The next two weeks felt to Jude like he was sitting in a doctor’s waiting room. There is always one more person before you. The return email from Komodo Camp finally arrived, with additional information about the camp in general, and an extra bit about Jude’s particular “situation”.
Their lawyer got involved at some point, but Jude was barely able to focus on anything to care. By the end of the week, Jude was cleared of being a suspect, which was the first bit of good news he’d received all week.
He still didn’t know how someone had doctored the video so quickly and so well. The strange angler-gecko thing had been completely cut out somehow, not a trace of the creature remained. A part of Jude wondered if the creature had cloaking powers, some magical ability that prevented it from showing up on video.
Magic was another thing constantly on his mind these days. The idea of a magical society had been something he, his brother, and cousins had been fascinated by as kids. After Jude’s grandfather Johan Blake had died so unexpectedly, it was hard to think about it in a positive light. The only way Jude could explain his grandfather’s mysterious and untimely death was by assuming that there was a connection to this very magical society.
The appearance of this strange creature seemed otherworldly to him and rekindled this connection. A dark wizard or something must’ve gotten to him, Jude had thought. For a while there, he had been hopeful that his grandfather wasn’t dead at all, just taken away. Hope eventually faded, he’d accepted it but he could not say that he had ever really moved on.
The fact that he was standing in front of his grandma’s house at nearly midnight proved that better than anything. It had been two weeks since Jude had been signed up for hell camp and tomorrow was the day of reckoning. Jude had packed his things and gotten into bed, but couldn’t fall asleep. While everyone else had retired to bed earlier than usual, Jude was up, pacing in his room. The night was freezing, but regardless, Jude had this strange need to see his grandparents’ house before he left. And here he was, at this place where he bore witness to his grandfather being taken away.
Stories of mysterious people with unexplained powers and mysterious disappearances swirled in his head, stories from Reddit and videos from Youtube. Doubt coupled with frustration, dread, and a dash of hope stirred an uncomfortable storm in his head until finally, he couldn’t take it anymore. He should’ve followed the creature down into the storm drain, snuck up on it, and put a stop to this madness. Even though his hands were hurting from the biting cold, he reached into his pocket and took out the skeleton key. Looking at it in his gloved hand, it’s rusted gold surface was strangely bright against the darkness of the night.
He remembered the day his grandfather had given it to him. Jude was maybe nine or ten years old. When his grandfather handed him the key he was clear to not lose it. That was quite a responsibility to place on such a young child but, even though Jude did not have a very good track record with not losing things, the key was the one thing he never lost. The knowledge of the key and the trust his grandfather placed in him awakened a kind of freedom in Jude. A thirst for exploration if you will. Even though Jude hadn’t been allowed to take walks by himself when he was that young, he pretty regularly snuck out after receiving the freedom key, as he liked to call it, to visit his grandfather. Of course, he never let on that this was the case to his grandfather.
Jude was about to turn back when he stopped and looked back at the house. Two days ago his grandma had come to visit them before she left for his Uncle Aaron’s farm, so the house was empty. He’d been putting off coming here since the creature’s reappearance, but he couldn’t wait any longer. This was his last chance.
With a newfound determination, he walked toward the dark blue gate and opened the lock. He walked into the yard, making sure to lock the gate properly before heading toward the front door. After unlocking it, he entered the dark house.
The house hadn’t changed much since he had last seen it. He didn’t come over to visit his grandmother much, mostly because she spent a lot of time on the farm, in an attempt to avoid having to face the memories Jude believed. She was considering moving there, having grown up on the farm. His grandpa’s favorite pair of boots still sat at the door, his notebook and pen were placed on the side table at the entrance hall. He walked into the living room, flicking on the light, and suddenly he felt eleven again, staring wide-eyed as paramedics covered Johan Blake’s body in a white sheet. His grandma was pulling him away, telling him to look away. It was all so fresh and yet so far away in his mind. He had to blink several times so his eyes could adjust. As his eyes adjusted to the light the memory seemed to fade slowly away. Jude felt his heart galloping in his chest.
Taking a moment to breathe, he continued further into the living room toward the big brown couch that was still as scraped up and falling apart as ever. A photo frame sat on the desk next to it, and Jude looked away before he could see what was on it. He wasn’t here for a trip down memory lane. He was here for something else. He knew he’d be dumb to expect answers here, but Jude had never thought of himself as particularly smart. This is where it had happened. Right behind the couch.
Looking around, he saw nothing out of the ordinary. No ‘magic pearls’ or scorch marks or anything weird that people could have overlooked but the Reddit conspiracy theorists swear they saw.
He walked to the door leading to the kitchen, turning on the lights there too. He barely had time to process the shadow next to him before there was a sudden bang, quickly followed by a sharp pain in his head. Something – or someone – grabbed him and threw him into the kitchen table. Glass shattered from somewhere. Jude tried to get back up and look around but tripped and fell back down. The heard the sound of heavy footsteps and all of a sudden all the lights went out.
Someone was here.
Jude didn’t know whether he should chase after the person who just threw him into the dining table, probably breaking grandma’s prized fruit bowl, stay and hide, or call the cops. It took a couple of seconds before he found himself leaping onto his feet and rushing out the door into the dark living room. He tripped over the rolled-up carpet, fell down, and jumped up again, in almost one smooth motion.
It was then that he noticed the front door was left wide open he glimpsed a shimmering red cloak disappearing over the gate. He stood there stunned. He had to blink as it seemed that the cloak was not attached to anyone or anything but was floating along as if by an invisible force, twisting and turning around trees.
It never lost its bright light, until it morphed into a half-circle and disappeared as if swallowed by a vortex. The wind picked up a little, he could hear a dog barking next door. Jude’s heart was now beating even faster in his chest as he stared wide-eyed at the spot where the cloak had seemingly been swallowed up by the night.
Thoughts were racing across his mind, wondering what he should do. He had to tell someone, right? But who? And what would he tell them? That a shimmering red cloak had broken into his grandma’s house, thrown him into a table, and then disappeared into a vortex or something?
A grumble unwillingly escaped his throat, and he was filled with the urge to punch a wall. Instead, he leaned against the wall, his throat feeling tight. He’d come here for answers, and again his quest for any sort of clue had ended in more questions. Jude was seriously starting to lose patience with all of this.
A sudden loud chime had him jumping to his feet, his fists held ready for a fight. It took him a while to realize it was the old clock in the living room. The clock struck one, two, three more times. It was midnight. Jude had to be up and ready to leave for camp in five and a half hours. In an attempt to compose himself Jude drew in a deep breath and let it out slowly for the count of five.
He repeated this ritual until he finally felt calmer. After he cleaned up the mess in his grandma’s kitchen as best he could (the fruit bowl had indeed been sacrificed), he left the house, keeping his eyes open for any sign of the strange red-cloaked phantom or dragon-geckos with angler fish lights on their heads.