Elian in the Dark
In a world where nightmares can come true, an unlikely duo attempt to take back the night
“Wait…so you’re a kid?”
The painfully obvious child, unimpressed with the adult’s assessment, smoothed his parted hair to the side.“I am 10, yes.”
“Oh, um. In the ad, they didn’t mention that.” said the man.
Elian retrieved his tablet, tired of the routine he must always endure with these idiotic parents. “Is this your monster?” he said, facing the screen toward the toddler clasped to the man’s leg. If her widening eyes weren’t enough to convince Elian, her vibrating head, no doubt holding in a scream, was.
“Let me see that.” the adult said, taking Elians property away. “I haven’t seen anything like that. You better not be scamming me, kid.”
“I think it’s cute.” said a tall, limp-shouldered woman walking into the frame. “Even if it is a scam it’ll be worth it for a little peace of mind”. The last part she said into the man’s ear as if Elian’s lack of height extended to his hearing as well. Then, hand on knees she leaned down and began what Elian was sure would be the most infuriating sequence of syllables he’d heard all night.
“You must be the little detective. What’s your name?” she said through her patronizing smile.
Nonetheless, the boy gave his well-practiced introduction “My name is Elian, spelled with an E but sounds like an I”.
“Nice to meet you EEEElian” the woman who clearly failed English class said. “Is there an adult we can talk to?”
Exasperated, Elian peered over his shoulder, waving a gesture to his partner. To the adults of the Ross family, the cloaked and tophated humanoid specter must have seemed to suddenly appear just feet away, walking toward them. To Elian and the toddler, the specter had been standing there the entire time, waiting for the precise moment to make an entrance.
The toddler’s father grimaced. “Who the hell are you?” he said, a tad more hostile than expected. That piqued Elians interest. A scorned lover perhaps?
“Ahh yes.” Elians partner said, arrogant as always. “I remember you, Mr. Ross. Wet the bed the first time you saw me. You begged your mother to sleep in your room for a month.”
Gideon Ross, now truly his daughter’s father, trembled in place. “Y-you’re t-t-the Boogey Man.” he stuttered out, stammering backward, knocking his family off balance.
The specter stood tall. “Arthur Humphries Fatisha Bügmen the thirrrrrd is my name. Please don’t insult me with such barbarity.”
“Oh,” Mr. Ross retorted, gathering himself. “I didn’t know you were reformed.”
“A testament to your own ignorance I’m sure.” Before the man could answer, Arthur continued. “As you know, only children like young Elian here can see us unless we want them to. That is why a child is leading this investigation.”
“O-oh, of course.” The obviously shaken man said.
“He’s quite capable.” Arthur boasted. “I hand-picked him myself.”
Bügmen turned to the girl. “Now, this rabble-rouser you’ve come into contact with young lady, his name is Wence.” The girl nodded her watery-eyed head. “We will find him and remove him from your home. If you ever see him again remember that as specters of fear, it is our nature to scare but never to harm. You see those pesky little emotions of yours are what we eat to survive. Once you stop being scared, we’ll lose interest and go away. In the meantime, you can give Elian and me a call and we will handle the issue once more.”
Arther then turned toward the adults and mouthed,” for a small fee.” Turning back around, Bügmen then took Elian’s shoulder and guided him off before snatching back the tablet, swift enough to make the girl’s father recoil
“Come young Elian, we’ve got family to see.”
…
“Step lively Elian,” said Bügmen, half skipping and half running through the hallway of the Ross’s apartment complex. “If we don’t find Wence soon he’ll be in the wind.”
Elian’s traitorously short legs struggled to keep up with that of the specter. Fortunately, in his haste, Bügmen overshot the family unit by several doors. When Elian slipped into the correct apartment, darkness engulfed his small frame. Something about the dark had always felt heavy to Elian. Not overbearingly so, more like a cozy and comically oversized blanket had been wrapped around him. Comforting and warm.
As Elian ventured around the little Ross girl’s room he knowingly clung to the wall, sliding along his back. If Wence were still in the place, he’d likely stay in Elian’s peripheral or just behind. Giving him that eerie feeling that something lurks just out of sight. He almost gave up on the pursuit when, there, there it was. A shadow off to his left. One that doesn’t quite match the swaying motion of the moonlit trees coming through the window. As if someone were overconfident in trying to mimic the tree’s pattern around an unsuspecting child.
Elian didn’t hesitate. Breaking into a mad dash he ran. Making sure to keep an eye trained on the spot, unblinking. The specter, no doubt stunned at the sight of a 10-year-old sprinting toward him, froze in place, further giving away his position. People get many things wrong about the so-named things that go bump in the night, but one thing that rings true is that the wimps can’t handle confrontation. Elian was in the midst of bringing back his miniature fist to land a sound blow to Wence’s face when Bügmen turned on the lights. Wence instantly disappeared, sending Elian tumbling off balance.
“Elian lad,” said the tophatted fool,” You’re doing it all wrong.” Bügmen gestured widely, walking to the middle of the room. “Issues like this can’t be quelled with violence,” he said, swiping a finger across the top of the girl’s dresser, face contorted in disgust. “Diplooomacy. That’s the answer. Oh Wence! Come out now, the jig is up my boy.”
“So it’s true,” said the shadowy figure sliding up from a dark corner of the closet. “The humans have turned you into their guard dog.”
Bügmen circled his subject. “I’ve seen the error of my ways, Wence.”
“Oh? Did you see it when they locked you in a brightly lit room for weeks? Or was it when they starved you?”
Bügmen ignored Wence’s attempt at goading him. “Why have there been so many specters in this area? This is the third sighting this week.”
Wence was relentless. “ You used to be a leader! The best of us! The Boogey Man! Look at you now, hunting down your own ki-”
The shadow creature’s verbal assault was cut short by being blasted. The wave of energy that Elian could only assume came from inside Arthur’s body sent Wence flailing on his back. “That’s Arthur Humphries Fatisha Bügmen the thirrrd to you.”, he said, standing over the beast. “Now tell me what you know.”
After a few more blasts to the face, Wence spilled the beans. During the conversation, he spoke little, yet he said much. He spoke of dangerous things. Talks of a new way to glean the fear from children. He used the word “harvest” like they were corn. Apparently, this new way would allow them to generate enough fear to last for months instead of the usual few days.
When Wence refused to say more, Bügmen pressed further. Lobbing off pieces of elbow and ear until the specter began to scream. In between the screams and yelps, the victim stood strong, stopping just short of direct names and locations. Elian knew it had to be done. Still, the sight made him sick. His friend’s dirty work. So, quietly Elian excused himself from the room.
…
In the hallway, Elian found a place that put enough drywall between him and the family’s apartment to drown out the noise. He stood with his back against the wall, eyes closed. It was a simple trick that put him back in that familiar and dark blanket of safety where no one could see him. He let his thoughts drift off into that place. The one where he lay half lifeless under a-
“Hey what’s all that noise out here?”
Elian opened one eye toward a middle-aged man peeking his messy head out of the apartment door across from him. “Just a routine specter removal sir. Nothing to worry about.”
“Specter removal?” the man said. Oh, the guys that claim to remove monsters from under the bed for children? You the kid?”
“I’m the Chief Inspector. My name is Elian, spelled with an E, sounds like an I.”
“…Riiiight.” the adult patronized. “Is there an adult I can talk to?”
Blood-curdling screams from down the hall quickly cut the conversation short. Louder this time and much closer. Also, these weren’t Wence’s, these were child screams, shrill, helpless, and far more intense than anything Elian had ever heard. He ran through the building, tracking the sound. The noises grew greater as he rounded a corner to see people gathering at an open door. The collective feeling of anxious panic oozing from the group gripped Elian as he pushed through the crowd to a bedroom door that adults were desperately beating against, clearly locked from the inside.
As Elian rounded another corner, Bügmen appeared at his shoulder, immediately grabbing him and ghosting both of them through the wall. When they entered the room there were no screams, no dueling fo’s, just the sound of people throwing themselves against the door of a darkened room.
After a sweep of the room, Elian’s gaze landed on the child sleeping, tucked neatly into her bed. Clearly in a deep slumber despite the commotion going on around her.
“False alarm.” his mouth said. An admission that his brain acknowledged but his body did not feel. The pit in his stomach told him that this night had room to become darker still.
After a long pause, Bügmen replied. “Afraid not lad. That child is dead.”
Elian peered up at Bügmen’s grimacing face. Anger and sadness stretched across the specter’s features. When he pulled back the sheets of the child’s bedding, it revealed an armless, legless husk wrapped in the thin layer of sheet that ran beneath. Then, the blood ran.
