The Chess

His mother often said that she was just inviting him to play in the laboratory. She let him look at all sorts of things through a microscope, and she allowed him to stir different-colored liquids in test tubes under her guidance. He could even light a burner himself to fry marshmallows over an open flame when she was finished with more boring tasks. Because of his mother's experiments, the young boy saw his parents' work as a fun game that he couldn't lose. But some parts of the basement lab still scared him. There was something unhealthy about the rusty nails and the strange things that his father said could help them contact and trap ghosts. Once, he even saw with his own eyes a smaller piece of wood moving across an old alphabet board, pointing to different letters with its sharp tip. But he couldn't read at the time, and there were no witnesses, so his mother didn't believe him and told his father to stop scaring him. This strange alphabet board was kept in a place that little Danny called the "basement of basement." It was located below the laboratory and could only be accessed through a door in the floor. His mother didn't take him there, because unlike his father, she believed that there were too many dangerous things for children. But little Danny didn't understand this. He had lit a burner with his mother so many times, while his peers were forbidden to even touch matches. What could be more dangerous than matches? When his dad brought him there, the first thing he saw was a strange statue of a sad woman dressed in a dress that made her body look like an oval cocoon. Her expression was so sad that it was hard to describe, especially for a child. The statue seemed to be crying silently, with its empty eyes. The last time Danny was in the basement, this statue was definitely not there. However, that was a long time ago, and he had even learned to read by then. Danny wish he could remember which letters the arrow pointed to. — I'll need your help, son! — said father cheerfully as always, opening the dress of the iron statue. Little Danny found it surprising that there was no body inside. There was only emptiness and many rounded pyramid-shaped objects sticking out of the iron walls, some of which were covered with a thin layer of rust. The rounded tops of the pyramid-shaped objects shimmered in the light of the lamps, and it was clear that they had been rounded recently, as there were no signs of time on these areas, and the metal was shiny and looked almost new. — You'll need to stand inside for a while with this thing on your head, — his father said, handing him a device that looked like a cross between a helmet and a crown, almost like something from one of his cartoons that he'd seen on Saturday morning. — What is it? — asked Danny, cautiously feeling the blunt tip of one of the "pyramids". — It's an ancient artifact that can theoretically capture otherworldly energy. I can't fit inside, — he chuckled, patting his round belly. — My bone is too wide. But you can. — So I'll be alone inside? — Danny peered intently at his father's face, trying to understand him. The man smiled broadly, revealing his straight, white teeth. He laughed and squinted, his eyes sparkling like raindrops on a windowpane. — No, no! — exclaimed Jack, waving his hands. — I'll be right here, and I'll open the door for you if you're too scared. Danny scowled at his father, and muttering something like “I’m not afraid of anything,” he stepped inside the iron statue, allowing his father to place the strange crown-like helmet on his head and close the heavy door, leaving him in the darkness. Standing alone in the pitch-black darkness, inside iron statue full of dull but still obstructive objects sticking out of the walls on all sides, was uncomfortable. It was the first word that came to Danny's mind after what seemed like a couple of minutes. His father had forgotten to specify how long he would need to spend inside, with the steady hum of the device on his head, but it was unlikely that summoning the spirit would take much time. Outside, he could hear muffled footsteps and some commotion. Danny sighed. It was incredibly boring inside. And after a while, he realized that standing still was making his legs hurt. He'd spent a lot of time on his feet before, but never without moving. His knees were starting to ache, and his feet felt numb, as if they were slowly growing into the metal floor. Slowly, the boy began to feel the tension in his toes turn from just a slightly unpleasant sensation into an annoying tingling, and then into a burning sensation, as if the floor beneath sneakers was beginning to heat up. Carefully shifting his weight from one foot to the other, Danny felt something sharp poking him in the back, causing him to let out a quiet yelp of surprise. His father often forgot things, which his mother constantly reprimanded him for. Perhaps this time, he had simply forgotten about one of the sharp spikes in the closet. Alternatively, he may have overlooked the fact that not all of them had been dulled. — Dad, I got pricked, — Danny said, as loudly as he could. The sound of his voice shouldn't completely drown out the metal. His father should heard him. ― Dad? It seemed that there was no sound coming from outside. In the darkness of the rust-stinking iron statue, there was only the quiet, monotonous hum of the device on his head and the thumping of his own heart, which echoed in his ears. His father can forgotten many things, but he couldn't have forgotten him, could he? The leg that the boy had put all his weight on in order to give the other leg a little rest was not only aching, but also trembling slightly. Danny was forced to shift his weight from one leg to the other again , and he tried to do so as carefully as possible. Even when he heard the sound of his torn shirt behind him, he did not react too strongly. His mother had often told him that the key trait of a true scientist was the ability to control one's emotions. This was exactly what Danny was trying to do, ignoring the rapid beating of his heart and the ever-increasing electric hum. — That thing tore my shirt, Dad, — Danny said, trying to shout over the noise. Maybe his father couldn't hear him. — Mom's going to yell at us. He listened. Outside, he could hear the soft beeping of the machines and the ticking of the clock, but he couldn't hear his father. Had he really forgotten about him and just left? The thought frightened the child so much that he jerked back and ran into an sharpened iron peg, which tore his skin instead of his shirt.

***

Jess didn't sleep well. At all. The internet wasn't working, and she suspected that this wasn't an accident, but rather a deliberate action on her father's part. While it was likely that his intentions were well-meaning, it didn't make her feel any more at ease. She found herself wishing that she could fall into a restless sleep in front of her computer screen and wake up with a terrible backache, rather than staying awake for most of the night in her bed. In the morning, she had a terrible headache. She could barely wait for the first rays of a pale dawn to appear outside her window. The weather was disgustingly gray, the road was wet from the morning fog, and heavy clouds covered the sky. Jess quickly washed her face and tried to look presentable, ignoring the dull pain in the back of her head. The cold water provided some relief, allowing her to breathe deeply and remember her brother, who had been cooling the bathtub since morning. “At least now I know why you liked the cold so much,” the girl thought, wringing water from her bangs. She didn't want to search the entire house for her mobile, and it would have taken much longer. Instead, she used the landline to call herself, and by the faint vibration of her smartphone, she found it in a drawer above the kitchen counter, next to the cereal and the TV remote. It's a good thing her father isn't the best conspirator in the world. Since yesterday evening, the situation with the missing plane has not changed, according to the latest news. In fact, it has gotten worse due to the storm warning along its intended route. According to news reports, a heavy rainstorm with thunderstorms seems to have been following the missing aircraft, and the airline believes this could be the reason why the Boeing disappeared from ground-based radars. Jess just snorted and rolled her eyes. Yesterday they were talking about a satellite system failure, and today... However, it was unlikely that they themselves knew exactly what had happened and why. In the news feed, she happened to notice a modest report about the body of a young child found at the airport from which, as she remembered, Danny and his mother had departed. The death of the unidentified child was overshadowed by the news of the missing plane, and for a brief moment, Jess felt sorry for the girl. A sketch of a dark-skinned child with huge, expressive eyes looked at her from a news magazine page with resentment. The phone rang in the hall. The girl hurried to pick up the phone before the ringing would wake her father. — Hello? — she said curtly into the phone, forgetting all the rules of telephone etiquette. Her heart began to beat faster. — Jess? Is that you, dear? — Aunt Alice's voice on the other end was slightly crackly. Even landline phones didn't have good reception in her remote area. — Yes, — a familiar voice provided some relief. — Glad to hear you. The clock on the wall showed it was half past six in the morning. Auntie usually got up early, but she never called them at this time, knowing that city folk liked to sleep in, not having any chores to do before breakfast. ― Me too, honey. Hope I didn't wake you up, ― the tone of her voice made it easy to imagine her nervous smile. — No, that's okay, — Jess reached for the small panel in the pantry next to the landline to reconnect the internet. — Dad made me go to bed, if he didn't do that I would have been scrolling through the news all night. I know it wouldn't have changed anything, but... — I understand, — Alice said with a sigh. — I'm also nervous from yesterday. I could hardly wait for morning. — So do I, — the girl smiled, closing the shield. The internet connection was restored with a flick of a small toggle switch. Her gaze fell on the doormat. A letter had been slipped through the mail slot either yesterday or this morning, and it was now lying on the floor. Judging by the sender's address, it was from the patent office. — I don't know what to do. Want to do something to help, but I don't know what. The letter was addressed to her father. Jess didn't hesitate to open it and start reading. Little things like reading other people's mail were the least of her concerns at the moment. With her phone pressed against her shoulder, she carefully tore off the perforated edge of the envelope. — I was thinking, maybe you'd like me to come to you? — Alice asked. — I could help out around the house, and just keep you company. It might be a little more peaceful together. — It'll take you at least a day to get here by bus. Besides, you've got your own household to take care of. I don't want to put you through all this stress, we're all on edge, — Jess quickly scanned the letter, which approved her father's request to register an "anti-ghost weapon" with Ectopene. Apparently, he had submitted all the necessary paperwork just a few days before the ghost appeared in their home and attempted to strangle him. What an irony, to announce yourself as a hunter and then almost be killed by the same ghosts. — There are other planes, — aunt replied. — Do you want to put yourself on the missing persons list?! — Jess almost dropped the letter. She shifted the phone in her hand and placed the papers on the table next to the phone. — Are you crazy? — Come on, dear, — the woman on the other end sighed. — What are the chances of something like this happening again? Besides, tickets are definitely going to get cheaper. ― Auntie! ― she interrupted the woman, who laughed softly into the phone. ― Please don't. I'm sure my father and I can handle it. If I need help, I'll definitely call you. — All right, all right, — the woman said, still chuckling softly. — I'll stay in Arkansas for now, if you promise to call me in the evening. I want to make sure everything's okay with you. — I promise, — Jess said on a sigh before saying goodbye. Her father still hadn't come out of bedroom. He always slept soundly, and it seemed that nothing could disturb his restful sleep. After hanging up the phone, the girl decided to check on her father and maybe wake him up. At the very least, she wanted to inform him about the approved patent. — Dad, — she knocked softly on the door, which opened with a soft creak. Strange, hadn't it been closed yesterday? — Are you asleep? The girl carefully opened the door all the way, peering into her parents' bedroom. The man was lying on his back, still asleep. His mouth was wide open, but he wasn't snoring. Even his broad chest seemed barely moving with his breathing. "Dad?" ― she called softly, feeling an unpleasant stirring on her neck. Reaching out to scratch, she bumped into something alive with her fingers. With a startled squeak, Jess shook off the spider. A small domestic haymaking spider with long thin legs sticking absurdly out of a tiny body. ― Disgusting! ― she exclaimed, slamming the insect with an envelope. The spider's body spread out on the white paper, leaving a brownish and greenish stain. — Dad! — The girl walked closer to her father, who was still asleep despite her shouting. She shook his shoulder and immediately recoiled with a scream. Spiders came out of the man's mouth. Dozens of tiny longlegs, similar to the one she had just swatted, came out of the man's open mouth and ran around the bed, their thin legs moving and pushing each other. They jumped from the bed onto the frightened girl, tickling her skin with their disgusting limbs. Jess felt like they were getting everywhere at an incredible speed. They tried to get into her mouth, ears, and eyes to build the same nest they had just escaped from. Jess ran to the phone, screaming and shaking off spiders as she went. Today's emergency operator will start with a non-standard call.

***

―... We were friends. ― We were. This is a very important clarification. ― Don't be like that. ― Like what exactly? Uncomfortable, or maybe too straightforward? ― You're acting like an arrogant asshole! That's not how I remember you. ― You'd think you knew me at least a little, instead of only noticing me when you or your...Jack, needed something from me. Helping with the dean's office, getting permission to conduct experiments, covering up a couple of accidents that damaged university property. You were only interested in benefiting from my company. But not in me. ― No... ― No? And where did I go wrong? ― Vlad, you... ― Do me a favor, Maddy, don't continue. Don't ruin opinion about yourself anymore than you already have done.

***

Maddy woke up abruptly. The soft bed and warm blanket wrapped around her tired body in a comforting embrace, and her fever seemed to have subsided, although the pain in her leg remained. Her heart was still racing from the nightmare that had plagued her, mixing with memories of the past. The thunderstorm outside had subsided, but the rain still lingered. Large raindrops pattered against the window, partially obscured by the light curtains. In the reflection of the dressing table mirror next to the window, she saw a woman leaning against the doorframe with her shoulder. A striking blonde with a short bob haircut and strange circular spots on her forehead, half-hidden by her straight bangs, was staring at her through the reflections with a smirk. But as Maddy turned around, the doorway was empty. Well, almost. A nearly perfectly white cat with black spots on its face was sitting in the slightly open door. The animal entered the room with the lazy, masterful gait of all felines. The animal's bright blue eyes and the pattern on its fur seemed vaguely familiar to Maddy. It was as if she had met him before. After passing by the bed, the cat climbed under the curtains and jumped onto the windowsill, apparently finding a new place to enjoy the rain. Looking around, Maddy noticed a pair of crutches next to the bedside table, as well as a glass of water and a bottle of painkillers on the table. Vlad had always been a thoughtful person, even in college. It's a boring quality when you're in your early twenties. But almost everyone start appreciating it later in life, when the thrill of spontaneous adventures loses its romance. Taking her crutches, Maddy got up from the bed and slowly, getting used to the new extra support, walked into the corridor. Masters's big house was quiet. It seemed that his workers did everything they could to avoid the guests. Or maybe they just didn't like the company of strangers, just like their reclusive master, who obviously preferred to stay as far away from crowds as possible. From the large living room came the sound of quiet voices, one of which was definitely Vlad's. Only as she approached closer could Maddy make out what he was saying, apparently to one of his servants. Servants... why not call a spade a spade? — ... the damage isn't severe, but everything is flooded with water. We can start repairs right away if necessary, — said a male voice that didn't belong to Masters. — No, we'll wait for the rain to stop, get rid of the moisture, and then you can deal with the damage caused by the lightning, — Vlad replied in a confident and calm tone. — We don't need any electrical accidents. I think we can wait a couple of hours. It's not a critical time. — Is something wrong? — Maddy asked when she finally reached the archway leading to the hall. — Oh, you're awake, — Masters said with a tired smile. Water dripped from his gray hair, which he wiped with a towel draped over his shoulders. It seemed as if he had just stepped out of a heavy rainstorm. — How are you feeling, Maddie? — Okay, — she felt a little tense inside because Vlad had ignored her question in favor of a silly desire to be proper. — So what happened? — A lightning strike hit our radio tower, — explained the young man standing to Vlad's right. — It's nothing serious, but it might take a while for you to contact your family. — The man tried to appear calm, but his apologetic smile made Maddy feel uneasy. — We'll wait for the storm to pass and fix this little inconvenience as quickly as we can. You're free, Grimley, — Vlad dismissed his servant, who hurried away with a brief nod. — I hope you're feeling better, — Vlad added as the servant disappeared into the dim hallway. — Danny will need your support when he wakes up. Maddy sat down carefully on the couch. Thinking about her son made her feel sick. Her boy had been through too much in the last twenty-four hours and was probably lying in bed, exhausted, with restless dreams. He hadn't told her what he'd seen in the crashed plane. He refused to tell her how he'd gotten their hiking backpacks, which had survived relatively intact only by a miracle. He ignored the bloodstains on his jeans and his bare feet. — How is he? — the woman asked, looking into Vlad's eyes and hoping that he would not belittle situation. — Surprisingly good, — the man briefly looked away, staring somewhere behind her. — I assume he had the same deflector as you? — Yes, — she nodded cautiously. — It seems that he, like you, shorted it out and got rid of it back in the forest, — Vlad continued, taking the damp towel off his shoulders and tossing it carelessly onto the wooden coffee table. — It's nothing serious, — he hastened to reassure his guest. — Just a few minor burns. Judging by the scars on his back, you've seen worse in your expeditions. Maddy was busy analyzing the information she had received. There had been many incidents on her and Danny's expeditions, from encounters with snakes to the loss of supplies due to wild animals that wanted to feed without the effort of hunting. However, nothing had ever required medical attention. — What scars? — she asked, moving to the very edge of the sofa, closer to Vlad, who, judging by the expression on his face, was sure that he had not told her anything special.

***

Eyes were staring at him from the dark depths of the forest. Bright, burning like two embers, they flickered slightly in the gloom, burning through him. — What do you want? — the boy asked the monster in the forest. His voice trembled with tears, but the monster only responded with a soft, contented purr. Like a giant, well-fed cat, it slowly blinked, staring directly into the boy's eyes. The fallen leaves rustled softly beneath its heavy paws as it shifted its weight from one foot to the other. ― Why are you making me do terrible things? The boy felt his legs give way, and he slowly sank to the cold, wet ground, barely able to hold back his tears. The beast began to move, slowly circling the circular clearing, which was bathed in a dim, greenish light, and in the center of which sat the child, carefully wiping the tears from his eyelashes with the sleeve of his tattered bomber jacket. The monster grumbled softly and sniffed the air, taking in the scent of salt. — Why do I have to be like this because of you? — The boy could still taste the sweetness of raw human flesh on his tongue. The warmth and tenderness of a body that hadn't fully cooled down. The feeling of fullness made him want to vomit. The realization of how much he enjoyed the taste of human flesh made him want to cut out his own tongue. — I killed someone there, — he sobbed, looking at the ground. His hands had changed. Nails were black as a dead man's, elongated and sharpened like predatory claws, and had a more durable structure. He stuck them into the frozen ground, which smelled of rotten leaves, mold, and other forms of decay from long-dead creatures. His claws easily penetrated the cold, frozen soil. The crumbs of ice crunched under his fingers, providing a soothing coolness. — You were attacked, — the creature from the forest replied for the first time, and its voice was muffled, with a hint of animalistic growl. — You defended yourself. Kill or be killed. That is the law of the dark forest. The creature moved out of the thicket towards him, stepping slowly and carefully into the circle of light in the forest clearing. It was huge. With long, clawed limbs. It was covered in thick, black fur that hung from its body in wet, tangled strands, as if it had spent a long time in the rain or snow. It smelled of dampness and meat. Fresh meat that had been alive not long ago. The mouth full of sharp teeth was smeared with blood, and the long tongue licked hungrily and contentedly. The frost-covered leaves and twigs crunched under the beast's heavy footsteps. — I could have just fought back and run away. I could have chosen not to kill and not to eat afterwards, — the boy cried, looking into the indifferent green eyes. — Many have been killed in this world to become food, — the thunderous voice coming from the blood-stained maw mesmerized and tranced with its sound. It enveloped and penetrated the mind. — Plants emerge and feed the worms during their eternal growth. The worms are born to be consumed by the birds. The birds fly to feed the pumas one day. And the pumas die to provide food for the new trees as their bodies decompose. There is a respect for life itself in this mutual devouring. The monster got down on all fours in front of the boy sitting on the ground and licked his face with a warm rough tongue, collecting the tears that were streaming down his cheeks. In addition to the blood, the monster's huge and intimidating mouth smelled of milk. — You asked why I am here, — the monster leaned even closer, resting his forehead against the man's. — I exist to survive where the weak die. I am here to be a part of death, which will nourish by life. I am one of many who form an eternal cycle that cannot be broken, for death and life are inseparable halves of each other.

***

Danny emerged from the depths of his dream slowly and smoothly. The monster's large, rough tongue had become small and harmless. The cat's gentle and teasing touch on his cheeks was accompanied by a purring sound, bringing him back to reality. He lazily pushed cat away from his face and stretched, feeling the cool air and the scent of wood. It took him a moment to remember where he was, lying on his bed with his face buried in the pillow. His face felt swollen, and his cheeks were still wet. “Did I cry in my sleep?” he asked himself, remembering how the monster from the dark forest had licked the tears from his face. A white cat rubbed its furry face against his side, purring softly and offering its flexible back for petting. The window in his room was open and the fresh wind gently swayed the light curtains. The rain had stopped and the air outside smelled of damp earth and freshness. “It’s strange, I don’t think I opened anything,” — Danny thought absently as he lazily climbed out of bed and pulled a tank top and a light shirt, one of the items Masters had given him in exchange for the ones that had been irreparably damaged. The pleasant fabric felt slightly damp due to the increased humidity in the air. The marks from the transparent deflector on his stomach has become almost invisible, resembling mild sunburns or irritation. He lightly touched the red spot with his fingers before buttoning the lower buttons of his shirt. To the touch, the skin was hot and thin, covered with small, raised bumps. There was some commotion outside, and the sound of a pump running. Danny pulled back the curtain and saw the end of a wide hose dripping water. It seemed that something had been flooded during the storm at Masters' estate. The teenager's battered smartphone finally came to life when it was plugged in. However, there was still no signal. The crossed-out antenna icon meant that they couldn't contact their loved ones and friends to let them know that they were okay. Well, considering mother's injury, they were at least alive. Danny shook his head, pushing away the memories of the dead in the crashed plane and the gnawed-on corpse he'd left lying in the aisle. Vlad had reassured him yesterday, saying that everything would be fine, and he wanted to believe it, even if it was difficult. Danny slipped his phone into the pocket of his too-loose trousers and quietly left the room, with the white cat following him, getting in his way and looking up at him as if trying to beg for a treat for being so nice.

***

Jess spent the entire time waiting for the ambulance on the porch of her house, scratching her wrists until they bled, her skin still feeling the phantom touch of the thin, chitinous limbs. She kept brushing invisible bugs off her neck and cheeks. She felt as if the small creatures had crawled under her clothes and were tickling her body. The vivid image of a horde of tiny spiders crawling out of her father's mouth and scattering across the bed would haunt her for years to come. The father was looking at the crowd of people in the bedroom in disbelief when he woke up from a sound sleep so that the doctors could barely wake him up. “Have you started to fall asleep spontaneously? Do any of your relatives have trouble sleeping?” — the doctors asked , making sure that all the spiders were missing from the man 's throat . The fact that he answered “No” to all these questions angered Jess, forcing her to briefly admit the idea that the spiders had gotten into his mouth at the whim of cruel karma. But there is no such thing as Karma. The doctors offered him hospitalization and observation. In fact, they insisted that the insects might have gone too deep into his throat, and the effects were not yet visible. — They're not poisonous. So if they got into my stomach, that's their problem, — Jack replied with a big smile. It was sickening to look at his row of snow-white, even teeth. The girl could see a spider's leg, thin as a hair, stuck between them. By the time the medical team arrived, there were still many of these small creatures on her parents' bed. They continued to crawl out of the man's throat until he finally woke up. “How can you sleep so soundly with spiders in your throat?!” — the girl marveled as the long medical tool removed the last pair of spiders, already almost dead and covered in thick saliva. "We need to call the exterminators," Jess said. As she nervously braided her red hair into a tight ponytail, she made sure that not a single hair touched the exposed areas of her neck, lest her imagination conjure up a spider slowly crawling towards her ear. After the emergency medical staff left, Jess didn't feel safe anymore, and a creepy, sticky feeling of anxiety seemed to be crawling under her skin, making her pay attention to every speck of dust that touched her. "Princess, that's unnecessary," Jack said, sipping his second cup of coffee without taking his eyes off the news, which still didn't have anything new to report. It seemed that the man himself was well aware of the disgusting situation he was in, and he was trying to wash away the feeling of insects in his throat with a bitter coffee without milk or sugar. However, he hadn't consumed coffee in this manner for a long time. — The spiders have made a nest out of your throat, — Jess rolled her braid into a bun at the back of her head and secured it with a pair of chopsticks. ― If there are so many of them in our house now, there is no guarantee that they won't do it again tonight. ― Dear, these are just harmless spiders. They are not dangerous, not poisonous, and not even aggressive. There is no point in getting rid of someone we can't even see right now. — But you're sure that ghosts need to be exorcised. You and your mother do regular 'cleansings', even though we've never seen a ghost, — Jess said, pulling her turtleneck sleeves down to her fingertips and wrapping her arms around her knees, pulling them up to her chest. She curled up in a ball on her corner of the couch, trying to make herself as small as possible. — That's different, Princess, — Jack sighed wearily, rubbing the bridge of his nose. — For you, maybe, — she said, standing up abruptly and going to the closet to get her jacket, shaking it a couple of times and turning the sleeves inside out in disgust to check for insects before putting it on. — I'm going for a walk. I'll grab a couple of cans of Dichlorvos or ask a friend to let me stay over. If you're not afraid of what happened, you're welcome. Jess slipped her phone into her jacket pocket and checked to make sure she hadn't forgotten her charger. Fortunately, the wire was in its place in the bag. There was no desire to go up to the second floor once again. Closing the front door behind her, she breathed more freely. It seemed that this horde of arthropods would not follow her into the street. He just won't be able to get that far from his nest. Looking at the slightly cracked phone screen, the girl belatedly thought that she shouldn't have refused Aunt Alice's offer. When she was talking to her father one-on-one, she felt the need for a third party to make the conversation more productive, which was usually filled by either her mother or Danny. Although Jack usually dismissed his son's opinions as too childish, it forced him to think about things and try to find some compromises. — I didn't think I'd miss you this much, Danny, — a heavy, salty drop fell on the phone screen, causing the sensitive screen to shake slightly and scroll the news feed.

***

The phone still wasn't working, and the mobile couldn't pick up a signal in this remote mountain area. The road leading to Masters' mountain chalet had been washed out by a torrential downpour that only ended in the late afternoon. Although occasional raindrops still fell from the gloomy gray sky, the antenna repair was progressing relatively well. With any luck, they would be able to contact their families by evening, and then they could start planning their return journey. They wanted to find a more humane way to return, rather than disrupting the hunter's world so abruptly. Maddy had already experienced enough for one day. Danny sat on the cold steps in front of the main entrance to Masters's overly secluded mansion, absentmindedly stroking the white cat that purred loudly, curled up on his lap. The feeling of its warm and soft fur under his fingers was soothing, and the monotonous sound put him in a kind of trance. Looking ahead, the teenager gazed at the dense forest, the chain of mountain peaks that hid the horizon, and his thoughts inevitably returned to the monster from his dream. To its growling voice, which spoke to him about life and death with such simplicity and calmness. There was nothing complicated about his reasoning, but it was horrifying in its simplicity. Sam would have said that something like this didn't apply to humans. Her vegan philosophy was that humans were superior to animals and therefore had a responsibility towards them. Humans were the pinnacle of evolution, the highest form of life at the time, which meant that they had not only advantages over the world around them but also certain obligations towards those who were lower on the hierarchy. The monster's logic was truly bestial. In his worldview, there was no king above all. In his logic, everyone was born to become someone's food one day. Whether it was a predator or a corpse worm, it didn't matter. Born to eat and live. Died to nourish others and help survive. It was a horrifyingly simple scheme. It seemed impossible to break free from this cycle without destroying everything. “There is respect for life itself in this mutual devouring.” The forest was whispering, rustling its green branches in the wind. Danny listened carefully, he could hear the rustling of a bird's wings as it emerged from its nest after the rain and preened itself for flight. He could also hear the sound of water droplets crashing to the ground, falling from the tips of the pine needles. The buzzing of colorful beetle wings, delicate and fragile but protected by a sturdy chitinous shell that shimmered like a precious gem in the rare sunlight. — I hope you're feeling better, — Vlad's voice sounded muffled for a teenager who was focused on the awakening forest. The man gently touched the top of his head, running his fingers through the boy's tangled and unruly black hair, bringing him back to reality, where he was still sitting on the cold and slightly damp steps, stroking the cat on his lap. The animal stirred at the sound of its owner's voice and yawned, revealing its neat white fangs. — Yeah, a little, — the voice was so hoarse that Danny had to clear his throat before continuing. — At least I got some sleep. — It's always a good to sleep in this time. Our unconscious tells us that it's safe, because no one hunts in the rain, — Vlad seemed surprisingly real now, almost unrestrained by the manners he needed to maintain in public. — How's Mom? — Danny asked cautiously, returning his gaze to the forest. — Why don't you ask her yourself? — Masters suggested. With his hands clasped behind his back, he watched a bird of prey soar over the mountains in the distance. The teenager didn't respond. Looking down, he tried to return to petting the cat, but the willful animal, fully awake, jumped off his lap and began to stretch its flexible body, releasing its claws. — You'll be able to call home soon, so why don't you and Maddy discuss how to reassure your worried family and friends? — Vlad's voice was as calm as ever. It was as if there were almost no situations or emotions that could unsettle him... Or rather, there were no situations or emotions that could unsettle him if you thought about it. — Yeah, — Danny said, looking down at his bare feet. He'd been scrubbing so hard at the forest dirt and the remnants of the dead passengers' blood that he'd overdone it and damaged his skin. There was an uneven, dark crust of blood around his thumbnail, but he knew for sure that there was no wound beneath it, thanks to his Ghostly, Beastly half. ― Is something wrong? ― the man's voice, calm and soft, somehow evoked an association with the beast from the dream. ― A lot of things,― Danny replied distantly, getting up and brushing off his trousers. ― When my mom and I get home, we will be inundated with questions. About you. They will find out where this place is located. What's on the plane... Danny bit his lip. The memory of eating juicy human flesh brought back an unnaturally pleasant taste to his tongue, which made stomach rumble. The thought of one of the normal people finding out what he had done made him feel sick. — I don't think there's any reason to worry so much, my boy. — Vlad gently placed his hand on his shoulder, trying to reassure him. — The rain has slightly washed away the frightening smells, so I believe the curious predators have already scented the easy prey. By the time the wreckage is discovered, its contents will have become part of the forest. — It's terrible, — Danny muttered, wrapping his arms around his shoulders and trying to focus on the warmth of Masters' hand through the thin fabric of his shirt. ― What's really terrible is the reason that brought you and your mother here, ― Vlad squeezed the teenager's shoulder a little tighter, wrapping an arm around him. ― I think everyone will be most interested in why the plane crashed, taking many lives with it, rather than what happened afterward when the you and your mother were trying to survive. Danny froze. A thought that had been waiting all this time, pushed to the farthest and darkest corner of his mind, suddenly came to life after Masters's words. At the time of the accident, he didn't have much time to think about such things. As the plane began to disintegrate in mid-air and a piece of the luggage rack hit his mother's head, knocking her unconscious, he was focused on surviving, barely registering the hysterical cries of someone about a monster on the plane's wing. The ghostly half was torn between two vivid sensations: the desire to escape from the airborne iron trap, and the bright red flame of pain caused by the deflector on his waist, turning his flesh into charred pieces of meat, skin, and ectoplasm. But now... What happened to the plane? What happened to the crew? How did it happen that the only survivor besides him and his mother tried to kill him by attacking him from behind? Why is the only thing he remembers from the fight were the bright, burning eyes with vertical pupils and the sharp claws that tried to rip his throat? The memory brought back a conversation between the passengers in front of them and the flight attendant at the beginning of their flight: “― I think one of the passengers let their cat out of the carrier. Can you make sure the animal doesn't wander around the cabin? — There are no passengers with animals on our flight, sir.” Danny looked at the white cat, which had jumped onto the wide black granite staircase and was meticulously washing itself with its rough pink tongue. “— A black cat with one ear ran right past us a short while ago”. The last time the teenager saw an animal that fit this description was a couple of minutes before the boarding announcement. In the hands of airport staff, along with a tiny kitten, as they were being carried out of the waiting room like smelly garbage rather than living creatures. The crowd cheered, seeing it as a show, an entertainment that brightened their last hours of life. But they probably didn't think about it as they fell. ― Daniel? ― Vlad gently shook the teenager's shoulder, bringing him out of his daze. — A cat, — he said, looking into his mentor's eyes. ― A cat? ― the man asked in bewilderment, ― I don't think I quite understand what you're talking about. — You're clearly more knowledgeable about supernatural beings than my parents, — the teenager began impulsively, stumbling over his words. — Tell me, is there anyone among them who can transform into a cat? The man studied his ward's face with a long and attentive gaze, trying to understand his thoughts and find an answer. — There are legends about werewolves who can transform into cats in almost every corner of the world, — he began slowly. A worried frown appeared between his gray eyebrows. — The information about their abilities may vary from one country to another, but there are definitely stories about cats. These werewolves are often described as extremely cruel and vengeful. However, I'm not entirely sure why...— The man's voice trailed off. A terrible realization flashed in his dark blue eyes. Otherworldly creatures had shown themselves to be anything but white and fluffy, needing protection from superstitious people and obsessed hunters. But what this creature had done went beyond any level of inadequately cruelty that Danny could have imagined. Any words seemed insufficient to describe all that had suddenly opened to the teenager's eyes in all its ugliness. Deprived of an ear, a part of its fur, and perhaps its last offspring, the animal's bitterness had shaken the balance that the dream monster had spoken of. It wasn't a murder for food or life. Not for the sake of survival, but out of some other darker and more insidious desire that ultimately led to the catastrophe. On the fringes of his unconscious, Danny heard the growling voice of an otherworldly monster from the dark forest, speaking in a voice too indistinct to make sense, and his own role in this chaos suddenly seemed too small and insignificant. A dark, unpleasant feeling stirred deep beneath his skin, along with supernatural powers, and for a moment, it erupted from his throat in the form of a stream of icy air, startling the heat-loving white cat and causing it to meow in annoyance.

***

― I can't believe my eyes... He didn't tell me anything. He never complained about anything like that. ― Maybe that's the problem. He's not just quiet, but I think he tends to take on too much. ― Where did it come from? How could it have appeared? And on his back?! ― Maybe it was an accident? He got into a fight with someone at school. ― How can you hide something like this? It's not just a small scratch or a bruise. It's clear that he's been stitched up. ― Maybe there's something else going on in your lab that you don't know about. ― It's impossible to hide a wound like this, Vlad. It's not like Jack and I didn't notice. ― Maybe only you didn't noticed? ― What are you getting at? ― I have nothing against you, Maddy. But you're not the only parent of the boy. And you're not the only one responsible for him. Maybe something happened without your. ― Jack would have told me if it was something serious. ― ... ― Don't look at me like that. Jack may be simple-minded, but he has a kind heart. He wouldn't do anything wrong to our son. ― Sometimes harm is done out of foolishness rather than malice. As you said, Jack is simple-minded, but there are certain disadvantages to that. The woman sighed heavily, burying her face in her hands. After she peeked into her son's room, where he was sleeping on top of the covers, and saw the same thing Vlad had seen while treating the boy's wounds from the ghost deflector, she felt terrible for a multitude of reasons. ― I'm sorry, I shouldn't have said or shown you all this without thinking it through again. ―Don't lie, Vlad. You've thought it through perfectly. Otherwise, it wouldn't be you.

***

“The wreckage of the aircraft was found in the Colorado mountains. Unfortunately, due to the difficult weather conditions, it was not possible to launch a search and rescue operation immediately. By the time rescuers arrived at the crash site, only two of the 180 passengers and crew members were still alive. M...” One click of the remote and the small TV in the break room went off. It was nearing nine o'clock in the evening, and most of the morgue staff had already left. Tomorrow would be a long and challenging day of identifying severely damaged bodies, and they needed to get a good night's rest. However, the head of the morgue, a middle-aged woman with gray streaks in her hair, had other plans. She casually tossed the remote onto one of the chairs, crossed her arms, and fixed her assistant with a serious gaze. Her eyes, heavily lined with black eyeliner, glared at the young man. — Do you even check your own work? — she asked sternly. — Just because it's internal documentation doesn't mean you can treat it like that. ― Dr. Rodriguez, there is no mistake in the documents, ― with a tired sigh, the young man rose from his seat, tiredly rubbing his eyes and putting the empty cup of coffee on the table. ― I've double-checked everything three times and counted them all. He trudged back to office, mentally preparing for another scolding. Dr. Rodriguez was a good and competent specialist, but her strictness sometimes went too far. On the one hand, being meticulous was an excellent quality for a pathologist, or anyone involved in medicine or the morgue. However, it also meant that he was constantly being reprimanded for every misplaced comma in a document that wasn't even his to fill out. But as the head of the department's assistant, he had to deal with it anyway, so at some point, he just accepted his fate and stocked up on incense sticks and a meditation mat. ― How many people were on the plane that brought us the bodies? ― the woman walked down the snow-white corridor towards the office, her low heels clicking loudly. As someone of old school and old notions of proper appearance, she preferred the aesthetics of total austerity to comfort, especially when she reached the position of head. — One hundred and eighty, — the young man replied without enthusiasm, knowing exactly what his boss was getting at. ― How many survivors are listed at the moment? She kept her back straight. Not a single hair escaped from the tight bun at the back of her head. She seemed like an idealized granite statue, not a living person. — Two, — the guy said as he followed his boss into the office and took a seat at his desk, preparing all the emails, folders, and reports he would need. — How many bodies did you count in the reports, Ash? — she leaned over him like an eagle, her eyes hard. — One hundred and seventy-nine. And there's no mistake, Dr. Rodriguez, — he counted to three in his head and tried to breathe as calmly as possible. — We've received exactly that number of bodies, according to the preliminary reports. I had suspicions that a dismembered body might have been mistaken for two, but no. For now, we're counting the number of heads. The remaining body parts will be identified by the experts tomorrow. — Are you absolutely certain about this? — For a moment, the woman's voice seemed less menacing and more nervous to Ash. — Perhaps someone was carrying the body of a loved one in their luggage for a funeral, and they were mistakenly identified as a passenger with an uncertain seat? — That's what I checked first, — Ash opened his work email and showed a letter from an airline representative who had contacted them incredibly quickly. Usually, no one with money would cooperate without consulting a group of lawyers three times. The passenger list is quite ordinary. No animals. No specific cargo. — Maybe she was counted as two? — Dr. Rodriguez pointed her little finger at the name of the woman listed in the letter as "pregnant." — No. — Ash shook his head. — She's one of the easiest to identify by her boarding pass. She was still strapped into her seat. One of the wreckage pieces had nailed her to the backrest, so you can't mistake her. Some animal had already tried her on. There's some missing soft tissue on her right shoulder and forearm, but she's otherwise pretty intact. With the baby inside, I mean. — Dr. Song was hesitant for a long time how to record her but in the end we decided to count her as one person for the documentation, it would be easier and I thought it was more correct. Less confusion. — Where did we get an extra body from, then? — The woman's voice became stern again. — It's normal for such situations to result in missing someone, not receiving an additional body as a gift. — At the moment, we have eighty unidentified bodies. They're going to be the most difficult to deal with, as all but one of them are fragmented. The only thing left of the one of individual is his head, which was found in an eagle's ruined nest, along with the eagle's corpse on the lower branches. I don't really want to think about how it got there, — Ash usually calmed himself and his strict boss by providing as much detail as possible about the current situation. There was something meditative about this list of facts that would horrify any normal person. ― What's wrong with this body? ― Dr. Rodriguez carefully studied the list of unidentified corpses. ― Why couldn't it be identified by its ticket? — It's more complicated than that, — Ash sighed, opening the unknown's file. The first photo showed a middle-aged black woman with dull black hair that was curled into small curls. Her body had already begun to decompose and develop livor mortis due to the weather conditions. There was almost no flesh left on her neck, and her neck vertebrae were visible through the torn and rotten flesh. Based on the photos, she also lacked both of her ears, with one of them having been lost long before her unfortunate flight. Dr. Rodriguez carefully examined the images as she listened to her assistant's monologue. ― She was found in the aisle of the plane. She didn't have any identification or valuables on her. She had numerous scars on her body, including a large area of scarred skin on the back of her head. She also had a missing left ear, which was amputated quite roughly, judging by the scar. Dr. Sanders suggested that it was likely torn off in an accident. She most likely died after the crash due to an attack by a wild animal. They couldn't determine the exact species. The edges of the wound had been eaten by scavenging insects, and there were no traces of teeth on the bones. But judging by the approximate size of the wounds and their location, it was a relatively large wolf, although Dr. Sanders, who treated her, still had doubts about it, — Ash stretched lazily, cracking his spine. — I think once our legal team has processed all the information from the relatives of the currently missing individuals, we'll have more tools to identify this Jane Doe. Dr. Rodriguez silently took up the keyboard to scroll through a couple of photos and stopped at a picture from the morgue, which showed a close-up of the deceased's face with her eyes open, peering intently at the image. — Do you see that? — she asked without taking her eyes off the photo. The young man began to study the photograph. At first, he thought it was no different from any other photograph taken to capture facial features and other distinctive characteristics that could be useful for identification purposes. However, as he examined the dead face with its swollen, blue lips, he realized that something had caught his boss's attention. — Eyes? — Ash clarified, just in case. — Yes, — the woman said, nervously tapping her fingers on the table. — Maybe it's a photo defect? It happens sometimes with digital images, — Ash shrugged, trying to come up with the most logical explanation for the sharp vertical pupils in the corpse's cloudy eyes. Dr. Rodriguez straightened up and, with her arms crossed over her chest, continued to stare at the photograph in silence. Her face expressed the familiar irritation that Ash was used to seeing, fueled by a pile of work and, apparently, the vultures that were the reporters, who were willing to do anything in pursuit of a story: even follow Rodriguez from work to her apartment, or break into the morgue in the middle of the night. The city's police chief had kindly provided their facility with his own men to patrol the area, which had alleviated at least some of the problems. But there was something else in the doctor's gaze that Ash couldn't fully identify, even though he had worked with her for over a year. — Dr. Rodriguez? — Ash cautiously addressed the head of the department. — She's going to cause us a lot of trouble, — the woman sighed as she headed out of the office, leaving her assistant puzzled. — Tell Dr. Sanders to drop the patients she's already working with tomorrow and focus on Jane Doe. I want a complete report on her autopsy. Is that clear? — Yes, — Ash nodded to his departing boss, completely lost in the woman's train of thought.