Seeing creatures come from some other dimension was not Jackie’s idea of a good time. Sam knew she hated films like that, especially when they were the only ones at the theatre. She punched his shoulder as they left and he winced, rubbing the site and mouthing a half-attempted apology, the delight at her fright twinkling behind it. She breathed out the anxiety of the ordeal, most of it, at least, when a cold wind threw dried oak leaves and black flakes over her wool jacket. Some landed in her mouth when she inhaled and she gagged from the dryness, seeming to have absorbed every speckle of moisture she had. It tasted of burning chemicals.
She spat it out as much as she could, saliva hanging from her lips, tainted by the invading substance. Sam handed her his handkerchief and she wiped her tongue and the inside of her cheeks. The urge to scratch her mouth out remained even with all of it gone. Sam was old-school, believed a man had better be prepared for anything. The items she found in his pockets while doing the laundry gave testament to his fervor around that philosophy.
Jackie fished out a flake that had slipped into one of her jacket’s pockets and rubbed it between her fingers. It stained them as it turned into a soft powder. She looked at Sam and frowned, hoping he’d give a perfectly logical explanation without her giving a voice to her fears.
He shrugged and laughed, resting a hand on her shoulder. “It was just a film.” Meeting her scornful stare, his grin sank. He turned his gaze to the town before them. His warm breath steamed in the cold air, floating off to blend into the fog that had descended all around them. It was clear skies earlier, when they went in only an hour ago. And the streets, then still alive with people on their own missions, were now deserted. Not even a dog barked.
“Maybe it’s just the film’s effect messing with our minds, huh?” she said with a chuckle, waving a hand in dismissal. It had to be her mind playing tricks. It was Sunday, after all, everyone was probably at church or something. Quiet times happened when they were the only ones not of the new faith. She stepped forward, starting for home, when another gust of wind tossed the leaves and ash in her face.
“Jax, wait a bit,” Sam said as he pulled her back under the theatre’s roof. “Do you hear that?”
She strained. “Hear what?” He was pushing this scaring nonsense too far. If he wanted a warm bed tonight, he’d better cut the crap.
“That.” He held up a finger. It was barely audible but there, just under the wind. For a few seconds, a low droning echoed somewhere in the distance. Someone’s horn or a generator or something. Jackie had had enough jumps for one day.
She pulled her elbow out of his hand, scoffed, and walked into the fog. “Sounds like an animal. Let’s go see if it needs our help. It could be hurt, Sam.” She’d show him about frights. She’d wait until they neared the narrow alley by their apartment, tell him she’d heard a ruffling and he had to inspect it, then pounce. It already tasted sweet just thinking about that high-pitched scream he’d give off, like when a spider crawled out from under the fridge at 2 a.m one night.
He ran after her. “Jax, wait.”
Turning around and hiding the grin she felt warming her cheeks, she reached out to grab his hand and make sure he followed but he wasn’t there. “Sam?” The fog had thickened quickly and she couldn’t see more than a few feet away. “Sam, talk to me?” The sound returned, louder. She searched for landmarks, anything to show where she was. Nothing was familiar.
Again the low drone resounded, its vibrations echoing in her chest. The ground trembled and she faltered, stumbling toward the street lamp beside her. Its bulb still shone but the light suffocated in the fog. It wasn’t a prank anymore.
“Hello?” she called. A strong gust of wind blew against her, bringing a faint rotten-egg smell to her nostrils. She held up her jacket’s collar to cover her neck from the cold and turned her back to it. Ahead, several dark grey figures moved, coming right for her, spikes and tentacles sticking up from their backs. Dull yellow eyes shone through the fog, growing brighter the closer they came.
She had seen these things before, not in the film, but elsewhere. She wracked her brain trying to remember, the familiarity of them etching a deep fear into her belly. Without willing to, she shoved a hand into her jacket pocket and clutched at the rosary her grandmother had given her, the one she carried with her whenever she left the house. Not for any religious reason, only for its sentimental value. The last gift Nanna had given.
Then it clicked and her lungs, seeming to respond to her terror, halted their breathing. Those fiends were from the new faith posters all over town, depicting the great evil they believed and warned everyone, to the point of harassment, about what would happen if they didn’t repent.
But this couldn’t be. It was just a film and those were just artworks, a flight of fancy someone—however deranged—had thought up in their untidy study room one dark and stormy night. There was no way those creatures were real, no matter how charismatic the person inventing it was. She stepped back, hugging a street lamp behind her. She looked over her shoulder and saw more monsters approaching. They had her surrounded. She sunk to her knees, pulling out her grandmother’s rosary from her jacket’s pocket.
Not that she had believed in the old faith much before, but perhaps now... it was as good a time as any to go all in and submit. She clutched the beads, counting them as she repeated the prayers she was taught, but her mind couldn’t focus.
One bead. It was the end of the world. What had they done to Sam?
Two. What would they do to her? This wasn’t how it was supposed to go.
Three. Dear God, where did these things come from?
Four…
A boot landed on the ground in front of her, making her jump and screech. She wrapped the rosary around her hand, clutching the crucifix attached to it. She couldn’t lose it, her last symbol of strength.
Five. Lord, give strength.
A hand grabbed her wrist and she shrieked louder, driving the crucifix into the monster’s flesh. It screamed and writhed as it retreated. She pulled her hand to her chest and stared at the rosary, wanting but fighting against the temptation to shut her eyes and hope it all went away. Red liquid stained the wood. She wasn’t the type of person to fight. Her legs begged to run but her muscles refused to lock to get her standing.
Some of the other creatures rushed to the wounded one and Jackie kicked at the tarmac as fast as she could, shuffling herself back and away as far as possible. With them distracted, now was her chance to escape. Hands grabbed her arms as she rose to her feet against her will.
She ripped herself free from their grasp, knocking her elbow against a monster’s head. The impact sent jolts up and down her arm. With each attempt to free herself, their grip tightened.
“Let go of me. Please, I don’t want to die.” Tears streamed down, burning her cheeks.
“Jax?” One of the monsters walked up to her. It knew her name. “I’ve been looking everywhere for you.” Its voice sounded like Sam.
She relaxed her arms and looked up. Wind swept past, clearing some of the thick fog. He was no monster. A gas mask covered his mouth and nose but those eyes were unmistakable. With a gloved hand, he caressed her cheek.
Jackie tried to get closer but the others held her back. “Sam?”
The monster she had attacked sat on the street behind him, blood soaking through a bandage around its arm. The others huddled around it stared at her. He was only a man.
“What’s going on?” she asked.
“There’s been a volcanic eruption.” Sam sighed as he handed her a mask. “This is the evacuation team.” He gestured to the figures around them. The people holding her let go and she dropped to the ground.
She stared at her bloodied hand then up at the man she attacked, and reached out to him. “I’m so sorry. I-I thought…” She looked at Sam and the others. “There were monsters, Sam!”
“Monsters?” Sam’s brows furrowed as he turned his gaze to a man beside her, who shrugged his reply. The tubes and tools attached to his backpack shook with the movement. Bending his knee, Sam lowered to her level and removed his yellow-tinted goggles. “There aren’t any, Jax. There’s a lot of fumes in the air so you might be hallucinating.”
It was all in her head? But she hurt someone. Someone who tried to help her. She clawed at the rosary, ripping it from around her hand, and threw it to the sidewalk. Mind tricks this entire time. What good the old faith had done for her so far. “But, how come you’re alright?”
“I didn’t get a mouth-load of the stuff.” He giggled, pulling out his handkerchief.
Jackie forced a smile, for his sake, so he’d think she was okay. “Sam,” she whispered between the spasms starting and tears filling her vision. She looked at the man she had attacked. “Sam, I…”
“It’s okay, Jax. It’s not your fault and he’ll be fine.” He pulled her closer and wrapped his arms around her.
Of course it wasn’t. That film caused this and the volcano made it worse. No, it wasn’t her fault. Not entirely. What were they thinking, grabbing her without saying anything? The tears were more from the frustration of having been forced into this situation that from fear now.
She rested her chin on Sam’s shoulder and peered over it until her nerves calmed, watching the fog roll and swirl as the wind cut through it. Another flake of ash settled on her nose and she lowered her head, watching it fall onto Sam’s plastic windbreaker. The black of it made it look like it had dissolved or absorbed into the fabric. She sighed away the last of the anxiety, though her legs still felt like they had never held her weight before. Sam helped her to her feet, holding her waist to steady her.
The fog still hung heavy over the town but the theatre was now somewhat visible. She hadn’t gone too far from it at all. From under its roof, two yellow eyes shone through the fog before disappearing into the building.
Jackie shut her eyes, shook her head, and whispered, “Only a hallucination.”