In Laymon's Terms

He could hear them in there. Those little bastards. They could try to hide, but they wouldn’t get away. Not this time. He was curious about them; if he only knew what they truly were, then maybe he’d have a better chance at getting rid of them once and for all. They had appeared out of nowhere, after that bright flash in the night sky, and had started tormenting him on that very night. He had killed his share of them, too, which had inevitably led him into getting a good look at them. Those large gray-green eyes full of emptiness, those tiny legs and arms, those long rubbery fingers...They all looked the same to him, none much taller than five feet high, all of them as naked as the day they were born. He had no idea how many of those things hid in the woods. He couldn’t even remember how many he’d killed. But no matter how many of them he destroyed, no matter how many of those dead little bodies he’d thrown into that barn, they kept coming back. Nothing would keep them away.

Tonight had been the last straw. He had declared war on the little monsters, whether they knew it or not.

The barn appeared through the darkness. He smiled to himself. They wouldn’t get away. Not this time. Those two little monsters hiding in his barn were as good as dead.

The silence crushed them with its weight. The waiting game had become unbearable for the both of them. Maybe the man had left or gone to sleep? Maybe the coast was clear?

Mark’s questions were quickly answered by the sound of heavy, drunken footsteps nearing the barn. Bradley! He was coming to get them and they had nowhere to run to, nowhere to hide. They were trapped in this horrible place like two caged animals.

Billy must have heard the steps too as his hand squeezed his brother’s and his whole body bolted upward from where he had lain on the floor.

Their eyes met. For a brief second, their fears became one, as though their bodies were linked together by a strange electric current. There was nothing they could do against this man, especially if he had his gun with him. Mark scanned the room around him yet again, hoping that a hiding place would magically unveil itself to him.

The walking stopped. A thick silence quickly enveloped them to the point of strangulation. He could feel the night air thickening all around them. The only thing he could hear now was the sound of their own hearts pulsating in a rhythmic cadence. A sudden wave of dizziness marauded his body, making him realize that he’d been holding back his breath for far too long. He exhaled as silently as he possibly could, a long soft hiss that felt shatteringly loud to him as it sliced through the silence.

“I can hear you in there,” the man’s voice blasted through the rotted wood of the two sliding doors. “I’ll get ya. Oh, this time you’re mine!” The voice was a strange mix of pleasure and anger. Bradley teased them with his laughter. Billy looked at him with terrified eyes that were filled with tears. Mark pressed his index finger against his lips, hoping that his brother wouldn’t give in to crying. Maybe if they kept silent, the man would just turn around and go away.

He slowly hoisted his body upward. Billy grabbed him by the ankle and shot a terrified look up at him. “I’m not going anywhere,” he whispered as softly as he could. His eyes scanned the barn quickly. If there was nowhere to hide, then there had to be something he could use as a weapon against that man. He searched through the darkness as best as he could. He saw nothing but hundreds of those bones scattered amongst the old rotting hay on the ground. There were holes in the walls of the barn, though none of them big enough for either of them to fit through.

More hay, more dirt, more darkness.

And more bones.

There was no way out. No weapons. The only escape route was through those two sliding doors, behind which the man undoubtedly waited for them. If they tried to run past him, he’d kill them for sure.

A loud bang echoed all around them, followed by a deep, hearty laugh. The man kicked at the door again, playing with their fears, trying to torment them as much as he could before he killed them.

Billy’s body shifted on the floor at his feet. His brother’s finger tightened around his ankle, digging deep into his skin.

“Get up.”

“Mark, I—”

“Get up!”

Reluctantly, his brother followed the order and stood on his two shaky legs.

“When the man opens the door, I’ll distract him and you run. Don’t stop running until you get home and tell mom and dad what happened. Tell them to call the police.”

“I can’t, Mark...”

“No time to be a shithead, Billy.” Shithead was the name his brother hated the most, the worst insult anyone could think of calling him. Something sparked in his eyes. For a second or so, his legs stopped wobbling and something resembling bravery illuminated his entire face.

“But he’ll get you!”

“I can take care of myself. You just run as fast as you can. You stop for nothing. Nothing. Understood?”