Eidolon

Chapter 8: Aftermath

It took almost forty-five minutes for Alex to get home on foot, even though she ran nearly the entire way, pausing only to catch her breath when she absolutely could not push herself any further. Her costume was drenched in sweat by the time she made it there, which combined with the mid-Autumn chill equaled a bitter cold that had numbed her limbs to the bone. Her legs, especially, felt as though they might freeze and crack apart. By the time she stumbled through the front door, it was a wonder her body was moving at all, fueled solely by adrenaline and panic.

The house was empty. Her father wouldn't be home until a little after five, and Sarah had no doubt gone out with her friends, whatever her plans for the evening had been. No one would even know how late she was getting home.

Her body was essentially on auto pilot at this point, moving without any conscious thought. The cold and fatigue began to set in as she ascended the stairs to the bathroom. Her limbs were stiff and achy. Her nose was running, and her throat was raspy. She tossed her backpack on the floor, tore off her costume, and climbed into the shower. The stinging heat of the water felt good, but she found she could barely stand anymore, so she knelt, then sat in the basin of the tub, letting the water stream down over her back and face. She wrapped her arms around her knees, pulling them tightly against her chest, and wept quietly for some time.

She was exhausted, not just physically, but emotionally, spiritually. She felt drained, as though her body and mind had been completely depleted. She found herself laying down on her bed now, wrapped in a towel, though she didn't even remember getting out of the shower. Despite the fear and panic swirling in her mind, and the painful aching of her body, she succumbed to her fatigue, and slipped off into a restless sleep.

When she awoke again, she felt it was very late. At some point, she had apparently rose from her bed and put on a pair of fuzzy lavender pajamas that her Aunt Crystal had given her for Christmas last year. She didn't remember doing that, either.

I should call the police, she realized suddenly. She snatched up her phone from the bedside table, and started to dial emergency services. Lucas was dead, and she was the only one who knew. She had to let someone know that—what? That he had been murdered and partially eaten by a giant H.R. Giger monster? She cancelled the call before it started to ring.

If she was lucky, they would just think it was a prank. More likely, though, they would think she was crazy, or on drugs. It was bad enough seeing a shrink on a monthly basis—who knew what they would do with her if they thought she was suffering from some kind of hallucination?

But what if it was a hallucination? It had seemed so terribly real, but could she really discount the possibility that she actually was going insane? The things she had been seeing lately—the strange reflection of herself, the woman on the roof of Weisman's Drug Store, and now this terrible monster...no one else had seen any of it. Only her. What if none of it was real?

Without thinking, she dialed Lucas's number instead. Her breath paused as she waited, listening to the dial tone. She actually wanted to confirm that she was losing her mind, just as long as it meant he was okay. She needed to hear his voice.

Her patience was rewarded with a cheery "Hello!"

"Lucas!" she exclaimed, nearly collapsing with relief. "Oh, thank God! I thought—"

"...Gotcha! I'm actually not available right now. Please leave a message. Ciao!"

Alex felt her heart drop down into her stomach, and let the phone drop out of her hands on onto her bed as she curled up into a fetal position. Of course. Even if he was still alive, it was the middle of the night. His phone was probably off, or on silent, or...