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CALLISTER
I’m still contemplating the situation with Libra when I feel it: the sharp sting of terror coming from the only person I care about. A sliver of panic roils in my gut; Libra isn’t asleep, so this fear isn’t coming from a nightmare. I’d know if it were.
Something is wrong.
She may not be ready to see me, but she needs me. She’s afraid, and somehow, I’ve developed the ability toworry. I’m concerned for her safety. Who’d have thought that would ever be possible?
Without stopping to think, I manifest into her realm, right into the cabin by the lake.
I’m not certain what I expected to find, but it isn’t the scene before me. Evan Dempsey is brandishing a gun as Libra cowers behind the couch. That bastard just can’t seem to leave her alone, and I’ve had enough. If punishing him in his dreams didn’t do it, I’ll take care of it right here in the human world.
Moving on pure, angry instinct, I shift forms. Fortunately, I’ve spent enough time in his dreams to know his fears, so I adopt a new guise: Something that’s a cross between a scorpion and a shark, with bits of bear and other nasties thrown in. I’m covered in scales and a carapace and everywhere are pincers, stingers, and claws. Not to mention way too many eyes. Evan looks horrified and I smile a feral smile, showing off all those rows of vicious shark teeth.
“No one touches her but me!” I roar. The possessiveness in me is wild and true: The idea of him or anyone else laying a hand on Libra makes me furious. I stalk toward him, pointed scorpion tail aimed at his heart, and he lifts the gun and fires.
The bullet hits my shoulder, an irritating side effect of being in corporeal form. I snarl and he fires again, the second bullet embedding right next to the first.
“Stop shooting,” I thunder, but he ignores me and takes aim again.
I erupt into a massive growl, expanding so that I’m at least nine feet tall. Evan yelps in terror and backs away, but I leap at him, knocking the gun from his hands and pinning him to the floor.
“What the fuck are you?” he yells.
“Your worst nightmare!” I roar. “The thing that will haunt your nights and stalk your days. You will suffer at my hand!” I raise a claw, ready to rip him to shreds, but he punches me in my wound site. I grunt and shift, and it’s enough for the worm to wiggle free.
I bare my teeth and growl, low and deep, then transform my face into one of the hideous clowns from the carnival nightmare. “Get back here,” I command.
Evan pales, his eyes going huge. I can actually feel the terror burst through him. He glances at the couch where Libra is still hiding and shakes his head.
“Whatever. That bitch isn’t worth it!” He turns and runs out the door, disappearing from view. I want to follow him and finish what I started, but for the first time ever, something outweighs my need for fear. I’d rather check on Libra and make sure she’s okay.
Satisfied that he’s properly scared and unlikely to return at the moment, anyway, I shift back to my true form and help Libra out from behind the couch. Her eye is blackening, and I touch it tenderly. She winces and glances at the open door.
“Where did he go?” she asks, breathless.
“Toward the trees.” I point out the door and she takes off running, so I follow her.
There’s still enough dusky light that we can see Evan as he dashes into the woods that border the lake.
“Why did he run into the woods and not back to his car?” Libra asks.
I shrug. He was probably too scared to think straight. I tend to have that effect on humans, especially when I make an effort.
There’s rustling in the underbrush as Evan careens through the trees. Apparently he has a second gun, because he’s firing shots wildly over his shoulder. Evidently this is his attempt to keep us from following him.
“We need to call the cops,” Libra says, but at that moment, Evan veers into view. He’s about a hundred feet away, and near the edge of the water.
I start forward, prepared to stop him, but he must have misjudged his direction in the fading light. He runs straight into the lake, the water engulfing him almost immediately.
It’s chest-high where he entered, and he starts to paddle. There’s a floating dock in the middle of this part of the lake, presumably for diving and sunbathing, and I think he must be heading for it, though who knows what he’ll do when he gets there.
“Listen,” Libra says.
Along with the sound of Evan’s splashing, there had been various evening noises: frogs croaking, crickets chirping, critters scratching along the forest floor, digging through fallen leaves.
But now everything is silent, except for Evan in the water.
He stops swimming and looks around, then stares downward, at something submerged that we can’t see. Out of nowhere, he lets out a bloodcurdling yell before his head vanishes below the water. It is not the motion of someone sinking. It’s the motion of someone being pulled.
