Life Update and "Ticking Time"

Before I dive into this post, I should let everyone know that I am staying at Northwestern for fall break. It was a really hard decision, but I am realizing today that God is keeping me here for a good reason. I'm missing my family already--break hasn't even started--yet I am beginning to see ways that this will strengthen my walk with Jesus as well as help me focus on giving midterm final projects a whole lot more effort.
As of last night, both my folktale and my short story final drafts have been submitted. Am I nervous about what grade I will receive? Well, yes. I am. But that's beside the point.
A couple nights ago, I got into a pretty depressed state of mind while I was trying to work on my folktale. I ended up writing an alternate ending to my short story (which originally has a happy ending), and this ending was pretty unhappy. Both versions carry a very heavy allegorical meaning for me personally; one which you might never truly understand if you didn't know my own story.
There are so many things that I could talk about besides this short story, but I really feel like I need to share both versions with whoever actually reads my blog. It's been an insane couple of weeks--Brianne and I are continuing to reach new depths in conversation, wingmates never fail to feel welcome in our room (praise Jesus for that!), and I am learning so much about myself through being Cardboard editor as well as a student activities council member, a fantasy writer, a novelist, and a roommate to a girl who strives to show the joy of Christ no matter what her day looks like.
That was a super long sentence up there. My bad. Anyway, I am going to insert Ticking Time into this post. Tomorrow I will hopefully have time to put up the alternate ending. If anyone reads them and wants to talk with me about the deeper meaning, awesome. God willing, I will eventually dedicate a post to that very topic. But not now. Not until after midterm.

                                                   Ticking Time                                         By Justine Johnson

“Jason. Jason, wake up!”

A brown, curly-haired head rolled to the side of a plush white pillow, emitting a moan of frustration while two green eyes squinted in confusion.

“Wha—what time is it?”

“Almost three. We have to go.”

The sleepy eyes drooped shut once more. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

Jason’s messenger sighed sharply. “Nope, I am definitely not kidding. Although I would rather sleep than go save someone’s skin at such an ungodly hour. Mercury says the monster is watching him through the window.”

This time, the eyes stayed open. Their owner sat up quickly, all sleep forgotten. “You mean…?”

A nod, followed by another sigh. “Yep. It’s back.”

Jason groaned loudly. “Dangit, Michaela. Just when I had a good night’s sleep going for me. How about this—you tell Mercury to start singing, and maybe it’ll go away.”

“Jason, really? You’re killing me here.”

***

2 weeks earlier…

Thud.

An arrow slammed into the dead center of a hand-painted target, knocking the stuffed dummy to the ground. No sounds followed the landing save for a single set of footsteps whispering over the grass. Two bare feet approached the burlap figure, halting mere inches away. An exposed ankle twitched wildly as its owner stood next to the target.

Jason plucked the arrow out of the cloth. Examining it, he placed it back in the quiver hanging from his back. Before he could step away from the dummy, a voice sliced the calm in half.

"Jase, time to eat." His younger sister Michaela entered the field with a small blue cooler in one hand and a large jug of ice water in the other.

"I'm slacking--it took me two tries to hit the center this time." Jason placed the quiver on the ground gently, careful not to step on the fletchings. His eyes batted rapidly for a few seconds, then returned to their normal pattern.

Michaela rolled her hazel eyes. "Oh, and that makes you a slacker. In case you've forgotten so quickly, I have yet to hit that new target at all, unless you're counting the time I accidentally whacked it with my golf club."

"Right. That was only because you can't tell one end from the other," Jason replied with a muffled snort. "And anyway, you were too focused on trying to impress that rich guy."

Michaela's eyebrows shot up in protest. "Excuse me? He was definitely not my type. Besides, a few practice swings never hurt anyone."

Jason glanced around the wide-open field. "If this were a golf course--which it is not--I would buy that excuse. I still don't know why you two were even out here."

"We were on our way to the course," Michaela retorted. "If you were a golfer--which you are not--you would understand that."

"Whatever, sis. Let's just forget about it and eat, m'kay?"

Michaela nodded, a knowing smile stretching over her face. "Sure, Jase. Works for me." She handed him the cooler and sat down on the grass. He removed the lid, picked up a sandwich, and practically inhaled it.

"So guess what? We've got an assignment," Michaela said. "I'm pretty sure you're going to like this one."

"Oh really? What makes you say that?"

"Protection for a writer--he wants to stay with us while he finishes his horror story."

Jason jerked his head to the right. "Yeah, I like it. Horror story, huh? What, is he afraid of the boogie man or something?"

Michaela punched him playfully. "Always full of worthwhile commentary, aren't you? Anyway, I've got the email if you want to read it."

 “Give it here,” Jason reached for the single piece of paper, eyes batting furiously. Michaela relinquished her grip on the white sheet and watched her brother scan the message. Typically, his ever-wandering mind struggled to focus on reading anything longer than a few lines. But the wording of the message snagged Jason’s attention like a loose strand of yarn on an ugly Christmas sweater.

My name is Mercury. I am a novelist and a writer of horror fiction.  I am sure you are wondering why I am asking for your protection at this time. The explanation is a bit too complicated for me to give in this email, so I would like to suggest that we meet within the next week to discuss my predicament. I have a few possible locations in mind. I look forward to hearing from you soon.

Mercury

***

The meeting took place on a Friday afternoon when the sun was shining and the birds were singing merrily. Somewhere in the distance, squeals from delighted children pierced through the melodious chirping. Off to the right, two police officers were breaking up a dance party but had yet to shut down the ground-vibrating music. Cigarette smoke hung in the Midwestern humidity, threatening to ruin the sunlight’s golden reflection off of the sidewalk. Un-scooped dog poop littered the grass around the “No Pets Allowed” sign next to the picnic shelter. Sulfur-scented water spurted sporadically across patches of dirt, encouraging tiny green sprouts to hide under the earth for a while longer.

Two parties became one at the intersection of three sidewalks in the dead center of this supposedly green, peaceful park. A bench sat next to the cement paths and a man perched on the edge of it. The irony of the location might have been far clearer, but maybe on this particular day when the state of the park left the eyes voting for secession.

Jason and Michaela approached the bench at a steady pace. Jason’s brain was screaming for permission to dart all about and proceeded to ignore his denials. The man looked up at them and then glanced down quickly as if he had seen something terrifying. Jason rolled his shoulders back and decided that the poor man had indeed glimpsed a freak of nature. But he said nothing of the sort.

Instead, he sucked in a breath and muttered, “At least he isn’t wearing a sign that says, “I am sitting here waiting for two mysterious strangers to show up.”

Michaela gently slapped his arm and tried not to chuckle. “Come on, bro. He’s a writer, what do you expect? The drama probably pulls him right in; more than likely it just wouldn’t ever occur to him that he’s acting out a chapter of a mystery novel.”

“Whatever,” Jason replied with a deep sigh as he pulled out a piece of paper and began tearing it into little bits. Used to his strange habits, his sister stepped ahead of him towards the man before them.

Mercury popped up off the bench as if his rear was spring-loaded. Michaela stifled a snicker, but Jason had left his amusement in bed that morning. “Afternoon. Thanks for meeting me. I am going to assume that you are Jason, and you are Michaela,” he began. His voice, soft and slightly timid, merely strengthened Jason’s feelings about a weak personality. “I am, of course, Mercury.”

Michaela grasped Mercury’s hand firmly, receiving a limp, un-calloused hand and a wince in response. “That’s a good assumption. My brother and I are pleased to meet you—aren’t we, Jason?”

Jason’s head lifted reluctantly. He extended his own hand, allowing the remaining scraps of paper to drop, and squeezed the pasty flesh that clearly rested on computer keys more often than a longbow. Jason struggled not to laugh at the repeated grimace, this time directed in his own direction. “Yeah. Good to meet you. Let’s talk about this whole protecting-you-from-evil thing, okay?”

Mercury’s eyes darted around, checking to be sure that no one had heard Jason. “Er, yes. Must we really speak so openly about the situation?”

“Yes,” Jason replied flatly, neck muscles twitching. “That’s kind of how we work. Open honesty has always gotten people much farther in life. Let’s hear it.”

Mercury deflated and gulped nervously. “Alright, then. Well you see, I write horror fiction for a living. I never had any trouble with him until about two weeks ago. He’s been stalking me, you see.”

“Hold up,” Michaela interrupted. “Who is ‘he’?”

Mercury swallowed hard once again. “That’s the problem—I don’t know. All I can figure is that a creature from my story is lurking in the shadows wherever I go. He never attacks me, but I’m frightened.”

Jason sat down on the bench, hard. This guy really was afraid of his own shadow. “Okay, that’s kinda not so normal. It’s also crazy. How do we know you’re not insane or something?”

Mercury shrugged. “I understand how you might think that. That’s why I took pictures of it.” Pulling out his cell phone, the timid man showed the siblings a rather blurry image of a dark form. It was shaped like a human, only larger. Jason stopped just short of laughing out loud.

He was just opening his mouth to make a snarky remark when the group heard a loud, snotty snort. Michaela’s fighting instincts kicked in and she spun around. The owner of the rude sound certainly fit the description of the stalker. With a second juicy splutter, the massive monster lunged forward, large droplets of green saliva flying off its chin.

Jason and Michaela each grabbed one of Mercury’s arms and the three of them took off down the sidewalk. “That’s the thing!” the feeble man cried out unnecessarily. The siblings ignored him as they practically dragged him along the path towards their car. As his feet continued to miss the pavement and flail in the air below him, Mercury glanced back just in time to see the slobbering terror trip over a large shrub. With a gurgling screech, it grasped at emptiness and pounded the ground in outrage.

“You’re coming home with us now,” Michaela announced above the grunts of exertion. When they reached the car, she flung open the back door and shoved Mercury inside. Courtesy didn’t seem necessary at the moment. She and Jason slid into the front hastily and slammed the doors shut.

Jason shifted into gear and sped forward before the passenger door even closed. At some point, Michaela realized that no one else in the park had reacted to the catastrophe, but she decided that observation could wait. Consequently, no one spoke the entire ride home. The only sound came from Jason’s clicking teeth.

***

To the uneducated eye, Haven Grove carried no special significance. Uneducated in the sense that an unknowing passerby would never pick out the unique purpose of the property. Surrounded by a border of thriving oak trees, the sprawling field stretched for twenty acres. Rolling green hills carried a therapeutic atmosphere and vibrant sunsets of red, yellow, orange, pink, and purple promised that tomorrow would hold more success. It was indeed a haven for the broken.

Unfortunately, its days of comfort had run their course with the arrival of a foreclosure sign as it was staked in the lawn near the dirt road. When the crunch of fallen orange leaves filled the air of the apple orchard, Haven Grove’s owners were walking down the driveway towards the mailbox for the final time.

Jason and Michaela's father hadn't bought the estate for retirement; his original intent had been to create a place for road-weary travelers. The bed and breakfast drew people from all over the region and beyond. Their father and mother built a "rest empire" on a foundation of refurbished dreams and constructed walls of new hope, adding a roof of established trust to perfect a safe haven. The siblings grew up watching their parents provide emotional healing for hundreds of visitors. Haven Grove rose from the ashes of not-so-long-forgotten dreams and once again served as a place for healing.

Despite the peaceful atmosphere at home, the father’s world failed to follow the same path that he had blazed for others. Certainly not a man who could be satisfied by a Midwestern corporate nine-to-five desk job, he kept a great number of secrets from his family. He instructed his children in self-defense but refused to teach them about guns. Jason and Michaela learned swordplay through fencing but were never allowed to use real swords. Their father encouraged them to practice when he was gone, which became more and more often as the two of them got older.

When Jason developed Tourette’s syndrome at age eight, the time that he spent practicing these skills became an outlet for him to release the stress and the hurt that came with being “different” in the eyes of the world. Michaela looked out for her big brother when they were in school, but she couldn’t always protect him from the cruel words and strange looks that his tics drew.

Jason became skilled with the longbow and he spent many an hour with his father practicing in the field. Michaela learned to observe her surroundings by taking long hikes with her mother in the woods out by the edge of the estate. The entire family became closer as Jason and Michaela entered their teen years.

Then came the double homicide.

Their bachelor salesman uncle moved onto the estate and closed down the bed and breakfast portion of Haven Grove, then left his niece and nephew on their own for months at a time. Pushing grief and feelings of abandonment aside, the two teens enrolled in more self-defense courses to honor their father’s memory. When their uncle was there, they avoided him as much as possible. Though she couldn’t put her finger on it, Michaela had a strange feeling about their typically-absent relative.

High school graduation came. Jason left for college and Michaela began her junior year. No longer able to fall back on his sister’s support, the new college student struggled to fit into a dorm atmosphere where he felt judged with every grimace and twitch. After a single semester, he dropped out and came back to Haven. The archery range became his hiding place—especially after his uncle began to appear more often.

At first, the motivation for their uncle’s more frequent visits confused Jason and Michaela. It didn’t take long for it to become clear, however. Michaela dodged encounters with the middle-aged man by following Jason out to the range. The conversations stayed shorter; she felt safer with her brother nearby.

A couple of years passed without major incident. Michaela graduated and remained at Haven Grove with her brother. Somehow, college in a town only an hour away seemed like a bad idea while she still had an uncle who had increased his visits to at least three times a week. His sudden death—which everyone else called a “car accident”—led the siblings to their decision to become protection-for-hire. Neither of them could shake the feeling that their father and his brother had left behind more intentional followers than those found on their Twitter accounts. With all family members dead from questionable causes, they couldn’t afford to take any chances.

A profession more dangerous than bodyguard and less questionable than gun-for-hire, protection supported Jason and Michaela as well as providing them with opportunities to carry on their parents’ legacy as keepers of peace. With the shadow of their father and the memory of their uncle resting on their shoulders, the siblings placed an ad in the darker sections of the yellow pages. Alleyways and lamp-lit street corners became their meeting places. They never questioned the source of their payments. It was safer that way.

What made Jason and Michaela unique was their refusal to use guns. Their father had always insisted that stealth and negotiation held far more valuable than firepower. Knives were allowed but not recommended. For the majority of situations, the two protectors depended on martial arts and Michaela’s skill with strategy. Jason failed to gain proper conversation etiquette in college, so Michaela also did most of the negotiating with potential patrons.

The trickle of clients gradually became a steady stream. So did the money. Mercury’s email was one of hundreds, but it would carry ten times the significance of any other correspondence.

***

Click. Clench. Click. Clench.

Mercury glanced up at the rearview mirror. His eyes met Jason’s. “Thanks.”

Click. Clench. Click. Clench. “It’s our job. As long as you pay up, we protect you.”

Michaela sighed. “Sorry, Mercury. My brother sometimes forgets what manners are. Do you know what this freaky thing even is?”

Mercury kept his eyes on the mirror, a quizzical look on his face, and replied, “I wrote a novel a couple of years ago about a giant who attacks whenever he comes near people with special…characteristics. You know, like ADHD or schizophrenia.” Jason’s eyes shot back up to the mirror. Mercury was still watching him. “About a week ago, I ordered takeout and my fortune cookie said that “my dreams would become reality.” I just laughed. Well, I laughed until that night when I saw a shadow in my backyard. Funny how those fortunes never come true until you don’t like what they say.”

“In the form of a monster? Some dreams you’ve been having,” Michaela quipped. Jason remained silent. He turned to his sister for just a moment. She barely nodded and he sighed.

Seeing his protectors’ reactions, Mercury coughed uncomfortably. “At the risk of sounding quite forward, I am going to guess that I have put one of you in considerable danger by hiring you to protect me from such a creature.”

Click. Clench. “You could say that.”

Michaela opened the car door and stepped out. “Let’s go inside and talk. It’s a bit warm in here.”

It wasn’t, but the tension was suffocating.

When they had reached the spacious entryway, Jason turned reluctantly. His head jerked to the right. “Yeah, we might be in more danger. I have Tourette’s. No matter. It’ll draw him out and we can kill him sooner.”

“I didn’t want to pry…but I figured that if I didn’t say anything, you would have no idea how to defeat my monster,” Mercury said quietly. He twisted his pale, wiry fingers nervously. “I wasn’t quite honest with the two of you. I never intended to write while at your estate. All I want is protection from my own creation.”

Jason forced his eyes to blink normally. “Really? I never would have guessed.” He turned abruptly and walked out of the room. Mercury started to follow, but Michaela touched his shoulder gently.

“Don’t.”

“I offended him. I’m sorry.”

“You’re fine. Jase has always been looked on as different because of his tics. This protection job has given him a chance to be himself. He hasn’t had to deal with quite as much prejudice since he’s mainly working with me or by himself. He just needs a few minutes to think.”

Mercury groaned. “And here I thought that I had a great thing going on—what, with the originality of my plotline. Turns out, it just gave me way more trouble than I needed.”

Michaela clapped her hand on his thin shoulder, hiding her smile as he grunted. “We’ve dealt with enough monsters of men in this job. I don’t see how a monster of fiction will be that much different.”

***

“Jase, we need to talk.”

Jason relaxed his hold on Michaela’s wrist and stepped off the mat. “About what?”

Michaela sighed. “Well for one thing, you really need to work on your social skills. Seriously, you can’t just snap at a guy and walk away without apologizing. Besides, Mercury meant well. He never said anything unkind about your tics. He just asked you an important question that I think you could have handled better.”

Jason leaned up against the wall and groaned. “Sorry, sis. I didn’t mean to come across that way. But you saw me—the tics were worse. How else do I ever react when someone pries?” As if to prove his point, Jason’s jaw jutted out sharply. He forced himself not to grunt in pain.

Michaela shook her head. “Makes sense, but it isn’t a good excuse.”

A shrug. “Whatever. You made it sound like there was something else. What is it?”

Michaela hesitated for a moment before replying, “When we were at the park…nobody was scared of the monster. They didn’t even look at us. I don’t get it.”

“Huh. Weird. You think there’s something else going on with this creep that Mercury isn’t telling us about?”

“Maybe so. I’d rather not think about it, but we kinda gave our word that we’d take care of him.”

Jason strolled back to the mat and readied himself for another round of practice. “Hm. Wonder who agreed to that?”

“Your sarcasm always warms my heart, Jase.”

***

Gurgle.

Jason froze with his longbow half-drawn. That sound again. “Crap.”

Slowly turning, Jason faced the creature fully. Each studied the other intently, one with intelligent eyes and the other with glazed-over pupils. Now that he wasn’t trying to save a client’s life, Jason felt no true alarm.

He had an enormous beard—scruff, really—with quivering jowls and avocado-colored spittle soaking his bristly neck. His black hair, dripping with sweat and grease, cascaded over his burly shoulders in matted waves. Acne infested his face horribly, although it was difficult to tell since his skin tone differed only slightly from his hair color. Clumps of hair were smattered unevenly across his thick, heaving chest. Mud and pieces of the offending shrubbery from days before were tangled into the chest hair. Blood spattered his bulky arms and meaty hands. His arm span matched the length of a side of beef. His legs formed an upside-down V and stretched tautly to connect with firmly-planted feet the size of apple crates.

All of this observation took mere seconds, but enough time for Jason to fully draw his bow. The giant’s dull eyes slowly gained a slight glimmer of realization. At the moment that Jason’s fingers released the string, he felt the ever-familiar itch inside. The shot went wide as Jason’s head jolted to the right.

Gurgle. The giant snapped into full awareness, lurched forward, and swiped for Jason’s head. Ducking, Jason whirled around and dashed towards the line of trees that separated the shooting range from the rest of the field. He passed through the trees, vaulting over a stone wall shouting, “Michaela!”

The creature lumbered up the hill behind him, but he was much too heavy to leap over the wall. This didn’t stop him, however; the monster simply kicked down a section of stone and staggered on. Michaela burst out of the house with a hand gun raised and ready. She fired a single shot which slammed into the monster’s left shoulder, driving him backwards.

“Get in the house!” Michaela screamed. She and Jason pushed past a stunned Mercury, who stood stunned in the doorway. Jason slammed the door, locked it, and slid the deadbolt into place. He dropped to the floor and slapped the tile surface, crying out in frustration.

“Dangit! I had him, sis! I aimed an arrow straight at his heart and then I…I lost control. Dangit, Michaela, I had him!”

Mercury tried to pretend that he wasn’t listening, but he couldn’t avoid hearing the sob of defeat that escaped from Jason’s mouth before the poor man could restrain it. Michaela knelt next to her brother to console him, and Mercury turned to the window to give them privacy. He watched the giant stumble back down the hill, still releasing an occasional gurgling shriek.

Jason forced himself to calm down. He looked over at the gun next to Michaela. “You used a gun.” His voice wobbled a bit. “Dad would be disappointed,” he whispered.

Michaela placed a hand over the weapon. “Not as disappointed as he would have been if I hadn’t saved your butt,” she retorted, reaching over to stroke his damp curls off his forehead.

“It won’t happen again,” Jason promised. “I can’t be letting my baby sister show me up.”

Mercury, who hoped he had been forgotten, exited the room as quietly as possible. It probably wasn’t a good time to mention the other form of the monster.

The group spent the rest of their day spread throughout the house. No one bothered to venture outdoors. No one wanted to.

***

Two weeks passed without much of an incident. Mercury avoided mentioning Jason’s blunder because he knew that it was partly his own fault for creating such a character. In fact, this burdened the writer far more than the terror of being stalked. If he hadn’t written this monster into existence, it never would have come to life. Knowing that this would not make matters any easier for him while he was living at Haven Grove, Mercury kept his mouth shut and stayed clear of Jason whenever possible.

Jason, on the other hand, moved on. He always did. Tics had dominated his life for most of his memory. No one was hurt or dead, so he let it go. He and Michaela began more intense training the day after the attack, and continued to practice martial arts for the majority of each day. Jason spent the remainder of his time at the archery range.

Late one night, Michaela awoke with a start when her cell phone rang. “Hello?” she whispered, mouth still cottony from slumber.

“It’s Mercury. I see it. Michaela, it’s looking in the window at me! You’ve got to help. Get Jason…please hurry!”

Michaela rolled out of bed. “I’m on my way. Hang in there.” Not bothering to change out of her athletic shorts and tank top, she pulled loose jeans and her leather jacket over her pajamas and slipped on her boots. Grabbing a flashlight, she walked down the hall to Jason’s room.

“Jason. Jason, wake up!”

Jason rolled his head to the side of his pillow, emitting a moan of frustration and squinting his green eyes in confusion.

“Wha—what time is it?”

“Almost three. We have to go.”

The sleepy eyes drooped shut once more. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

Jason’s messenger sighed sharply. “Nope, I am definitely not kidding. Although I would rather sleep than go save someone’s skin at such an ungodly hour. Mercury says the monster was watching him through the window.”

This time, the eyes stayed open. Their owner sat up quickly, all sleep forgotten. “You mean…?”

A nod, followed by another sigh. “Yep. It’s back.”

Jason groaned loudly. “Dangit, Michaela. Just when I had a good night’s sleep going for me. How about this—you tell Mercury to start singing, and maybe it’ll go away.”

“Jason, really? You’re killing me here.”

“I know, I know. But seriously, Michaela, we don’t get paid enough for this job. All we ever do anymore is protect a guy with the gumption of a mouse. Besides, the creep never attacks him…just me.”

Michaela brushed her tangled hair away from her round face. “You’re preaching to the choir, bro. But to be honest with you, this job is more exciting than most of the others that we’ve done lately. At least it’s somewhat creepy, right?”

“Ha! Oh, and that makes it better,” Jason pulled a black hooded sweatshirt over his curls and straightened the wrinkles out of his jeans. “So did he say ‘Hurry please’ this time?”

“Actually, he did.”

“Oh, how thoughtful of him. As if we really need to rush.”

Michaela slapped Jason’s leg with her hand playfully. “We’re burning daylight. Better go.”

Jason followed her to the door. “Oh, ‘We’re burning daylight,’ she says. It’s friggin’ 3 a.m. You’re hilarious, kid. I have no idea where you get your sense of humor. Thankfully, I inherited the attractive genes. Ouch!”

The two protectors strode down the hall. Mercury’s room was fairly small, and the shadows were far deeper in that corner of the building. Or at least that was what Jason had always thought.

Michaela burst into the room without knocking. Mercury sat in a chair against the back wall, staring at the window. His rescuers’ eyes followed his gaze to see the monstrosity gazing intently through the glass. His nostrils flicked in and out as he breathed short puffs of green, hot air onto the windowpane.

“Make it go away,” whispered Mercury. “Make it die…please.”

Jason’s ankle began twitching as it usually did. Stress tended to make it worse; now was no different. He wrestled to control it, but the ankle refused to cooperate. “I’ll do my best,” he muttered, grunting almost audibly from the mental strain. Michaela shot him a concerned look, but saw that he was refocusing. Jason walked slowly but steadily to the window and grasped the frame firmly between his fingers.

The monster stared at him. His form began to soften until all Jason could see was a smear of liquid against the window. Jason staggered back a step. “What the heck is this thing?”

Mercury gulped loudly. “Apologies, I should have mentioned this earlier. In my book, the monster is a shape shifter.”

“No, duh. Tell me something else that I already know,” Jason snapped back, his ankle beginning to twitch once more.

“Erm, he’s also only visible to those who have disorders…and those who are in close contact with such people.” Mercury shot a glance at Michaela as he spoke. Recognition flickered across her face.

Still in liquid form, the creature seeped through the cracked windowpane. As soon as he finished dripping on the carpeted floor, he morphed back to his original form.

Click. Clench. Click. Clench.

Gurgle.

And so began the battle between monster and man. Mercury and Michaela never quite figured out who moved first. Everything seemed to happen at once.

Jason’s fists pounded into the giant’s soft, meaty face. The giant screeched, green slobber flying, and latched onto Jason’s arm. With a scream of outrage, Jason wrenched himself free and delivered a solid strike to the giant’s groin. The monster fell to one knee with a moan but refused to surrender. He swiped his goobery, watering eyes with a filthy hand and yanked Jason’s curls with the other. Jason shrieked in agony.

Michaela unfroze from her shocked position on the sidelines and rushed in to save her brother. She swiftly kicked the giant’s jaw, not even stopping when she heard a satisfying crunch. In a desperate effort to save himself, the monster seized Michaela’s leg with his free hand and continued to hold Jason captive by his curly locks. Michaela landed on her back, helpless to save herself or her brother.

Mercury stood up timidly, straightened his posture, sucked in a breath for courage, and strode forward. He remembered that in his horror story, the monster had been killed by a stab in the back. Scanning the room quickly, he spotted the glass vase that sat on a shelf as decoration. Not very effective for stabbing, but he could improvise.

Snatching it off the shelf, Mercury threw it on the floor. It broke into four or five pieces; one of which was larger than his hand. Legs quivering, Mercury picked it up and scuttled across the room towards the struggling mass of humans and monster. “It’s just like one of your stories,” he murmured, and clenched the glass in his bony hand. Gathering every ounce of strength and resolution, Mercury brought the shard down fiercely and pierced the giant’s hairy back.

Blood poured from both the monster’s flesh and Mercury’s feeble hand. The giant slumped forward and began to shrink until he was the size of a small child. With a final gurgle, the monster died.

As Jason and Michaela scrambled to their feet and watched in amazement, Mercury stared in shock first at the fallen creature, then at his bleeding hand. Without a word, he dropped to the ground in a dead faint.

Jason burst out laughing. “Well, that was unexpected.”

Michaela turned and regarded her older brother. He hadn’t smiled like that in weeks. “You did it, bro. You ticked and still fought the monster.”