Hatch
The statement of Charlie Fisher about the preternatural incident that occurred on August 11, 1999.
[CWs: body horror, eating things one shouldn’t]
[Recording Begins]
<Tape recorder clicks on. A metal fan whirs in the background. Cloth rubs against wood. Someone clears their throat.>
Charlie: So <pause> do I just tell you what happened or <pause> I don’t even know what to say or if it was real or —
Bertie: Just a moment. <clears throat> For the record, my name is Bertie <sigh> Bertha Batson. Today is September 2, 1999, and I am here with Charlotte —
Charlie: Charlie is fine. I’ve never much liked Charlotte. Always thought it was too much for me.
Bertie: Hm. Yes. Charlie suits you better. Where were we — ah, yes. I am here with Charlie Fisher to record her version of the events that happened on August 11, 1999. Note: a formal statement was given by Ms. Fisher to the Darkwood Sheriff’s Office, but they are unlikely to follow up any further. A copy of the report will be included with this statement file. <paper shuffling> You may begin.
Charlie: Oh, right now? I <nervous laugh> I don’t know where to start. Honestly, I don’t even know why I’m here. Wyatt told me I might want to make another statement and I didn’t really want to but I just…I don’t know, I was walking down the street after getting a coffee from Diane’s — a hot coffee with caramel and whipped cream, I don’t know how Evelyn always manages to know what I want without me saying it but —
Bertie: <clears throat>
Charlie: Sorry. I just didn’t expect to come here but I…did.
Bertie: Perhaps you’d like to get this off your chest. Knowledge can be a hefty burden.
Charlie: Do you always take weird statements then? Like I know Darkwood has some messed up stories but I didn’t think things like this actually happen. Definitely not to me.
Bertie: I take statements from anyone who wishes.
Charlie: <deep breath> Okay. I guess I should get on with mine then. I, um, suppose I should start with the end of the school year. It was the last week. I’m going to be a Senior next year. Pop’s been harping on me to take things serious. To think about what I’m going to put on my college apps. Tells me if I don’t, I’ll be stuck here like them and there ‘ain’t much for a girl my age but waitressin’ and fishin’ if I had the stomach for it.’ He’s not wrong, I guess, so I wanted to have a little fun. Party a little on the weekends. Sneak out and go to the gas station, smoke a little behind the dumpsters. I mean, teenage stuff, really. I’m sure my dad got up to some things too.
Bertie: As all teenagers do.
Charlie: Right! Unfortunately, I, um, got involved in a…situation. I’m sure everyone knows about it by now. Small town and all. Someone got hurt. None of us meant for it to happen but for Pop, it was a last straw. He decided I should spend my summer giving back to the community. He signed me up to volunteer at the turtle hospital. You know that place?
Bertie: The Darkwood Sea Turtle Hospital and Rescue, run by Caretta Chelonde and established in February of 1970.
Charlie: Yeah. He signed me up to volunteer there. We’ve done the turtle walks before when I was a kid…when Ma was still alive. I used to love searching for nests. Marking them off so folks wouldn’t hurt them, and putting up barriers to protect them from predators. Always felt like I was doing something important. And every year, when it was time for them to hatch, we’d go in the middle of the night and wait. Even if it took multiple nights, we’d go and just wait for them to hatch. Somehow, I think it always happened during a full moon. The whole beach would light up and you could see the tiny shapes moving through the sand down to the water. <sighs> Sorry, I got off track again.
Bertie: It’s fine, Charlie. This is your story. Tell it.
Charlie: Right. <pause> Ms. Caretta was happy to have me even though I wasn’t happy to be there. I thought losing my entire summer was unfair, but I thought at the time ‘at least he wasn’t taking me out on the boat.’ I might have preferred fishing in the end. Anyway, I met Edwin during orientation. He is…was…a student at UNCW. Marine Biology. Said he originally moved from Asheville to be here, to be close to the sea. I remember when I asked him why the sea over the mountains, he told me they scared the hell out of him. <snorts> Maybe if he had lived in Darkwood, he would’ve run for the safety of the mountains.
<The sound of a paper cup being moved across the table. A pause. Someone sips their drink. Places the cup back down on the table.>
Charlie: We had from Diane’s down to pier three. About a two mile walk every morning, looking for nests. Edwin also brought equipment to clean up trash and we reported any beach equipment left behind. He always complained out loud about tourists not following rules and ruining the beaches. I rolled my eyes as if his ranting annoyed me, but I agreed with him. I’ve always hated how folks come and do whatever they like, not caring about the mess they leave behind. About the damage they can cause. But Darkwood isn’t very kind to tourists anyway. Did you know we have a high disappearance rate? Like, higher than most places especially since we’re small in terms of tourist spots.
Bertie: Doesn’t matter how little town is, not enough people respect the Sea, least of all, tourists.
Charlie: <snorts> You sound like dad.
Bertie: It’s the truth. The sea is not kind and will take as it sees fit, but that’s neither here nor there. You were doing the turtle walks.
Charlie: Right. Um, things were fine. Normal. We’d meet up at six in the morning every day, which I hated by the way, and we’d go for breakfast at Diane’s when we were done. He’d demolish a loaded omelette and french toast and talk my ear off about endangered turtle populations. I didn’t mind though. I kind of liked talking to him. Even told him about why I was volunteering. Thought that would change how he saw me, but he just shrugged and said, ‘everyone makes stupid mistakes, it’s about what you do after that matters.’ I laughed it off at the time, but I liked that he didn’t judge me harshly. Felt like he gave me more of a chance than my own Pop. I think I really started liking Edwin then. I thought maybe…well…you know…
Bertie: You had a crush on him.
<Shoes scuff against wood floor. Something thuds on the table.>
Charlie: Yeah, I did. Doubt anything would have come of it, but I liked to think it might. Maybe we’d keep in touch until I graduated and then I’d go to the same school, and we’d have an apartment together. All of that. Maybe it was stupid.
Bertie: Fairly normal for a girl your age.
Charlie: <blows out a breath> Yeah, maybe. Anyway, we finally found a nest and Edwin was so excited and though I didn’t say it out loud, I was too.
Bertie: Do you remember the date?
Charlie: Um… <fingers tapping against the table surface> early June, I think. The hospital should have the date logged because we called it in on the walkie talkie immediately.
Bertie: I see. <pen scratching against paper> Continue.
Charlie: We checked on that nest every day. Made sure no one messed with it or that no predators had managed to get to the eggs. Weirdly enough, no other nests showed up on our route. Usually there are a few, I mean sea turtles nest more than once a year, so I was surprised there were no other clutches close by when other volunteers reported having several. Edwin didn’t seem to mind. In fact, he seemed…I don’t know…strange once we found the nest.
Bertie: Strange, how?
Charlie: He just…sometimes he’d stop and stare at the nest and I’d have to do the rest of the walk alone, I’d come back and he was in the same place. As if he hadn’t moved that entire time. There were times he said how much he wished he could pull the eggs out of the sand, to hold them and study them. When I’d remind him that was illegal, he’d promise he was joking and smile at me but the smile…there was something wrong with it. With him. I didn’t look forward to meeting up with him anymore, everything about him just made me…uneasy.
Bertie: Did you tell anyone?
Charlie: I told Caretta, but she told me he was just excited. But I didn’t think so. Something felt off to me. I thought about going to Pop, but I knew he would just accuse me of trying to get out of it. When school started again, I thought I could stop. That Edwin could take over the walks since I had to be to class on time. There were no other nests and the season was almost over, you know? <sigh> But Pop had already told the school what I was doing and Caretta had sent over a letter, so they granted me late arrival privileges since my grades have never been a problem. I was stuck. Finishing what I started.
<Sound of someone drinking.>
Charlie: I couldn’t wait for these eggs to hatch. Then this would be over. Edwin would leave and that would be it. But he got weirder. He started sleeping on the beach weeks before the eggs would even hatch. We didn’t meet at Diane’s anymore. I’d find him at the nest, exactly where I left him the day before. I didn’t bother trying to talk to him anymore. He didn’t respond. Didn’t even look at me. I’d do the walks on my own and count down the days. Sometimes I’d walk by and I’d swear I heard him whispering to the nest, but he’d stop when I got too close. Then…um… <breathes shakily> that night happened.
Bertie: Do you need a moment?
Charlie: No, I’m fine, I think. I remember there was supposed to be an eclipse that day. Everyone was excited but, of course, it stormed all day so we couldn’t see it. I worried briefly about whether or not Edwin was okay, but I didn’t want to go there and find out either. I was feeling really tired so I went to bed early. The rain put me right to sleep but I woke in the middle of the night. Everything was dark. That really hazy kind of dark where you’re not sure if you’re completely awake. Edwin was there. Standing over me. I think I asked him what he was doing there, but when his mouth moved, I couldn’t hear him. I tried to move but I couldn’t. There was a pressure, it didn’t hurt, but it kept me pressed down into the bed. It didn’t go away until Edwin touched my cheek. Then I heard him loud and clear. “It’s time,” he said. I wanted to ask him ‘time for what’ but he was already walking out of my room. I thought it was all a dream really so I got out of bed and followed him down the hall to my front door. He opened it, gesturing for me to follow him. I did. I stepped out of my front door and right onto the damp sand of the beach, and when I turned to look behind me, my house wasn’t there.
Bertie: Refresh my memory, where do you live?
Charlie: Hill Road. Back towards Hafter’s Woods.
<Pen scratching against paper.>
Bertie: A few miles from the beach then.
Charlie: Yeah. I…somehow knew then that I wasn’t dreaming but I knew I possibly couldn’t have just…appeared there. But I felt the cold sand under my feet and the ocean smell…what is that called? Brine? Brine-y? It was stronger than normal. Like someone had dunked my head in a barrel of fish and shrimp and held it there. The night was clear but dark. I thought it was a new moon, but I looked up and saw the bright ring of light around the moon. There was no way the eclipse was happening in the middle of the night, but I was staring right at it. And I think it was staring back at me. There was…a sense of being watched. Not just watched but seen. The dark moon was like a giant eye, focused on me. Almost as if it was judging me. As if it knew everything about me there was to know. But it didn’t feel malicious. More…curious, I guess. Like it was wondering what I was going to do.
Charlie (cont’d): I heard the sand shifting and I finally broke eye contact, to see what Edwin was doing. He was digging into the sand to the nest. I think I was going to tell him to stop but I didn’t say anything at all. Like I knew whatever was going to happen was supposed to happen and I couldn’t do anything about it. So I just watched as he clawed through the sand to the clutch. The eggs looked like normal sea turtle eggs at first but as I looked closer I saw the black veins pulsating in the thin membrane under the shell. Something in my head screamed that I should destroy them. Stomp the shells until whatever was inside them was dead, but I couldn’t move at all. I could only watch as Edwin picked up the first one and <audibly swallows> popped it into his mouth.
<Charlie lets out a shaky breath.>
Charlie: I waited for him to chew it. To crunch the shell in his teeth and hatch whatever monster grew in that egg on his tongue, but he swallowed. Again and again. He tilted his head back as if he wanted me to watch the bulge in this throat move lower and lower. The sound of him swallowing and choking, I still hear it sometimes — if I let a room get silent enough. I even play music when I sleep now because I just…can’t <chokes back a sob> I can’t stand to hear it anymore.
<A chair scrapes. Light footsteps grow faint and then return. Something soft is placed on the table.>
Charlie: <sniffs> Thank you.
Bertie: We’re almost done, Charlie, keep going.
Charlie: One by one, he swallowed the eggs, and I watched every single one. I felt like I had to watch. I had to witness what was happening in front of me or I wasn’t…doing it right, I guess? His stomach started to bulge and expand with every egg until he looked like he was about to pop. Or hatch. There was one egg left. Edwin held it up to me. His eyes, they…they were black and his pupils were ringed with that orange light just like the moon. He smiled as he offered me the egg. I, um… <voice trembles> I almost took it. My hand started to reach for it before a voice in my head screamed at me to stop. I shook my head instead. He looked more disappointed than angry, and he just swallowed that egg too.
Charlie (cont’d): I watched as he took a step towards the water. The eggs rattled around in his stomach, sounding like that cage you use for bingo. Black veins spread from his protruding belly button, pulsing and spreading with each step he took. The ocean, I had just realized, was still. There were no waves, neither here nor far in the distance. The water didn’t move at all, not even when Edwin started to walk in. All I could do was watch as the water reached his knees then his hips then his chest. And then finally, it closed over his head and I just…collapsed, I think. I don’t really remember anything until I woke up on the beach on the next morning.
Bertie: It said in the report that you were found.
Charlie: Rosalyn found me. Shook me awake just before the tide reached me. Edwin and the nest were both gone. Of course they were. Rosalyn didn’t ask me what happened. She just helped me up and walked me to Diane’s before calling Wyatt. The diner wasn’t open, but Evelyn was already there with coffee as if she knew to expect me. Wyatt came and took my statement. Rosalyn drove me home. I started to get out of the car — all I wanted to do was shower and crash at that point — but she stopped me. “One day this will make sense,” she said, and patted me on the shoulder. <sharp laugh> I don’t know what part of this will ever fucking make sense — sorry. All I know is one messed up encounter is one too many and I can’t wait to get out of this place and never come back.
<Recorder clicks off>
<Recorder clicks on>
Bertie: A supplemental to the previous statement. Wyatt visited the rescue’s facility a few days after Ms. Fisher had given her original statement and found that Caretta Chelonde had left for vacation a few days before the incident, but the volunteers were excited for her return as she was said to be bringing her grandchildren to the island for the first time. None of the other volunteers knew of anyone named Edwin, but after a few calls to the university, found a few students by that name and one that had recently been reported as missing: an Edwin Essvel, twenty-one years old. No further action will be taken, but I am including this information in the report. Regardless, whoever this Edwin was, he will not be found again.
<Paper shuffling>
Bertie: Due to the nature of this incident, I will be bringing this to [static bursts making this section unintelligible] attention. There are a few details about this incident that concern me as I believe Ms. Fisher glimpsed a piece of [static bursts making this section unintelligible] and while she is understandably shaken, is otherwise unscathed by the encounter. I believe it is prudent to keep an eye on her <soft chuckle> and I am sure I’m not the only one doing so. End of report.
[Recording Ends]
Luna Fiore is a genderfluid speculative fiction author from Eastern North Carolina with a MFA in Creative Writing from SNHU. WHERE WILLOWS WEEP is his debut horror, but he is also the author of dark fantasy series, The Underhill Saga. She’s dreamed of other worlds since she was a child making potions out of mud, sticks, and roly-polys. When he isn’t writing he is playing in video game worlds and corralling his small zoo of three cats and two St. Bernards.
