The New Neighbor

darkness.

He listened closely for any sounds and when he heard nothing, he took the flashlight in hand, turned it on and lifted the pen. He paused, took a deep breath which he let out slowly, then began to write as fast as he could.

* * * *

Jen and Pastor Quillerman watched the darting flashlight beam in the master bedroom as George pulled out a dresser drawer, shuffled through its contents, slammed it, then opened another. He finally returned with a key, which he slipped into the guest room lock and turned. He pushed the door open, calling, 'Karen? Hon?' and shined the flashlight into the room.

The window was open and the room was empty.

Karen was gone.

'Oh, god,' Quillerman whispered.

* * * *

Robby's hand raced through the letters of the last angel's name as his heart beat faster and his throat grew tight. The instant he finished the last name, his hand swept quickly around all three, enclosing them in a circle as -

– a sound erupted from inside the house that was worse than anything Robby had ever heard, a screaming sound more monstrous and inhuman than he thought possible, and it grew louder and louder, impossibly loud, until -

– every window in Lorelle's house exploded outward and shards of broken glass cascaded over the lawn and sidewalk.

* * * *

George and Jen and Pastor Quillerman stood frozen in the doorway of the guest room, their eyes wide as they listened to the horrible sound from across the street. George broke away from them muttering, 'Karen, oh my god, Karen,' and ran down the hall.

* * * *

Robby staggered backward down the porch steps and the flashlight beam swept over Lorelle's marked door as it bulged outward until it splintered in the middle, and -

– the sound only grew louder, until Robby could feel it slicing through his bones as he ran across the lawn, glass crunching under his feet, until a familiar voice shouted -

– 'Robby!'

The voice caught him so completely by surprise that his legs failed him and he tumbled to the ground, rolling over jagged pieces of glass that cut through his clothes and skin. He rolled over, sat up, faced the house and aimed the flashlight in the direction of the voice, hoping it was not the voice he thought he’d heard.

The beam fell on his mother. She stood on the other side of a broken rectangular window a few feet to the left of the front door. She was naked and her skin was an unhealthy white in the flashlight's beam. Shadow figures moved behind her in the dark.

“Robby!' she shouted. 'What have you done, Robby?'

'M-Muh-Mom?'

The mind-numbing scream continued.

'Damn you, Robby, damn you!' she shouted, her arms stiff at her sides, fists clenched, her whole body trembling. Her breasts swayed as she shouted at him.

Robby scrambled to his feet, ignoring his cuts, and began to walk backward as he screamed at her, 'What are you doing in there!'

'You'll pay for this, you little bastard, you'll pay!' The hatred in her face was so intense that it sickened Robby.

The horrible sound stopped.

The shadowy figures behind his mom moved away, then even she disappeared into the darkness as Lorelle Dupree's thick, distorted voice said, 'That wasn't very nice, Raaww-beeee.'

He lowered the flashlight because he didn't want to see it, not again, but even without light, he could see those eyes shimmering in the darkness and he turned and ran across the sidewalk and into the street, dropping the flashlight along the way, but moving ahead blindly, anyway. Getting away from that house and what he knew was inside was more important than the flashlight.

“Eat you, Raaaww-beeee!' the Lorelle-creature roared. 'I'm going to eat you alive!'

He tried to listen only to his breathing and his dangerously rapid heartbeat as he ran across the street, trying to ignore the creature's voice, but -

– there was another figure moving toward him in the dark and Robby felt panic closing his throat and he was about to scream when -

– his dad turned on his flashlight and said, 'Robby, you okay?'

'Yuh-yeah.' He took a moment to catch his breath as his dad put an arm around him to hold him up. 'Mom's over there, Dad, sh-she's in the house… with that thuh-thing.'

George looked at Lorelle's house and said with almost childlike helplessness, 'What're we gonna do, Robby? What're we gonna do to get her back?'

'I, uh… I don't think she wants to come back, Dad.'

'Oh, god. What… what have we done?'

They embraced and stood there at the edge of the street until Pastor Quillerman came out and let them back into the house.

* * * *

Alana Carson said 'What the hell was that?'

'I don't know,' Will replied softly, “but it didn’t sound fun.”

They'd been sitting in the car debating whether or not to get a bite to eat and find a restroom when it happened. Now their hunger and bladders were forgotten.

'Look,' Will said, 'if you wanna stay here and do some kind of report on this – whatever this is – that's fine, but I want out, okay? I'm just gonna quietly back out of this one. You can keep the car if you want and I'll walk into town from here.'

''I need you Will.'

'No you don't. Keep the camera, too. It's easy to use.'

'You'll lose your job.'

'Fine. Let 'em fire me. There's some really weird shit going on here and I don't want to look into it any more than we have. Whatever made that sound is not friendly, and it's in that house right over there.'

“I don't understand why no one is calling the police,' Alana said, looking around at the other houses.

'Because there's something wrong with this whole fucking neighborhood. Something's not right about this place, about these people. Can’t you feel it?”

Alana turned toward him in the seat. 'In that case, this story could really do something for us.”

'Like what? Get us killed?'

'No, I mean for our reputations, our careers. Look around. You see any other reporters here? Nope. We’re it.