4.A Little Town With Not-So-Little Problems

The duo walked quietly into the little town. You couldn’t exactly call it a town, it was just one, big, dirt road with buildings on either side. Decker had seen little towns like this before; the buildings were usually two to three stories high, the bottom floor for businesses, and the top floors used for storage and housing. He watched the buildings, waiting for someone to enter or exit the shops, but there was no one, he was the only one out on the street, weird for a town built like this. 

Bolt heard the sounds before his rider, his ears perking up and his head turning to the right. Decker turned his eyes, staring at another set of eyes; a light shade of green. He tightened his grip on the reins but before he could do anything, the person had gone from the window. “Huh” was all he had to say, and then he heard it. The notes came to him in crackled bits, but it was definitely the notes of music. A piano and something else. He moved toward the sound, slowly recognizing the tune, copying it with a low whistle. As he made Bolt walk on, he studied the buildings, shades of light green and tan. Then he stopped at the biggest building. It was built like all the others but had been painted a purple color, music streaming out the double doors, lights and sounds of people coming from within. “Guess this is the place,” he sighed as he mounted off, giving a little huff as his feet made contact with the ground. “Be good,” he said to Bolt as he hitched him up, giving him a stern look, “I’m not paying for any mess you make.” He turned on his heel, slowly making his way up the saloon stairs, his spurs janggling as he walked across the porch. 

After being in the sun all day, the dimmer lit space made him see strange, brightly colored dots, and moved as best he could towards the bar. The music was still playing, but it was quieter. He could feel eyes on him, but that was expected, a newcomer in this dirt speck of a town, people were bound to stare, especially someone that looked like him. As his vision cleared, he sat at a stool, putting his shotgun between his legs as he did so. The bartender eyed him for a second, then asked sharply “You need something cowboy?” 

“Business.” The bartender stared at him blankly. “And a drink, please.” The look on the bartender's face made Decker wonder what other newcomers were like. 

“All right. What would you like Mr., uh, uh, shit I don’t know your name sir.” 

“Oh uh, you can call me Wyatt.”

“Wyatt, swear I’ve heard that name before. Don’t hear that name too often.” He stood there cleaning a glass and pondered, then his head suddenly snapped up. And there’s the recognition- “HOLY SHIT MR. YOU’RE DECKER WYATT, THE GREATEST MONSTER HUNTER OF AMERICA!!!” The music stopped all together with that. Chairs creaked as bodies turned to look at him fully. 

Decker gave an awkward grin, “That’d be me.” The bartender smiled, his eyes shining like a child. 

“So you’re here to see the boss man aren’t you?”

“Uh, I guess? I just got ‘called’ here, that's all I know.”

“Yea, you’re probably here to fix our little monster problem.”

“Well if it’s a monster problem you have, I’m your guy.” He put a rough, calloused thumb to his chest.

The bartender laughed. “Alright, here, I’ll take ya up to see him and his wife. CHUCK, WATCH THE BAR WILL YA??? I’M TAKIN DECKER WYATT TO SEE THE BOSS MAN!!! Alright let’s go, follow me.” Decker winced as he got up; with that announcement the monster probably already knew he was here. He watched as the bartender walked from behind the bar. His eyes immediately looked down to the man’s hips, a chain hanging from his belt loops. Keys of all shapes, sizes, and different types of metals hung from the silver chain. They jingled and jangled, the sound so loud that it covered the jangle of Decker’s spurs. The bartender went through a door that read “employees only”, turning round to make sure Wyatt was still following. They passed little doors and closets, finally coming to the end of the narrow hall. There sat a pale green door, and on it wrote “Mr. and Mrs. Spencer '' and underneath in less official looking writing, “Bossman ''. Decker watched as the bartender pulled at the chain of keys, flicking through them quietly till he found the right one. The door unlocked with an eerie, low creak, opening up to a dark staircase. The bartender turned round again and smiled at Decker. “Just up a few stairs now.” The pair walked up, jingling and jangling with every step they took. They passed the second floor, which looked to Wyatt as the living area. There was a little blue couch and a squat little table with a book on top, underneath was a pale mint color rug with red flower detailing. The bartender again opened another door, this time reading “Mr. and Mrs. Spencer: Office ''. They walked up another flight off stares to the third floor. There was a little window to let in light, but besides the brown door in front of them with a peephole, the tiny room was bare. “Mr. and Mrs. Spencer?” the bartender knocked and called out, “The great monster hunter Decker Wyatt is here to see ya.” Decker blushed, he hated introductions where people made him seem so amazing. Suddenly, the small peephole opened.

“Decker Wyatt?” a woman's voice asked from behind the door. 

“Yes, that’d be me ma’am.” He tried to give a little grin.

“Good, come on in you two.” The door opened, letting light in from large windows on the other side. There stood a tall woman, gray hair that was still mousy brown at the tips twirled and pinned in a loose bun. She wore a light purple sweater, with a light gray and blue dress underneath.

“Ma’am,” the men said in unison, giving a small nod. She nodded back, then turned on the heel of her little polished black boot, motioning them to follow her. Like the bartender, she kept a chain of keys around her waist. The woman, Mrs. Spencer, walked with purpose, her boots giving a brisk little tap everytime she stepped. The men followed her for a few seconds before they stopped at yet another door. The woman knocked on the fogged yellow glass with her knuckle, a man’s voice calling from the inside to let the three in.

In a cushioned swivel chair sat an older man, possibly a few years older than Mrs. Spencer. He was balding a little at the top, but his dark brown hair still looked fairly good. He wore a blue and purple striped shirt and dark brown pants, black suspenders holding them up. Mrs. Spencer and the bartender walked in first, the woman hopping atop a cabinet behind the large desk, clipboard and pen now in hand, and the bartender found his place next to the door. Wyatt walked in last. He gave another polite nod, “Mr. Spencer.” The man smiled and nodded back, eyes twinkling like a child. Decker had seen the same look in the bartender's eyes just about ten minutes before.

“Well, if it isn’t Decker Wyatt, the famous monster hunter of America, in the flesh and blood!” his voice and eyes raised with those last few words.

Wyatt chuckled quietly, “That it is Mr.” Mr. Spencer put his hand out and the men shook. Wyatt was surprised at how the boss made his arm jiggle in its socket. 

Mrs. Spencer looked over her glasses at her husband. “Honey, if you shake his arm any longer or harder, you’re gonna pull his arm off.”

“Oh, uh sorry-” Mr. Spencer laughed nervously, dropping the cowboys hand and scratching his head. “I just heard stories of your father and others from your family when I was a kid. Something out of a fairytale. And then I heard about you a few years ago and it brought back all that childhood excitement-”

“And it hasn’t left since-” His wife cut in, again looking over her clipboard and glasses. Mr. Spencer gave his wife a look. She grinned at him with tight lips. This made Decker chuckle again, louder this time, a hand going to his chest.

“S’cuse my manners,” He said, a bright red blush spreading across his cheeks. Both husband and wife smiled kindly at him. Wyatt cleared his throat after a moment, coughing into his fist momentarily. “Well, I heard you have a monster problem, and I'm the man for the job.”

“Ah yes,” the boss said, “But first, take a seat.” Decker gladly did so, “Drink?”

“Yes please.” He was parched.

“Did Charley get you anything to drink while you were down there?” So that was the bartender's name.

“Er, no- we basically came right up.”

“I see. Whiskey?” Decker gladly took a glass. As he sat back down he awkwardly straddled his shotgun, knocking it over with his knee.

“You don’t have anywhere I could put this, do you?“ Mrs. Spencer came round the desk, taking the shotgun, and placing it on a table beneath a large window. “I do enjoy the pleasantries, but I’d really like to know more about this monster.”

“Ah yes. Charley,” Mr. Spencer looked over Decker’s head, “are the work men still here?”

“Yes, but they leave in about half an hour to go back.”

“That’s fine, tell them to finish their food and come up quickly.” 

“Yes boss.” And Charley left.

“We have some accounts of the monster from some people that help.”

“Yes, it would greatly help, thanks.” Decker grinned and took a sip of the whiskey. It was almost sticky on his tongue. “So, how and when did this monster come about? Do you know where it came from?” 

“Actually we do,” Mr. Spencer sighed, his wife looking up from her glasses again. “Did you see that little town, about, a mile away?”

“Uhhh,” he thought and scratched his beard. “Yea kinda, it was bigger than this town.”

“Yea, that was the old town, but we moved out because of weird go-ons” he shrugged, “also mold,” his eyes looked distant, like he was remembering… “a lot of mold-“ he shook his head and came back to reality. “Sorry. Anyways, there were weird things going on and we decided not to stay, so we moved over here.”

“Question. How old is that town?”

“No idea. It’s been around longer than I have been, is all I know.” Decker nodded his head in thought.

“Like, paranormal happenings?”

“Sort of? I’m not sure how to explain it, the flames would sometimes turn red late at night. Some farm animals, mostly goats and sheep, were slaughtered. Then the weird noises started happening. Screaming, crying, banging. When the windows and stuff started breaking, we started moving out here.”

“I see. So, have you ever seen or heard this monsters?”

“Only thing we heard was the screaming and the breaking of things.” He chuckled, “There used to be some fairytale about a witch but it’s all very vague. Don’t know if that helps any.” Decker shrugged and added it to his list of mental notes. He thought for a second, swirling the whiskey in his cup. He reached into his pocket and pulled out his fathers monster diary. He flipped through the pages, looking at the images slowly. As he flipped through looking for some keywords to help him, the door creaked open. There were many footsteps. Decker looked up, in time to see Mr. Spencer nod and Mrs. Spencer flip to a new page on her clipboard. Decker turned in his chair, five men stood by the door, Charley, the bartender was also there. “Wyatt, is it ok if I call you that son?” 

Decker’s stomach and heart did a weird fluttering thing at the word “son”. “Yes boss, that’s fine.” Mr. Spencer grinned then looked at the men.

“Well, Wyatt, this is some of the construction crew.”

“Construction?”

“Ah yes, I’m expanding this town.” He wore a proud face.

“Oh, so you’re the mayor?” The Boss’ proud face disappeared. 

“Sadly, no. But our good-for-nothing mayor isn’t doing anything so I am.” His proud face was back.

“Well that’s very swell Mr.”

“Don’t forget about the mayor’s carnival.” Mrs. Spencer said flatly. Decker raised an eyebrow. “The mayor wants to have a carnival to promote the extension of the city and the opening of our big hotel.”

“That’s part of the reason why we need you to catch our monster,” Mr. Spencer started to explain, “we want everything to be safe at the carnival and at the hotel.” Decker nodded, understanding. “Here are some of our construction men, they’ve had more encounters with the thing than anyone else.”

With that Decker stood up and looked at the men. The five that stood looked to be in their early to mid twenties. “Howdy.” Decker said, cracking a grin.

The others grinned back at him “Hello.” Wyatt looked over them all. One had short brown hair with eyes in the same color. His skin was tan and his outfit was a powder blue button down and black jeans, boots and a belt to complete the look. There was also a gold band on his wrist. There were two men who looked identical, both in white tanks and dark gray overalls, clunky work boots with red laces to complete the look. The taller one had a hairline scar that ran down the right side of his face. They both had sleek black hair and observant gray eyes. The tallest of the men had light brown hair cut short, almost like he had just gotten out of the army. He wore a navy and red flannel, unbuttoned with a light gray tank underneath. His pants were also a navy color and had the same boots as the twins did. The last man looked almost like a Cupid, the kind you saw on ceilings of churches. He had golden locks that were cut short but still managed to curl wildly. His skin was a nice tan. He wore a white shirt and green pants, with dark brown work boots. What Wyatt was most curious about was his eyes. A delicate, light green that seemed to search for the good in everybody. On the left side of his face, he had a curious birthmark. It was bright pink in color and shaped as a heart. Wyatt realized he must’ve been staring because the boy blushed and smiled at him, Decker smiled back. He realized that this boy had the pair of green eyes that had stared at him when he had first arrived. 

Decker cleared his throat, getting everyone’s attention. “I want you to look through this book and tell me if any of these drawings are what you’ve been seeing.” He gave the book to the tallest man. They put it on the desk, everyone gathering to look the book over. They flipped the pages one by one, some would point, and make silent remarks, but after a while they returned the book. 

“Whatever we have isn’t documented in that book of yours.” The man with the hairline scar said. Great, a new monster I have to figure out how to kill. Well it wasn’t all so bad, he thought, he always liked a challenge and adding to his fathers diary.

“Well then boys, I guess we add your monster to a new page in my book.” He flipped to the next vacant page and pulled out a pencil from his leather bag and sat down. “Anyone got a description?”

The men volleyed off each other.

“A woman's body-“

“But…backwards?”

“White skin, as white as snow.”

“On all fours.”

“Crawls around.” 

“There’s no face, it looks more like a scary mask.”

Wyatt sat there silent for a second. All the information was very confusing. “When you say a woman's body but backwards, what do you mean by that?”

“Have you ever been to a circus?”

Wyatt shuddered. “Yea, a few times.”

“Have you ever seen those acrobats that can bend over backwards like their backs are made out of jelly?” Decker nodded, knowing what he was talking about. “It walks like that, all weirdly bent over.”

“Does it ever stand on two legs?”

“Never.”

“Hm, would you say it walks awkwardly like that, all bent over?”

“No sir, it’s very fluid, natural for this thing. Like it’s been walking like this since the day it could.” Wyatt mumbled to himself, he prayed to whatever god there was that this wasn’t some possession. He hadn’t learned to deal with possessions-

“Does it have hands and feet?”

“Yes sir.” He wrote that down.

“Does it just walk?”

“No sir. It can walk or run, it can also pick things up with its hands.”

“When you say run, like how fast? Like if you tried to run?”

“No sir, this thing is as fast as a race horse.”

Decker's head snapped up, his brow furrowed. “A race horse??? Naaaaaw, you’re pulling my leg boy. It couldn’t be that fast-“ Could it? He finished his thoughts in his head so as to not frighten the others.

“I wouldn't lie to you sir this thing is as fast as lightning.” Great, will Bolt be able to match that speed? 

“What about the face? I heard something about a scary mask-“ They all shuddered- Bad sign-

“It’s long and white, the mouth is big and open, the mouth and eyes are an orangish red, no nose.”

“Could you draw it for me?” He handed the man a slip of paper and his pencil. The man took it and drew a face, then handed it around to the other four men, they made little alterations until they all looked at it and nodded approvingly.

“Here’s our monster's face, mister.” The “face” looked like scary clown makeup melted onto a balloon. Wonderful, he thought sarcastically. 

He drew it onto the free space left on his page. “Like this?” He asked, flipping it around for all to see.

They all made a face. “That’s our monster alright.” They seemed to sigh in unison.

“Alright, time to add specifics. Height?”

“A little bigger than a goat, I’d say three feet.”

“Feeding habits?” 

“Animals as small as chickens and rabbits, things as big as fully grown goats and sheep, haven't gotten any humans…yet.”

“When does it usually appear?”

“An hour after it gets dark.” Wyatt looked up.

“That punctual?”

“Yes sir.”

“Noises it makes?” There was a loud silence. He looked up. Everyone seemed nervous and didn’t want to speak. “Uh- the sound it makes? You said it makes sound-“

“Welllllll…it screams-“

“What kind of scream?” The loud silence still stood. “Oh cmon, what sound does it make?”

Mr. Spencer let out a sad huff “it sounds like…it sounds like the last scream of a woman before she dies in childbirth.” Wyatt was silent, no wonder no one wanted to say it.

“Oh, I’m sorry.” 

“It’s ok son.” Everyone was quiet for a second. Decker let out a huff and stood up, putting little scraps of paper back in his book,  then put the book and pencil back in the leather bag. He downed the rest of the whiskey, still sticky on his tongue. “Well sitting here isn’t going to do any of us any good, might I ride up to the construction site?” 

“Of course,” Mr. Spencer said, his smile back.

“Take the boys with you.” Mrs. Spencer said, looking over her clipboard again. The men nodded and followed Charley out. Decker turned to go as well. 

“Mr. Wyatt wait-“ Decker turned around, eyebrow slightly lifted. “Be careful son.” Decker's heart and stomach fluttered again. “Some say that thing was created out of witchcraft.”

Wyatt sucked his teeth. “No matter what, I’ll try as best I can to kill it. Either that or it kills me.” Wyatt chuckled but Mr. Spencer grimaced. “Also, uh, my terms are that I get paid half before, half after I’ve accomplished the task.”

Mr. Spencer shrugged and opened a drawer in his desk with a key. “Seems perfectly fair to me.” He counted out a few bills and handed Wyatt the money. Wyatt stared at the cash.

“Mr. Spencer, I can’t take this, this is more than my final cost-“ 

“Take it son, you’ve earned it.” Decker still stared at the money in his palm.

“Mr. Spencer I can’t take this-“ Mr. Spenser slowly closed Decker’s fingers around the cash. 

“Keep it. You of all people deserve it.” Decker nodded, a little pressure building behind his eyes.

“I’ll be back soon, with your monster's head in hand!” And he turned and left down the hall.

Ψᨒ↟↟𖤣𖥧ψᨒ↟↟𖤣𖥧ψᨒ↟↟𖤣𖥧ψᨒ↟↟𖤣𖥧ψᨒ↟↟𖤣𖥧ψᨒ↟↟𖤣𖥧ψ

All the construction men grabbed sack meals from the counter as they walked out, beckoning Decker to follow. They went around the side and soon came back with four horses, Decker guessed that there was a stable out back. The trouble was, there were four horses, and five men, not including Decker because he had his own horse. All the men except the cupid boy got on. “Who’s taking him?” The tallest man asked. No one said anything.

“I will.” said Decker, smiling down at the young man. “Wanna ride with a monster hunter boy?” The golden haired boy smiled and nodded. Decker grabbed his forearm and hauled him up onto the saddle. “Go ahead and put your lunch in one of the saddle bags. It’ll be safe as long as you close the clasp correctly.” The young man nodded, looking back at Decker once he was done. “You might want to hold onto my waist for some stability, Bolt can get a little bumpy sometimes.” The young man let out a little laugh and wrapped his arms gently around Decker’s waist. 

“Alright let’s go!” The twin with the scar called, urging his horse forward and breaking into a canter. 

“Um, are we supposed to be going that fast as well?”

“Huh? No, the boys just like to go fast. It’ll be ok if we’re slower.” 

“Alright then.” Decker said, clicking his tongue to urge Bolt forward. Unlike the other horses’ canters, Bolt broke into a slow trot, almost a brisk walk. Decker would’ve usually called him lazy, but with the extra weight of another man he could understand. “So what’s your name, boy?” Decker asked as they exited the small town to some large rolling hills. 

“Names Valentine. Valentine Calvert.” His voice came out soft and smooth, Decker could tell he was smiling behind him.

“Valentine, huh? That’s a mighty pretty name, boy.” 

“Thank you, sir.” 

“No need to call me sir, boy. You can call me Wyatt, or Decker, whatever you prefer.”

“Oh, ok, Wyatt.” Decker liked the way his last name was said by the boy. He made it sound like he was a person, not some legends that most people took him to be.

“Say, I don’t mean to be rude, but would your pretty name have something to do with that mark over your eye?”

“Oh, the birthmark?” Valentine laughed, “It has everything to do with my name. My parents weren’t exactly creative. Just saw the heart and thought ‘hm, what’s something that has hearts? Valentine’s!’ And that’s how I got my name.” The boy laughed again, a sound that vibrated against Wyatt’s back. “I like my name, but some make fun of me for it because it’s too ‘girly’, but I don’t think it’s girly, is it?” 

“Nah boy, I think it’s a mighty fine name, mighty pretty too.” He looked back at Valentine, letting out a laugh with a grin on his face when he saw the young boy's expression. They rode on in silence for awhile, but every once and awhile there was a *crunch crunch*. Decker first thought it was just the ground Bolt tread upon, but soon realized that the sound was quite random. He spun around so that his spine gave a satisfying *pop*. “Boy, are you eating something?”

There was a long silence. “Yes sir- I mean Wyatt.” 

“Whatever it is smells…funny. Like sweet but sour at the same time.” 

“Well they’re dried fruits. Mostly raspberries, strawberries, and blueberries. Would you like some?”

“Sure,” Decker said, putting his hand behind him. A few seconds later a small sack was put in his hand, it made a small *crunch* as his fingers closed around the little bag. Once he had the bag around him, he looked down to see a small sack made of burlap and tied with a little leather string. He untied it gingerly, revealing a small pile of little dried fruits. “Thanks kid.” 

“I’m not a kid-“ 

“How old are ya anyways?” 

“I’m twenty-five, turning twenty-six this summer.”

“Wow, you were named Valentine but you weren’t born in February?” He laughed.

He could feel the glare on his back. “That’s not funny.” 

“It was plenty funny boy.” He laughed again.

“It wasn’t.” 

“Oh cmon, it was. Just a little laugh?”

“HA, HA, HA.” He laughed flatly. Even though Decker couldn’t see his face he knew that it’d be as hard as stone.

“That’s a little better boy.” He said, smiling out at the hills surrounding them, putting a dried fruit in his mouth.

“I ain’t no boy-“

“You are to me.”

“Wow, then you must be old huh, Wyatt?” Decker’s face fell flat as he turned around. A smug grin was spreading across Valentine’s lips.

“I ain’t that old.”

“That’s what you think. You say I’m just a boy when I’m twenty-five, how old does that make you?”

“I’m thirty-five, we’re nine years apart.” He said with a grim face, the chuckle now out of his voice.

“Wow, so you’re like, a grandpa?” Valentine jabbed him in the ribs.

“Boy I ain’t that old!”

“And I ain’t that young!” They fell into silence. Wyatt slowly munched on his dried fruits, eyes looking up towards the clouds.

“Mighty nice today, in’it?”

“Yes sir, I love these kinds of days, just the right kinda weather. Say, that cloud looks like a horse-“

“You’re right-“ Decker’s smile was back again.

“And that one looks like a heart-“ he looked back at Valentine and grinned. The young man blushed bright red in return, causing his unusually pink birthmark to glow in the sunlight. Decker chuckled and turned around again. Bolt snorted in annoyance with the constantly shifting weight on his back. “Sorry boy,” he said, patting the brown coat, “you’re doin good.” Bolt snorted again, but sounded a little happier this time, Decker chuckled.

“Say, where’d ya get this mighty fine horse anyways?” 

“Oh, I wrangled him. I had bought a few horses before but none of them were for me. Too skittish or not built up enough. But find yourself a wild horse and break him? Now that’s a good horse, muscular and fearless… well mostly. The sprites freak him out a bit.”

“The… sprites?”

“Oh yea, I forgot, you’re a normal person. Yea, you see them sometimes if you’re far enough from civilization. They’re harmless really, come in all kinds of colors, make cute little noises too.” Decker grinned at the memory of searching for sprites with his parents when he was a little boy. As silence engulfed the pair once more, Decker hummed some unknown tune, running his hands through his hair to brush out the sweat. This was the first time Decker had rode with someone in awhile, and he had to admit that he enjoyed the company greatly. It got pretty lonely sometimes all by himself, and was worse when he was stuck with his thoughts… He shook his head, trying to clear the oncoming dark cloud. He let out a sigh and let his back slump. He dropped the reins and let Bolt trot on. Bolt took the opportunity to relax as well, stretching his head long and low. 

“You ok Wyatt?”

“Huh?” Decker forgot he had someone with him. “Oh, yea, it’s just been awhile since I’ve gotten to relax. Also the first time in a while that I’ve had someone to talk to while I ride.” He let his shoulders roll forward.

“Well we’ve got all day, you can bring your horse to a stop if ya want.” Wyatt gladly did so, closing his eyes to rest. He bent over and hugged Bolt around the neck.

“You’re a good boy. A good, good, boy.” He smiled, eyes still closed. He rubbed and patted Bolt’s neck and shoulder. He started to hum again, this time to the tune he’d known since his childhood. His mother loved the song, it always reminded him of her. As he kept humming, he could imagine the two of them sitting on the porch of their home, waiting for his father to return home. He intended to stay stuck in thought, but a voice slowly and gently pulled him out of his thoughts of childhood.

“... to cry their troubles away…” It was Valentine, “... Where the broken hearts stay…” his voice sweet and soft. Decker turned his head to face him, singing the next verse.

“And the only price you pay…”

The next verse they sang together, “... Is a heart full of tears…”. They kept singing together, their voices rising and dropping in unison. “...goin down to lonesome town… to cry my troubles away…” Decker saw a warmness fill Valentine’s eyes, like he had found the deep pain that slowly churned in the pit of Decker’s stomach, “... maybe down in lonesome town… I can learn to forget…”. They smiled at each other warmly, Decker finally feeling as though he finally found someone who understood. “... maybe down in lonesome town… I can learn to forget…”. 

The pair grinned at each other as the last words were sung out to the world, then sank into the earth. Wyatt looked at Valentine, trying to figure the boy out. “How do ya know that song boy?” 

Valentine looked out. “I know it’s a mighty old song but it’s written on my Ma’s grave. I guess she used to sing that song to me when I was a baby. I remember her singing it to me a few times in my early childhood. Mostly when I was sad.” He turned back to Decker, his eyes a little glossy, “it makes me feel many emotions when I sing it or hear it ya know? But it brings her back to me, just for a short moment, but that’s all I need.” 

Decker nodded, understanding completely. “My mom used to sing it to me too. Well, we sang it together when we waited for my dad to come home from a monster hunt. She said she always sang it just in case he died on the job, her way of sending him off.” He thought fondly of the memories, but then his brown and blue eyes clouded over, “But she never really did get to sing it to him to send him off…she died before she could-“ his voice cracked and broke, he buried his face into Bolt’s coat. “They never got to say goodbye to each other-“ He tried to laugh but it came out as a dry, sad sound.

He felt a big warm hand be placed on his back, “Are you okay Wyatt?” Wyatt pursed his lips, he had said too much.

“I’m fine boy, just fine.” He looked out towards the landscape.

Valentine pursed his lips, not knowing what to say. “I’m sorry you lost your family-“ he said quietly.

“I’m sorry you lost part of yours.”

“It’s ok, I had a good few years with my mom. She died when I was five, some sort of sickness ya know. But before the bug took hold of her I remember her in the garden, or her holding me and singing to me. Playing while hanging up the wash. Nothing big really, just day to day activities, but it’s more than enough for me.” There was a smile in his voice. He rubbed his hand in a circle over Decker’s back. “But I fear your parents were taken from you-“ Decker sucked in his breath hard through his teeth. “Sorry, sorry, I didn’t mean to pry-“

“It’s ok boy, I’ve just never told anybody. Well anyone that I didn’t have to. Authorities knew-“ his breath hitched. Valentine’s hand did another circle. “Twenty years and you’d think that the wound would’ve healed.”

“Well it can’t exactly heal if you avoid it. Like if you avoid a big cut; it’ll probably get infected or something.” He shrugged, trying to explain.

He sighed again. “I want to tell somebody but I don’t want anyone to know that weakness-“

“You can tell whoever you want to, it’s your story and history, you get to choose how it’s told.” Valentine grinned kindly, Decker returned the grin. 

Decker looked at the ground below, watching little mice go by every once in a while. He turned and looked back at Valentine. He forced his eyes shut, this is a bad idea, he thought. “Did you ever hear of the Fleetwood triplets, or anything to that name?”

Valentine’s skin prickled. “Yea, I’ve heard of it happening before I was born though. I only heard it because my dad kept ‘important newspapers’, happened upon it when I was around eleven I think?” Decker’s eyes were still scrunched closed.

“Were there any…follow up papers, like was there a whole stack of em?” 

Valentine nodded, “about twenty to twenty-five papers, not always front page news, sometimes just a few clippings. I didn’t look through them all though, just a few before I put them away.” Decker nodded, opening his eyes to look out at the hills. His eyes were glassy and distant, like he was filing through painful memories.

He shut his eyes tight again, inhaled, then exhaled, then opened his eyes and looked back out. “Those last two papers in that stack should’ve been about my family-“ he finally said, his voice changing in tone, his chuckle was gone. Valentine Calvert was silent, he really didn’t know what to say, how could anyone respond to that? He started with a question.

“Were the triplets part of your family?” Wyatt shook his head.

“Nah, we were victims of them-”

“Victims? But they were just babies when they died-” Wyatt let out a sad and sorrowful chuckle.

“They might have died as babies, but restless souls can kill you in an instant if they wished to-”

“Wyatt-?” Of course any normal person would be confused.

“Let meet give you a brief lesson boy; if a life is taken too suddenly or too early, it has a harder time passing onto the other side… wherever it’s supposed to go. They get almost stuck and the spirit shifts into something else, some sort of monster-” Wyatt looked out again, sitting back up in his saddle but letting the reins droop still. He inhaled, then exhaled, and then told his story. 

“Before I was born a man had moved into town, some sort of inventor, was a pretty closed off fella. That is until he met Odette, the daughter of some farmer in that town. They fell head over heels in love for each other, that was for sure. He treated her like royalty, buying, making, or doing anything that her little heart desired. A few years later they got married. A few years after that, before I was even born, they decided to have children of their own, and a few months later Odette was pregnant with their first child. I never remember the man’s name, we all just called him ‘Fleetwood’. Anyways, a while later she was ready to give birth, but there were complications. Not only was this her first child, but she was a petite and young woman. The doctors also assumed that she was carrying more than one baby. All of this was just a recipe for disaster as I’d later hear it to be called. The birth was hard and it drained her body of all energy. Her husband stayed by her side, but even with his and doctor’s support, it wasn’t enough. She died an awful death, but they said she died with a weary smile on her face, saying that she was glad that this sacrifice was for the ability for their children to be alive. Once she had died, the doctors opened her up, right in front of Fleetwood, and pulled out two more babies. In the end they ended up having triplet girls. The doctors however made the mistake of commenting that if the couple had waited just a few more years, Odette would’ve probably lived, and this tore her husband apart.” He still looked out, his brown-blue eyes clouding over. “Instead of seeing his three children as a part of his now deceased wife, he saw them as a reminder of the very thing that took her away.” He sighed, “He absolutely despised them, and didn't want anything to do with them. Sure he’d change and feed them, but that was all. But soon even that was too much for him, so he neglected them entirely. The babies soon began to cry, as any neglected child would. This drove Fleetwood to madness; all he could hear was his wife screaming. After days of this he decided to do something about it-“

“He killed them-“ Valentine said quietly. Decker looked at him and nodded, the dark cloud consuming him. 

“He drowned the first one; put her in a bag and chucked her over the stone bridge. Awful way to die; she sank to the bottom and was never found. The only thing left was a little brown sack.” He closed his eyes, “He killed the second girl by leaving her out for days, first by his house, but he could still hear her scream. So he took her and left her in the woods. All they found was her little blanket later.” He sighed and swallowed, when he opened his eyes they were misty. “He hung the last one in a tree, and just left her little corpse hanging after. Authorities found only the rope weeks later. It was weird that there was nothing really left from the girls. That should’ve been everyone’s warning- When the town found out what happened they were furious. They hung Fleetwood and threw him in a simple grave. They put three little crosses for the babies right next to the mother’s grave, but we’re unmarked because the babies had never been given names.” He closed his eyes and felt the smooth gait of Bolt’s walk. Both men were quiet for a while. Decker tried to grin, “Some of us kids would go to the cemetery and leave pretty little rocks at the girls' crosses, just to give them a little something nice, which they had never got.”

“I remember reading something about that, kids leaving little gifts at the graves.”

“Yea, the town has done that ever since; it was the tragedy of that little town. After everyone had been laid to rest, we thought that’d be the end of the horrors, and we were right, for a few months at least, then weird things started happening. Chickens and other little animals would go missing. We thought nothing of it, animals like that go missing all the time. It started to worry us though when the animals were being killed. Before they had disappeared, now there were signs left behind. Blood, feathers, fur, stuff like that. Then…the animals were being slaughtered. They weren’t being eaten or anything, killed for sport is what it looked like. I wanted to stay by the animals and wait for the thing to come, I thought it was a raccoon or coyote. But my dad had given me a firm “no”, I didn’t realize it at the time but it wasn’t just some animal doing this. It started moving to bigger prey, goats, sheep, and a few dogs too. Then it killed a horse and we knew we really had something on our hands.” He laughed at his childhood naïveness, remembering how he had stood with his little pistol and satchel in hand, saying that he would kill the monster. His father had shook his head and had taken away his things, saying it was not safe. “The second we knew something was wrong was when this thing, whatever it was, was starting to prey on kids. Animals didn’t do that. No kids were killed, just lured to the outskirts of town, or scratched by whatever it was. They weren’t little scratches however, they were deep and big, all turning into massive scars. Then it really harmed a kid, taking off the poor kid's leg. After that families started to move away, especially once a pregnant woman was attacked. This wasn’t a town for children and families anymore. My father didn’t move us though, he thought he could track and kill this thing, even though it had been terrorizing my home town for longer than I had been alive. 

I grew up as a lonely child, ever since I was six there were no more children to play with. So I just went exploring myself. Play in the woods, practice to be the next monster hunter...” He smiled at memories of him falling when the momentum of the scythe was too great for him to handle. “A few times I heard the thing. Most kids and parents said that our monster sounded like a child giggling, a dog growling, or a baby crying. I could be deep in the woods and hear a baby crying, that’s when I knew it was time to go. My father taught me if you ever hear any non-woodsy noises in the woods, run like hell and don’t look back. There’s things in there that try to lure you by latching on to human kindness.” That was Wyatt’s weakness- “This thing laughed like a child or growled like a dog to attract a child's attention, to get it alone to go in for the kill. It cried and screamed like a baby to get a parent's attention, to either lure it away from an unprotected child or lure a woman with child. I was also taught that monsters that are able to imitate human noises were once human as well, a human soul morphed and gone dark. After a while, once all but my family had gone, the monster went as well. It no longer had a food source, so we thought it just moved to another town. My father hunted it but could never find it. No matter how hard he tried. After years of no action, my parents decided to try for another child. They fell pregnant with my little sister.” He let out a sigh, this was always the hardest part of the story. “There were signs it was coming back, my father tried to hunt the monster but nothing was working. I begged for us to move but my mother and father said I was worrying too much. My father would find it and kill it before the baby came. But how could he? He had been searching for over twenty years at this point, what would a few months do?” He let out a breath as he felt his airway close up, he hated this part so much.

Valentine put a hand on his shoulder. “It’s ok Wyatt, you don’t need to finish this story if you don’t want to-“

“No, no, I need to. I need to finish this story. It was the day before my fifthteenth birthday, I went out to play for hours, and came back late. I went straight to sleep, I was so tired-“ his eyes scrunched tighter, as he spoke, the scene from twenty years ago played in his mind. “There was a loud bang in the early morning, must’ve been about three. I remember sitting up from my bed, looking around confused. As I sat, I could hear massive feet or something walking across the floorboards in the living room. That’s when I realized I had forgotten to lock the door the night before when I had come in. My mom had always told me to lock it but I was always to stupid to remember- The thing was sniffing around. At first I thought a burglar had gotten in, but then I heard a monstrous growl and I knew it was the monster. I grabbed my pistol and scampered under my bed, just waiting for it to walk through my bedroom door.

But it walked past- So beautiful yet so deadly, that’s how most monsters are. It was dog-like and massive, it had three heads and it looked like it was made of some sort of glowing water. It was so beautiful that I just wanted to reach out and touch. As I was about to, common sense kicked in, it’d certainly detect the movement, it’d kill me in an instant, my bed would be no protection if it pounced. It walked calmly, but sniffed around, looking for its prey. As it walked towards my parents room I realized what its prey was; my mom. The gunshot came before the howl and the scream. My dad had been waiting for the monster to attack, must’ve got into position while the thing was sniffing round the house. He shot at it again, the noise ringing in my ear. The three headed dog growled and lunged towards my mothers scream, she was still in the bedroom. It crashed through the door, the lock that had been in place was useless. All I remember was a silence before I heard the worst screams you’ve ever imagined. I stayed hidden with my eyes closed shut, I wanted it all to be some nightmare. But it wasn’t. Everything started to spin; crashes, bangs, screams, growls. Last thing I saw was my dad flying through the hallway. The screaming continued, then there was a yowl. The silence consumed the house. I lay in wait for a while. Five minutes had gone by. I wanted to stay under my bed forever but then I remembered my mom. Suddenly I didn’t care about my safety and ran for my parents room, pistol in hand. The sight was…” he closed his eyes and swallowed, his windpipe was getting tighter and it was hard to breathe. It was painful, the images that flashed in his head. Valentine’s hand gave a reassuring squeeze of the shoulder. “There was a blanket on the floor, and it moved ever so slightly. There was a wet, bone rattling cough that came from within the blanket. I slid on my knees and gently removed the blanket. My mom lay there, body covered in massive gashes, the worst part was her ripped open stomach. She stared up at me, and opened her mouth to say something. Blood poured out in what seemed like gallons.

I slowly sat down next to her, propping her head up so she wouldn’t drown in her own blood. She looked up at me, the corners of her eyes clouding. ‘Wyatt?’ She asked while looking up at me.

‘I’m here mom, you’re gonna be ok.’ I remember her giving out a little laugh and looking down at her abdomen.

‘I’m afraid I won’t be Decker, the wounds are too deep and bleeding too fast.’ I remember arguing with her, saying that if we just moved fast enough she and the baby might both survive. ‘Oh Wyatt, you’re such a good boy, but we both know it's too late.’ I argued that it wasn’t, that it’d all be ok. ‘Son, you know the baby is already gone, the wounds are too deep for her to survive,’ she coughed. ‘I’ll bleed out before we can get to a doctor.’ She had smiled sadly at me, and touched my face, wiping away the tears. ‘You’ll go far my sunshine, you’re so talented.’ I cried. ‘No, no, baby, don’t cry, it’s gonna be ok. You’re such a strong young man.’

‘But dad said I’m not a Wyatt-‘

I remember the sudden fire in her eyes, almost burning the growing cloudiness away. ‘Don’t pay attention to what your dad said. You are a strong hunter and an amazing boy. Don’t let anyone make you think otherwise. You’ll be amazing-’ I remember holding her hand to my cheek, tears still pouring down, I knew I had to say goodbye. As I sat there the floorboards creaked ever so slightly, moving up the walls and to the ceiling. She looked at me, the fierceness still in her eyes, but slowly clouding over. ‘The monster still knows you’re here Wyatt, go now before it gets you too.’

‘No, I’m not leaving you here by yourself, especially if it comes back-‘

She grabbed my arm as hard as she could ‘baby, I’m not a monster hunter like you but I know a few things. All it wants to do is cause destruction and pain, it doesn’t want to eat- It just kills because it wants to. I know you have a big heart Decker, use it to help it move on. I don’t think your dad is able to do it. He’s not able to make that connection that you can, use that to your advantage sunshine.’

‘But he hates me for my big heart,’ I remember crying. She said it was a gift that I have, the rarest, rarer than the gift of a monster hunter.

‘Sunshine,’ she coughed again, more blood spilling out. ‘I’m afraid I don’t have much more time left-‘ I cradled her head and told her it was gonna be ok. The house shuddered again, the monster knew I was there and that I was hurting. ‘Cmon baby,’ she urged me ‘get out of here, grow strong and become the amazing man you’re meant to be.’ I told her I wouldn’t leave her. We sat there a few minutes, her breath was heavy and she was slowly drowning in her own blood. It spilled from her abdomen anytime her chest rose and fell. The house creaked and groaned, it sounded like it’d cave in on us, there was still no sign of my dad. As we sat there, my face buried in her neck, she began to sing. ‘You are my sunshine…my only- sunshine…you make me happy…when skies are gray…’ I began to cry again, I knew this was her way of saying goodbye. I decided to join in to help her finish the song. ‘If you don’t know dear…how much I love you…’

Her voice dropped off and I watched her eyes cloud over. I decided to finish the song for her ‘… please don’t take my sunshine away…’ I tried to smile as her dimming eyes looked for me.

‘Happy Birthday Decker Wyatt, I love you.’ Was the last thing she said to me before she died in my arms… I remember sitting there, tears streaming down my face as I stared at her face. As I sat there the creaking and groaning kept on, the walls slowly caving in on me. As the boards started to break, I kissed my mom on the forehead and left…” Valentine watched him with glassy eyes. Decker Wyatt could feel the small tears on his cheeks, wiping them away with his bandanna. 

“I walked down the hallway, the creaking and groaning following me with every step, crying as I carefully searched the house for my father. As I walked into the living room I was met with a mess, everything overturned and destroyed. As I surveyed the area, I guessed he was near the growing pool of blood on the ground near the couch. I carefully crept over, getting on my knees to get behind the couch. Behind it was my dad. He was bleeding from the head and his right arm was torn off completely. As I sat there and looked at him I could tell he’d die from blood loss just as my mom had. I think I was engulfed in silence for a moment. The thought of losing both parents and my unborn sister was too much for my head to understand or handle. My dad's voice brought me out of the rapidly growing dark place. ‘What are ya doin here boy?’ I remember him saying gruffly, ‘Where’s your mom?’

‘Dead.’ I remember the silence after being too painful to bear. He looked at me with hard, crystal blue eyes. He looked down and then away from me, I’m pretty sure I did the same. ‘I’m sorry dad.’

He only grunted. We didn’t say anything after. He laid there, the blood gushing. The house shuddered once again, some boards creaked and snapped, splinters showering our backs. ‘It knows you're still here son, it knows that a child is still alive’

I growled, ‘Ever think it’s angry because I’m a monster hunter?’ I remember he looked at me, crystal eyes ablaze, but not like my mom’s had been. 

‘You think it’s actually afraid of something like you?’ He had grabbed my arm and blood dripped down my bicep. ‘You’re weak, you’re nothing compared to it.’

‘I am a monster hunter-’

‘YOU ARE NOT A MONSTER HUNTER! YOU NEVER WERE ONE AND NEVER WILL BE! YOUR JUST A WEAK LITTLE BOY THAT ONLY LISTENS TO HIS HEART AND NEVER HIS HEAD! YOU’RE-’

‘I AM A MONSTER HUNTER, DAD!’ I remember that the house had shuddered with that announcement.

‘But your heart-’

‘Is too big for my own good and will get me killed, right? But maybe that’s the only thing that will stop this thing-’ The house shuddered like the earth was about to swallow it whole.

I remember what my dad looked like in his dying moments. Pale as the moon, a snarl on his face. ‘That is the stupidest idea I’ve ever heard, even from you. Decker Wyatt, you’ll never be a Wyatt!’ And that was the kindest thing he could muster with his last breath-” Valentine and Wyatt exhaled in unison.

“Your father was a terrible man wasn’t he?”

Wyatt laughed, it was fake compared to all his others “I don’t know how a man so awful got a name as grand as ‘Greatest Monster Hunter of America’. Like I was saying however-'' Valentine nodded, urging him on. He was completely consumed but could see the top of the hotel come into view. “I remember staring at my father’s body. Those words still haunt me ya know? But I had to get rid of the beast, and my heart was the only way. I ripped the leather cord with a key off his neck, it would open the magical locks he had put on his office- But the door was hard to open even with a key, it was thick and heavy, making a loud groan as it opened. I was always told to never enter the office, so for a moment I stood in amazement of the contents that had been hidden from me all my life. A large map covered one wall; the whole map of america. It was covered in red push pins and string. There was also writing and photos scattered about. Beside a large desk was a box filled with miscellaneous paper clippings. The desk itself held more maps and notes, and a leather notebook sat atop of the mess. On the opposite walls were all sorts of weapons and chests. But I was looking for one thing in particular. On a simple mantel, my father’s Scythe sat in all its lonesome glory. The weapon was beautiful, shining in some unknown light. Actually it was shining from within, its power was that great. I remember gently grabbing it, the handle instantly molding to my touch. It pulsed with power and a coolness that's hard to explain- sending vibrations through my hand and up my arm, all the way to my heart and spreading across my back. My whole body seemed to hum with some sort of wakening power. I chose to test its weight, making a small ark from my left to my right. The house suddenly shuddered violently, so much so that the light above broke. The monster was not happy that I had awakened the now usable power inside of me.

As that house began to quake the scythe glowed brighter. I felt as the power crawled back down from my spine and felt as it swirled and squeezed against my heart. The house was shaking violently at this point, so much so that I could barely stand on my own two feet. ‘You don’t like this thing do you?’ I asked the house. I knew it wasn’t the house, it was the monster, close enough so that its emotions flowed through matter. I knew the monster would destroy the house if I didn’t act fast. I needed to act fast but didn’t know what to do with the scythe, then I remembered a trick I’d seen my dad do thousands of times. I grasped the scythe tightly and reached behind my back, and felt as my spine grew warm, then opened-”

Valentine gasped, “YOUR SPINE OPENED?”

 Decker Wyatt laughed for real this time,“and in went the scythe. It is an odd feeling but now it feels more odd without it there.” He patted his back where the scythe went. “So, I ran to a coat rack, grabbing my father’s satchel. He had a few and each I stuffed to the brim with whatever I could find in the office. After securing each pack, I ran to the hallway, found a window to open and threw the packs out. As I threw out the last two, images of my mom and dad played through my head. I stopped as I went to throw the last bag out. Was I really going to be able to kill this thing? Or would I end up like the rest of my family? I could’ve jumped through the window and run, I don’t know how far I could’ve gotten but it was an option. But there was an urge to kill the thing, I knew more families would end like mine if I did nothing. Plus there was also something pulling me towards the monster, a new sort of connection. I looked out the window, then turned away. I thought if I left it open I’d have some sort of escape if things got bad. 

I stood my ground as the house rumbled with the monster's rage, splinters flying as I reached behind my back. As my hand wrapped around the handle, everything seemed to stop, ‘You’re scared of this huh? You know I can take you out with this.’ I was eerily quiet but all I could do was feel my body pulse with the once doormat power. It pumps through your veins and through your limbs, then your hands and feet, then earth, air, water, fire, and scythe are left to consume it.”

“Consume?” Valentine was eager for the end.

“Yes, some say they can feel a sort of power glow off of me when I have scythe in hand, even when I’m without it. It sort of scatters out into the world.”

“That sounds incredible.”

“It is. It also feels incredible. You’re a source of power in the world. Problem is you need to control it so that it doesn’t rot you out and make you bad.”

“Bad?”

“Yea, evil or whatever you wanna call it. Corruption is what I call it, I know there’s individuals who are able to do that. Anyhow, back to my story, yes?”

“Yes, definitely.” Valentine looked at Wyatt with intense eyes that made something in his stomach turn. 

“The power can make you light as a feather or weigh you down like a million bricks. My dad never once let me touch a scythe, so I had no idea how to find a nice medium. How I could feel human while filled with so much power. I remember the last shudders of the house as the monster appeared from the hallway, it had been in my room looking for me. At that moment I felt like those million bricks, but I couldn’t let that stop me. I moved the scythe in a slow ark like I was taught, a white glow shadowing my movements. The monster snarled and barked a warning, building up power in its hind legs. But as I watched it, I realized something that I hadn’t before- Something my father or any other men in my bloodline had ever noticed. A glowing red heart- three to be exact. They beat strong even in death, and in that moment I knew the monster had to be created from the triplets. 

It lunged at me, I think because it knew I had figured out its identity-

Out of all my training throughout the years I did the one thing you weren’t supposed to do, and I apologized. ‘I’m sorry’ I whispered as I brought the scythe down, tears in my eyes.”

Wyatt blinked as they stood before the new hotel- “The wind howled like a beast in pain that night- but I had finally done it, set many things in pain- free. But the wind still howled- It howled for a lot of days and nights after too.” 

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