The Singer

Vanessa climbed the ladder to the loft, cursing all the while. Below her, the horses and cows shifted. The boards of the old barn creaked as the wind battered against the sides. Rain pattered across the window panes, leaving streaks of water to distort the view of the outside. Not that there was much to distort. The sun had set, and with the storm in full swing, the main house and the farmland around couldn’t be seen. The old oak with its rope swing was only another black shape against darkness, lit occasionally by flashes of lightning.

At least the roof didn’t leak. It was a faint comfort when the wind was trying to wrest its way through the boards, but it was a comfort, nonetheless. Vanessa pulled herself onto the loft and shivered. This was the worst night to have watch duty. Cold, rainy, disgusting … Why did it have to be her day to watch the animals? With huffy movements, she started working on drawing the pallet closer to the edge of the loft, so she could see the floor below. Conner had moved it. Again. Honestly, there was no use in keeping watch if he wasn’t going to actually watch. Should have been Conner’s turn to spend the night. He deserved it.

Grumbling, she sat down, glaring sullenly at the animals below. For the past few weeks, something had been sneaking into the barn and stealing things. First it had been trinkets, horseshoes, and nails, before the thief had gotten bolder. Farming implements, the horses’ tacks, seeds for the next planting season. Most recently, it had been the farmyard cat. Each one had disappeared as if it had never been. Well, except for the cat. The blood-soaked hay had suggested a grislier demise then simple thievery.

At least the watches kept the disappearances to a minimum. Even if they were damp and cold and annoying.

Vanessa blew out her cheeks and sighed. It really was cold tonight. She reached out to snag her blanket and tugged it around her shoulders, pulling her knees to her chest. It barely helped; the blanket was a moth bitten thing. It would be more useful to sleep with the cows and horses below. That, however, held the danger of whatever thief they had seeing her and deciding to do to her what they did to the cat. Better to sit up here and watch from afar. So, Vanessa settled down into her blanket and prepared for the wait.

~ ~ ~

Time passed, and Vanessa suffered the boredom by counting the spaces between lightning flashes. It was getting colder with every minute. She shivered within her blanket cocoon. Her breath fogged, and the swirling clouds barely visible. It was getting harder and harder not to nod off. It had been hours since her watch started, and nothing had happened yet. It would be so simple to sleep …

Sleep …

Noise jerked her awake. She blinked sharply. Thunder? Had that been thunder? No, it had been too sharp and sudden, like the crash of metal against the floor. She blinked. Light, she could see light. The barn door was open, but how? She’d locked it behind her when she’d entered. It couldn’t be open.

It was. The muffled sound of the rain was clear now, and she could make out the crack between door and door frame, highlighted by some otherworldly glow. That light that traced the edges of the door was too cold for lantern light, shining ghostly white in the gloom. Maybe she’d gone crazy, or maybe it was a dream.

Another sound, this time the definite crash of thunder. No, this was no dream. Vanessa shifted onto her feet, keeping the blankets around her shoulders with one clenched hand, and scooted forwards. She balanced at the edge of the loft, peering into the gloom. There was the door, that otherworldly light, but what had opened it? What cast that light? She couldn’t see. She leaned forwards again, as far as she dared to go –

And bit back a scream.

Fingers. Fingers wrapped around the edge of the door, corpse pale and unnaturally long, gleaming with rain and light. The barn door cracked open further, and Vanessa froze, heart thudding painfully in her chest. The edge of a head peaked around the crack, long locks of light hair dancing as if on a breeze. A bone white forehead, two eyes black as night, a nose, a mouth, a chin. A face, a face to go with the fingers, supernaturally pale and giving off that pale, pale light. A demon. A demon or a spirit, Vanessa didn’t know, but this creature was not human.

Those black eyes cast across the barn, and she fought the urge to shrink back. Movement attracted attention; she’d seen that a dozen times with the barnyard cat and the pieces of straw Conner had used to play with it. The barnyard cat … Vanessa choked off a moan. This thing had eaten it. She knew that. It was obvious in those too long fingers, the glimpse of needle teeth behind its mouth. This thing had eaten the barnyard cat, and it would eat her too if she weren’t careful.

The door creaked open further, and the thing stepped inside. Now she could see it clearly. It was horribly tall and thin, as if all the moisture had been sucked dry from it. All bone and skin, covered in a shapeless gray sack. The light spun from it in tendrils, illuminating pebbles on the ground and the piles of hay against barn walls. As if in a dream, it stepped forwards, impossibly light and silent. Its lips stretched into a smile. Those needle teeth were on full display. It reached out towards one of the stalls, fingers playing against the latch. There was a click. The door swung open.

Oh god, it was going to eat a horse. Vanessa shifted to press her lips against the blanket, swallowing a cry of horror. She wanted to scramble back and hide, but she didn’t dare to risk it seeing her. There was nothing she could do but sit here and watch and wait for it to leave –

A sound. It teased right past her ear, under the thrum of the rain and the occasional rumble of thunder. Light and playful. A song. It was singing, that mouth opening to let loose a sound, so sweet Vanessa could hardly believe it could come from such a horrifying thing. It stepped back from the horse’s stall, feet light across the ground. Like the steps to a dance. It swirled back, the shapeless bag flaring around it as the light grew brighter. Beautiful.

Come here, my friend, come here …

How foolish she had been to fear this thing! Nothing that light on its feet and able to make such a sweet sound could possibly wish her harm. Had she truly thought those bony arms held malice? They just looked fragile now. The creature was a fleeting, fragile thing, only looking for companionship. And companionship it got. The horse, Star, the one with the blaze across his forehead, started forwards. His hooves stepped light over hay and earth. He swayed to the otherworldly music. The thing’s song swelled, its fingers bending in a beckoning crook.

Come to my welcoming arms …

Vanessa’s fingers loosened. The blanket slipped from her grasp to pool against the wooden loft floor. She stood, half swaying. Such a lovely sound, that music, with just enough loneliness in it to make her heart ache. This creature needed a friend. Why else would it have come here? She swayed forwards, a smile slipping onto her face. She could be that creatures’ friend. They could be friends …

Come here, my friend, come here …

Come to my welcoming arms …