You knew I was coming for you little one,
when the kettle jumped into the fire.
Louise Erdrich, Windigo
“Is there a problem, my boy?” the man asked the spooked Spencer. Glen rushed over, tripping on an old tire hidden in the weeds. This minor collision sent him tumbling forward toward Spencer. He scrambled to his feet and joined Spencer at the corner of the house.
“It’s looking at me.” Spencer pointed a trembling finger toward the front corner. “The thing. It’s looking right at me.”
Glen peered into the dark, brushy alley separating this house from its neighbor. At the other end, a shadowy figure stared back at them with a pair of glowing yellow eyes. The silhouette remained motionless, its shoulders moving up and down with each deep breath it took.
“What the hell is that?” Spencer whispered. “Is that what attacked Denise? Is it going to attack us?”
“Come look at this,” Glen said to the man, but he was gone. No longer was he at the kitchen window awaiting the stone he requested Spencer fetch. The man wearing a cardigan with a satchel over his shoulder was gone. “That son of a bitch ditched us.”
“What?” Spencer whimpered. “We gotta get outta here.”
Glen locked eyes with whatever it was. “Don’t move yet, Spencer. Stay put.”
A flash of powder blue light lit up the front yard behind the creature, startling it. A blast of some kind hit the side of the adjacent house, sparks flying.
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