Strange Worlds [Miss Peregrine's Home for Peculiar Children] Enoch O'Connor

twenty-three

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
BLIND MEN

"We call them Hollowgast, hollows for short." Miss Peregrine started, taking a seat on the arm of the metal chair.

"My grandpa told us about people who turned into monsters." Jacob nodded, moving in the chair as it seemed uncomfortable. "Is that what they are?"

"I will explain everything. I fear it's my duty now, considering... I knew you two were peculiar when you were born, but Abe forbid me from telling you anything. But as I have said, his wish was for the both of you to have an ordinary childhood."

There was a moment of pause, remembering the past ten minutes when we blew up at her, yelling and accusing her of lying to us. All she wanted to do was protect us from this horrible world that we live in.

"He intended to tell you the truth when you both turned eighteen. He hoped his 'bedtime stories' would pave the way." She grabbed the book from under her arms and opened it to a page, handing it towards us, "Many years ago, a splinter faction emerged among our people. Disaffected peculiarity tired of living in loops."

"That's Barron," Jacob said, pointing to the man in the middle of the picture. I looked at it and turned towards the boy I called my brother, how did he know that? Though the man looked familiar and I couldn't place where I'd seen him before. I guessed that Emma had perhaps been telling Jacob more than I know while they were one their raundevoues.

"He believed that by harnessing the essence of a Ymbryne's powers, he and his cronies could gain immortality and be able to live outside loops. He devised an experiment. He kidnapped a Ymbryne, not knowing or caring whether she would survive the experiment. But the fate of Barron and his group was more horrifying still."

She flicked through the page once more to show more images, ones of people with white eyes and sharp teeth. I finally knew where I had seen Barron before. He was the blind man that day our grandfather died, and he was behind this.

"They had become not immortal gods, but hollows—invisible beasts, dangerous, cold-blooded, deadly. But years later, he found a way to reverse the effects. To regain humanity. Barron discovered that by consuming the eyes of other peculiars, especially children, he began to change. Consume enough, and a hollow can fully regain its human form, to turn into a Wight. Just as Barron and some of his friends did."

Jacob and I froze, thinking everything through. Our grandfather's eyes were missing when we found him, the one thing that allowed him to see the beasts, and they ate them. It was devastating, disgusting.

"It can be difficult to distinguish Wights from common folk, though there are certain indicators. Their eyes, for instance, wights lack pupils." She pointed to the picture where the white eyes were shown clearly.

"I... I think we've seen one. I'm sure it was Barron." I said slowly, remembering where I'd seen Barron before. "And the other day, this strange man arrived on the island. But I couldn't see his eyes."

"Do you think he could be one of them?" Jacob asked.

"Perhaps they followed you here to find this place." Miss Peregrine said. "Especially if you think a hollogast has followed."

"But how could they have known we're peculiar? I didn't even know!" Jacob cried.

"If they knew about your grandfather, you can be certain they knew about you, as well."

"Will we ever be safe anywhere?" I asked, sighing, and my hands covered my head.

"You're safe here. And you may live with us as long as you like. Your parents may love you, but they'll never understand."

"We can't stay. Not tonight." I answered, shaking my head. "If we do plan to stay, we have to say goodbye. People from our timeline can't just disappear into thin air."

"Very well." Miss peregrine nodded. And with that last comment, Miss Peregrine left us alone in the greenhouse to think over what the possibilities are of staying.

Jacob turned to me, a knowing look. He wanted to stay while I didn't know what I wanted. He was sure of himself when he had once asked if we could stay. We belonged between worlds. We were neither human nor peculiar. We had parents, but they didn't love us. We had a friend, but that was just one.

It was hard because I didn't want to leave, not because I loved my life or our parents, but because I knew we couldn't just leave. Our mother was very self cantered. Who knew what she would think or do if we just left. But then how can we go after everything that's happened here?

Jacob and I were weary when we went back through the loop. We know knew there was a possible wight and hollow on this island. Miss Peregrine and I knew the risks of coming back through, mainly if we chose to come back.

We were only certain on one thing, and that was that Jacob and I would make this choice together. We will not be alone in this.

Our father was quick to wrap his arms around us on a paddock where we had once met when the wheel had been killed - no - eaten by the hollow. My eyes widened as I knew what it must've meant for our father to be away at half-past eleven after we had left him sound asleep in our room.

"Oh, thank goodness." Our father gasped as he hugged us tighter, then pulled back. "Where have you been? I told you to stay at the motel!"

"We couldn't sleep." I was quick to answer. "What happened.

It was almost as if the lousy fortune had followed us to the island and in some way of probably had. I did not doubt that someone had followed us to this island. Whether it was Barron or one of his men, he was bound to be here, though where? The bird guy seemed rather sus. Perhaps we were to watch him if we ever attempted to head back to the loop anytime soon.

Our father wrapped us in a hug again and spoke soft words of worry as he pulled us back to the pub where over half the town was now gathered. I was, however, late in noticing the stench on his breath. My momentary warmth was dissipating as I realised he was drunk.

"Did you hear? They found Martin out in the ocean. He's dead! It looked like he'd taken a quick trip down a cliffside and got nibbled by sharks. Lord knows what business he had bein' out by the cliffs in the dead of night in just his robe and trolleys." We overheard from the pub after entering out of the rain.

"If He was out by the cliffs, maybe he saw the sheep killer and was chasin' after. What about the new squirrelly fellow? The one who's camping." Another guy pointed out.

"I ran into him two nights ago." We turned to our father, who now looked flushed in the face as he ordered a pint of beer.

He was drunk, again! Is this really what I had to live with if I stayed? I give him credit for looking for us. However, he seemed not to care too much longer. Perhaps he had only gone looking after someone had said something. After he woke and we weren't in bed.

"Did you notice anything strange about him? About his face?" Jacob asked.

"Yeah. He had on sunglasses at night, but what worse is that I could've sworn he looked blind. Weirdest damn thing." He sighed and passed on, heading up the stairs after chugging his beer.

Jacob and I shared a look of horror. We were right to feel frightened. But we cursed ourselves for not realising it sooner. He was a Wight. He had to be. No one dresses like him. Our father even confirmed that he looked blind.

We had to tell miss Peregrine.