Part 3: Night Help
There was no sign of where the blood came from. Just a puddle in the middle of the floor. Thick. Gummy.
“Dr. Kettering?”
I heard something. Not quite a voice.
“Dr. Kettering? Are you here?”
A door closed from inside the house. A few footsteps, then silence.
I backed toward the door. My shoes were tacky with blood. The thing mirrored my steps.
“Hhallp.” The word froze me.
I tried to move toward the door quietly, but my shoes gave me away, sticking just slightly to the floor.
Then it came again, “help.”
In the dark outside, I saw my bike standing in the driveway. I bent over and unlaced my shoes, slipping out of them and stepping out of the blood toward the door.
Something shifted by the fence as I moved toward my bike. I fought the urge to run, walking silently through the yard. Just as I touched the handle, a voice came through the fence.
“Danny. Leaving so soon?”
I straddled the bicycle. “Dr. Kettering?”
“Who else would it be?”
“Where are you?”
“I got stuck inside the fence. Please, let me out.”
“Dr. Kettering, there’s blood inside the house. What happened?”
There was silence for a few seconds. I found the push-off pedal with my foot.
“Come back inside, where we can talk.”
Inside the house, I heard slow movement.
“This job isn’t for me, Dr. Kettering. I’m going to take off.”
The thing inside the house charged down the stairs. I pushed off and started down the driveway. The driveway snaked back and forth. I heard it behind me—its feet hitting the gravel. I pedaled as hard as I could.
“You broke the rules, Danny,” it howled behind me.
I took the corner where the driveway met the road at full speed. My legs pumped like pistons; its feet pounded the road. The bike picked up speed downhill. I pulled away—toward the lights of town. I heard it stop.
“I know you now, Danny,” it yelled.
I never looked back.
I rode to my house, dark and empty. Found my bed. Told myself it wasn’t real.
But the voice won’t leave my mind.
It sounded exactly like me.