"Open up!"
That sharp, booming voice was unmistakable. Storm's eyes darted to Ari and Willow.
"Who is that?" Willow said quietly.
Storm swallowed hard. "It's my dad."
Ari and Willow both glanced at him, searching his face, then looked at each other. In his periphery, Storm saw Lee and Chris's eyes were wide.
"I know he's there!" the voice came again, with three bangs shaking the door.
Ari raised a pacifying hand, looking over all of them, their gaze steady. "It's all right. It's all right." Ari looked at Storm. "Storm," their gaze shifted towards the kitchen, "stay out of sight. I'll take care of this."
Storm took in a breath and held it. "You're not gonna..."
Ari shook their head, holding their gaze. "No."
As Storm stood up, sneaking behind the wall of the kitchen, Ari and Willow proceeded to the door. Before they both reached it, Chris and Lee hurried to the kitchen. Lee stood next to Storm, clutching his arm, and Chris crouched in front of him, peeking around the edge of the wall, but not blocking his view. Storm had to admit, he felt better with the two of them close by.
Before Ari opened the door, Willow at their side, Ari cast a quick glance towards the kitchen. Nodding once at Storm, they opened the door.
"Good evening." Ari's smooth voice carried across the foyer. Storm couldn't see the figure on the other side. "Can I help you?"
A pause cut the space. Storm couldn't breathe.
"I know he's 'ere."
Storm knew immediately his dad was into the bottle—the only question was the depth. "He's drunk," he whispered.
"It's gonna be okay," Lee whispered back. Her grip on his arm tightened.
"I don't know who you are," Ari continued "or what you're doing at my house, but it's much too late—"
"You have my son."
Another pause.
Storm watched Ari's back straighten.
"I don't even know who you are," Ari replied. Their voice got slower, deeper. "But I don't appreciate late visitors. I want you to leave. Now."
"I'm not leaving without my kid, you fucking freak."
"This is private property," Willow cut in, her voice calm and commanding, "if you have some sort of problem, you'll have to come back in the morning. Then we'd be happy to talk."
"Who the fuck are you?"
"I'm Willow Clayton. What's your name?"
"Keith. Vandersen. My son is Storm Vandersen."
Storm bit his lip. He sounded deceptively calm. He often did. Before his mood changed again.
"He ran away. And I know he came here," Keith went on.
Ari shook their head. "I'm sorry to hear that. I am. But I don't know that name."
"Bullshit. I know he came here. And I'm not leaving without him."
The moment drew out between them.
Storm tried to take a step, but Chris planted a flat hand in his chest. "Don't even think about it."
"You're leaving one way or another." Ari's voice got dark. "You decide in what condition you leave."
"Ari," Willow said quietly.
"Was that a threat?" Keith shot back.
"Get off my property," Ari said. "I won't ask again."
"Or what?"
No one moved. No one spoke.
"I come back here and I come with the cops," Keith said at last.
Pulling out of Lee's grip, Storm dodged around Chris and strode towards the foyer.
"Storm!" Lee hissed, trying to grab him back, but Storm pulled away.
"What are you—!" Chris attempted, but it was too late.
"Dad." Storm took a breath, coming to a stop three steps behind Ari and Willow, and looking his haggard father in the face. Gray and dark-brown stubble crept around his hollow cheeks and square chin. His blue-gray eyes were small, reddened and angry in his dark, sunken sockets. His eyes widened for a moment when he saw his son. Then his thick eyebrows sank, his eyes narrowing.
Keith's lips pulled back over yellowed teeth. "Get over here."
Taking a breath, steeling his nerves, Storm started forward. No one else is gonna suffer cause of me. No one else is gonna get dragged out of our home.
Ari glanced once, then looked back at Keith. Still two steps in front of Storm, Ari held out a barring hand. "No. He's not coming with you."
Storm's heart thundered in his chest. Keith's eyebrows flared up, his grimacing scowl growing darker. "What?" he said through his teeth.
"I said no." Ari's voice dropped into menace. "Your son came here with a blackened eye and a split lip, thanks to you. That will not continue. And he is not coming with you."
"If you think I'm letting my son stay with some—"
"You'll have to go," Willow said sternly.
Storm watched from the foyer, holding his breath.
"That's it?" Keith declared. His narrowed eyes shifted between Willow and Ari. "You kidnap my son and—"
"You beat your son." Ari's voice rose. "I don't give a damn what you think or what you want."
Storm watched Keith's eyes narrow and his scowl deepen, looking first at Willow and then at Ari. His lips curled and his fist pulled back and flew towards Ari. Storm gasped, reaching out, but too far to help. Ari shifted deftly to the left and the hit sailed over their shoulder. With a deep growl, not remotely human, Ari pulled back a hand and their own strike sprung forth. Storm saw only a glimpse as Ari turned, but it was enough to see a nightmarish countenance; red eyes, dark, sunken sockets, a fanged mouth.
Ari's open-handed strike cut across Keith's face and sent him reeling, throwing his back against the open door. He doubled over, crying out through his teeth. Storm took another step, the lunge in his heart almost pulling him off his feet. He didn't understand it. He didn't want to care about the angry-faced, beady-eyed man that was, somehow, his dad—but he did.
Keith straightened, holding his face. His hand slowly pulled away, revealing four, deep, bleeding cuts across his face. Blood beaded and dropped like teardrops down his nose, cheeks, brow and forehead. Dabbing his face, Keith looked down at a reddened handprint. Pain and shock filled his face, a face in his father Storm had never seen.
"What the, what the fu—what the fuck?!" Keith cried, pressing a bloodied hand to his face again.
"Get out!" Ari roared.
Storm started back, almost cowering under the feral snarl in Ari's voice.
Ari raised another hand, their nails now thick, curling black claws, about to strike Keith again.
"Ari, no!" Willow grabbed their arm at the apex of their strike, pulling them back. With both her hands on their arm, she pulled them two steps with surprising force.
"Get out of my house!" Ari snarled. "Stay—away—from my—kids!"
Keith turned and ran, his rapid steps retreating from the open doorway and into the night. Backed against the wall, Storm watched Willow pull Ari away from the door. Catching only a glimpse, Storm hardly recognized the monster in Willow's hands. Ari's face was a pale mask streaked with poisoned black veins, red eyes burning in blackened sockets, layers of needle teeth showing beneath curled black lips.
Though he only saw their twisted face for an instant, the image stained Storm's mind. Staring, he met Willow's gaze for a moment. She saw it too.
....
Author's Note
Ohhh man, we're getting to the heavy stuff now!
It will seem in the next sections that I've forgotten that Willow totally saw Ari turn into Skurdulka just now, but I promise that I haven't. Keep this in your back pocket, yah? Also someone mentioned a Ari+Willow ship and to that all I can say is mayyybe yes mayybe no : ) :) :)
Also thank you again to Luna (Insta; @lunnegend ) for these awesome drawings of Storm and Chris. I can't express how psyched I am to see these characters come to life on the page!
Skurdulka's House has turned out to be quite a bit longer than Skurdulka the Cryptid, but we have now reached the broccoli and potatoes. It's about to get real yall. Stay tuned for next week! :)