Greg Krojac - WTF?

A remote voice spoke into the reporter’s earpiece.

“You can’t say that. There might be kids watching.”

The presenter shook his head in irritation and then started over.

A number of animals have gone to Heaven. It looks like a larger animal, about the size of a big cat, may be responsible. Please keep pets and children indoors.

Tracey looked at her husband

“A big cat? Haven’t there been sightings of pumas recently? Perhaps one of them is in the area.”

Trevor googled Big Cats in the UK on his mobile phone.

“There’ve been seven reported sightings this year so far. But they’re in the West Country, Wales, and Scotland. I’d be surprised if they managed to travel this far without being seen and captured.”

Tracey went back to her sudoku puzzle and Trevor let his eyes close in the hope of snatching forty winks. Only Arnold felt compelled to continue watching the news report.

Things were going well for Arnold. Regular make-up adjustments and his new eye had improved his confidence. He was no longer afraid to go out in public, to places where there might be crowds. One Sunday, he even went down to the local shopping precinct for a stroll.

Arnold and Adrienne became kind of an item. She wasn’t a proper girlfriend – there were limits to what they could do together – but they were as close as two people could be without consummating their relationship. Passersby just thought they were an odd couple, she full-on Goth and he some kind of weird punk-looking guy.

The best day they shared was a picnic by the river. Of course, it wasn’t a regular picnic; how could a picnic between a Goth and a zombie be anything but abnormal? Adrienne made black pudding sandwiches and teacakes topped off with black icing. Even the jelly she brought along was black. Arnold sincerely thought it looked good enough to eat but, alas, he couldn’t join in the feast and could only enjoy the food by proxy, watching Adrienne eat.

The last four weeks had been positively wonderful. Maybe being a zombie vampire wasn’t so bad after all.

Ronnie Williams’s mother, Clarice, tucked him into bed that night just as she did every other night, as did hundreds of thousands of mothers of ten-year-old boys around the world.

Getting him to go to bed at a decent time was always a battle for her – Ronnie was quite a headstrong lad and always wanted an extra few minutes playing video games – but this particular night he’d been uncharacteristically pliant, hardly able to keep his eyes open. Clarice thanked her god for small mercies and requested that her son could feel sleepy a little earlier in future.

At around 2 am, Ronnie woke up with a start, and sat bolt upright in bed. He wasn’t prone to nightmares but that wasn’t the reason he awoke – he’d set the alarm on his phone to go off at that time so that he could meet up with his best friend, Jimmy Finnegan. Together, the two boys were going to have an adventure.

Ronnie and Jimmy had everything planned. They’d meet by the Great Oak tree in the middle of the woods at 02:15. Then they’d see if they could spot any rabbits. The boys didn’t want to hurt them; they just wanted to take photos. They were learning about nocturnal animals at school and found it hard to believe that some creatures slept during the day and were awake at night. Jimmy had a pet rabbit called Sandy and that rabbit was awake during the day. So they wanted proof that wild rabbits were awake at night.

Ronnie hurriedly got dressed and grabbed his small backpack. He’d already put a few things inside, including two Mars Bars (one for him and one for Jimmy) and a torch. It was a full moon, but he knew that sometimes clouds could cover the moon, shutting off its light, so they needed backup illumination just in case.

The challenge now was to get out of the house without waking his mum. He was reasonably confident that the doors wouldn’t squeak and give the game away, as he’d oiled the hinges with 3-In-One the day before. He carried his shoes in his right hand and went as far as the front door, tiptoeing in his stockinged feet.

So far, so good. He could hear his mother snoring upstairs. Just the front door stood between him and the great adventure.

He cautiously slid the bolts that provided extra overnight security, turned the door handle, and the door silently eased open, just enough for him to pass through. Holding his breath, he took a step outside. The first part of his mission was almost over. He inserted the spare key that his mother kept in a kitchen drawer into the lock and pulled the door closed, turning the key slightly as he did so, so as not to let the latch click and alert his mother that something was amiss. He’d be back within the hour so she’d never know that he’d gone out unless she checked the bolts whilst he was out or went into his room to check on him. She was a deep sleeper, so he didn’t imagine she’d wake up until morning.

Once the door was safely closed, he put on his sneakers, tied the laces in a double bow, and trotted off in the direction of the Great Oak tree.

The beam of light from his torch flitted to and fro between the trees as he jogged through the woods. He wasn’t frightened – he wasn’t afraid of the dark and everybody knew that ghosts and monsters weren’t real. They were just actors wearing costumes or images created by using C.G.I.

He arrived at the Great Oak and checked the time on his phone. It was 02:17 and he was only two minutes late. Jimmy hadn’t arrived yet. It was certainly an impressive tree and seemed to have thousands of branches and millions of leaves, but Ronnie knew that thousands and millions were very big numbers – numbers that he couldn’t possibly imagine – so the number of branches and leaves had to be fewer than that. He would love to climb the tree but even the lowest branch was too high for him to reach. He’d have to grow a bit before he could even contemplate such a climb.

He checked his phone again. 02:19. Jimmy was four minutes late now. One minute more and he’d be officially late (according to Clarice’s timekeeping rules).

Suddenly Ronnie felt intense pressure bearing down on his face like a grown-up was pushing down on it. But this force was far greater than any adult could exert. He tried to look at whatever was attacking him, but his vision was clouded by a red mist which, had he realised that it was his own blood, would have terrified him even more.

The boy was engulfed by panic, fear, and terror as whoever or whatever was attacking him sliced through tissue, meat, muscles, and tendons as a hot knife passes through butter. He couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t do anything. He wanted to scream but all he could muster was a whimper.

Then all went dark and the pain went away.

The next day, Trevor and Tracey were snuggled up in bed watching the morning news on TV. The mood of the newscaster turned sombre as his teleprompter fed him its breakfast content.

Early this morning, the body of an unidentified boy was found by the Great Oak in Silvestre Woods. Police are withholding any more information until the parents have been informed but, as soon as more details are released, we’ll let you know, However, reputable sources say that the police do not suspect foul play.

Tracey felt an urge to hold her husband even tighter.

“I feel for the poor parents of that boy. Imagine waking up to a beautiful sunny and crisp winter’s day like today, to be told that your son – your child – has been killed. It’s just too horrible to think about.”

Trevor nodded and pulled his wife even closer.

Trevor called out to Tracey as he looked inside the refrigerator.