is Camille Ireland. These are my partners, Specs,” she looked to the shorter man with glasses. “And Wally. I believe we received a call from this particular house. Am I correct?” Camille asked with a raised eyebrow. I thought about yelling at the top of my lungs, “You’re darn tootin’ you got the right place now get your asses in here!” But I thought against it and said, “Yes this is the right place,” instead. They came in and looked all around the house. Just looked. They didn’t touch anything or say anything at all. After a long while and they had gone through the whole house without a word and my patients had reached it’s limit I finally spoke up. “Alright listen you bunch of wackos. I don’t know who you are or what the hell you do, but I’d like some answers and I’d like them now. Where. Is. My. Baby!?” I yelled and my mother came over to me and and pulled me away from them. For fear of my lashing out and attacking them. They didn’t answer so I tried calming down and bit and asked more calmly, “Do you know where my baby is?” Camille smiled and stepped forward a bit. “Oh I know where Nick is, and there is very little chance you will actually find him let alone bring him back.” She answered so simply and so sure of herself and that only fueled my anger. “I’ll do whatever it takes to have my baby back,” my voice hardened when I spoke and I glared at Camille. I didn’t even bother asking how she knew my son’s name. Mom probably told her. She merely looked back at me calmly and said, “Very well then,” she sat in a chair at the dining table. “I’ll tell you what I know.”
Specs and Wally stood behind Camille. I sat across from Camille and my parents stood behind me. “Alright, here’s what I do know,” Camille started and I sat back in my seat, arms crossed and fists clenched. Waiting for her to continue. “Your son was taken by one of the darkest creatures of the underworld. A Bog. A dark creature that steals souls and takes them away to a land of darkness. They look as if they are a simple shadow, but they are much, much more than that. They can move things on their own. They can move things without touching them. They can cause chaos and disaster. They can make your worst nightmare come to life. Bogs are shadows of death. They do not believe in happiness, excitement, or love. Only hatred, sadness, anger, and fear. Bogs steals the souls of others for many reasons. Their own amusement. To torture them. To eat them. Sometimes for no reason at all. But once they have someone in their sights they do not let go of them until they have them.” She paused. Waiting for me to say something. When I said nothing she continued. “This particular Bog has chosen your son as it’s victim. Why I am not sure but I do know that he has taken your son back to the place where the Bog itself once lived when it was still alive.” I sat forward and interrupted her. “Wait, so a Bog was once a living human being?” I ask rather skeptical. She nodded. “Oh they were indeed once living. Bogs are created by the tortured souls of someone who was once alive and died. When they can’t get a soul they feed off fear and anger and pain. This Bog has always been around you because of your anger. It was feeding off you for years and years until it could find something else of yours to take,” she continued. “Nick...” I whispered sadly. “Precisely,” she said and began to go on.
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