July, 1987 Santa Carla
A dark cloud hung over the Emerson household, blocking the light of the sun and casting a shadow over the house, promising a storm in the near future.
Tension reigned throughout the house as days passed that George Emerson grew steadily less human.
The Emerson family, plus one Star, had to answer some hard questions and decide which hard decisions to make. They finally sat down to have that conversation the day after George Emerson sequestered himself in his taxidermy workshop. He refused to leave for anything.
Michael stared vacantly at the closed sliding doors to the workshop from across the house where the rest of his family were sitting in the kitchen. He was trying in vain to tune out the annoying tenor of Edgar Frog's voice. He mentally cursed Sam for inviting the two Frog brothers.
"I say we stake him now. While it's still daylight and he's weak," Edgar's gravelly voice finally broke through Michael's concentration.
Michael glanced at his mom, taking in her pale face and pinched expression. She didn't deserve this. She shouldn't have to sit there and listen to a couple of tactless prepubescent teenagers talk about killing her father with such a blase attitude they could have been discussing the weather.
"Or we could go after the Widow Johnson," Sam argued.
"There's no guarantee that she's really the head vampire," Alan huffed in annoyance.
Michael ground his jaw.
"We don't know that she's not the head vampire either," Sam pressed.
Michael's his gaze roamed over the kitchen's interior. It was probably cleaner than it had been in years. Any damage sustained from That Night was completely erased as though it had never happened. Instead of questioning the miraculous recovery, his family was just grateful they didn't have to deal with the physical aftermath of That Night.
"As long as the Widow Johnson is alive, we are all in danger," Star at last spoke up.
"That's the one thing we actually do know Captain Obvious," Edgar rumbled.
Star crossed her arms and rolled her eyes.
"We should at least try to take out the Widow," Sam pleaded. He turned to Michael who was reminded how young his little brother still was. "Mike, what do you think we should do?"
Jesus Christ, he did not want to have this conversation. For a moment he wished with all his heart that he could go back and do everything different. He wished he had never followed Star around the boardwalk. He wished he had never challenged the Lost Boys. Most of all, he wished he had taken Star seriously when she warned him it really was blood in that gaudy wine bottle.
He looked to the closed doors of his grandfather's workshop. "I think... we should ask grandpa what he wants."
It would buy him a little time.
"What if," Lucy Emerson at last spoke up, "we don't go after anyone?"
She was staring hard into the distance, refusing to meet anybody's gaze.
"Mom?" Michael rasped.
"What if we... feed him. Someone can talk to his taxidermy friends. We could feed him... those animals."
Michael felt sick. His mother was seriously suggesting they feed her dad like he was some kind of nightmare pet from hell.
A cacophony of denial rang around the room.
YOU ARE READING
Something Wicked
Fanfiction[COMPLETED] October Oakley was living a perfectly ordinary life in 2018 when she unexpectedly gets sent back in time to resurrect the Lost Boys because apparently she's a witch. At least that's what a mind reading cat told her. If only said cat woul...
