Puncture Wounds

The team decided we interview the family first. I don’t say “we” because I had no hand in this decision. I was the only one who wanted to go in and kick ass. The team wanted more information.

I thought this was a pretty obvious case, but I guess to them, it wasn’t. So at about ten we stopped in front of their house. The house was nice, and it was clear this family was a bit above middle class. Walked up to the front door step with Brandon, the others stayed behind in the van.

Knocked on the door, and a little boy, who looked to be about eight or nine, answered it. I’m kind of awkward around kids, so I was going to ask him to run in and get his parents. Until I saw the marks on his skin.

Puncture wounds all over his body, except his face. Little dots. Some on his arms, some on his legs, and a few on his neck. The poor kid must have been targeted by the infestation.

The type of Fear we are going to exterminate has been called a bunch of things. I refuse to use its common title more than I have to, because it will probably be changed in a year or so to something more official. Right now, it is commonly called the Intrusion. It’s a recent new discovery in this world, and the Lonely Hearts are having hell trying to contain it.

They spread like wildfires. Once these things pop on our radar, it’s already too late. I’ve seen at least two new Fears appear since the start of my career, and it’s always a stressful time. We have to research this Fear as much as we can, and we have to debrief all of the branches on ways to slow the spread down.

I don’t know how we could handle another Fear showing up. That would… that would suck.

“What do you need?” the kid says. His voice had a weak tone to it, and he seemed tired.

“Hey, there kiddo, are your parents home? I need to discuss a few thin-“

His mother showed up at the door.

“Yes?”

“Hi, I’m from the Lonely Hearts, I’m here to… deal with the uninvited guests.”

She nods, and moves out the way. She seemed a bit somber.

“Right this way….” She motions into the house. I walk in and follow her to the living room. The kid tags along too. That was good. Brandon stepped in as well.

She sat us down and offered us something to drink, like every housewife ever does, it seems. We declined, but she insisted, so we accepted two iced teas with sugar mixed in.

I hate iced tea, so when she served it to us, I only pretended to sip at it once, and then set it down on a coaster on the table.

We began to ask her the usual questions, but I opted out and told her I needed to question her son alone while my partner handled the interview. She was a bit hesitant to do that, but we assured her the boy wasn’t in trouble or something like that, so she agreed and I took the kid to the stairwell.

I sat down on the stairs, and asked him to sit down with me. He shook his head and said no.

“So, what’s your name, kid?” I knew his name.

“Ian.”

“Ian, eh? Kinda like Ian Mckellan.”

“…Who?”

“Errr. Before your time, kid. I guess.”

“Oh.”

Forgive me, I make nerdy references at times. It’s a curse.

“Alright, let’s get down to business. What’s with the puncture wounds? You hiding something from mommy and daddy?”

“I already told the other guys on the phone what happened.”

“Just fill me in quick too. I mean, why not?”

“I don’t… I don’t feel comfortable talking about it…”

I nodded. A common symptom I’ve seen in the victims of… “The Intrusion” is the unwillingness to talk about their experiences afterwards. Of course, many times there are other explanations to not wanting to talk about something; introversion and privacy, to name a couple. But that look on his face… his eyes darting to the lower right, and blinking a few times… his hands shaking a bit…

He was feeling them crawl through his skin, wasn’t he? Despite them not being there at the moment. Or maybe they were…

“You’ve been having bad nightmares too, haven’t you, Brandon?”

He nods. He doesn’t look up into my eyes.

He tries to speak up about them.

“Y-yeah… almost eve…every night. They-“

“There’s no need for you to tell me about them. I know about them too.” I didn’t want to put him through any more pain.

“You… you’ve had them before?”

“No. But I am aware of them. Don’t worry, kid. You’ll sleep safe and sound tonight.”

I get up from the stairs and walk past him. After walking a bit, I decide to reassure him.

I turn around, and with a big grin on my face, I say “I promise you that. I guarantee it.”

Alright. Cutting this post short. Time to take this target down.


If I don’t come back, I broke my promise. And I’m sorry for breaking yet another one.