The Dark One (Nyhterides Writing Prompt)

I remember the night Tony and two of his buddies vanished. It was Canada Day. We'd all been celebrating with a huge BBQ. Friends and families ate, drank, and ran around with sparklers in their hands until it was darker than dark.

Tony, Eddie, and Reese had taken off on their bikes to seek adventure as twelve-year-olds do. I wanted to go with them, ride free with my older brother and his friends, but my dad held me back, laughed, and told me my little legs would not reach the pedals just yet.

I cried as I watched them ride off.

They never came back home.

We searched for months; everybody did. The boys' faces were plastered on posters and on the news from British Columbia to Newfoundland. No one was ever found: no bikes, no shoes, and no bodies of little boys rotting away.

Twenty years passed.

I am now twenty-four. I still live in my parents' old pace. They both passed. Both riddled with guilt of never finding Tony and the others. It took me a long time to bury the sorrow brought on by my brother the day he disappeared.

Then one day a knock came at my door. A twelve-year-old Tony, missing for twenty years, bolted into the house and slammed the door behind him with such might the windows shook. He looked up at me with feral eyes and I let out a mighty scream.

It was as though time had stood still for him. Where time had touched us it had not him. He fell into my arms, his clothes were ratty, his skin covered in dirt, and he smelt like blood and the ground before it rains. Canine teeth protruded; his nails had grown long.

"She's coming, Cameron," he whispered in a voice as gravelly and old as a ninety-year-old smoker's. He grabbed me tight, urgency in his tone. "We need to—" Wild eyes darted around the room. "—run. Fast. She's coming..."

What I saw terrified me. My brother, once full of life, looked skeletal. Tony looked like some mad, savage Peter Pan, a boy that had not grown up.

His words frightened me more than his ghastly look. Who? I wanted to ask. Who is coming?

He grabbed my face and pulled me close to his until we were inches apart. Dirt was etched in his pores, on the liens on his face, and his irises were rimmed red. As if he had heard my thoughts, my brother replied, "The Dark One."

****

How...?

I didn't know what to do. Tony didn't say much after the garbled warning and instead withdrew into this pale, shuddering shell. I didn't think it appropriate to keep pushing in, especially as it'd been so long since I saw him. I led him to the sofa in the living room with the fire. His stumbling gait was like an old man's, his joints stiff and his muscles wasted. It took him forever to relax enough to sit; he was so agitated. The light from the fire threw his shadow onto the walls. Almost without thinking, I darted up to his room and yanked the blanket off his bed to take downstairs. The room hadn't been touched since he left. My parents never went in since the day he vanished. The door was never locked, but nobody touched it and kept well clear even when passing it in the corridor. I opened the window, releasing the decades of stagnant air, throwing moonlight onto the mouldy carpet.

Dust had settled over his action figures, ones I would have killed for as a kid, with their shiny armour and changeable heads. A few of the posters of his favourite movies as a kid had fallen off the wall and lay in a limp pile on the wooden floor. I remembered looking at them with resentment back then because I had begged for the same, but my parents said we could share – what point was there in purchasing duplicates? He made me share my stuff, but Tony never let me share his. He was eight years older and yet he never acted like a caring older brother who would look out for me. No, I was his punch bag and a source of ridicule, but I looked up to him. Back then, I needed him more than he needed me.

Well, now it was the other way round. I couldn't deny my long-lost brother help, even if these circumstances were impossible.

I returned and wrapped his old blanket around him. His shoulders trembled underneath. He faced the fire, not acknowledging my presence, his expression impassive.

The first thing I did was phone my girlfriend, Zara. Reese's sister. I'd had a crush on her forever, but Reese would always punch me so hard when he caught me smiling at her. I'd proposed to her two months ago, and just two weeks ago she gave me the best news in the world: we were expecting a baby. The phone almost rang out before she picked up.

"Hey, babe." Her voice was groggy. One glance at the clock on the wall told me why: it was almost one o'clock. "Why're you calling so late?"

She didn't sound out of the ordinary. Reese mustn't have returned, then.

"Tony's back," I said. I heard her suck in a big breath and a rustle as she sat up in bed. I glanced at Tony. He hadn't heard anything. I leaned against the wall out in the hallway.

"Tony?" she whispered. "But how...?"

"I'd like to know, too. He looks exactly the same as he did back then. Still twelve years old. Nothing's changed."

There was a pregnant pause. "Are you having me on?"

"No! I swear to God. Come and see for yourself!"

"But... Reese?" Her voice cracked.

I shook my head, and then realised she couldn't see. "Just Tony, so far."

"And no Eddie?"

"How would I know?" The Merryweathers had moved out of town when the searches died down. The place reminded them of too much grief. My parents kept in touch with them until they died, but I didn't want anything to do with them. I wished my parents were here to see Tony now, even if his survival was a freak of nature. They were never the same when the town gave up the search. My mother pined for him; the tiniest thing would set her into a sobbing heap. My father threw himself into work, too stubborn and embroiled in society's expectation of men to allow any emotions. Their selves died with him that day; even my success in becoming one of the most renowned lawyers in Vancouver roused nothing in their deadened eyes. It didn't matter; I worked for myself, succeeded for myself.

"Cam?" Zara's voice jerked me out of my reverie. I realised I'd not spoken for several minutes. "Do you want me to come over?"

When I couldn't bring myself to give her answer, I heard her get up and the jingle of keys.

"I'll be over in ten."

I slid my mobile back into my jeans pocket. The darkness of the house appeared to creep closer, reminding me of Tony's terrified words. She's coming... The Dark One. I hurried back to Tony, glancing over my shoulder. The darkness ebbed and flowed around the edges of the room where the fire's light didn't –or couldn't – reach, almost as if it were alive. Thin black tendrils danced at the windows – no, just the shadows cast by the moonlight on the trees outside. Wind whistled outside, making the old house creak like old bones. My mouth went dry. This was some crazy bull.

"Hey, Tony." I adjusted my voice to as not to startle him. He barely reacted. "What did you mean earlier? Who's the dark one?"

He was still for so long I was convinced he hadn't heard me. When I was about to ask again, he spoke in a rattling voice like he hadn't used it in twenty years.

"She wanted my soul. She wanted all our souls. Cam..." His eyes jumped to my face. Dried tears caked his eyes and lashes. They stared at me, deep into my soul, making me uneasy. "She's evil. You believe me, right? She won't rest until she gets what she wants. Promise me. Promise me you'll be there for me."

"You're my brother," I replied. He appeared to not hear me, turning to face the fire again.

Just when I was wracking my brain as to what to do with him, he said suddenly, "We have to go."

My stomach did a somersault.

"What—" Before I could say anything more, he leapt to his feet and sprinted to the door. He slammed into it, almost as if expecting it would give way. He pounded on it with his tiny, bony fists, shrieking like a deranged animal. "Tony!"

He stepped back and rammed into it again, wholly ignoring the door knob and the lock still turned. Guttural noises emanated from his throat as if he were possessed by a demon. He screamed when he bounced off the door and landing on his rear, crazed eyes darting all over the place.

"She's coming!" he screeched. My heart lurched when the lock turned by itself. Tony scrabbled backwards on all fours, his face pasty and eyes huge with fear. "Nononononono—"

The door creaked open. A black shadow loomed outside.

"What is going on?" said my girlfriend, shocked.

"Zara!" Relief washed over me in waves. She was okay. Tony shot off like a bullet, barraging past Zara. She squeaked, barely catching her balance. "Tony! No!"

I yanked on my coat from the nearby hanger, shoved my shoes on, and sprinted after him. Zara followed, confused.

"Zara, stay there!"

"No, I'm coming!" she insisted. I bit my lip. A pregnant woman shouldn't be doing anything risky. The air had dropped by several degrees since he'd crossed the threshold into my house. The trees swayed in a gentle breeze, their leaves rustling, whispering secrets between themselves. My brother careered forward, almost tumbling, at a speed almost impossible for one so emaciated. There was no time. I shook my head at her and ran. I just about kept up with Tony even though I'd kept so fit over the years. He used to bully my chubby frame and short, stumpy legs, calling me all the names under the sun. As soon as I was old enough to join the gym, I'd buffed up. But even with all my muscles, every time he darted through a clearing and further into the heart of the woods, I almost miss his disappearing figure. Zara wheezed behind me, struggling. I had to get to him first.

"I'll go on ahead!" I shouted over my shoulder. Pummelling my feet to the ground and sending the yellowed dead leaves flying through the air, I tore between the trees and pushed aside overhanging branches. Tony's terrified gasps got louder and louder.

"Stay away!" His panicked voice resonated in the chilly air. "No! She's coming!"

My mouth dried. I broke into another clearing, snapping the branches obscuring my way. The edge of the field disappeared abruptly into pitch black where it dipped about fifty metres into a canyon. Tony lay on the floor in a heap, his tiny shoulders heaving up and down.

"Tony!" I shouted, kneeling past him. He swatted at me with his long-nailed, filthy hands, before digging his fingers into my shoulders, pulling himself up. I winced. Tears poured down his face. Dirt smeared even more profusely across his features, turning his skin brown and green. His eyes were etched with terror, pupils dilated.

The wind picked up, howling like a demon's choir. Zara wouldn't arrive for several more minutes. Unbeknownst to us, the dark shadows moved forward in the background. I saw them clearer in the open, away from artificial lights. They were a shiny, oily black, ebbing and flowing like the waves of the sea, hovering at the edge of the ground on the precipice. Distorted faces formed on its surface, some forming mouths opened in moans, some crying, every single one of them silent. They morphed into each other, struggling against their shadowy captors that crept ever closer to us. My heart rammed against my ribcage. Sweat stuck my t-shirt to my armpits.

I stood up, clutching his skeletal twelve-year-old form to me, his bony back against my chest. I was the older brother, now. It was my duty to sort this and to be the bigger man, face up to responsibilities. I was the one who started this.

Glowing crimson eyes met mine from the depth of the heavy black mist over the cliff, the tendrils spreading their fingers around us. The eyes burned with an insatiable hunger. A tiny white smile snaked beneath; it looked the same as it did twenty years ago. The summer night gave way to bone-chilling air. My fingers were frozen in flexion around Tony's shaking shoulders. He whimpered.

"Why, Cam?" he said, weeping. "Why are they here?"

"Why?" My voice sounded far away. My hands clamped tight over his bony arms. "Because that was the deal."

He turned to stare at me in disbelief.

"Wh—"

I shoved him forward. He screamed, the force lifting his legs off the ground. I returned him flying straight into the black mist. Those red eyes widened and blinked out of sight. The tendrils encased his tiny body and contracted. His shrieks reached a crescendo and stopped abruptly.

There was a hoarse whisper in the air. Three lives. Three wishes.

The black mist dissipated. With shaking breaths, I slid to my knees, landing on the dirt with trembling limbs. My head was so full it felt about to explode. Blood drummed in my ears. The last traces of Tony's scream echoed, or was it in my head?

"Cameron!"

I became aware of Zara shaking me and calling my name. My eyes fluttered open. Tears dried on my cheeks. Warm summer night air breezed past my face. My girlfriend's beautiful face peered at me in worry.

"What happened?" she said. "Where's Tony?"

I pointed a shaking finger at the cliff side.

"I... I was too late..." My voice broke. She clutched me to her chest. Her heart thumped a steady, calming rhythm against me. She was such a caring, kind girl. It was just like her to jump to Tony's aid. My hand rested on her abdomen. I just about hid my smile.

Three lives. Three wishes.

That was the deal.

A/N: 'The Dark One' is a story from the prompt (paragraphs prior to the asterisks) for 'The Art of Madness' competition ran by @Nyhterides. Word count: 2013.