The Marrow Boys

The cabin in the woods had been abandoned for years, but one night, a candle burned in the window. It burned with a strange, red flame that filled the entire pane. The Marrow boys had gone to this cabin for the past three Halloweens, but this was the first time they’d seen any indication that someone might be inside. This was a minor setback, but nothing that was going to ruin the Marrow boys’ night, because the cabin was an excellent place to bring girls and this year would be no exception. Girls always squealed at the scarecrow that stood at attention a few yards away from the cabin, and the thick spiderwebs that hung down from the front porch like old lace. They squealed at everything, really, which meant they jumped into Henry or Kyle’s arms and the Marrow boys got to play the heroes, for once.

This time, though, there were no spiderwebs on the front porch. The girls, unaware of this absence, continued to silently follow the boys. The boys trudged onward, silent as well, but their thoughts were anxious and loud. No spiderwebs, and no dead leaves, which typically collected on the porch in heaps like small, freshly dug graves. And then there was the business of the candle, burning brightly in the upstairs window. The absence of one and the addition of the other. How strange, the Marrow boys thought. How very, very odd. Henry’s stomach gave a half-hearted flip, but he refused to address its misgivings. He didn’t even look at his brother, for fear that his brother would feel him looking and know he was afraid.

Kyle came to a halt just before the rotting wooden steps. The girl — Morgan — reached for his hand and grabbed it so tightly his knuckles were stretched bone white. He heard Henry and his girl come up behind them, so close he could feel Henry’s annoying anxious breathing on the back of his neck.

“Are you actually suggesting we follow you in there?” Morgan asked, turning up her nose and, unfortunately, not looking the least bit scared. “Because there’s no way in hell that’s happening.” Kyle was about to snap at her, but instead found himself momentarily mesmerized by the way her cornsilk hair glowed in the light of the dying sun.

It was a good thing she was so hot, Kyle thought. Since everything else about her was so off-putting.

“Absolutely no way,” Blair agreed, appearing on Morgan’s other side. “After all, we’re not really the following sort.” Morgan snorted. Blair didn’t look scared either. Instead, her large hazel eyes burned with something closer to anticipation. Blair had dragged Henry with her. Henry stared at his brother, his eyes growing wider and wider, his mouth a thin line. Once he had Kyle’s attention, he lowered his eyes to his hands.

Kyle followed his brother’s gaze. At first, he wasn’t quite sure what he was seeing, just that whatever it was made dread unfurl in his chest. Sometimes it takes the mind a little bit longer to catch up to the horror one’s body already knows. Henry’s arms were at his sides, but where his hands should be there was only white stubs. Stubs that were dripping onto the leaves at Henry’s feet, onto Henry’s faded blue jeans and his favorite checkered sneakers.

There was a sound caught in Kyle’s throat that was choking him in its urgency to get out. When it finally did, it was no more than the whisper of a moan and it left his mouth drier than it had ever been.

“Wh-what’s happening to you?” he finally managed.

Henry didn’t speak. His lips seemed to shrink even further, until they all but disappeared into his face. Kyle lunged for where Henry’s hands used to be, but found he couldn’t move his feet.

He looked down at his sides. When had Morgan dropped his hand? He hadn’t felt her leave, and yet, instead of a hot girl’s skin touching his there was just … wax. White wax that was slithering up his arms, white wax that had already engulfed his palm and was curling his fingers in on themselves until they resembled his brother’s stumps.

He tried frantically to move his arms, but they refused to move. Kyle watched in horror as the wax reached his chest and continued upwards, getting closer and closer, until the wax stiffened his neck so much he was forced to stare straight ahead.

There they were, painfully gorgeous in the starlight. Morgan and Blair were standing tall, arms linked together, watching in unadulterated glee as Kyle and Henry turned to wax statues.

Their mouths opened wide into hyena grins as they said, “Let’s see how you like to burn,” and then Kyle could hear no more.