T⃨u⃨r⃨n⃨ O⃨n⃨ T⃨h⃨e⃨ N⃨i⃨g⃨h⃨t⃨ | The Lost Boys

C⃨H⃨A⃨P⃨T⃨E⃨R⃨ T⃨H⃨R⃨E⃨E⃨

"Boo!"

My next movements came reflexively. Arm slicing through the air, I slashed the sharp side of my keys in the yell's direction. There was a brief moment of fleshy resistance that signaled my success. Wet hair slapping into my face, I wasn't able to see whatever the hell had snuck up on me, but I did hear a suspicious grunt of surprise.

"That was a good one, babe," the voice of my assailant jeered as I continued to try and slap the hair out of my face to get a good look at him, "You're fun."

Ire bristling through me at his taunts, I pushed the dripping strands of hair out of my face, only to freeze.

There was nothing there.

My arm remained extended into the air, but whatever I'd hit had vacated. As I gaped into the open air, the giggling from earlier started again. I lowered my arm, keeping my keys tucked tight in my fist incase they decided to make another emergence. As their laughter continued, my fear steadily built into rage.

"Fucking wonderful," I spat even as I edged toward the driver side door. Laddie had to be awake by now and even if he wasn't, I was planning on grabbing a more sufficient weapon, "You getting off on this or something?"

Again, there wasn't a verbal response. Just an uptick in the sound of their glee. The lack of acknowledgement made my hair stand on end, but I kept my eyes focused on the empty lot even as I unlocked the driver side door. I didn't dare try to get in, scared that if I turned my back, they'd be there ready to grab me.

Instead, I gradually bent at the waist and reached under the front passenger seat. The feel of cold metal was a welcomed relieve and my fingers latched around the wooden handle immediately. With my new weapon of choice in my grip, I straightened back up in an attempt to hide my mounting fear.

Leveling the pistol into the empty air, I swallowed, "I'll shoot— I swear."

"You're adorable," the voice from earlier cooed, but something about it felt off. I wasn't hearing it, it was more like I was feeling it. There was no echo, "Isn't she?"

"Nah, she's scared," a new voice spoke, more subdued than its counterpart, "Are we scary?"

"I don't know, are we scary?" The familiar voice jeered, "Maybe she's just not used to us."

The new voice giggled, and I scowled. So that was the gigglier, "Not yet."

"Don't worry," this time I swore you heard the voice behind me and I spun around, only to catch the barest hit of a dry breath on the curve of my neck, "We don't bite."

i prepared to snarl something at the two menaces surrounding me, ready to go down in a flash of bloody glory, when my breath caught in my lungs. Cold fingers crawled over my still damp arms, tracing a path toward my collarbones before wrapping gently around the lower curve of my neck. I couldn't move— there was no one there—

"Don't be scared of us," the sniggering voice hummed another little laugh as nimble fingers tightened around my throat, "You're safe here."

His companion responded as a new sensation grew of fingers threading through my hair, "We just want to get to know you better, babe," the fingers tightened, forcing my head back without my command, "Right?"

The other man agreed, even as his sharp nails skipped down my throat in a soft tease, "We won't hurt you," one finger dipped into the hollow of my throat before he squeezed again, nails indenting into the soft skin, "You're part of the family."

"We just want to play with you," a soft gust of air ghosted over my  lips, "Just have a little taste—"

"...mommy?"

I came back into consciousness with a cough, hands involuntarily wrapping around my throat, "Jesus Christ!" My hand fell to my chest and I swung my gaze to the boy beside me, "God. You scared me, Laddie."

I didn't want to admit it to myself that that wasn't the only thing that scared me. That dream... it had been something I hadn't experienced before. It almost felt real. Unconsciously, I squinted out of the truck's front window, the sun burning into my still sensitive retinas. I warily lifted a hand to my hair, sighing in an odd mix of relief and terror to discover it still dry.

God, I will never sleep again if that's what awaited me.

When I managed to look back at him, my son was repentant, his little brown eyes wide at my panic, "Sorry, I didn't mean to? Uhm, I was just gonna ask if we could go get breakfast."

"Christ," I mumbled again, dragging a sweaty hand down my face. I squeezed my eyes shut one last time before pasting a grin over my features, "Yeah, we can do breakfast. I gotta pee anyway. You want pancakes or something?"

"Pancakes and bacon," Laddie said decisively, shaking off my weird mood with an ease only children possessed, "Then we can go to the beach before your interview!"

I nodded along, head still not entirely in the conversation, but unwilling to continue thinking about my strange dream. I didn't want to imagine those voices again, feel their touch— no. Fisting my hand on the car's door handle, I took one last shaky breath before forcing all the fear out of my system, one molecule at a time.

"Come on, mom!" Laddie jumped around the front of the van, pulling his tennis shoe on as he hobbled toward me, "I'm starving!"

I could only offer him an unsteady smile as I locked the van behind me, eyes roving over the now full parking lot. The memory of hands gliding over my throat almost made me stumble, but Laddie latched onto my hand in determination and began to tug. I didn't spare another glance behind me.

It was a critical mistake.

Because of it I failed to notice the way the hood of my truck wasn't properly closed or the metal indentations that looked suspiciously like hands.