The Boy in the Barn.

He felt heavy at the sight of it. Like he was the muddy earth that it stood on. It was for this weight it had put on him, that he held it at a chokehold within his mind. An imaginary prisoner he kept locked away, and the only recreational time it had was when he was alone. “I'm sorry sir but there are still some papers left for you to sign.” Marshall turned to look at Tom. he felt like Tom was some sort of cold husk. Lanky, pale skin, and sunken eyes, all tucked in a nice suit. He looked at Tom, up and down. He made him feel cold and husk-like as well, as he was handed the papers. “Thank you, sir. I will leave you and return tomorrow to pick them up. I believe that much time will suffice?” Marshall nodded, as his face grew dark. Tom seemed to glide on the mud as he climbed into his car, and it too seemed to run like some hydrophobic machine, untainted by the sticky substance. Marshall felt cleanliness as soon as Tom's car had gone through the gates, like a warm shower washing away a cold slime. Bella came out of the house, and grabbing hold of Marshall, she smoothly rubbed his back, looking at him with sadness and love. “Are you okay?” she asked, as she wiped some dirt that seemed to reach on Marshall's cheek. “Yeah. go on and take the kids back to the hotel, I still need to do a couple of things, and then we can head out tomorrow.” she nodded, and went back into the house, coming out later with the children and driving out.

Finally, he was alone. He stood before once again, the barn his father used. It was in its worst condition, the wood was faded and rotting, the roof caved in, and the spiders and rodents had claimed it for their domain. Before the doors, it looked like they were smashed in. one stood hinged, but the other was broken in half. What stood on things was splintered and broken, and the other part laid inside the muddied floor of the barn.

The whole thing looked like it was going to eat him, the way it brooded with his brokenness and shadows it casts. Like a face distinguished in splinters and cracks. Marshall felt the pit inside. The evil had twisted the very building. He ran his fingers against the grains that were still grains of the door and looked inside, deep within, at the very back of the barn, where he had his pet chicken. He remembers petting it every day and taking care of it. He kept it there in the back, in his little pin. His brother, Jacob, would come up to pet Beaker too. They loved that rooster. It was probably the best part, about living here, on the farm. But the memory seemed to fade away into the shadows, or rather eaten.

There was something Marshall had to do now. He gave a look at the house and decided to go inside. Everything on the property was run down, and it creaked with every step Marshall took inside. Through the door, he saw his wife had let the lights on. Did she know he would come back inside? He glanced at the living room built around a fireplace in the wall to the left, and the kitchen and dining room on the right. The stairs were before him. He took a hesitant step, before climbing them all. The hall was in no better condition, a crack had formed along the sides. Frames of nature paintings hung on its walls, and the large crack seemed to knock them sideways. Going down the hall, he passed the first room. The room didn't have a light on, and it was dark. He stood before the door that hung halfway, and he took his time going in, scanning every part, as if there might be someone there. There wasn't. He stood in the middle of the room, where the moon cooled the floor with its glow. It was the master bedroom, where his parents slept. It felt cold here, so Marshall walked out, back into the hall warmed by the orange fluorescent bulbs. Grabbing the knob, he closed the door, watching as the room disappeared from view.

He headed down further, and found his old room. Going inside, he found toys still lying on the ground, the day he left. It was almost untouched. He found something new, a doodle of crayons on the wall, with a pack of them lying on the floor next to it. Marshall smiled, and knowing it was his daughters packed the loose crayons back and slid it in his pocket. He could almost see him and his brother playing on the floor again. He was about to leave, when a frame beside his old bed caught his eye. It was him and Jacob. Breaking the frame, he took the photo, and put that into his pocket as well. He closed the door smiling at the image of two young children playing on the floor, he didn't want anyone to bother them. Walking back down the hall, he heard a squeak of a hinge. He saw the door to the mast bedroom open up, by nothing and no one. Marshall gave a deep sigh. Then the house had begun to tremble, and the cracks raced around branching out. Supernatural as it was, to Marshall, it was no different than ignoring someone. The trembling stopped when he reached the bottom of the stairs. It was then he heard a meow. A black cat had sat on top of the stairs. Marshall recognized it and shook his head as he walked out the door. The cat followed him. “You think you can just ignore me?” it hissed. Marshall stopped and turned. His face grew even darker. “No, I think I can do better.” Marshall's words seemed to have hurt the cat in a way. It growled, and morphed, taking its true form. A rotting feline corps, it lunged at Marshall in anger. He turned and swung at the possessed creature, hitting it into the ground. He faced his palm toward it, and whispering words, he pulled the cat back into his hand with magic. It struggled in his choking grasp. It felt this pressure, this inevitability, a thought that would become a reality slowly closing in like the grip that held it. “I let you fester here for too long.” Marshall clenched, and the neck of the cat snapped. It became sand and ash-like, and the grains fell through his hands, into the mud and dried grasses. Hearing wood creaking and snapping, Marshall looked up at the house. He was not impressed, despite the house transforming into a wolf-like creature. It had legs, fangs, and all. It growled at Marshall, with the warm glow of the lights in its eyes. “And I let you off too easily. Don't worry son, grandpa will make sure your kids are taken care of!” it ran toward Marshall, shaking the ground with its mass. Marshal had enough. It had been long overdue. Weaving more magic, ropes of fire lashed the wood wolf and binding it. Marshall pulled it down, the wolf splintered and broke as his head crashed into the ground. It struggled, but it was wrapped by the legs too. Whipping the blazing ropes with all his strength, Marshall tore the beast apart and pieces flew, ablaze. The spirit had been silenced, or at least it was too weak to speak.

Marshall came before the barn once more. “Marsh?” he froze. The voice of a young boy called out to him from deep within the barn. He peeked through the broken entrance. It was a beaker, the rooster. It stood there, and just like the cat, it was decayed, bloodied, and dead. Its empty eyes looked right back at him. “Marsh? Where are you? Marsh, I'm scared. I think dad is going to hurt us again, we should go hide.`` Marshall melted, his hard and dark face became soft and wet. The voice made him go cold and hollow. “Oh, what the fuck?” his voice shook in horror. “You didn't think I was the only one trapped here, did you?” a dead rat had erected to his feet, talking up to Marshall. He shook his head in disbelief. “I thought that, by some chance, you would have the time to think. Time to understand what you did, the kind of person you were...I hoped that I wouldn't have to come back.” Marshall kneels down to the possessed rodent. “I wanted to be able to forgive you.” the rodent laughed at him, it was an evil cackle. “You killed your own mother! How does it feel, murderer? I tried my best, but you turned out to be a piece of shit anyway. Now, you're gonna let your own little brother suffer?” Marshall turned dark once more and hardened himself. “You're right.” incanting a spell he set the barn aflame.

He began to walk away from it all. The rodent stumbled towards him. “No! You're killing him! How could you!?” Marshal turned for a moment, his face shadow under the orange dancing glow of the flames. “You ate him, his spirit, and assimilated him. You twisted him into something sad and unrecognizable, even after death. That is no longer my brother. So burn, may everything you have touched return to dust. May your soul be condemned in the pit, and be torn apart for the rest of time.” with those words, the rodent had been swept up in the breeze as ash. The barn burns behind them, and through the flames, Marshall could see an outline of a familiar young boy, smiling back. He climbs into his car, and leaves the farm for the last time. Coming back through the hotel door, he hugs his children, and gives the crayons back to his little girl. Him and Bella exchange a bittersweet smile.