Next Thing
Next Thing
As evening came over the silent sleepy town of Greenly Bay, the sun set slowly, dipping behind the veil in deep orange. Vera was at her desk in the precinct, and the room was brightened by the warm glow of a lamp on the desk.
The air smelled of stale coffee, old paper, and the faint metallic tang of gun oil from the weapons locker down the hall. Outside, the town was quiet—too quiet—the kind of silence that made her skin crawl after everything they had endured.
Kane leaned against the edge of her desk, his arms crossed, his presence a steady anchor in the storm. His bruises from Orishirishi’s attack had faded to yellow, but the tension in his shoulders remained. They had been talking for nearly an hour, circling the same impossible questions.
“Martin,” Vera said quietly, rubbing her temples. “Eleanor kept saying the man with the hook is coming back. It doesn’t make sense. We cast him away. The spellbook worked. Kivior and Lina did it themselves and since that time, we haven't seen him.”
Kane exhaled slowly, running a hand through his hair. “I know. But if she’s right… if the curse is resetting itself… then we’re right back where we started. Children disappearing. Bodies by the river. The whole nightmare is repeating.”
Vera reached into her drawer and pulled out the small parchment they had found with the spellbook—the one about appeasing the casters.
The paper was old and fragile, the ink faded but still legible. She unrolled it carefully, the faint scent of aged paper rising between them.
“This,” she said, tapping the parchment. “It says the casters must be appeased with the peace of the Lord, not cast away violently. But how? What does that even mean? We’ve tried everything. The daggers. The spellbook. Prayer. Nothing seems to break it for good.”
Kane moved behind her, wrapping his arms around her shoulders in a gentle embrace. His warmth seeped through her uniform, his breath soft against her hair.
“We’ll figure it out. We always do. More children aren’t going to die. Not if we can help it.”
Vera leaned back into him, closing her eyes for a moment. The steady rhythm of his heartbeat against her back was the only thing keeping her grounded.
“I hope you’re right. I just want this nightmare to be finally over, but it just keeps going."
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On the other side of town, deep in the woods near the river, a teenage couple moved cautiously through the underbrush.
The boy—Jake—held a kerosene lantern high. Its warm flame was flickering and casting long shadows across the trees.
The air was cool and damp. It carried the rich scent of pine, wet earth, and the distant tang of the river. Crickets chirped loudly, and leaves rustled under their feet.
The girl—Sarah—stayed close to him, her hand gripping his arm. “Jake, this is far enough. We didn’t have to come all the way out here. My parents are going to kill me if they find out.”
Jake grinned, his voice low and excited. “Come on, it’s romantic. No one’s around. It's just us.”
They stopped in a small clearing. The lantern light illuminated their faces. Sarah’s worry melted as Jake pulled her close, kissing her deeply.
Their lips moved together and their breaths quickened. His hands slid down her back, pulling her tighter against him.
For a moment, the world disappeared—just the warmth of their bodies, the soft sounds of their kisses, and the distant hooting of an owl.
Then they heard it. A faint noise deeper in the woods—a metallic clink, like something being dropped.
Sarah pulled back, breathing hard. “What was that?”
Jake’s eyes lit up with thrill. “Yeah, I heard it too. Let’s go check it out.”
“Jake, no—”
But he was already moving, lantern held high. Sarah reluctantly followed, her heart pounding. They moved through the brush until they reached a small, hidden cave. The entrance was partially concealed by vines and fallen branches. The air inside was cooler, damper, carrying the faint scent of sulfur and old stone.
They stepped inside. The lantern light revealed a small altar-like slab of rock. On it lay two daggers—beautiful, silver-blue blades etched with ancient symbols that seemed to glow faintly in the flickering light.
"Wow," Jake said in awe, "This place looks like a scene from a horror novel."
Sarah’s eyes widened when she noticed the daggers. “What are those?”
Jake picked one up carefully, turning it in the light. “They look old. Valuable. We could sell them. Get out of this town.”
Sarah hesitated, but the thrill won. She took the other dagger. “Let’s go. Before someone sees us.”
They slipped out of the cave, the daggers hidden in their jackets, and disappeared into the night.
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Meanwhile, back at Greenly Bay Medical Haven, the night shift officer sat dozing in a chair outside Eleanor Hawthorne’s room. The hallway was quiet, the only sounds the distant beeping of monitors and the soft hum of fluorescent lights. The air smelled of antiseptic and old linoleum.
A dark mist swirled silently past him, seeping under the door like smoke.
Inside the room, the mist coalesced into Moriah’s towering form. Eleanor’s eyes snapped open, wide with terror. She tried to scream, but Moriah’s hand clamped over her mouth, cold and strong.
“You’ve been blabbing lately, old woman,” Moriah whispered, her crimson eyes gleaming. “You’ve outlived your usefulness. I know you can figure out how to break the curse… and I can’t have that.”
Eleanor struggled weakly, her frail body trembling. Moriah picked up a pillow from the bed and pressed it firmly over the old woman’s face. Eleanor’s hands clawed desperately at Moriah’s arms, but her strength faded quickly. Her struggles grew weaker… then stopped completely.
Moriah lifted the pillow, smiling in cold triumph as she looked down at Eleanor’s lifeless face.
"Say hi to Ori for me when you get to hell. Make sure to give her all the details about my plans for this godforsaken piece of land that she so desperately wanted for herself."