Fiend Zoned

Part 4

Incidents. It was a bland, clinical word, but Becky didn't know what else to use. Calling them attacks didn't seem right: she had never been hurt or even really threatened. Seth was worried, though, and had asked her to stay at his place until things were sorted out. Part of her wondered if it was just an elaborate way to get her to move in, but that was ridiculous: they were already engaged, so living together at some point was pretty much a given, and Seth seemed just as disturbed by seeing the pig puppet in Catering as she had been.

Becky wasn't about to give up her California life for good, of course. She arranged for a friend to housesit for her while she was away and hoped that the Wyatt weirdness hadn't rubbed off on her place. Since she didn't plan to be gone for all that long, she only packed two boxes of clothes and books; if she needed anything in a pinch, she could call her friend and get it sent over by courier.

Wearing the roll of packing tape around her wrist like a bracelet, Becky carried one box down to the foyer and headed back upstairs to get the next. Her phone beeped on the way, so she stopped on the landing, glancing down before pulling her phone out of her pocket.

The box she had just taken down was gone.

Another beep from the phone. This time she recognized it as the tone she had set for Seth, so she glanced down at the screen. Hey, babe, followed by some hearts. Then Everything okay? Don't worry too much about packing. We can grab whatever you need here.

All good, she typed quickly. Just bringing the last box down and then I'll call the courier. Then Becky looked down at the foyer again. The box was there, but it didn't look right. She had left it flush against the wall and now it was in the middle of the floor, light glinting off the torn strip of tape. Instead of grabbing the second box, Becky took a can of hair spray from her bathroom and went back downstairs, gaze sweeping back and forth. "Paranoia by puppet," she muttered to herself, tucking her phone back in her pocket. "What the fuck is wrong with me?" Seth's tone chimed again, but Becky ignored it as she crept forward to the box. The urge to kick it was ridiculously strong, but she didn't want to damage any books she had inside.

Why didn't you run, Rebecca? The voice seemed to echo off the floor, off the walls, off her bones. The rabbit told you. The witch told you. You might have had a chance. The box lid popped up, revealing a gnarled bird's head. Now he's gonna get you. Darkness falls, and so will you.

Becky's phone beeped again, making her jump, and when she blinked the bird was gone, her box back against the wall and taped up. Setting the can of hair spray to the side, Becky knelt by the box and tore the tape free, pawing though everything she had packed. All there, all where she had put it, with no sign of tampering. "Fuck." Hands shaking, she took the roll of packing tape from her wrist and resealed the box. Then she retreated to the stairs and pulled her phone out again. Steve Austin didn't live far from her; if he was home and he wasn't busy, maybe he could come over for a beer. . . .

As she opened Seth's latest text, she was dreading some question like Has anything weird happened? She didn't want to lie to him, but he was already so fixated on his upcoming feud with The Fiend. Luckily it was just a gif of a pug bumping into walls because there was a box over its head. The second message was a caption: Me without you here.

Laughing, Becky slumped back against the stair railing. Then take the box off your head, you dope, she replied, putting a kiss-print emoji after it. Then she found the beer emoji and added Going to call Steve and see if he wants a beer.

Before she could lose her nerve, Becky did just that. The second box could stay upstairs for a little while longer. Good company and good beer ought to clear her head.