What Lies Beneath

Something's Wrong

Greeted by the sun-drenched shore, the trio emerges from the forest. With the shed behind them, there's a sense of safety, but it's hard to feel like you're away from danger when the path back was different than the path there. The time that had passed since they entered the trees seems off, too; Daniel could have sworn that they hadn't even broken noon when their walk began, yet it's 2:34 PM when he checks the time on his phone. Spencer can feel it, too - that shortened passage of time. However, his mind is not on the clock; he is still pondering the pictures left behind by someone other than themselves. There are things they are not sure of, things that don't make much sense, but perhaps it's all a factor of small-town life.

"Hey, city boys," says Jordan, waving her hand at the two of them. "Look." She points to the other side of this small shore, where the trees began again. There, nibbling on the overgrown forest grasses, are three deer.

Spencer gasps softly, and the deer each look up, ears twitching and legs set to run if need be. None of the young adults move as they watch the animals, mirroring each other.

The smallest deer, set behind the other two, sees Daniel move even an inch, and she takes off into the woods. After her, the other two turn and run. Still, in their absence, it's hard to speak. Daniel and Spencer had never seen deer in person before, but Jordan can recall dozens of memories of spotting them in her childhood. They would be found in her yard, nibbling on her mother's plants. Her father would place food out there for them to eat so Jordan could see them more and more often, despite how much her mother hated it.

"They're beautiful," says Spencer, breaking their silent trance.

"They were," agrees Daniel. He looks along the shore, watching the water slowly lap at the rocky sand. Even though he's come out here in the summer so often, he cannot remember seeing deer, or any animals for that matter, freely walking into the yard. Even those deer lingered on the edge.

Something else has caught his eye, though. There is a mark in the sand like something had been dragged into the water. He tells himself that it's nothing, that some animal came by while they were out, or maybe it was there all along. After all, how often can he expect to be eyeing the shore for details?

Given that Spencer and Jordan didn't notice, he walks into the house without saying a word about the mark. There were dozens of explanations that he could list off.

Stretching out, Jordan kicks off her shoes. "I'm feeling like a good bowl of chips," she announces. "Anyone else?"

"Yeah, and a drink," Spencer agrees, leaving his shoes by the door.

"I think I'm all set," Daniel replies. He ate this morning, and that is good enough for a while. It isn't even three in the afternoon, after all.

Jordan heads off into the kitchen, the boys following close behind her. However, as Spencer pulls open the fridge, he notices that there's no power.

"Uh, Danny?"

"What's up, Spence?"

"There's no power, man."

Daniel, brows furrowed, walks up to Spencer, and he peers over. Of course, Spencer was right; the refrigerator was dark. "Ah, shit," he mutters. "Grab your drink. I'll go check the box downstairs."

"I hope it isn't, like, broken or something," Jordan comments. "I wanted to catch a good movie tonight."

Daniel laughs, splitting up from his friends to go downstairs.

The basement is cold, and there is no window to let in light. To guide him, Daniel is forced to use the dull light of his phone's flashlight. Though covering a lot of space, Daniel can still see barely a foot in front of him. He lingers at the walls, grazing his fingers against the cold concrete to guide him forward with each step. And with each step, a cold shiver runs up his legs.

Taking it slow, step by agonizing step, Daniel tries to recall where the fuse box might be, but it's hard to think about the layout of this space when he's standing in the dark.

Something wet seeps into his sock, and he lets out a low groan. He catches a glimmer of water in the light and flashes his phone upwards, checking to make sure there isn't a leak. Of course, his father has someone take care of this place, so he wouldn't suspect that anything is wrong.

And, of course, there's no leak.

Only when he looks back down at the gray floors does he notice what the wet patches actually were. Scattered along the ground, there are strange footprints. Not quite human, Daniel doesn't recognize it as any animal footprint he's ever seen before. They're too long, too thin, and they drag forward slightly, just like that marking in the sand.

He moves slower now, afraid to catch the attention of whoever - whatever - left these prints. Each time his toes squelch into his wet socks, he shivers. His focus, however, is on finding the fuse box and getting the power back on.

As he traces the wall, he keeps an eye on the prints, trying to figure out where they had started, and where they had gone. It seems to him like they followed the path he now walks, circling around the stairway to the basement. Together, Daniel and these wet markings walked towards the furthest corner. Only there did Daniel find the box he was searching for.

A few flipped switches and the basement fills with light. Compared to the weak light from his phone, this blinds him, and Daniel groans. At least the power is back on, he thinks.

As Daniel climbs the stairs, leaving one damp footprint in his wake, he realizes that he'll have no excuse for his new nervousness or a reason that took him so long. He can't stop thinking about those wet markings in the concrete; each time his toes sink into the soaked fabric of his socks, he thinks of what creature had been down there, slinking around like a slug in the dark. What, he wonders, would have happened if they were home while that thing was down there.

He would rather not think about that.

"There you are," says Jordan. "Get lost in the dark?"

He laughs. "You could say that." Unsure of what to say to them, Daniel decides it's better not to say anything at all. They've just arrived in Dartming yesterday, and the last thing he wants to do scare them. Their early morning visit to that curious little shop was more than enough.

Just when he was about to ask where Spencer was, the blond poked his head out from around the staircase. "Guys, c'mere," he says. "I found some sweet games we can play."

"I knew you'd find our stash eventually," says Daniel. He smiles, but it feels wrong. The whole thing feels wrong, and part of him wonders now if they are even meant to be here.

"C'mon," Spencer urges, disappearing once more up the stairs.

"Well, you heard the man," Jordan replies, and she follows him up.

Daniel, not willing to be alone, does the same.