The Unnamed

he Unnamed

  By Jeff McDargh

  Copyright 2014 Jeff McDargh

  For my girls

  My brother and I stood in the middle of the old trainmasters building facing the front door.

  I stood about two feet in front of my brother holding the gun out in front of me, my arms shaking from the weight and adrenaline.

  We could hear the beast on the porch, its claws clacking on the wood planks as it made its way closer to the door. The beast burst through the door, sending splinters of wood flying through the room.

  Scanning the room the creature locked instantly on the two of us and lunged itself through the air.

  The flash of the gun reflected in its dark eyes.

  I hit the ground hard; I’m not sure how long I had been lying on the floor when I realized my brother was pulling on the shoulder of my shirt trying to get me free. The beast’s massive head was pinning me to the floor.

  My legs and head hurt and my thumb had swollen to the point I couldn’t move it.

  It seemed to be keeping time with my heart.

  Sitting up I stared down at the beast and started to cry again, this time not out of fear but sorrow.

  The dead thing that still pinned me to the floor was once our father.

  My younger brother said “It’s not him, not anymore,” he always seems to know what I’m thinking.

  I'm not sure why I was crying, it’s not the first time he had tried to kill me tonight.

  I had heard my parents in the kitchen earlier in the evening arguing.

  When I walked in the room they stopped and my dad looked at my mom then back at me and then sat me down for a little “talk”.

  My little brother had been sick for a few weeks, and had been asleep for two days now.

  Dad said I was going to help him get better, I asked how but all he said, sometimes a family needs to make sacrifices and that we’d talk about it later.

  After our talk, if you can call it that, I still wasn't sure how I was supposed to help. I would find out a few hours later, some things are better left not knowing.

  My Dad came into my room while I was sleeping and picked me up and carried me out.

  “Dad?”

  “It’s ok honey.”

  “What's going on Daddy?” I don’t know why I called him daddy, at thirteen I felt like I was too big for him to be carrying me, but maybe that’s why, because he was carrying me.

  “It's time for you to help your brother now.”

  As we went down the hall I dropped my favorite rag doll, yes at thirteen, I still have a doll.

  Don’t judge.

  He laid me down on the floor of my brother's bedroom, it was lit with candles and strange symbols were scrawled on the walls and floor.

  As I started to get up, he started yelling at me to lie back down. Dad never yelled so I went from that feeling of safety, of being held in my Dad's arms to hurt and confusion.

  Now fully awake and scared I tried to scramble back away from him.

  “Grab her,” he yelled and my mom grabbed my arms, I hadn’t seen her when we came in, and my dad grabbed my legs pinning me to the floor.

  They started chanting, praying in a language I had never heard before, me screaming the entire time. Then the room started to shake, the candles started to flicker and the closet door slammed open.

  That’s when the dark started to seep out into the room like a black fog. It stopped when it touched the light and became more solid like you could touch it, feel it. My screams of fear had been cut off by absolute terror.

  I could see movement in the closet a dark mass rolling over and over upon itself until it poured out into the room as a million black spiders, all legs. No heads or bodies.

  Now it was my parents that were screaming.

  They scurried over me in a frenzy, over my parents up their bodies into their mouths and nose.

  They didn’t seem to have any interest in me, for now.

  One had pried its way into my mom's eye and a clear jelly like substance was rolling down the corner of her eye.

  Suddenly both of them arched back, writhing on the floor and for the first time I noticed my brother was sitting up in bed, our eyes locked for just a moment.

  I jumped up off the floor brushing at my legs, body and hair trying to rid myself of the little eight legged inhabitants of hell that had just poured out into our world.

  I grabbed my brother by the hand and pulled him from the room as our parents still writhing on the floor, they're growing nails digging into the floor.

  You could see the spiders continuing to move under their skin distorting their features and there was an odd gurgling sound, they were changing.

  We ran down the stairs, through the kitchen and out the house, the sliding glass door slamming so hard I'm surprised it didn’t break.

  With no idea where we were going we ran through the yard, down a small ravine and through the field behind our house,

  Late summer clouds had rolled in stealing bits of moonlight and obscuring the midnight landscape. We ran blindly through the field, sending small waves of cascading insects as we disturbed them from their nightly perches, not stopping until we reached the old train station.

  Crap! I screwed up; in the dark I had taken the path in the field that forked to the left, which took us further away from town. Now we stood at the edge of the old train yard.

  “Sister, what's going on?”

  “I don’t know, but it's going to be ok, it is.” I'm not sure if I was trying to convince him or myself.

  As we tried catching our breath an odd gurgling howl came from the field behind us and it was getting closer, fast.

  My brother started squeezing my hand in a pumping motion.

  “What do we do?” he whined.”

  “I don’t know. We need to hide.” As I scanned the area for someplace to hide I noticed the light in the trainmaster’s office.

  I pointed to the light “Do you see that?” I asked, but started pulling him across the tracks before he could answer.

  We crossed the tracks to the old brick trainmaster’s office and burst through the door, scaring the crap out of the round bellied man behind the desk.

  “Jesus Christ! What the hell….” The howling stopped him in mid-sentence.

  The big man rounded the desk quicker than I would have thought he could.

  “You kids stay put,” he said, pulling up his sagging pants that slipped right back down the moment he let go of them.

  As he rushed out the door I closed it behind him and took my brother and me around the other side of the desk so we could hide underneath it.

  Before I could get us hidden away the gurgling howl came again, this time accompanied by screaming. I stood listening to the man screaming and I think a little bit of shock was setting in.

  I could feel my brother tapping my leg, but I feel a little detached until “Ouch!”

  He had just smacked me on the toes with something, something hard.

  I looked down and in his hand was a gun, a revolver. I couldn’t believe it.

  “Where did you get that?” he just looked at me and shrugged, I hate when he does that, but tonight I think I’ll let it slide.

  Which brings us back to where we started, with me holding the gun, then a little nap that would probably come with a concussion?

  Then waking up with the creature that what was once my father, lying dead on top of me and then I have a nice cry like a wuss-puss.

  I finally pulled my self-free and rubbed my legs to get some feeling back and then got to my feet.

  I looked down at my brother.

  “We need to go.”

  “Go where?” fear evident in his big dark eyes.

  “Town, we need to get help.”


  “But Mom is… the other one is still out there we just need to hide better this time.”

  “No, we need to find someone, anyone who can help us.” my voice cracking a bit “besides we tried that and he still found us. “

  I grabbed his hand. ”We need to go ok…. OK?”

  “Ok.” he finally responded and squeezed my hand a bit tighter.

  With his hand in mine, we left through the shattered door into the night.

  Out on the porch the wind seemed cry softly through the broken doorway.

  We walked slowly, warily until we reached the corner of the building and then ran. Still hand in hand, we ran across the train yard, through the field that separated us from town.

  We never did come across the body of our would-be Good Samaritan, thank God.

  The windows all up the street were dark but not just dark, empty the kind of abandon loneliness you can feel when you know you’re alone.

  A howl echoed from the forest behind us” let’s go, there's a light on at the church at the other end of the block” I said dragging him behind me, once again, up the street.

  The howl came again, but closer this time.

  My fear growing the closer we got to the church. Fear that the doors would be locked and we would meet our demise one step away from safety, blocked by the same door we hoped and prayed would save us.

  Reaching the front steps we pushed on the big wooden door of the church and it swung inward, surprisingly. Rushing in, we locked the deadbolt behind us and moved away from the door and into the middle of the church.

  Moonlight streamed in through big stain glass windows set high in the walls.

  All though the glass was multi colored it seemed to bathe us in only red.

  We stood holding each other, feeling a little safer in the old church, knowing it wouldn’t last but needing, even those few seconds to gather strength from each other.

  I stiffened and a chill went up my spine as I pointed up at one of the windows.

  “What?”

  “Something passed by the window.”

  My brother started looking under and around the pews.

  “What are you doing?”

  “We need something.”

  “Like what?”

  “I don’t know something to protect ourselves.”

  The stained glass shattered with a kaleidoscope of raining glass a fraction of a second before the light was blocked out and then returned. The sound of raining glass and smashing pews filled the room. One of the pews flipped across the room and slamming against the doors.

  I instinctively covered my face. I started to lower my arms, but I could see that the beast had already risen up on its back legs. As it came down with its huge front paws, I raised my arm back up and waited.

  Arms over my head I heard and felt the crash, but she wasn’t under it.

  Opening my eyes, I saw why, the beast laid on the floor dead a large piece of wood skewering it through the chest a small tip of it protruding from its back.

  My brother had scrambled out from under a pew grabbing a piece of splinter pew and ran forward passed me as the beast started to come down using the wood as a spear and rammed it deep into the beast's chest.

  The only problem was that on the other end of the makeshift weapon was him, stabbed through his right shoulder, pinning him to the creature and the floor.

  A small line of blood seeped out from around his head and inched its way towards me.

  I took a step back unable to take any more, tears flooding my face.

  I watched as the man stepped out of the shadows, more shadow than man. He walked passed and behind me, wrapping his arms around me and caressing my face.

  The last thing I heard was a cracking sound.

  The boy woke up back in his bed; a girl lay on the floor battered, torn and bloody.

  He crawled out of bed and made his way downstairs.

  An old doll tumbled down the stairs and the image of a girl drifted through his mind but quickly faded, forgotten.

  Forgotten as another ghost of memory floated through his mind of, the man picking him up off the floor of the church, cradling him in his arms.

  As he stood on the front lawn with the neighbors of maple drive starting to gather he realized that he wasn’t alone.

  Something of that dark place he had spent the last three days in, had come back with him.