The Others

A storm keeps Kathy's family inside for the night.

Then her husband goes out to the barn and comes back wrong.

And somewhere down the hall, the children's show keeps playing.

Written and narrated by Michael G. Moyer

Transcript

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The skin in her hands was raw and open in spots. Her gaze lingered until she caught herself. She glanced out the kitchen window and saw the barn that sat right up against the tree line. The porch light barely saved it from the darkness of the woods. The trees heaved from a violent wind, and the rain came in sideways needles as it had all night. The sky pulsed white before it went dark again. She turned around and saw only the mess of the living room that still needed cleaning. She threw the dish rag on the counter and walked toward the living room. Okay, she said. The back door opened and slammed behind her. Her young son Harrison jumped at the sound. She winced. Harrison went back to watching the television with his sister Julie. Kathy walked by, tussled his hair, and picked up the first of several toys scattered across the living room floor. As she cleaned, she felt something loosen in her chest. She knew Pat had a tough week at work. She could see it in his face some days when he came home. That he just didn't have it in him to take on the rest of the world. But still, that didn't give him the right to shirk his responsibilities at home. The heat rose through her chest again. She took a long breath in through her nose. When she let it out, her anger thinned. She realized then that Pat hadn't come back inside yet. She walked out of the living room and crossed the kitchen to the window above the sink. She peered out, and the barn stood against the dark and the storm as it had all night. The light inside wasn't on. She stepped away from the window and grabbed the wipe from the counter. She started wiping down the table. After a minute, the back door creaked open. Pat walked in. He was soaking wet, and something about his gaze was off. His eyes were wide, and they glanced around the kitchen as if he didn't recognize his own home. What were you doing out there? Kathy asked. Pat's head jerked. Their eyes met, checking the smoker. She stared at him, then went back to wiping the table. He didn't move. His body was rigid. Kathy kept cleaning and forced herself not to look up. Out of the corner of her eye she saw something that turned her blood to ice. When Pat blinked, it sounded wet, and he blinked sideways. Her hand froze on the table. The streaks of liquid sank into the wood beneath. She turned her head slowly. Pat stood there, looking around the kitchen. She shook her head and went back to wiping the table. She told herself she imagined it. Then he crossed the kitchen into the living room where the kids were watching television. She threw the wipe down on the table and trailed him. Pat entered the living room and sat in his chair. Alright, kids, time for bed, Kathy said, rushing in. Harrison and Julie both groaned. Come on, mom. The episode is almost over, Julie said. She looked up at her mother and pleaded with her big green eyes. Bed, Kathy said, pointing down the hall. Julie rolled her eyes and slowly dragged herself off the couch. Harrison followed her down the hall. Pat sat in his chair, staring forward at the children's show, still playing on the television. Are you gonna change the channel or watch Spongebob SquarePants all night? Kathy asked, smiling at him. She picked up the remote and held it out to him. He didn't take it. He turned his gaze on her. vacancy behind his eyes. Yes, he said. Kathy stared at him a moment, and the skin on the back of her neck became tight. She rolled her eyes and dropped the remote on the arm of the chair and walked off. Kathy grabbed a broom and swept the floor of the kitchen. She could still hear the cartoon playing in the other room. She swept the floor in front of the sink and looked out the window. The woods at the edge of their yard were black. Red maple and eastern hemlock trees stood at the tree line, and white pines poked through the canopy beyond. Overgrown deer paths carved through the trees and disappeared behind backyards. The town itself was carved into the mountainside, and the forest that lined it sat as it had since before the first stone was laid. A strong wind carried across the mountainside and the trees bent under it. Kathy could hear the rain pelting the deck outside. The barn sat in full dark, only the barn door illuminated by the soft yellow glow of the porch light. It looked the same as it did any other night. Yet Kathy found herself moving across the kitchen to the back door without thinking. She wrapped her hand around the doorknob. She hesitated. She turned the knob and the door creaked open. She listened to the wind howl and the rain hit the deck. Then she stepped out into the storm. She stared out at the barn. Her hair became wet and matted, and her soaked clothes stuck to her skin underneath. Her vision slowly darkened around the edges until all she could see was the barn. She walked down the steps until she stood in the yard. Her eyes were locked on the barn as she crossed the yard. When she made it about halfway across the yard, she stopped. She looked around, confused. The barn stood in the darkness before her. She had lived in this house, walked this yard for nine years, and never saw the barn as she did now. The darkness around it seemed fastened to it. A gust of wind moved across her face, and her soaked hair didn't react to it. She turned around, a breath caught in her throat. Pat's face hovered in the kitchen window, staring out at her. He watched her with the calm indifference of an animal behind glass. The next gust of wind made her body tremble. Still, she wouldn't walk back to the house. She couldn't take her eyes off Pat. And he retreated from the window. Still she stood frozen, a tightness forming in her chest and creeping outward. She stood in the cold and the rain for a long time before she took one small step forward. Then another. Then another. She reached the stairs to the deck and put her shaking hand on the rail. She braced herself as she climbed. She crossed the deck and grabbed the doorknob. She held it and the tips of her fingers went pale. Rain needled the back of her neck and carried down the back of her shirt. She pushed the door open. Pat wasn't there. She stood just inside the back door without moving. Rain water fell from her in bunches and puddled around her feet. She could hear Spongebob SquarePants playing in the living room. She walked across the kitchen and left a trail of water behind her. Pat sat in his chair, staring at the television as if he never left. She watched him for a while. He didn't acknowledge her. She walked off down the hall to their bedroom. She turned into the bedroom and saw her own reflection in the window as she walked in. The dark pressed against the glass. She grabbed two towels from the closet, laid out her nightclothes on the bed, and walked into the master bathroom. She turned the shower on and held her hand under the water until it was warm. She stepped in and stood under the hot water, letting it hit the back of her neck and run down her back. The hot water drove the cold from her bones. She massaged shampoo through her hair and into her scalp. It ran down her face and she shut her eyes. She stuck her head in the water and began rinsing the shampoo out. As the seconds ticked by, her breathing became rapid. She felt her pulse jump and she scrubbed at her face to wash the soap away. And she pulled her face from the water and opened her eyes. Nothing there. She laughed at herself. She finished showering and turned the water off and wrapped a towel around her midsection. She wrapped her hair up in another towel and walked into the bedroom. She walked over to the clothes in the bed. At the corner of her vision, she saw something move, then disappear at the upper corner of her bedroom window. When she turned her head, it was gone. But her gaze lingered. The cold seeped beneath her damp skin, and she turned away from the window. Her eyes kept flicking toward it as she dressed herself. When she walked out into the hallway, she peered down the hall and saw Pat unmoved. SpongeBob square pants echoed down the hall. She sat down on the couch in the living room, and Pat didn't notice. Do you want to watch something? Kathy asked. Pat didn't respond. Kathy leaned forward. Hello? Pat turned his head, but his eyes didn't move. They stared ahead and only met Kathy's gaze when his head turned. He stared at her as if waiting for her to speak again. Pat, are you alright? She asked. I'm fine. His head turned back toward the television. Then what's your problem? She asked. Pat didn't answer. Kathy huffed and stood from the couch. She marched down the hall and into the bedroom. She dropped onto the bed and slipped under the covers. She lay there staring at the ceiling when something clinked against the bedroom window. She looked over. Nothing there. She hopped off the bed, walked over to the window, grabbed the curtains, and swung them shut. She dropped back onto the bed and slid under the covers again. She turned on her side and let out a breath through her nose. She reached over and turned the nightstand light off, and the room went dark. The bedroom door was ajar, and a small shaft of white light filtered in and died quickly. The sound of Spongebob's laughter drifted down the hall. She closed her eyes and the sound eventually faded. Her eyes opened and saw only black. When they adjusted, a shape stood at the edge of her bed. Her eyes traced the shape upward, and pale moonlight illuminated the side of Pat's face. His features were still. She tried to scream, or thought she did. Her eyes closed against her will, and sleep came down on her like a hand. She woke again, and when she turned over, the other side of the bed was untouched. The curtains above the bedroom window were drawn back. The house was dark, and only a pale sliver of moonlight filtering in through the window saved her from total darkness. The bedroom door was still open. SpongeBob SquarePants still played down the hall. She stared up at the ceiling and waited for her body to succumb to sleep again. Then the sound of something hitting the roof made her pick her head up. Something hit it, and she listened as it rolled off the roof. She lay there, staring up at the ceiling. She tried to move, but her body resisted. Then she grabbed the covers and tossed them aside. She swung her legs off the bed and when her feet hit the carpet, they were wet. She looked down. The carpet next to the bed was soaked. She told herself she must have gotten it wet after the shower. But she knew she dried off before she left the bathroom. She walked into the hall. She stood there and let her eyes adjust to the absence of moonlight. The sound of Spongebob's laughter came from the living room. Harrison's bedroom door was open. She stuck her head in the doorway. The covers on his bed were thrown aside and the room was empty. She backed into the hallway and noticed something standing at the other end. Pat. He stood at the threshold between the living room and the hall, shrouded in darkness. He held something in his hand. Kathy squinted, but couldn't see what it was. Pat, she called. He didn't answer. She stepped closer. Pat, what are you doing? The shape in his hand resolved. Kathy stopped. Her breath caught in her throat. A hatchet. She backed up slowly. Don't go in Jolie's room. They aren't ready, he said, his voice flat. She turned and shouldered Jolie's bedroom door. The door swung open, and the curtains in her bedroom billowed from the wind through the open window. Rain pattered on the window trim and trickled down the inside wall. A dark spot on the carpet sat beneath the window. The comforter was tangled and hung off the edge of the bed. Kathy screamed and ran to the window. She looked around, and the rain fell, and long silver cords, and the wind howled, and the trees bent, small branches giving way and flying from the canopy, and she screamed, and her voice was ripped away by the wind, and she spun around and her back hit the wall and it slid down until she felt the cold, wet carpet beneath her. Pat loomed in the doorway, hatchet in hand. Where is Julie? she cried. Pat didn't answer. She screamed again. Nothing. She struggled to her feet, nearly falling against the wall again. I told you they weren't ready, Pat said, but his voice wasn't his own. What did you do to my daughter? Kathy asked, beginning to sob. Pat moved forward, his hand tightened around the hatchet handle. Kathy sprang forward and hit Pat hard between the legs. He flinched, but only slightly. It gave Kathy just enough time to escape. She sprinted out of the room and heard the hatchet swing and find only air behind her. She ran down the hallway and looked for a place to hide. The first thing she saw was the television that stood on top of a media center. She ducked behind it as Pat emerged from Julie's bedroom. The children's show played on as footsteps grew louder down the hall. Then they stopped. Kathy peeked through the gap between the television and the media center. In the glow of the television, she saw Pat standing in the center of the living room, soaked to the bone. She covered her mouth with her hand and squeezed her eyes shut, her heart pounding against her ribs. Come out, Kathy, Pat said. She opened her eyes. She peered through the gap. Pat's eyes found her gaze. She rose slowly. What did you do to my children? She asked. Pat didn't speak. His eyes flicked toward the kitchen window, then back to Kathy. She knew then where her children were. She tried to move, but her legs froze beneath her. Then she bolted from behind the television and hit the back door. She raced out onto the deck. The wind roared, and the rain pelted her as she ran toward the stairs. Her feet slipped out from under. Her back slammed against the stairs and she slid until she hit the ground. For a moment, she stared up at the starless weeping sky and saw low dark clouds gliding across it. Then she got her legs under and ran across the yard. The barn loomed in the darkness. It seemed larger now as the trees bowed in the wind. She stopped. She stared at the door to the barn. It was black inside. Her temples pounded and the ground beneath her felt unsteady. She stepped back. She bumped into something. Pat stood in front of her. The hatchet hung on his side loosely, as if he'd forgotten to put it down. His eyes stared in her direction, but his gaze passed through her. Something crashed into the side of Kathy's head before she could react. The world spun, her back hit the ground hard, and her vision wavered. Before she realized what happened, hands tightened around her ankles. They dragged her across the yard toward the barn. Lightning pulsed in the sky above, and the barn flashed behind Pat before disappearing into void again. She thrashed on the ground until she managed to get one leg free. She kicked Pat hard in the face and he dropped her other leg. She scrambled to her feet and sprinted for the back door. She closed it behind her and locked it. She backed up. Pat's face emerged and peered in through the glass. Kathy screamed and ran. A thought rose. Her phone. She ran toward her bedroom, and something crashed into the back door. She heard the sound of wood splintering as she crossed the threshold into the bedroom. She grabbed her phone from her nightstand and ran into the hall. Her stomach dropped when she saw the SOS symbol at the top right of her screen. Pat hacked against the door, over and over and over again with the hatchet outside. Each time the door gave a little more. Kathy ducked into Harrison's room and opened his closet. She stopped when she saw him huddled in the corner. He shrank against the wall when he looked up at her. She lowered herself next to him, closed the closet door, and wrapped her arms around him. Harrison tucked his face against her chest, and she held a trembling hand over the side of his head and pulled it close. The sound of the door crashing open boomed through the house. Then it was quiet save for the sound of the rain pounding the window and the howling wind. The floor creaked somewhere down the hallway. Then it creaked again. Closer. Footsteps. Then nothing. Kathy peered through the slits of the closet door and tucked herself and Harrison behind the clothes that hung in the closet. A shape crossed the threshold into the room. It hesitated a moment before walking over to the closet door. It stood completely still. Kathy held her breath and a hand over Harrison's mouth. SpongeBob's laughter carried down the hall from the living room. The shape lowered itself until Pat's eyes peered through the slits of the door. They stared directly at Kathy. The closet doors swung open, and Pat was there, and he grabbed Kathy, and the sound of her and Harrison's screams pierced the air, and Pat wrapped his hands around her legs and he dragged her out of the closet, and her fingers dug into the carpet, scraping for purchase, but found none, and Harrison watched as his mother was dragged into the hallway. She screamed. The carpet burned her skin as Pat dragged her down the hallway. He stopped in the living room. Kathy buried her face in the carpet and sobbed. Cartoon laughter came from the television as the hatchet came down on the back of Kathy's head. She went quiet. The hatchet dangled from Pat's hand at his side. Blood covered the head and stained the carpet. He dropped the hatchet and walked down the hall. He emerged from the room holding Harrison over his shoulder. Harrison didn't cry. He looked once at his mother as Pat carried him past. When he opened the back door, voices rose through the rain, thin and distant and numberless. Then the back door slammed shut and the house went quiet. Outside the rain kept on, and the trees bent in the wind. What waited for them out there had waited long, and the time for waiting was done. Inside, the show on the television had paused and gone gray, with only a single question written across the screen. Are you still there? Thanks for listening to Watch the Dark. If you enjoyed tonight's story, follow the show wherever you listen to podcasts. Until next time. Keep the fire lit.