7 The Boy Who Hides

The cold morning air bit my face as I ran. Focusing on the road instead of my discomfort, I took measured breaths, in through the nose, out through the mouth. Yet even so, I wheezed embarrassingly; I was still very out of shape.

Morning runs were part of my Uncle's new training regiment. The schedule was the same, regardless of the weather, so even in the frigid January air, I was out here. It had been two weeks since I started, and every day I wanted to quit, throw my morning alarm against the wall and bury my head under the covers. Unfortunately, there were other, stronger motivations besides my uncle keeping me on track...

Whenever I started slipping back into old slothful habits, disturbing visions of invisible monsters, including more spider ghouls, cropped up. I wasn't even allowed to sit and binge TV for long before the Negasites started skittering around the walls, and I hadn't been able to touch a drink in peace since that day.

Leo's Aetheric Negative Parasites were too much of a mouthful to say on the regular, so I started calling them "Negasites" for short. I thought it was clever, but Leo called me a "coot" whatever the hell that meant. Regardless of the vernacular, the problem remained the same, and the solution demanded running. So, run I did. 

At the third mile marker, I came around the bend and slowed to a fast walk, puffing hard. I walked up to a chain link fence off the sidewalk, and placed my toes at the base of the fence post, stretching my hamstring as the morning traffic whizzed past behind me. Catching my breath, I glanced over the school playground on the opposite side of the chain link where children were at recess, running and laughing. 

In the contained chaos of their play, I saw one little boy, no more than eight, sitting on a swing by himself away from his classmates. Watching the boy, it felt as though I were seeing something and missing it at the same time. I stood up from the fence, brow furrowed, and tried to look closer. 

He swung lazily back and forth, staring down at his toes. I could make out his clothes were dirty, his hair disheveled and one of his laces was untied. I felt a tug inside my chest, as emotions I couldn't trace welled up in me. Somehow I knew, he was lonely... sad. I thought I could make out something behind him. I squinted and leaned forward over the fence trying to make it out. 

Suddenly the innocent playground was invaded by a nightmare. The boy swung forward, and a creature appeared, crouched behind him. It had swirling red patterns across black bare flesh, a long face with a pointed chin, and tall straight horns protruding out the top of its head. Black and yellow eyes leered at me as a forked tongue lashed across its lips. Startled, I sucked in a breath at the sight of it, but before I could fully comprehend what I'd seen, on the boy's backswing, the creature vanished.

"Can I help you?" A stern-looking woman yelled at me from the yard.

I flinched at the sound of her voice, and tried to shake off the disturbing image of the creature, 

"No, sorry, just...just stopped to stretch." I moved away from the fence and slowly picked up my jog again.

About a half hour later I ended my run at the entrance into Old Town and walked the rest of the way, stopping at Marv's diner across the street to grab a cup-of-joe and bagel before heading upstairs.

When I finally got home, I walked through the door and was greeted by the sight of Leo, lazing at my desk and reading a large, old-looking leather-bound book. I had no idea why, but he did that a lot; manifesting intangible objects, and acting out normal activities. By now I was starting to get used to his regular encroachments into my personal space and was unphased by his presence. 

I pulled the talisman from my pocket and tossed it with my breakfast on the counter before grabbing a mat from the wall, spreading it on the floor, and starting to stretch.

As I worked out my sore legs, I couldn't help thinking about the creature behind the boy. Sporadic monster sightings were becoming a daily occurrence, bothersome, but manageable. However, something about this creature hit differently. It wasn't just scary looking. This felt worse... More sinister. Hesitant though I was to talk about the things I would rather ignore, something told me I needed to understand what that creature was. Why did it disturb me more than the others? 

I sat up, "Hey," I said, "are some Negasites worse than others?"

Leo rolled his eyes at the word, "not really no," he said without looking up from his book. "They just feed on different emotions. Why?"

I described the wicked-looking creature I'd seen behind the boy and the way it unsettled me more than usual.

Leo closed the book with a snap. "Where is the child," he asked urgently.

I stopped mid-stretch. "Uh, at school. Why?"

Leo's face was serious, "That was no Aether parasite... That was a Watcher."

I stood up and grabbed the coffee from the counter. "What's the difference?" 

Leo got up from my desk and turned to look out the window, hands behind his back. "Watchers are manifestations of pure evil. While parasites feed on the energy you humans create, Watchers... influence you. Whisper in your ears and feed into your worst predilections. They hate humans and they live to revel in your suffering and destruction."

I put the cup down. "So they control us?" 

Leo looked back and shook his head, "No, no your choices are your own, they merely give suggestions and amplify your worst impulses. If a child is afflicted by a Watcher... John, you must help him."

I blinked, held my hands up, and looked around the room. "How exactly am I supposed to do that?" 

"The talisman's power. Did you feel something when you saw the boy?" 

I thought back to the playground, watching him swing, feeling his sadness. "I guess. Yeah, I did. He was sad. I don't think his home life is great." 

Leo nodded encouragingly. "You have his scent, you can track him." 

I gave him a flat look, "I'm not a dog dude." 

He waved at me dismissively, "His psychic scent, if you focus on him you can find him, confront his monster." 

I rubbed my face, "I don't know, I'm barely keeping a lid on my own problems right now." 

Without warning, Leo rushed me, stopping an inch from my nose, and backing me up against the counter. His expression shifted to something I hadn't seen in him before. It was pure rage, he was pissed. 

"I am not asking, Vessel," he said, his voice low and dangerous. In a flash of blue light, the room was overrun with Negasites. I looked down and watched in horror as they crawled up my legs and clawed at my skin.

"Whow, whow! OK just stop!"

In another flash of light, the room was clear once more, Leo still staring me down. It was terrifying. We stood in weighted silence until disrupted by my phone alarm.

Hands shaking slightly, I grabbed the phone and looked at the screen. "Jack is expecting me downstairs," I said, my voice quivering.

Leo said nothing, he just nodded. I moved past him and started towards the door. "Take it with you," he ordered.

I stopped, turned without facing him, and retrieved the talisman from the counter before walking out. 

I went down to Jack's bar, still rattled by Leo's behavior. I had never seen him like that before. He brought out the Negasites on purpose... There was no denying it, I was scared of him. This was just the latest reminder of how little I understood about my circumstances with Leo. 

Disturbing as it all was, Negasites and Watchers needed to take a backseat if I planned on keeping my apartment.

I entered the bar from the side door at the landing of my stairwell. Even this early in the morning there was always at least one person inside Jack's. Trying to act normal, I nodded to an older guy wearing a flat cap at the far end of the counter as I walked in. 

"Hey Larry," I greeted.

He lifted a glass to me, never taking his eyes off the game on the TV above the bar. Jack was behind the bar, leaning over a stack of paperwork with his back to me. He held up a finger as I took a stool, letting me know, he knew I was there and to wait.

Jack was another one of the old Black Cats, along with Uncle Chuck. His face was among those gracing my uncle's office wall, but he had retired early after his team was disbanded and took to running his family's old bar instead. Jack was a bit younger than my Uncle, in his late forties, tall, with a broad and muscular frame. He wore his usual plaid shirt and canvas apron while he managed his books.

After a few moments, Jack turned to face me. "John," he greeted, grabbing a pair of glasses and pouring us each a whiskey despite the hour.

My mouth watered at the sight of the dark liquid as the glass slid towards me. That was until a tiny, sickly green tentacle rose out of the glass and flopped over the edge. I shuddered.

"I'm actually cutting back." I said, pushing the glass back towards Jack.

He took it back without objection, "hm, probably a good idea." He downed both shots himself.

Jack flipped the glasses on the counter and looked up at me. I met his gaze, trying not to let the shame show. "What's the plan," he asked, clearing the counter and whipping it down.

"Well I've got a line on a new job. I'm heading over to their office today to see when I can start."

Jack nodded as he washed the glasses at a sink behind the bar. "That's good," he said. "Listen John, I'm going to be honest with you. I don't buy into this coddling shit. You're a man, and you have to pull your weight, same as the rest of us. If your Uncle hadn't called me and told me you were working with him again, you'd have been out on your ass weeks ago." 

The sinking feeling in my stomach worsened. I did my best not to let it show in my face. I nodded in understanding, "I get it." I said.

Jack threw his towel down. "You sure?" he asked. "Because we have a situation now. I haven't collected rent in two months and I have a line of potential tenants bugging me to take your place. Everyone thinks it's trendy to live above a bar," he rolled his eyes. "The point is, they can pay. So this is the new deal. Start paying what you owe by next month, or I'll let someone else have your place, even if they are a hippie," he grimaced at the word. 

It would have been funny if the situation weren't so severe. I nodded again.

"I like you John, but I've been way too soft on you. We all have. Get your shit together son." he reached over and patted my cheek roughly.

"Appreciate it." Was all I could say as he went back to his paperwork, leaving me to stew in my seat. 

I reached into my pocket, pulled out the permits I had just received in the mail, and looked it over. The office was only a couple of blocks from Old Town, near the courthouse. I could head there this afternoon and hopefully have a line on my first job before the end of the day

I rubbed my face trying to think through how to juggle securing an income with the new responsibilities Leo was putting on me. Ultimately I decided I needed to try to manage my money problems first, then I would look into the kid's situation.

I got up and made to leave, but as I turned, I caught a glimpse of my reflection in the mirror over the bar. In that split second, I saw the wicked-looking Watcher from the playground standing over my shoulder, leaning in close, tongue licking out towards my ear. I flinched and spun around scanning the bar. There was nothing, just Larry watching his soccer game. What the hell...

Despite my jangled nerves, I walked out to my car and headed to downtown proper. One short drive and a frustrating parking search later, I was standing outside the little office space across from the courthouse squeezed between a notary and a copier joint.

Tight Spot Bail Bonds was a hole-in-the-wall operation whose wanted ad for a new bail bonds recovery agent caught my eye a week prior. The owner had given me everything I needed to secure licensing for legitimate work, which had just arrived in the mail yesterday.

I walked through the door to the jingle of a bell overhead and was greeted by a ruckus coming from the back room that sounded like a pile of boxes being knocked over.

"Just a minute!" a woman's voice called out. 

A few moments later, a young woman with curly brown hair pulled back into a ponytail and a pair of thick eyeglasses came hurriedly out of the back office. She was out of breath and slightly disheveled with her bangs dangling in front of her nose.

"Oh, Hey John!" she greeted, blowing her hair out of her face. 

"You ok Penny?" I asked, craning around the wall separating the lobby from the back room to see what the noise was.

She giggled "Yeah, Jose just got in some boxes of pamphlets," she leaned in to whisper "but I think he over-ordered a little." She smiled brightly at me.

Penny, the receptionist, was younger than me by a few years. She was a short, slightly plump girl, who always wore a smile that complimented her bubbly personality. Penny was cute.

A man's gruff voice floated in from the back, swearing in Spanish. Penny rolled her eyes, "Jose, Johns here!" she hollered. More boxes crashed to the floor, and a dark-skinned portly man with a large mustache and an honest-to-god cowboy hat rounded the corner

"John! Good to see you," he shook my hand. "Did you bring your papers? 

I handed him my new credentials. He glanced at it and nodded. "Boy am I glad you came through, I'm down to two guys for recovery and I got a serious backlog." he scoffed, "Plenty of these low lives think they can stick me with the bill."

"Great," I said, trying not to sound too eager, "When can I start?"

Jose reached behind the counter and pulled out a file, slapping it on the desk in front of me.

"How about now? Zacharia Stonewall. Bailed him out a month ago for $50,000 and he never showed up for court. Bring him in, and you get ten percent, as agreed."

I looked at the file in front of me. Five thousand would go a long way to setting me straight with Jack. The problem was, it was risky, stupid even. Every ounce of training I had told me you don't pursue a felon on your own. You had no backup, you were almost always outgunned and outnumbered, and the bad guys always had the home-field advantage. It was a dumb idea. A promising, lucrative dumb Idea. I picked up the file.

"I'll get to work on it," I said. 

Jose looked relieved. "Everything I've been able to find on this guy is in there," he said as he held out his hand again. "Good luck, and happy hunting." We shook and I made to leave. 

"See ya, John, be careful!" Penny called, waving after me enthusiastically. I gave her a small smile and walked out the door. 

As I walked down the sidewalk towards my car, I started thumbing through the pages of Jose's file, and my stomach dropped a little. Zacharia was a biker... Damn it. He was the sergeant-at-arms for a local crew called the Acolytes. I knew the name but hadn't had cause to deal with them myself. This complicated things. 

(Music Recommendation: "red cold river" by Breaking Benjamin)

I continued looking through the file when the uneasiness in my stomach intensified. I slowed my walk trying to trace the sudden sensation, but in seconds queasiness turned into sharp pain. The nausea was followed by inexplicable fear and I started to panic. The file dangled from my hands as the sensation in my stomach worsened until it made me double over. I stumbled into an alley off the sidewalk and fell to my knees as pain surged up into my chest and crept into my head. A Sudden flash of light blinded me and, in an instant, I was transported somewhere else.

I was sitting on a bed in a small, dirty room. Toys and clothes littered the floor and the paint on the walls was faded and chipped. I looked down at my feet, but they weren't mine anymore. They were so small... Like a child's. I was in my bedroom. No, that wasn't right...not my bedroom, his bedroom.

I heard yelling outside the door. A man shouting and a woman pleading. A smacking noise, then heavy footsteps. The door opened and a large man, intimidating, and furious, burst in. I tried to curl up small on my bed, hoping he would leave me alone this time. Then my eyes fell on the belt in his hands...

My small body shook with fear and my pants became wet. "You miserable brat!" the man shouted as he raised the belt.

"What did I do Daddy!" I shouted. He didn't explain, he just beat me. The leather whipped across my side over and over, the pain was intense. I cried, but it didn't help. Nothing ever did. "No Daddy! No Daddy!?" I shouted in vain.

I wretched, vomiting into the street. I was back in my own body in the alley, shaking uncontrollably. I felt for the welts on my side and legs where I had been struck, but there was nothing. 

"What did you see?" 

Leo appeared next to my side. I blanched at first, expecting the giant man again.

"I-He was being beaten." I tried to reason through the experience. "It was the boy... from the school. His dad beats him. A lot."

Leo nodded, "can you see where they are?"

The memories were strange, more a feeling than an actual recollection. I closed my eyes and focused again on the boy. I could see flashes of his life. His lonely walks to school, his fearful mother, his father... The man he hid from every day. I opened my eyes. 

"I see the streets he walks. I can see his house," I coughed and spat out more bile. "I can find him, yeah." I stood up, breathing deeply. "What was that?"

Leo watched me closely as though he were reading me. "The talisman has detected a prayer. The child's prayer. An innocent tormented by evil." 

The vision was old, I could feel that; A mere glimpse into the boy's daily life. I covered my face with my hands, my head aching.

"So, what, I'm supposed to save this kid now?" Leo said nothing. I sighed, "I can't call the cops with a freaking psychic vision." I ran my fingers through my hair. "I guess I could, I don't know... Stake out the house. Try to find something that could get a patrolman's foot in the door. Then I'll call it in."

Leo nodded, "It's a start."

I moved sluggishly out of the alley and back to my car. I climbed into the driver's seat and threw the file on the seat next to me. I looked over at Leo who was in the backseat as usual.

"Why did the vision hit me now?" I asked. Leo didn't answer. I looked down at the dashboard clock, It was nearly one o'clock. What time did kids get out of school? 

"... Because he's about to go back home." I reasoned out loud. A sense of urgency rolled over me as I started the car and pulled into the road.