Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

“Are we almost there?” The voice of Gage Cain rang out from the backseat.

Dan smiled into the rearview mirror, “Very soon, Gage. Just a few more minutes. Right sweetie?”

Megan Cain glanced at the paper map she was holding, then out the windshield, and back at the map. “If I’ve been reading this thing right, we’re only a few blocks away.”

“Well, I sure hope you have.” Dan looked back at Gage “I hope mommy hasn’t been taking us the wrong way these past six hours.” Meg swatted at Dan’s arm, making Gage laugh.

A few minutes later, Dan pulled the Station Wagon into a dirt driveway in front of a tall, yellow house. “Home sweet home.” Announced Meg, “Ready to look around?”

Gage bounced in his seat excitedly, Dan could barely undo his seatbelt with how much the kid was wiggling. “Easy there champ, you want to get out, don’t you?”

“Yeah!”

Dan lifted him out of the car and set him down on the grassy lawn. Gage had his mother’s blonde hair and blue eyes, but Dan could see a lot of his own personality in the kid. Gage would be three in a couple months, but he was smart for his age. He walked and talked very early on. Meg had commented that he was smart enough to become a doctor “just like his daddy.” Dan secretly hoped not.

“Honey, come help me get Rufus, he keeps moving around in his carrier!” Meg called from the back of the car.

“Go look around the yard Gage, just stay away from the road.”

Gage wandered toward a tire swing in a tree by the front window. Dan went around to the open trunk, taking the carrier from Meg. He grunted as Rufus immediately began to thrash around again. “It’s okay Rufus. No more car rides from now on. We’re all done.”
Rufus yowled in response. Meg frowned, “Think we can let him out of the crate and just carry him inside? He’s so sick of that dang thing.”

“I guess it couldn’t hurt.” Dan set the carrier back in the trunk and undid the latch. Immediately, the cat bolted. Dan shouted as Rufus sped past him and began to run toward the bushes beside the house. Meg and Dan took off after him, as Rufus bounded for freedom. Dan had just gotten to his knees in front of the bushes, about to grab the damn cat, when Meg suddenly shouted.

“Gage, no!”

Dan stopped his pursuit and whipped around to see Gage toddling toward the road, the roar of a truck filling the air. For a minute, his heart stopped. Then, he leaped into action. He sprinted toward the road, panic rushing through him. Then, Gage was scooped up away from the danger and placed gingerly into Meg’s arms.

“I believe your child was almost hit by a truck.”

Dan nodded, open mouthed and panting. He exhaled the adrenaline that had been coursing through his veins, and looked at the stranger who was standing, arms crossed, by the car. He was short, not even taller than Meg. He wore black pants, a white shirt, a black tie, thick glasses, and a deep scowl. His short brown hair had flecks of grey, and there was just a hint of stubble on his jaw.

“Thank you so much mister…”

“West. Herbert West.” He uncrossed his arms, walked past the shell-shocked Meg, and held out a hand to Dan. “And you are?”

“Uh, Dan. Doctor Daniel Cain.”

“A doctor. Well, isn’t that nice. Are you here to work at Miskatonic?”

“Yeah. Miskatonic University. I’ll be teaching.”

“What’s your specialty?”

“Pediatric emergency.”

“Hm.” Mr. West seemed disappointed in his answer. Despite rescuing Gage, it seemed he had no love for children.

“Well, uh, this is my wife Meg, and our son Gage.”

West turned to look at Gage, who was looking around – seemingly only slightly shaken – in his mother’s arms. “We’ve met.”

“So, where do you live?”

“I’m next door.” He gestured up the road to a dark, rundown house, with a porch overgrown by vines. “How old is your Gage?”

Maybe he didn’t mind kids after all. “Almost three. But he’s smart. Talks like he’s four.”

“So he’s past the crying stage?”

“Um. He’s still a kid. He’s bound to cry occasionally.”

“Well, maybe I ought to invest in some sound proofing for my lab.”

Dan glanced at Meg, who was frowning uncomfortably.

“Well, the moving truck should be here any minute, and we still need to bring Rufus back inside so, we’ll get out of your hair.”

“Moving truck? See to it that it doesn’t hit your son.” With that, Mr. West nodded at Dan and brushed past Meg and Gage, stalking back to his own house, in what could have been a dark cloud of misery.

...

It had been two days since the Cains had moved into their new home, and Dan hadn’t seen any more of Herbert West so far. Dan was set to start working at the university come Monday, so he wanted to spend his next five days helping Meg set up the house, and keeping Gage entertained. Dan was glad to be out of the old apartment, especially because Gage loved the yard so much. Every chance he got, Gage would demand “Outside!” sometimes even running for the door in just his diaper, as Meg or Dan chased after him.

Currently, Dan was pushing Gage on the tire swing as the kid laughed uproariously demanding to go “Higher! Faster!” Dan stopped for a minute to rub at his sore arms and caught a glimpse of a familiar face looking at him from the neighboring porch.

“Morning Mr. West!”

“Mr. Cain.”

“Come on over, it’s nice and sunny.”

Mr. West frowned but came over anyway. He stood so that he was close to Dan, but out of range of the swing.

“It’s nice weather for November.”

“It seems so. And it’s Herbert, if you don’t mind.”

“Okay Herbert. I hope Gage hasn’t bothered you too much.”

“Lucky for him he hasn’t. Yet.”

Dan almost rolled his eyes, but he wanted to make a good impression on the man, show him that his family wasn’t all that bad. “I heard you mention a lab at some point when we met. What do you study in there?”

“Death.”

“Oh. That’s…interesting. Are you a mortician of some sort?”

“Just a student of the sciences. I used to go to Miskatonic, you know, but they weren’t ready for what I had to show them.”

Dan didn’t know what to say, so he kept pushing Gage on the swing.

“When do you start working?” Herbert asked, inching closer to Dan.

“Monday. Trying to spend time with my boy before I’m busy all the time. I hate leaving him, but it’s an important job, taking care of other kids like him.”

“The preservation of life. Of the innocent. It’s not easy work. I’m not surprised that someone like you would want to pursue that kind of career.”

“Someone like me?”

“Wide eyed and idealistic. You want to save everyone.”

“And what about people like you?”

“I could have saved people too. But the soulless minions of orthodoxy didn’t seem to understand my work.”

“Okay.” Dan was feeling quite uncomfortable, but he wanted to hear more. This Herbert was probably the strangest person he’d ever met, but he felt drawn to him in some way that was unfamiliar to him.

“Did you get your cat out of the bush?”

“Yup. Rufus is safe inside.”

“Rufus!” Yelled Gage, pointing at the house. Dan looked over to see the cat sitting in the window, it almost looked like Rufus was watching Gage.

“Gage and Rufus have been best buds since Gage was born. It’s pretty adorable. You know, I have pictures of Rufus sleeping next to baby Gage in his bassinet. I can show you sometime.”

Herbert wrinkled his nose. “I’ll pass.”

“I’m done.” Gage chirped. Dan slowed the swing and let the boy hop down. He went to the window and stood on his toes, trying to see through the window almost two feet above him. “Rufus! Wanna see my kitty cat!”

“You wanna see Rufus, huh?” Dan scooped up Gage and held him up to the window. Rufus rubbed his head against the glass, Dan swore he could hear him purring. He looked back to Herbert and smiled, “Cute, huh?”

“Sure.”

Dan put Gage back down and followed the boy as he made his way toward the back of the house, Herbert trailed behind. “Does Carl Hill still work at the University?” Herbert asked when he caught up with Dan.

“Maybe. I feel like I heard him mentioned. Is he a friend of yours?”

Herbert laughed. Dan realized it was the first time he’d seen the man smile so far. “He’s no friend of mine. He’s a disgusting, washed up, pig-headed, plagiarist!” Herbert’s cruel smile morphed into something of pure contempt. “The fact that that bastard still has a place there and not a genius like myself!”

“Watch your mouth around the kid please.” Dan decided not to question Herbert on his self-assigned genius.

“Of course, Daniel. Whatever you want.”

“Just Dan is fine.”

“Daddy!” Gage called out from a few paces ahead, “A path!”

Dan looked up, and saw there was indeed a dirt path, leading into the trees a few feet ahead. “Where does it go?” he asked Herbert.
“Somewhere special.” Herbert grinned at Dan, the sun bouncing off his glasses as if he had a particular gleam in his eyes. “I can take you.”

“I don’t see why not. I’ll get Meg, we can go together.”

Herbert’s smile vanished. “Fine. But it’s not too easy of a walk. She’ll want sensible shoes.”

“I’m sure we can find some. How about we go after lunch? We’ll meet back here at, let’s say, one?”

“I’ll be waiting.”

Dan picked up Gage and began carrying him toward the back door. “I’ll see you soon! He called to Herbert, but the man had already begun to leave, and if he heard Dan, he didn’t seem to care.

 

Dan sat Gage in his high chair, and his plate on the tray. Meg had made Gage his current favorite, a tunafish sandwich with apple slices on the side. Gage got to work gnawing on an apple slice, and Dan poured some iced tea for himself and Meg, before sitting down. Meg came in shortly with sandwiches for the two of them.

“Turkey deli for me?”

“Of course.”

Dan smiled as he tucked into his lunch, he’d worked up quite an appetite chasing Gage all morning.

“I saw you talking with Mr. West in the yard.”

“Yeah, he was actually gonna take us somewhere after lunch.”

“Oh. Where?”

“There’s a path going into the woods. Herbert says it leads somewhere special. I thought we’d make an outing of it.”

Meg didn’t look too thrilled at the idea. “Are you sure he’s not taking us there to murder us or something?” She whispered, making sure Gage wasn’t listening.

“Come on hon, West’s just a bit of a curmudgeon. I’m sure he’s harmless. Besides, it’ll be good for him to get to know you, see that you’re smart and sensible.”

“Let’s say I wasn’t. Would you still want me to come along?”

“But you are! And he’ll see that. He’ll open up to us, all of us.”

“Okay, but if he starts being weird Gage and I are turning around.”

“And so will I. It’ll all be fine, I’m sure of it.”

Meg sighed but made no more argument. Lunch finished uneventfully and soon Dan was wrestling Gage into his tiny hiking boots and lacing up his own while Gage stomped around the house squealing in delight.

The three Cains met Herbert in the backyard. The man was dressed in what seemed to be his usual, white shirt, black pants and tie. However, he wore hiking boots instead of loafers. Upon seeing Dan, he nodded, but he gave no acknowledgement to Meg and Gage. “Come on.” He said and began walking toward the path. Dan gestured for Meg to follow him with Gage, and they set off down the path.

The trees were thick, but the sun still shone through the canopy, casting sunbeams on the greenery surrounding the group. The temperature had dropped slightly, and a gentle wind blew. Dan was grateful he’d worn his jacket and dressed Gage warmly. Herbert walked quickly, as if he were on a mission, while Meg walked slowly, pointing out birds and plants to Gage. Dan walked in between, wanting to talk to Herbert, but not wanting to leave his family too far behind. When Meg and Gage weren’t too far back, Dan sped up slightly to walk next to Herbert.

“So, where are we going?”

“It’s a surprise. I think Gage will like it.”

How considerate. Dan had been under the impression that Herbert didn’t care about anything that Gage liked or disliked. “Well, I’m looking forward to seeing it. How much further?”

“Not too much longer, over that hill.” Herbert pointed ahead, and Dan could see a small hill not too far away. “I used to walk this path all the time as a boy.”

“Have you lived here all your life?”

“Pretty much. My family has owned parts of this land for generations.”

“Is it just you in the house?”

“Just me. My family is long dead.”

“I’m sorry to hear that.”

“Don’t be.”

Dan turned to see that Meg and Gage had fallen rather behind. “I’m gonna go help Gage.” He muttered and jogged back down the trail toward his family.

Gage had stopped to look at a ladybug, and Meg had knelt down next to him, helping him count its spots. “I can walk with Gage for a little. You should try to talk to Herbert.” Dan said.

Meg looked up, an annoyed expression on her face, “Can’t you see he doesn’t want to be around me? He keeps sneering at me when you aren’t looking.”

“Maybe he’s just squinting, it’s pretty sunny.”

“He doesn’t like me Dan. And he doesn’t like Gage. I don’t know why we’re following him.”

“He was just telling me that Gage would like the place we’re going. He’ll warm up to us, we just need to show him we’re good people.”

Meg huffed. “Chat with him all you want, but unless he approaches me first, I’m not talking with him.”

“Fine. Just try to hurry up a little, we’re almost there.”

Meg didn’t respond, instead she picked up Gage and brushed past Dan, walking quickly, but not so quick that she’d catch up with their guide.

Dan sighed, maybe he shouldn’t have brought Meg.

Dan dragged his feet, walking a few feet behind Meg. Finally, he heard Herbert call out “Here it is.” Dan sped up to meet him and saw that they had arrived at…a cemetery. Great. Just what he wanted Gage seeing.

“What is this place Herbert?”

“It’s the pet cemetery.” He pointed at a sign at the entrance, written in child’s handwriting, reading “Pet Sematary”

“Jesus Herbert, why did you want me to bring Gage here, isn’t that a little morbid?”

“I loved coming here as a boy. It’ll be a fascinating experience.”

Gage had come down from Meg’s arms and was walking around, touching all the markers. “Mommy, what does this say?”

Meg walked past Dan, shooting him a glare as she passed. She knelt down by Gage and read out the writing on the crudely made wooden cross. “Tommy the dog. 1968 to 1979.”
Dan looked around, there were all sorts of markers, for all sorts of pets. One proclaimed the animal at rest to be a goldfish named Billy, who lived from 1941 all the way to 1967. As he walked around, he realized the markers were arranged in a spiral and got more decrepit the closer they were to the middle.

Herbert walked to a simple stone marker, in the second outer circle of the spiral and knelt down. “Gage!” He called. And the kid came running over. “This is where I buried my rabbit Archimedes, back in ’51. Do you know why we bury things Gage?”

Gage shook his head.

“Because they die. Everything dies someday, dogs, rabbits, goldfish, cats. Even you and me.”

“Will Rufus die?”

“Yes. One day. You never know, it could be in ten years, it could be tomorrow. Everything dies at some point.”

Dan stood in disbelief, he wasn’t quite sure if that was what he wanted Gage hearing. But Meg was quite sure it wasn’t. She snatched Gage up and glared at Herbert. “What business do you have speaking to my son like that? What kind of cruel man brings a child to a place like this and tells him those sorts of things! You should be ashamed of yourself Mr. West!” With that, she stormed off down the path, not waiting for Dan to follow.

Herbert stood up, brushing the dirt off his slacks. “That was quite a scene.”

Dan finally came to his senses, “I should think so? Did you bring Gage here just so you could spook him? Some neighbor you are.” Dan turned to leave but Herbert followed.

“I apologize Dan. If you haven’t noticed I’m not the best at socializing. I was just sharing what interested me as a boy.”

“You had to know that Gage isn’t that type of kid.”

“Well now I do. And I’m sorry for upsetting your wife.”

“So, you’ll apologize to her?”

“I’m not sure she’d want to hear it. It might be better coming from you.”

Dan rolled his eyes and kept walking down the path. He couldn’t see Meg and Gage up ahead, they must have already gone past the hill.
He walked quickly and silently, trying not to pay attention to Herbert following closely behind him. Eventually Herbert spoke again. “I mentioned I study death, yes?”

“You might have.”

“I’ve been working on a scientific way to reverse the process actually. Or at least, I try to with what little resources I have. I tried to take my work to Miskatonic but, you heard how that went.”

“Uh huh.”

“I get what little I have second hand and it’s not very good. You’ll be working at the university soon, and they have plenty of equipment just sitting in closets there. I’m sure nobody would notice if some of it…went missing.”

Dan whipped around in a fury. “Did you just ask me to steal from my new job?”

“Maybe just borrow?”

“God! What is wrong with you!” Dan turned and quickened his pace down the path. This time, Herbert didn’t follow.

Chapter Text

 After the incident at the pet cemetery, Dan didn’t see Herbert at all, and he was grateful for that. It took a lot of apologizing to Meg, but she finally stopped giving Dan the cold shoulder after a few days. Gage didn’t seem terribly troubled, but Dan could see the way the boy looked at Rufus with a glint of worry in his eyes.

Dan started work on Monday, and it went about as uneventfully as working at a university hospital could. He met the Carl Hill that Herbert had spoken of, and he definitely picked up on some bad energy coming from the man; but what did he care about the opinion of a self-proclaimed genius who hated his wife and kid.

When Dan wasn't busy at the hospital, he was now dealing with Meg being an anxious mess as Thanksgiving rapidly approached. Her father Alan had invited Meg and Gage, and pointedly not Dan, to spend the holiday with him in Chicago. Meg had a complicated relationship with the man, but after moving to Maine, she felt she owed him a visit.

“I’m telling you Meg” Dan said as Meg rifled through Gage’s clothing drawers, “If it’s making you this upset you don’t have to go.”

“No, I owe it to Daddy. I did up and move away to Maine, and he has a right to see his daughter and grandson for Thanksgiving if he wants to.”

“You don’t owe him anything, Meg. Besides, if he doesn’t want anything to do with me, what business does he have inviting Gage. He’s my son too!”

Meg dropped a folded pair of corduroys into Gage’s little blue suitcase and sighed. “I want to try to fix things, Dan. Maybe if it’s just Gage and me for Thanksgiving, you could be there too come Christmas.”

“What happened to having Christmas in our new house?”

“Trust me Dan, I’d love to - but Daddy insists. So maybe if you go along with it, I can convince him to give you another chance!”

“He’s had all the chances he needs! I’m sick of you bending to his every will!” Dan stormed out of the bedroom and went to find Gage. He wasn't in his room or in the kitchen. Dan’s heart stopped when he saw the front door open.

He raced outside and found Gage walking back and forth on the lawn, seemingly looking for something. “Gage! What are you doing out here by yourself!” Dan scooped up the child, and was about to go back inside, but hesitated. He didn't need Gage being exposed to all of Meg’s anxious energy. So, he sat down with him under the tree.

“I’m looking for Rufus.”

“Why would Rufus be out here sweetie?”

“I let him out.”

Dan almost swore but instead took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. “Why did you let him out?”

“He was going ‘meow’ at the door.”

“Oh honey. Don’t let Rufus outside. He could get lost.”

Suddenly, Gage looked up at Dan, his blue eyes wide with worry. “Are we gonna find him?”

“Of course, baby.” Dan petted Gage’s hair gently, “If you go inside and play in your room, I’ll look for him right now, okay?”

“Okay.” Gage nodded. He stood up from Dan’s lap and went back inside, closing the door behind him, smart boy.

Dan stood and looked around. He didn't see Rufus immediately, so he went toward the bushes and got on his hands and knees. No Rufus. Maybe he was near Herbert’s house. It was quite overgrown after all; plenty of places for a cat to hide.

Dan was shivering as he crawled around by Herbert’s porch, pushing vines out of the way and making the clicking noises that he used to call Rufus for feeding time. He didn't see any sign of the cat, but he almost jumped out of his skin when he heard a voice above him.

“Are you trying to look for cadavers? I wouldn’t be so foolish as to bury them under my porch.”

Dan looked up to see his neighbor standing on the porch looking down at him. “Sorry, I’m just trying to find Rufus.”

“I thought your cat was only indoors.”

“He’s supposed to be. Gage let him out.”

Herbert tutted and shook his head. “Typical child.”

Dan stood up, dusting himself off. “Not typical for Gage. He’s normally so smart.”

“Then it must have been the road.”

“Pardon?”

“Come Danny, sit down.” He beckoned Dan to the porch, and Dan complied, taking a seat on a worn out rocking chair. Herbert sat beside him on a weathered ottoman. “The road here… isn't natural. The trucks are compelled to drive up and down all day and night, at speeds they wouldn't dare go on the highway. And the animals, they feel compelled to cross it. That's why the Pet Sematary is so full. Very few of those cats and dogs die from natural causes. If I were you, I wouldn't have brought a child to a place like this.”

“I think Gage learned his lesson from his close call. He won’t wander like that again.”

Herbert laughed, “It doesn't matter how smart your little boy is. That road will call to him one day, and you or I or even Meg might not be there to stop him.”

Dan stood abruptly, “You watch the way you talk about my son, hear me?”

“I’m not trying to be cruel Danny, but that’s how this place works. That's how it's always been.”

“You lived here as a child, and you’re still here.”

“Oh, but my brother isn't. And I’ve had some close calls myself.” Herbert pulled up one leg off his pants and rolled down his sock, a large red scar took up half his leg, seemingly a chunk was missing, skin pulled tight against his bones. “I might have lost this, if not for the brave doctors like yourself.”

Dan sat back down, looking at Herbert’s leg. “You seem to walk fine, does it not hurt anymore?”

“Oh, it hurts. Especially as it gets colder, you’re bound to see me limping eventually.”

“I can probably give you something for the pain, do you not already have a prescription?”

“I make it myself actually. It works very well, but there’s only so much modern medicine can do.”

“You make your own painkillers?”

“It's nothing too illegal. No need to get your scrubs in a twist. I’ll show you my lab one day if you like.”

“I should get back to Meg.”

“Do you really want to be back in the house with that woman in such a state? Besides, I thought you were looking for Rufus.”

“I suppose so. Gage will be heartbroken if I don’t find him before they leave.”

“I’ll help you look. We wouldn't want a temper tantrum on our hands, now would we?”

“Thanks Herbert. I appreciate that. I know you’re not necessarily a fan of his.”

“I dislike children’s whining more than I dislike animals. Come in, I’ll get you a jacket.”

Dan followed Herbert inside, curious to see what the inside of the man’s house looked like. It was cleaner than he expected. The outside was so unkempt, but the living room was eerily clean. It seemed like no one even lived there. No paintings on the walls, no knick-knacks on the shelves; only books, papers, and more books. Dan sat on a plastic covered couch as Herbert dug through a closet, eventually pulling out a dark green bomber jacket that was much too large to be his own.

“This ought to fit you well enough.” Said Herbert, handing the jacket to Dan.

Dan slipped it on over his flannel shirt, it was a bit big, but not uncomfortably so. “Whose was this Herbert?”

“My father’s.”

“Great,” thought Dan, “I’m wearing a dead man’s jacket.” He stuck his hands in the pockets and found them to be quite comfortable. “How long has he been, you know, gone?”

“Many years. I don’t know why I never got rid of his damn jacket. It’s probably the only thing of his I didn’t burn.”

“Oh. Well, thanks.”

“Don’t mention it. Now let’s find your cat before your son starts screaming.”

Dan followed him back out the door, taking one last glance at the house. He wondered where Herbert’s lab was, if he had been telling the truth about it.

The November wind was only getting chillier. Dan tried to walk around the surrounding area speedily, while keeping his hands in the coat pockets to warm them. He called out for Rufus until his voice was hoarse, but there was no sign of him. He even climbed a few trees before it hurt too much. Herbert followed closely behind, occasionally branching off to check a place that looked like it could contain a cat. But the men had no luck. Soon enough it was getting dark, and Dan was getting tired. He was sure Herbert would have given up by now, but he seemed intent on preventing a tantrum. Dan noticed the other man’s gait seemed strained, and he winced every time his left foot hit the ground. “I think we’ve done all we can, Herb. We’ll just have to hope he shows up for his dinner.”

“I guess so.”

“Thanks for helping me. I mean it.”

“Come inside for a little. Have a drink with me.”

“I should get back to Meg. She’s probably wondering where I went.”

“Suit yourself.”

“Oh, here’s your jacket back.” Dan began to shrug off the jacket, but Herbert shook his head.

“Keep it. I have no love for that thing. Besides, you look good in it.”

“Thanks.”

“You’re doing me a favor by taking it.”

“I mean it, thanks for everything.”

“If you keep saying that I won’t help you again.”

“Fine, have a good night Herb.”

“You too Dan.” With that, Herbert stalked back to his house. But before he opened the front door, he looked back at Dan and gave him a nod. Dan nodded back and went inside.

 

When Dan came back inside Meg and Gage were eating dinner, and Meg pointedly did not look up when he walked in.

“Hi sweetie, what’s for dinner?”

“Make yourself a sandwich.”

Gage looked confused, “Tuna casserole!”

Meg looked at Gage calmly, “Daddy can get his own dinner. Gage, why don’t you play in your room until dessert?” Gage nodded, and Meg scooped him from his high chair and placed him on the floor. She and Dan watched as he made his way up the stairs to his room. “Do you mind telling me why instead of helping around the house before I leave town, you go and hang out with the neighbor who hates me until sundown?”

“We weren’t hanging out. We were looking for Rufus.”

“Where’s Rufus?”

“He got out, Herbert and I didn’t find him. Maybe he’ll show up in-”

“And what am I supposed to tell Gage if you don’t find him before we leave?”

“I don’t know. Let’s just hope it doesn't come to that.”

“Daddy, is Rufus gonna be okay?” Gage was peeking out of his door, his face filled with worry.

“I- we’ll see what happens.”

“Promise Rufus will come home?”

Dan took a breath, he didn't want to lie to his kid. He didn't want to raise him like Dan’s own parents did, telling him that good people were always okay in the end. And that delusion came crashing down when he entered the real world, making him feel as if it was his own duty to save everyone he could. He was about to speak when Meg cut him off.

“Go on, promise!”

This didn't feel right, but he didn't want to make Meg more upset than she already was. “Come down here, buddy. Give daddy a hug.” Gage came slowly down the stairs, holding the rail as he went, and toddled into Dan’s arms. Dan hugged him tightly, “I promise, I’ll make sure Rufus is gonna be okay.”

“I love you daddy.”

“I love you too Gage. Now, how about that dessert?”

Meg warmed up to Dan enough to let him have some of the frozen apple turnover she’d heated up in the oven. He saw her smiling as he blew on Gage’s food to cool it for him. When Meg didn't lecture him further after the kid went to bed, Dan was assured that she had calmed down, at least for the moment. And when Meg said she wanted to go to sleep early, Dan went with her.

Dan slept fitfully that night, he kept dreaming of speeding trucks, and cats and dogs in the ground of the cemetery, just as restless as he was in their own eternal sleep. He also dreamed of Herbert, synthesizing painkillers in his lab, burning his father’s possessions, coming up close to Dan and looking up at him with his big eyes through his thick glasses. Then, a truck sped through his dream, horn blaring, and Dan woke in a cold sweat.

It was six in the morning, not too early to get up. Meg was still asleep, so Dan pulled the covers back over her chest and planted a kiss on her forehead before he quietly left the room. It was Sunday, which meant he’d be driving Meg and Gage to the airport after lunch. He wasn't looking forward to spending the week by himself, so he was going to be working all week long.

Noy quite sure what to do with himself, Dan poured himself some seltzer, and sat down on the couch, staring at the wall. He kept thinking about the road, and the cemetery, and Herbert West. Part of him wanted to go to the other man’s house, see if he was awake, check out his lab. No, Herbert was probably still sleeping, and he wouldn’t want Meg to wonder where he was. So, he drank his seltzer and leaned back on the couch, imagining what might happen if he did go to Herbert’s. Would Herbert answer the door groggily, wearing pajamas? Or did the man even wear pajamas? Maybe he slept in his dress shirt and slacks. Maybe his glasses would be askew, or still on a bedside table. Dan wondered what he looked like without them - if his brown eyes were really that big, or if it was just an illusion created by the lenses. Maybe Herbert would be upset that Dan got him up at such an early hour. Or maybe he’d invite him in. Dan would step inside the house and take a seat on the couch. Herbert would sit next to him, so that their thighs were touching. Herbert would lean in and…Oh god what was Dan thinking? He was a married man! And Herbert was…cruel and spiteful and male. Maybe he should go back to sleep after all, he wasn't thinking straight.

Dan must have fallen asleep on the couch because he woke up to Meg tapping him on the shoulder. “What time is it?” he asked groggily.

“Almost nine. You seemed tired so I let you sleep. I’ve finished packing everything. Gage is worried about Rufus.”

Dan sat up, Gage was at the top of the stairs, holding one of his teddy bears tightly. “If he doesn't show up before you leave, I’ll call as soon as I find him.”

“Promise?” Gage asked.

“Promise.”

Before Dan knew it, he was alone in the house. He wasn't the type to scare easily, but the empty house was eerie, and every little noise had him on edge. He considered inviting Herbert for dinner but decided against it. If Meg found out he’d invited him over, she’d kill him. So instead, he got a beer from the fridge and put on the TV. He watched the last act of some campy sci-fi horror before turning off the TV and going to bed. Thankfully, his dreams were unmemorable.

…

 

When Dan returned from work on Wednesday afternoon, he found a plastic grocery bag hanging from the knob on the front door. He peeked inside and almost screamed. In the bag was the mangled body of Rufus. Oh god. How would he explain this to Gage? To Meg? He turned to find Herbert staring at him from his porch. Dan held up the bag, “What the hell is this Herbert?”

“A dead cat. Your dead cat if you couldn’t tell.” He made his way over to Dan’s yard, hands in his pockets, “I found him on the road. I couldn't reach you at your work, so I left him there.”

“You could have left a message!”

“I was busy in my own lab, Daniel. And what would a message say, Dan? Cat dead, details later?”

“I don't know, just, don't leave dead cats on my door!”

“I’ll keep that in mind. I’ll help you bury him after dinner.”

“Thanks. Do you wanna come in?” Dan asked before he could consider how Meg would feel about that, but it was already done. Besides, she didn't have to know.

“Thank you for the invite, but I already made some food. You’re welcome to come to my place.”

“I guess I should take you up on that, seeing as how I was planning on takeout. Let me change out of my scrubs and I’ll be right over.”

“I’ll put Rufus in the lab until we bury him. You can come right in when you’re ready - no need to knock.” With that, Herbert took the bag from Dan and started towards his own house.
Dan unlocked the front door and went upstairs to change. He’d have to do some cleaning on the weekend, he realized. In just a few days he’d allowed dishes to pile up in the sink and left all manner of junk scattered around the living room. Dan had never been very organized. Living with Meg had helped. She liked everything clean and orderly. She had put labels on all the drawers and cabinets and would only buy things she knew there was a place for.

Dan followed Herbert’s instructions and didn't bother knocking before coming in the front door to the West residence. Herbert was setting out plates on the kitchen table. A pot of spaghetti was on the stove. “Sit here,” said Herbert, gesturing to a spot at the table, “the other chair is mine.”

Dan took a seat and took in the kitchen. It was just as neat as he was expecting it to be, but it was more stocked with ingredients than he thought it would be. “You cook a lot?”

“Reasonably so. Enough that I don’t have to survive on takeout. I don’t eat often, but when I do, I like it to taste half decent.”

“Meg’s tried to teach me to cook on several occasions, but I’m not very good at it. I can make a grilled cheese pretty well though.”

At the mention of Meg, Herbert frowned. But his scowl was replaced with a look of concentration as he opened the oven and pulled out a tray of rolls.

“You make those yourself?”

“A few weeks ago. They’ve been in the freezer ever since. I figured I’d heat them up.” Herbert brought the pot over to the table and put some on Dan’s plate, along with a roll, and some salad.

“Damn Herbert, you went all out.”

“I was planning to invite you when you got home, I figured you were lonely and could use a cheering up dinner.”

“You really do care.” Dan smiled.

Herbert looked down at his plate, “I try not to, but it happens every now and then.”

“It happens to the best of us.”

“So, how long will the family be gone?”

“They’ll be back Saturday night.”

“Why aren’t you with them?”

“Meg’s dad doesn't like me. He never has. I don't really feel like talking about it.”

“Then don’t. Eat, Dan. We have a long walk ahead of us.”

The two men finished dinner, and Herbert went down to the lab, which was in the basement, to bring Rufus. Dan had already changed into his hiking boots, and he’d brought the green jacket he got from Herbert. He didn't know why, he had other jackets at home. Wordlessly, Dan and Herbert set off into the night, Dan carrying Rufus and Herbert carrying a shovel.

The moon shone through the trees in a way that would have been beautiful if Dan wasn't feeling so uneasy. The wind at his neck felt like the breath of a phantom, and Dan swore he could hear coyotes in the distance. Herbert didn't seem bothered in the slightest. He walked briskly ahead of Dan, as if he were simply going for a walk. When they reached the Pet Sematary Dan stopped to put the bag down and take a breath, but Herbert shook his head.

“This isn't where we’re burying him tonight. Follow me.”

Confused, Dan followed Herbert’s gaze to a large mound of brambles at the far end of the clearing - a deadfall - Dan recognized. The sight of it upset Dan in a way he didn't understand. But Herbert walked over to it and began to climb. “Herbert, wait! You’ll fall!”

“No, we won’t. Just follow me. Don’t stop walking, and don’t look down.”

Dan swallowed and followed Herbert to the deadfall. He put one foot on a sturdy looking branch, and then another. One step at a time he began to climb. As he made his way up the deadfall he noticed the fog. It had been clear before. Now a light fog had settled and made the world hazy. He continued over the deadfall. One step at a time. Not stopping. Not looking down, he followed Herbert. Until suddenly, he was on solid ground again, and the fog had cleared.

“Come on Dan, we don’t have all night. This way.”

Dan caught his breath and followed Herbert further into the woods. Eventually, the trees cleared and they came to an open, stoney clearing. The ground was bare of grass, hundreds of stones had been carefully placed in massive circles, with smaller ones within each circle, piles of stones were placed methodically on the lines of each circle. Dead branches were arranged within the circles, creating what looked like runes of some sort. “What is this place Herbert?”

“It’s a burial ground. Used by the Micmac Indians.”

“Why bury Rufus here?”

“You’ll see. Now get to work.” Herbert handed Dan the shovel and took a seat on the cold ground.

“You’re not gonna help me?”

“Each man must bury his own.”

Dan shook his head. “Anywhere specific I should dig?”

“Anywhere will do. As long as it's within the burial ground.”

Dan found a clear spot and thrust the shovel into the hard ground. Digging even a cat sized grave was an arduous task. The dirt was dry and full of stones. After only a few minutes, Dan’s hands were sore, and he was sweating in the cold night. Every now and then he’d look up to see Herbert watching him motionlessly, the moonlight reflecting off his glasses. “How did the Micmacs bury anyone here? There’s so many rocks!”

“My father used to say ‘The soil of a man’s heart is stonier than…’ something like that.”

“Thanks. That really helps.”

“Glad to be of service.”

After an hour, two hours? Dan had a decent hole dug. He put the bag with Rufus’ body in the shallow grave and covered it up with dirt. Dan sighed and wiped his hands on his jacket. “Can we go back now?”

“Are you done?”

“Yeah. Jesus, what I am gonna tell Gage.”

“Everything will turn out fine, you’ll see, Danny.”

The walk home seemed to go quicker than the walk there. Dan watched the moon as they walked back, Dan carrying the shovel with Herbert limping behind him. Dan was going to offer help, but Herbert glared at him so fiercely, he figured he’d better not. When they got to the deadfall, he waited for Herbert to go in front of him, just in case he needed to make a well timed catch, but Herbert glided over the deadfall like a ghost over water. Climbing back up, he noticed the fog again. It had thickened ever so slightly. When Dan reached the top, he was tempted to stop, and look into the fog, but he didn't dare defy Herbert’s instructions.

At last, they arrived in Dan’s backyard. Herbert looked at Dan with a peculiar look in his eyes. “Come inside with me, Dan. I might need help getting to bed.”

Dan was surprised, but he was happy to help him. After all, he felt he owed the man. He took Herbert’s hand as they climbed the porch steps, and the man let him. When they got to the living room, Herbert collapsed on the couch. “There’s a hot water bottle in the cabinet above the sink and a kettle on the stove. Heat it up for me?”
“Sure, I’ll get right on that.” Dan went to the kitchen and quickly located what Herbert needed. He filled the kettle and put it on the stove, before returning to Herbert, who was lying down with his leg propped on a pillow. “Anything else?”

“There’s a vial in the fridge and a syringe in the dishrack. The label says-”

“I’m not giving you homemade drugs!”

“Please, Danny.” He looked into Dan’s eyes, with a pleading look. His brown eyes watering. “It hurts.”

Dan bit the inside of his cheek. As a doctor, he should never be giving someone some dubious pain killing concoction. But as Herbert’s friend… “Fine.” But just this once.” He went back to the kitchen and found the syringe and vial. “How much?”

“5 cc’s” called Herbert. Dan filled the syringe and put the vial back in the fridge before coming back to the living room.

“Where do you keep your alcohol?”

“Need a drink already?”

“You know what I mean.”
“Bathroom cabinet. Down the hall.”

Dan found the bathroom and the rubbing alcohol. He took some cotton balls and went back to the living room where Herbert was still sprawled on the couch. He knelt down in front of the other man, “Where do I put it?”

Herbert rolled up the sleeve on his left arm and held it out. Dan could see slight bruising where he must be injecting it. Dan wiped down the area and stuck the needle into the site. Herbert let out a slight gasp as he pushed the plunger, injecting the clear liquid into his vein. Herbert immediately sighed in relief.

“Do you want a bandage?”

“I’m not five, Danny. Now go check on that water, it should be hot but not boiling.”

Dan went back to the kitchen and prepared the water bottle for Herbert. When he returned Herbert had scooted to one side of the couch, leaving room for Dan, his leg on his lap in a half crisscross position. Dan handed him the hot water bottle, his breath hitching when Herbert’s fingers brushed his own as he took it. “Sit with me Dan.”

Dan sat. There were still a few inches of room between him and Herbert, but it felt closer.

“You’re blushing Dan. Are you okay?”

Dan realized his face was indeed burning. He had recovered from the journey already, maybe it was being near the hot water.

“Are you lonely Danny?” Herbert asked before Dan could come up with an answer to his first question.

“I guess so. I mean, with Meg and Gage being gone all week.”

“I confess I’ve been rather lonely. I forgot what it was like to have company around. To talk to someone and enjoy it.”

“I’m glad I could help.”

“Look at me, Danny.” Dan looked, Herbert was staring at him, pupils wide, mouth slightly open. Dan couldn't help but let his eyes flicker to the man's lips - pink, and slightly chapped. Herbert's tongue darted out and wetted them slightly, and then, his lips were on Dan’s.

It was a chaste kiss, just a press of Herbert’s mouth onto his own, but when Herbert pulled back Dan was gasping for air. He didn't know what to do. He should scream, he should push him away, make it perfectly clear that he wasn't like that. But he didn't, he grabbed Herbert's face and kissed him back. He felt Herbert’s small hands grasping at his collar, baring Dan’s throat and part of his chest. Dan pressed his tongue against the other man’s mouth and Herbert let him in. He tasted like spearmint and the sharp sting of chemicals. Herbert moaned into his mouth and Dan pulled him even closer. Suddenly, Dan opened his eyes and realized what he was doing. He shoved Herbert away, jumping up from the couch as it had burned him. He felt like throwing up. God, he should chug every bottle of mouthwash in existence.

“Get away from me! What the hell did you do to me!”

“You kissed me back, Dan!”

“God! How could I ever do something like that? Did you put something in my food or something?”

“Yes Dan! I put homo-pills in your spaghetti.” Herbert drawled sarcastically, still seated.

“This isn't something to joke about! I’m married!”

“Danny, just wait a second!” Herbert started to stand, wincing as he did.

“No! I’m not listening to anything you have to say! You’re disgusting! I- I-” Dan couldn't think of anything else to say so he ran out the front door. He wanted to keep running, running to who knows where, maybe all the way to Chicago to find Meg and apologize. But he went home. He thought about going to bed, but he couldn't bear to lie in the bed that he and Meg shared, after what he had done. He kicked off his shoes and turned off the lights before laying down on the couch, alone with his sins.

Chapter Text

Dan awoke in the empty house, missing Meg more than ever. The framed pictures that she had hung on the wall seemed to stare at him. A glamour shot of Meg stared into his soul, knowing everything he’d done. A shot of Gage as a baby gazed at him with a look of confusion, wondering why he’d betrayed the ones who loved him most. And Dan’s own face in his graduation photo didn't even want to look at him. There was nowhere to hide from his mistake. Dan pulled the blanket over his head, wishing he could somehow undo the previous night’s events.
A scratching sound at the door took him out of his self-hating trance, and he curiously got up to open it. For a second, he thought he was dreaming. Because there was Rufus, alive, and meowing angrily.
“Rufus? Is that you?”
“Mrow!” Rufus darted past Dan’s feet and up onto the couch. Dan went to pet him, but Rufus hissed and swatted at him. Maybe this wasn't Rufus. The Rufus Dan knew was friendly as can be. This had to be some sort of stray - but no. He was wearing Rufus’ collar. Dan could see the red leather peeking out from the matted black fur. But it couldn’t be. Rufus had been stone dead when Dan put him in the ground. But here he was; and he stank like the dirt he was buried in.
“Oh my god. This isn't real.”
“It is Daniel. Rufus is alive again.”
Dan whipped around to see Herbert standing in the doorway.
“What the hell are you doing here? What did you do to Rufus?”
“You did this Dan. You buried him.”
“This isn't possible. He was dead! I know he was!”
“He was, Dan. But not anymore.”
Herbert started to take a step inside, but Dan held up his hands, “Not a step closer. You stay out there. Or better yet, go back home and never come back!”
“I could do that. But then you’d never have the answers you so desperately want. Look, Rufus is back from death. Think of what this knowledge could do for the medical world. You could save lives, Dan. Hundreds, maybe millions. Just listen to me. Please.”
Dan swallowed hard. Herbert had to be lying or tricking him somehow. This man was insane, malicious, depraved! Dan should shove him out the door and tell him to get lost. But what if he was right? Everything was telling Dan that this was Rufus. And he was alive. If the cat could somehow be brought back from beyond the grave… Dan was a doctor. His purpose was to save lives - and the power to bring back the dead? How could Dan refuse? He had to take the chance.
“Fine. But if you lay so much as a finger on me, I’ll… ”
“Deal. Now come with me.”
“I’m not even dressed!” Dan was still in his clothes from the night before; still wearing the jacket Herbert gave him, he realized in disgust.
“You’re dressed enough, just put on shoes and follow me to the lab.”
Dan looked at a family picture from the previous year, hanging above the door. If he followed Herbert now and things went wrong, he could lose what he’d dreamed of all his life. But if they didn’t… he wouldn't risk losing this opportunity. He slipped on his sneakers and followed Herbert out the door, as Rufus stared after him, his eyes glowing yellow.

Herbert’s lab turned out to be located in the basement. Because of the living room and kitchen’s cleanliness, Dan was surprised at the state of disarray that Herbert kept his lab. Stacks of books, journals, and papers took up an entire desk. A wall shelf holding yellowed wet-specimens was covered in dust and cobwebs. And what looked like an old fashioned operating table was cluttered with flasks, vials, petri dishes, and all sorts of medical paraphernalia.
“God, Herbert. What do you do down here?”
“I told you, I study death. It’s not the neatest profession.”
“I’m not the best at organizing but this is horrendous! How do you find anything?”
“Organized chaos Dan. I have a system, so don't you dare touch anything unless I say so.”
Dan didn't know what to do with himself. Here he was in a psycho's laboratory, with an undead cat prowling his living room. “What happened to Rufus? How did he come back?”
“It was the burial ground, Dan. There is something about it that can reverse the process of death. Before you ask, it's not the dirt alone. I've tried that and several other factors already. The effect only occurs at the site itself. I’ve been studying the burial ground for years, but I simply don't have the resources I need.”
“Wait, Herbert. You haven't tried this on people, have you?”
“No.”
Dan didn't believe him, but he was still curious. “How did you find out about this in the first place?” Herbert looked away, putting his hands behind his back. Taking a deep breath, he looked back at Dan. His eyes had a look about them, as if he wasn't seeing Dan, but looking through him. Looking into the past.
“My father used to tell tales of the Micmac Indians when I was a boy. He told me about their burial site, how it used to be an ordinary graveyard until something made the ground turn sour. He said it possessed the ability to bring the dead to life. I was intrigued of course. I had always found death fascinating. I kept asking about how the magic worked, and if he had ever tried to use it. I guess he got tired of my curiosity because I found my rabbit dead the day after I asked a few too many questions. My father said it got its head stuck in a jar and suffocated. He took me past the deadfall to bury it that night. The next morning, I found Archimedes in the garden, alive. I didn't believe it. I thought my father had bought a new rabbit and tricked me. This rabbit wasn’t like the Archimedes I knew. He wouldn't let me pet him or pick him up. But the smell, that sour smell of dirt about him. It was unmistakable. I came to terms that this had to be Archimedes. Father forbade me from asking further questions after his generous demonstration.”
Dan had sat down on a vacant stool partway through the story, but Herbert was pacing the lab, looking at the floor as he talked.
“Two days after my rabbit’s return, I awoke to my brother screaming. He took me to the hutch, and there was Archimedes, eating Crawford’s rabbit Bubba. I was fascinated, but Father took the cannibal rabbit to the backyard and shot it. Then I buried it for the final time, in the Pet Sematary. My father wanted to prove that ‘Dead is better’. I guess the lesson didn't stick
“Damn.” Was all Dan could say. No wonder Herbert was so fucked up. “Your brother Crawford, when did he die?”
“A few months after Archimedes. I was eleven.”
“How old was he?”
“It doesn’t matter. He’s dead.”
“I’m sorry Herbert.”
“Why?”
“Because no one deserves to lose a brother.”
“You don’t know what I deserve Dan.”
Dan looked away, his gaze landed on the clock. It was 8:30. “Oh, god I need to go to work!”
“Go on then, you have important things to do. I’ll start my own work in the meanwhile.”
…
Dan couldn't have clocked out fast enough. He was beginning to make his way down the hallway to the front entrance when he was stopped by a hand on his shoulder. It was Dr. Carl Hill.
“Dr. Cain. You seem to be in a hurry to get home.”
“It’s been a long day.”
“I can’t imagine there’s anything waiting for you. After all, your wife and child are away.”
“I don’t see how that concerns you Dr. Hill.”
“I heard you moved into the house next to Herbert West.”
Had Hill been spying on his conversions? Looking at his records? “Yes, I did.”
“You know he used to be a student here.”
“I heard. He told me himself he got expelled.”
“I’d be careful if I were you. He’s unstable. I suggested he be institutionalized actually. He displays quite aggressive behavior when someone threatens his delusions of grandeur. Not to mention his homosexual tendencies.”
“I’ll keep that in mind. Goodnight doctor.” Dan speed walked toward the door, not looking back.
“Did he mention that he was arrested as a teenager? He was suspected of murder. He got away on self-defense, but I don’t believe it for a second.”
“Goodnight Doctor.” Said Dan through gritted teeth as he forcefully opened the front door. He thought Hill might have said something after that, but he wasn't listening.
He drove home on autopilot. Only thinking of Herbert. He didn't want to believe what Hill told him. The doctor had proven himself to be a manipulative creep, but if he was telling the truth, who did Herbert kill? Maybe his brother wasn't hit by a truck. He died only a few months after Herbert found out about the burial ground. Did Herbert kill him to use as an experiment? How far was Herbert willing to go in the name of discovery? He pulled into his driveway and considered going home to change first before he met with Herbert but decided against it. He was still in scrubs, he’d rather get those dirty instead of his other clothes. Besides, he still needed to do laundry before Meg got home in two days.
There was no answer when he knocked on Herbert’s front door. He was probably in his lab. He tried the handle. It was unlocked. “Herbert!” He almost said “I’m home.” Before he realized that this wasn't his house, it was Herbert’s. What the hell? West wasn't some housewife, waiting for Dan to come home, wearing a little apron while making dinner for her beloved husband.
“I’m in the lab. I have a sandwich for you on the kitchen table. You can take it down with you.” Herbert yelled from the basement.
Dan recoiled in disgust. Who did Herbert think he was? Inserting himself into Dan’s life, trying to take Meg’s place. Dan glared at the kitchen as he walked to the basement. From the top of the stairs, he could see Herbert had cleared one of his tables, and it was now covered in glass tanks. When he made his way down, he realized each tank held roughly a dozen live mice.
“Ah, Dan. There you are. Did you like the-”
“I don’t want your fucking sandwiches, West. You’re not my wife.”
“Fine, don't eat. Help me prepare these slides.”
“What have you been doing all day?”
“Science, Daniel. I’ve prepared tissue samples of the control group to compare with the post reanimation specimens.”
“Slow down, slow down. Where are you going with all this?”
“After you left I wrote up a process for studying specimens post reanimation. Once the pet store downtown opened I drove there and bought their supply of mice. Then I found a few more stores and bought their stock too. Now, I’ve sorted them into control and experiment groups in order to compare the tissue samples with the post reanimation groups to find variation!”
Dan hated to admit that he was a bit lost. Herbert was either a genius, or completely crazy.
“We will bury the pre-killed experiment group tonight and collect them when they return. When we bring them back here we will kill them again and compare the samples with the control group. I’ve been meaning to do this for a long time, but you have brought back my determination with renewed life, Danny! Together we can change the world.” Herbert laid a hand on Dan’s shoulder, Dan pulled away from the touch.
“What did I say about touching me, you creep!”
“Sorry Daniel. I got a bit carried away. It won’t happen again. Now help me with these samples!”

Dan worked tirelessly the rest of the evening, doing everything Herbert ordered him to do. Preparing slides, recording data, catching escaped specimens, and just about everything he didn't feel like doing after getting home from a ten hour shift. Herbert was alive in a way that Dan had never seen before. His hands wouldn't stay still, and Dan could hear him muttering to himself every now and then. At some point when Herbert was behind him, Dan swore he heard the name “Crawford” escape the man’s lips a few times.
When it was nearly midnight, Herbert exclaimed triumphantly, “Time for an expedition Dan! Put on your boots and meet me by the path.”
“I’m tired Herbert. From the time I got back from the hospital you’ve been working me non-stop, and now you want me to follow you all the way to the damn burial ground? I’m going home.”
“But Dan. I need you.”
Dan didn't look at him. He knew Herbert was staring at him with those big brown eyes, fluttering his eyelashes like a desperate little damsel. “No. I need to sleep. I’ve had enough.”
“How am I supposed to do this by myself, Dan? I have a cooler full of dead mice to carry, not to mention my leg -”
“I don’t give a damn about your leg! Man up for a little. Or take your painkillers. I’m going home.” Dan began walking toward the steps. He could feel Herbert’s gaze boring into him. If he looked back now, he’d never leave. He climbed to the top of the rickety wooden staircase and made his fatal mistake, casting a wayward glance at the lab below. There was Herbert. Gazing up at Dan, looking like a kicked puppy. It made him think of Gage when he wanted something he couldn't have.
Dan could just make out a quiet “Please, Danny.” from the man below.
Before he knew it, Dan was in his hiking boots, waiting by the moonlit path. When Herbert arrived with the cooler and a shovel, he simply smiled at Dan, handing him the shovel as he passed.
“I’m not doing this once Meg gets back.”
“I won’t ask you to.”
Dan didn't believe him, but he didn't fight him on it. As they walked under the shadow of the towering trees, Dan couldn't help but stare at Herbert. If the other man noticed, he didn't show it. He walked at a brisk pace, carrying the cooler like a man on a mission. Finally, Dan spoke. “So, how are we gonna round up all these mice after they… come back?”
“They’ll find us. As long as we bury them they’ll return.”
Dan didn't want to think about the dozens of mice scurrying down the path on their way to Herbert's house. Lining up patiently by the door or slipping in through a crack in the walls. Dan had never been the biggest fan of rodents. He didn't mind them outside, but he never liked the thought of them indoors. Especially after they’d been dead.
“Hill talked to you at work today, didn't he?”
“How did you know?”
“You’ve been looking at me funny. He told you about my arrest when I was seventeen.”
“He did. He was vague about it though.”
“You think I killed Crawford.”
“Did you?”
Herbert paused. “No. It was the road that took him. I killed my father.”
“Oh.”
“It was self-defense. Hill doesn't believe that, but it’s true. By that time, it was just my father and me. He had been drinking and he got angry. I didn't specify to the court why he was angry, just that he suddenly lost his temper. You see, I was planning to move out in a few months when I turned eighteen. I was sure I was going to make it. I got too brave. I started a relationship with a boy I met in school. I left out a letter I meant to give to him, and my father found it. He threatened me with a gun, and I ran outside. He was close so I found a shovel and managed to hit him in the head. I didn't know he was dead, I thought he was just unconscious. I packed my things and started walking. I wasn't sure where I was going, I just had to get away. I was found by the cops in the morning. My aunt paid for a lawyer, and I was found innocent because of self-defense. I lived with her until I turned eighteen. I had inherited my father’s house, and my aunt was wealthy enough to pay my tuition for Miskatonic University. You know how that went. When my aunt passed from natural causes I was her sole beneficiary as she never had children of her own. So, now I live comfortably here. And I have never killed anyone on purpose.”
Dan was speechless, the more he learned about Herbert, the worse he felt for the poor lonely man. “Oh Herbert. I’m sorry I even considered that you could be a murderer.”
“It was a natural thing to assume.”
“But I shouldn't have. If you ever need someone to talk to, I’m here. You sure don’t have it easy.”
“Will you be here once your wife is back?”
“I’ll talk to her. She doesn't know what you’ve been through. I’m sure she’ll understand.”
Herbert scoffed. “I don't want her pitying me.”
“She won’t. Meg didn't have it easy either. Her mom died when she was young, and her father’s been very controlling of her ever since. She didn’t move out of his house until she was twenty five. She used to visit me in secret when we first met. I used to sneak in through her bedroom window. It was like Romeo and Juliet.”
“Except she wasn’t thirteen and nobody committed suicide.”
“Yeah.”
“Carry the cooler over the deadfall for me. I’ll take the shovel.”
“Yeah, sure.” Dan didn't even realize they had reached the Pet Sematary. He took the cooler from Herbert and walked toward the deadfall. His eyes fell upon the grave of Archimedes, and he pictured a young Herbert burying his rabbit for the second time, a large faceless man looming over him. Maybe Crawford had been there too. In his mind he saw a smaller version of Herbert, maybe without glasses, kneeling next to his brother.
“Come on, Dan.” Herbert was already beginning to climb. Dan hurried over with the cooler and took a step onto the deadfall. A chill ran down his spine. He could feel the otherworldly fog settling around him. He realized that he couldn't hear the crickets anymore. In fact, everything beside his breathing and the crackle of branches beneath his feet had gone silent. No bugs, no wind, not even Herbert’s footsteps. The fog was heavier than the last time he’d made the climb. It made his throat cold as he breathed in. When he reached the top he stopped for just a second. He felt a sinking feeling in his stomach, like he was about to plunge through the brambles, never to be seen again. He quickened his pace and let out a sigh of relief when he was once again on solid ground.
“I told you to keep moving Dan. Never do that again.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Come on. We’re almost there.”
Dan nodded breathlessly and followed Herbert until they reached the burial ground. It was darker than the last time they came. Dan realized he could see the stars clearly in the ink black sky. He wanted to look for constellations, but he couldn't recognize any at the moment.
Herbert was already digging. “You can sit, Dan. Take a nap.”
“Are you sure you don’t want help?”
“I can manage, Daniel. Besides, I don't want you bitching that your feet hurt on the way home.”
“Since when have I done that?”
“You imply it. That's just as bad.”
Dan scoffed and took a seat on the cold ground. It wasn't exactly comfortable, but it was better than digging. As he dug, Dan could see Herbert’s mouth moving, forming words that Dan couldn't hope to hear at this distance. Slowly, he scooted closer until he could make out a few words.
“...getting closer….now that I have…..it won’t be long……Crawford.”
As Herbert continued to mutter, Dan could see a wild look in the man’s eyes growing more severe by the minute. His muttering got louder.
“I’ll make up for all of it, you’ll see…… I’ll prove them all wrong……. If this works…….then you can forgive me…..I’ll find a way Crawford.”
Suddenly, Herbert turned his head and saw Dan staring. The crazed look disappeared and was replaced with anger. For a second, Dan thought Herbert might rush at him, brain him with a shovel. Then, his face softened. “Bring me the cooler, Dan. We’re ready.”
Dan slowly got to his feet, and brough the cooler to Herbert. The man carefully laid out his specimens in the hole he had dug, before filling it in with dirt, and wiping his hands on his jacket. “Alright Danny, let’s go home.”

It was a good thing Herbert wasn't a small talker, because Dan had nothing to say on the walk back. His mind was occupied with what had happened the last time he got back from a morbid excursion. This time would be different. He’d go straight home and sleep in his own bed. When he lay down, Herbert would be completely out of his mind, he’d think only of Meg and Gage and how much he’d missed them. He wouldn't dream of undead mice crawling through Herbert’s walls. Or of Herbert himself. No, he wouldn’t think of Herbert’s brown eyes and pale skin. He wouldn't hear the sounds of Herbert’s heavy breathing, or the sounds he’d made when Dan had kissed him. When he hugged his blanket to his chest he wouldn't think of how it felt to wrap his arms around the man’s small waist, feel his heartbeat against his own. Instead, he’d dream of Meg. Her smile, her laugh, her blonde hair. But as Dan pictured his perfect dream, the laughter turned breathy and masculine, the blue eyes turned to brown, obscured by thick glasses. Delicate hands became small and calloused, grasping at his shirt collar with the desperation of one who hasn't felt the touch of another in months, maybe years.
When Dan came back to reality in front of the deadfall, he hated Herbert. He wanted to cross the deadfall as quickly as he could and run home, never looking back. When Herbert spoke, Dan nearly whipped around and punched him. He didn't even hear what he was trying to say, all he heard was the blood rushing in his ears,
At the sight of the anger in the man’s eyes, Herbert took a step back, his expression turned wary. “What's bothering you, Dan?”
“Shut up! Don’t you ever shut up?”
“I’ve been quiet for the past ten minutes, Dan.”
“Whatever. What do you want? Just spit it out and leave me alone.”
“I was just reminding you to not stop on the deadfall, Dan. That hardly warrants an attack.”
“I didn’t attack you.”
“You were about to. I know when someone is going to hit me, Dan.”
“I wasn't. I’m just on edge.”
“This is about when you kissed me.”
“You kissed me first, you sicko!”
“And I won’t do it again. Especially if something as small as speaking can provoke such violence in you, Daniel.”
“Just cross the damn deadfall. I’m tired.”
“Whatever you say.” Herbert walked in front of Dan and began his ascent.
Dan watched him climb, he waited until Herbert had reached the top before he followed. When Dan stepped foot on the deadfall, he didn't feel like himself. He wasn't in his body. He was the fog. He clung to the branches, to his own jacket, and to Herbert. All he could hear was the other man’s labored breath. He could see everything and nothing. Herbert's eyes were dead, as were his own, Oh god. It was the same for Herbert, wasn't it? Herbert was the fog, just as Dan was. Herbert was clinging onto Dan’s body, Dan was breathing him in, choking on him. He tried to will his body forward, away from this horrible phenomenon, but all he could do was watch as his body trudged forward, suffocated by Herbert.
Finally, he could breath, he was back in his body again, and on solid ground. He looked over at Herbert, trying to see if the man was just as shaken up as he was. At first, Herbert seemed normal, but there was something in his eyes. And the way he moved, it was like he was testing how much control he had over his body. Dan was relieved. He hadn't been crazy. It was real. But then he felt sick. He could still feel the fog; feel West all over him. He wanted to vomit. He pushed past Herbert and began speed walking down the path, desperate to get away from the insanity that Herbert brought everywhere with him. He didn't stop until he reached the house, where he finally felt safe to stop and take a breath.
“I’ve got it from here, thanks for offering!” he heard Herbert call after him. Dan didn't look back. He unlocked the front door and went inside. After slipping off his boots, he nearly went straight upstairs, until he realized the light on the answering machine. He’d check it in the morning. He started for the steps, before something told him he should do it now. Maybe it was Meg, maybe Gage was hurt, maybe they were coming home early. Or staying late. He clicked the button.
“You have seven new messages.”
“Oh god.”
“First message.” Dan was happy to hear Meg’s voice. He’d missed her so much. “Hi sweetie. Gage and I arrived safely last night at Daddy’s house. We miss you already. By the way, Gage is anxious to hear about Rufus. Love you sweetie.”
Dan suddenly realized he hadn't called or even thought of calling since Meg and Gage left. What kind of husband was he? He felt the guilt beginning to sink further in as the second message started.
“Hi honey. I know you’ve been busy at work, but I hope you aren't too lonely all by yourself at home. Daddy took Gage and I to the park today. Gage wants me to tell you he scraped his knee, but he was a brave boy and barely cried. He misses his daddy a lot, we’re both looking forward to hearing from you. Love you honey.”
It was too late to call right now, he’d call first thing in the morning. What excuse did he have for not checking his messages all week?
“Hi Dan. Gage just went to bed, but I figured I’d see if you were available. Have you been working extra shifts? I don't want to call your work and make you think it's an emergency or anything. I know you must be tired, but Gage really misses you and he's very anxious for any news about Rufus.”
How stupid was he? Not checking for calls the second he got home instead of going straight to bed? Had the phone rang when he was home and he’d ignored it?
“Dan, are you okay? If you're nervous about calling Daddy’s house, he doesn't mind. Please call back as soon as you have a chance, Gage has been refusing to go to bed and he's very worried about you. Please tell me you haven't been sleeping at the hospital or something. Just call back when you can, just to tell me and Gage you’re okay.”
The next message had both Meg and Gage’s voices greeting him. “Happy Thanksgiving!” Then it was just Gage’s little voice coming through the crackle of the answering machine. “I love you Daddy. Please tell me about Rufus. I miss you.”
He went on to babble about his day and all the things he ate for a good five minutes until he handed the phone back to Meg. “We hope you’re having a good holiday. Please call back.”
There were still two messages left. Dan sat helplessly as they played.
“Dan. What the hell? I was up with Gage until nine waiting for you to call! I’ve been covering for you to Daddy because he sees enough faults in you. Have you even been home? Are you ignoring me? Is something wrong? I don't understand why you’re not calling! How do you think Gage feels? He’s never been away from you this long without talking to you! God! Just- call back.”
“Dan. I called your work. They said you’ve been leaving at seven like usual. It's not that far from home. Where have you been? I keep telling myself I’m overreacting, but what am I supposed to think? The best case scenario here is you lost power or something! But then you would probably call me from a payphone or something to tell me. If I come home early Daddy’s gonna want to know why. What am I supposed to say? My husband, who I've been vouching for for years hasn't called all week since I left and apparently isn't listening to his messages either? If you don’t call soon I’m going to find a friend nearby to check on you. Please. I’m worried for you. Just pick up the phone Danny. Please.”
“No more messages.”
Dan had his face in his hands. How could he have missed all these calls? Sure, he’d been busy today and yesterday, but other than that he was on his normal schedule. Had there been some power short or malfunction he hadn't noticed? He couldn't wait until tomorrow, he had to at least leave a message. He dialed Alan Halsey’s number and waited until the ringing stopped and the prerecorded message played.
“You’ve reached the Halsey residence. I’m not home right now, please leave your name and phone number after the tone.”
Dan waited for the “beep” and took a deep breath before starting the message. “Hi Meg. I don’t know what's been going on with the answering machine, but I just now saw I had messages. I’m so sorry but I’ve been so tired when I get home and - I’m so sorry Meg.” His eyes fell on Rufus who was hiding under the coffee table. “Uh, the good news is Rufus is fine. I found him this morning before work. I think he's still a little shaken up from his adventure, but he doesn't seem hurt. I’m really looking forward to seeing you and Gage again. The week I’ve had, I don't even know how to describe it. I promise I’ll call you tomorrow morning and if I don't reach you I’ll call on my lunch break. I’ll call someone to look at the answering machine and the phone too. Maybe we had a power flash while I was gone, but it's better to be safe than sorry. Tell Gage I love him.”
Dan couldn't think of anything else to say so he hung up. He still couldn't think of why he’d missed Meg’s calls. He should have heard the phone from upstairs if she’d called after he went to bed. This new place seemed out to get him. He went upstairs to get ready for bed, Rufus at his heels. However, when he tried to pet the cat he was met with a growl and a swat. Hopefully Rufus wouldn't be acting like this when Gage got back.

Dan's dreams were filled with thick fog that night. Thick fog and swarms of mice. Truck horns blared, a child was screaming. And of course, Herbert was there. He was sitting with his back to Dan, hunched over and whimpering. He wasn't dressed like Herbert, he was wearing a maroon sweater and khaki pants. His hair was honey brown, no flecks of grey to be seen. Dan approached through the fog, reaching out to put a hand on Herbert’s shoulder. The man turned his head to look at Dan, but his face was wrong. It was Herbert’s face, but he had no glasses, his face seemed more youthful.
“Crawford?” Dan asked.
The man nodded before standing up and fully turning to face Dan.
“Are you… a ghost?”
“A memory.”
“What happened to you?”
The scream of a horn caused Dan to collapse in pain. When the noise was gone, Crawford was now a small boy, no older than eleven. “Look at me, Dan.”
Dan looked. Before his eyes, the boy’s flesh began to tear away, his bones cracking. He lay sprawled on the ground of the foggy nothingness in a pool of blood and began to rot. Dan tried to avert his eyes, but he couldn't move. So, he watched as the mangled child began decaying. Suddenly, the boy sat upright, and Dan awoke.
He panted in the darkness, trying to make sense of what he had seen. But at the same time, willing it out of his mind. His thoughts were interrupted by the sounds of movement downstairs. For a second he thought it was Rufus. But no, the cat was curled up at the foot of the bed, snoring and still smelling horrible. Dan carefully pulled back the covers and crept toward the slightly open door. Peering out to the landing, he didn't see anything immediately. He quietly opened the door, willing it not to squeak, and tiptoed onto the landing. From there he could see the living room. It was empty. The noise came again. It sounded like it was from the kitchen. Dan took a chance and called out, “Hello?”
Herbert West peeked his head out of the kitchen doorway. “Good morning Dan. You didn't lock your door last night.”
“What the hell? You just let yourself in?”
“I locked it behind me. Anyway, I figured I’d make you some breakfast before you go to work. That way you’ll have more energy when you get home. You’ve started looking frail, Dan.”
Dan stormed down the stairs, tempted to grab Herbert by the collar. Maybe shove him against a wall. But no, he didn't dare touch the man. “Get out of my kitchen and get out of my house.”
“Very well. Would you mind if I at least finished washing up after myself?”
Dan looked at the kitchen. It seemed he’d already washed the dishes that Dan had been leaving out all week. And there was a plate with eggs and bacon on toast on the kitchen island. “Where did you get bacon?”
“Grocery store. I figured you hadn't gone shopping since Meg left.”
Dan didn't like the way that Herbert said “Meg.” He should have snapped at him for it. But he was hungry. And the kitchen was nearly clean. Come to think of it, the laundry in the living room was gone too. “Did you do my laundry?”
“I was going to put it in the dryer in a minute.”
Dan was too drained to fight. “Thanks Herbert.”
“Think nothing of it. After all, you were such a help to me yesterday.”

Dan was in a daze as he ate his breakfast, listening to Herbert putter about his house like he lived there. The image of Herbert as a demure housewife kept coming back to him. Herbert folding socks, making dinner, dusting shelves. He imagined Herbert going to a garden party, making small talk with other Herberts, all dressed in little white aprons over their button downs and slacks. The thought of more Herberts brought him back to his dream. “Herbert.” he called to the couch where Herbert was folding laundry.
“Yes, Dan?”
“Do you have any pictures of Crawford?”
Dan could almost hear Herbert going still. There was almost a minute of silence before he answered, “No.”
Dan finished his food and came into the living room. Herbert was sitting unmoving on the couch. His hands gripping one of Dan’s flannels. “I’m sorry I brought it up. It's just - I think I saw him in my dream.”
“I’m not surprised. This place affects the unconscious parts of people’s minds. Compels them to look for answers.” Herbert was still motionless, his eyes fixed on the shirt he was holding.
“I saw his death, or at least, a part of it. He was so young.”
“I’m aware.”
“Look, I’m not trying to bring up bad memories or anything. I just want to understand you. I want to be here for you.”
Herbert brought the shirt into his lap forcefully, “I don’t need you to understand! People have been trying to understand me for years! They want to cut me open and see what makes me tick. They want to hear why daddy didn't love me, why mommy died, how I felt when I lost my brother. They don't care about me Dan. They care about my mystery.”
“I care about you.”
“Then why are you so repulsed by me?” Dan wasn't prepared to answer that. Herbert folded the shirt and put it in his pile, still not looking at Dan. “Do me a favor and stop asking about Crawford. If I wanted to tell you about him I would. I’ll put this away and then I’m going to the lab.”
“The mice. When do you think they’ll… come back?”
“They already did. I have them in cages waiting to be killed again so we can compare the tissue samples.”
“That's good I guess. Will you need me to stop by after work?”
“I’d like you to. I want to at least share the day’s findings.”
“Okay. Yeah. I’ll do that.” Dan sat on the couch next to Herbert, who stood and picked up the pile of folded laundry. “You can leave that there.” Dan didn't necessarily want Herbert in his bedroom.
“I don’t mind. You’re a busy man, Daniel. You need all the help you can get.”
Before Dan could protest, Herbert was on his way upstairs, disappearing into the bedroom. He sighed. His gaze landed on the phone. He should call Meg. At least leave a message if she wasn't awake yet. He dialed the number and waited. To his relief, it was Meg who picked up.
“Dan?”
“Hi honey.”
“Oh, Dan! It's so good to talk to you. I heard your message, I’m sorry for freaking out like that, I just-”
“No, don't apologize. I should have made more of an effort. It’s been hard here but I’m so sorry I made you worry. I have to get ready for work soon, but I have a little time to chat before then. Is Gage up?”
“Sleeping like a log. He stayed up far too late last night, I don't want him being cranky.”
“Yeah. How was your Thanksgiving?”
“It was good. The neighbors Missy and Kent were there. You remember them, don't you?”
“Yeah, yeah. Missy caught me sneaking into your window that one time and called the cops. That was fun to explain to your father.”
“I miss those times, Dan. Not the going behind my father’s back, necessarily. Just the thrill of it maybe. I love being a mom, but it leaves something to be desired, I guess. I mean, you have your job at the university. It's something fulfilling. It's good work. I… I have my chores, and I have Gage. I’ve made a few friends in the area. I just wish I had something more sometimes.”
“I guess we have opposite problems. You need more to do, I feel like I can never catch a break. I mean, between work, and the lab-”
“The lab?”
Shit. Dan tried to think of a quick cover story, but nothing believable came to him. “I’ve been helping Herbert with some stuff.”
“Oh. What kind of stuff?” Dan could hear the frustration in her voice, he felt terrible.
“Nothing much. Just some experiments he’s been working on.”
“So, you’ve been too busy and exhausted to call, but you’ve had time to help the neighbor, who isn't even a real scientist, with… experiments?”
“It's more of a favor I’m doing. He helped me find Rufus and he’s -” Dan wasn't sure how to cover for himself without digging himself into a deeper hole. “Listen Meg. He's not exactly the happiest person. He has a lot going on, and I think it really helps when he has something to work on. And someone to talk to. You know those ‘Big Brother, Big Sister’ programs we used to volunteer for? It's like that. Kind of.”
“How charitable.” She muttered dryly.
“It's hard to explain Meg. If you want me to stop, I’ll stop. I just think it's good for him to have someone around. He's lonely Meg.”
“And I’m lonely too. When Gage and I come back, I don't want you sneaking off to the neighbor’s house to experiment with him, okay?”
“Yeah. Okay. Listen, I should get ready for work. I love you and tell Gage I love him.”
“I love you too, Dan.” And she hung up before Dan could properly say goodbye.
“That went well.” Herbert was standing at the top of the stairs, looking down at him.
“Were you listening in on my phone call?”
“Hardly listening in. I just happened to hear you mention me. And you talk pretty loudly.”
“It's not your concern what Meg and I talk about.”
“It is my concern if my work is going to be jeopardized by the loss of a valuable partner.”
“Your work isn't in danger. But now I have to get to mine. Go back to your house.”
Herbert went down the stairs and stopped next to Dan. “Have a good day, Danny.” Then he went out the door.

There was no point in going to his own house when Dan returned from work. Herbert would be waiting for him. He didn't bother knocking, just went in the unlocked door and made his way to the lab. There was no sandwich waiting for him, but the image of housewife Herbert still appeared. Dan imagined coming home to find Herbert standing by the stove, putting a lattice crust on a cherry pie. Dan would sneak up behind him, and bury his face into Herbert’s neck, breathing him in. His chemical scent would be from all his cleaning supplies instead of morbid science. And Herbert would turn his head to pull Dan in for a kiss.
Dan cursed out loud. He was seriously fucked in the head. The sooner Meg got home, the better.
“Danny, is that you?”
“Yeah, I’m coming down.”
Herbert was waiting for him, leaning against a desk, legs crossed at the ankles. “How was work?”
“Fine. How about yours?”
“Glad you asked. I’ve figured out a piece of it. The smell.” He beckoned Dan to follow him to where he had the specimens laid out. “As soon as the dead are buried, they begin to decay from the inside at a fast rate. But somehow, it stops, and they are alive again. The smell comes from internal decay. And yet, the organs become functional again. I can't get any more conclusive results unless I can analyze the brain activity of a live specimen.”
“But you can't do that without the proper equipment.”
“That's right. I don't have access to the right technology to advance my research. But you do.”
“Wait a minute. Are you suggesting we steal university equipment?”
“No, no. Just pay a little visit after hours. It won't take long.”
“No, Herbert! Absolutely not! This is where I draw the line, I am not jeopardizing my career to help you with this morbid doodling of yours! It's unethical! It's obscene! No!”
…
Dan tried to zone out as much as possible as he drove to the university. Herbert was in the passenger seat, holding Rufus’ carrier which held several un-dead mice. A tank of normal live mice was strapped into the back seat. Dan kept his eyes on the road, but he could feel Herbert smiling beside him. “I’m never doing this again. Meg will be back tomorrow afternoon.”
“If this goes well, you won’t have to.”
“And if it doesn't?”
“I’ll figure something out.”
“And it better not involve me.”
“I’ll keep that in mind.”
Dan parked the car a block from the university hospital, staring numbly out the windshield as Herbert hopped out of the station wagon with his carrier of mice.
“Get the controls, Danny. My hands are full.” Herbert was already on his way to the hospital, almost skipping with delight.
Dan grabbed the tank, locked the car, and followed; dragging his feet. “We’re not going in the front entrance. I’ll take you in from a side door.” Dan muttered, just loud enough for Herbert to hear him.
Herbert slowed, waiting for Dan to catch up. “Isn't this exciting? I might find real results. Thanks to your loyalty to our work, we could make a huge scientific leap! We can save everyone, Danny!”
“We haven't saved anyone yet. Maybe you won't find anything helpful, and I’ll have compromised Miskatonic’s trust in me for nothing.”
“Don’t be such a downer, Dan. Why so glum?” Dan didn't answer. He guided Herbert to the door and pushed a few numbers on the keypad, using his knee to support the mouse tank. The door buzzed and Dan pulled it open. Herbert went inside and turned to Dan. “Coming in?”
Dan glanced around before following Herbert, listening for the door to lock behind him. Once inside, Dan felt like his heart was going to burst out of his chest. He crept through empty hallways, peeking around corners as West followed close behind. Finally, they got to the Imaging Center. Dan hadn't spent much time here, but he’d received a tour of the hospital on his first day. He wondered how well Herbert remembered the layout from his brief time here.
“Alright Danny. Just point me to which X-ray they’re using for CAT scans nowadays and I’ll get to work. No need to do a thing, just make sure no one sees us. We’ll be in and out.”
Dan nodded, almost in a daze. He couldn't believe he was actually doing this. Once Herbert had started, Dan paced back and forth by the entrance to the Imaging Center, wringing his hands. He could hear Herbert talking to himself, and possibly also to the mice, as he worked. Dan was just starting to relax when he heard footsteps coming down the hallway. Dan sprinted toward the room where Herbert was working “Someone’s here!” He hissed, ‘Stay put!” He closed the door to the lab where Herbert was working and tried to find somewhere to hide. The footsteps came closer. He should’ve hid in the lab with Herbert. No, then if they were found they’d both be implicated. Besides, he didn't feel comfortable being confined anywhere with the man.
Now it was too late, Dr. Carl Hill came into the Imaging Center, his gaze falling on Dan who was standing like a deer in headlights. “Working late, are we Dr. Cain?”
“Yeah. I just had to wrap up a few notes.”
“In the Imaging Center?”
“No, I’m done with the notes. I just think I forgot something here.”
“Well, maybe I can help you find it. What is it you lost?”
Dan tried to think, but he was having a hard time with excuses lately. “My wedding ring. I think it might have fallen off in here.”
Dr. Hill walked toward Dan, looking like a predator about to burst into a sprint, and eat him alive. “Is that it on your hand, Dr. Cain?”
“Oh, silly me! It was on me the whole time. I’ll forget my own head next thing you know it.”
“Just see to it you don’t forget what I told you before. West is dangerous.”
“What does West have to do with this?”
“Hopefully nothing. Goodnight, Dr. Cain.” With that, Hill turned and left, leaving Dan completely shaken up.
Dan opened the lab door to find Herbert taking notes as if nothing was wrong. “Hill suspects us. We have to get out of here.”
“No need to fret, Dan. I think I have what I need. If you can get us out of here unnoticed, we can go home safely.”
“Let's get going then. I don't wanna be here any longer than we have to.”
If Dan had been tense on his way in, he was twice as tense on the way out. Every little sound had him nearly jumping out of his skin. When he felt Herbert’s breath on the back of his neck, he almost screamed. Thankfully, he and Hebert made it out of the building and back to the car unnoticed.
Dan drove home on autopilot. He only remembered Herbert was in the car after the man let out a yawn when Dan pulled into the driveway. “Thank you for your help Dan. Would you mind carrying one of the tanks inside with me?”
“Yeah. Sure.” Dan grabbed the tank from the backseat and followed Herbert inside.
“You didn't ask what I found.”
“What did you find?”
“Unfortunately, not much. Increased activity in the amygdala, explaining the aggressive tendencies. But no trace of anything that could help.” Herbert set the carrier on the table… and screamed.
Dan jumped back. “Jesus! What's wrong?”
“I thought this would be the answer! This was supposed to tell me everything! You told me this would work!”
Dan was about to snap that he didn't tell him anything, but it didn't look like Herbert was even talking to him. Instead, he was staring ahead, at seemingly nothing.
“You lied to me! You always lie to me! I hate you! I should have let you die, you bastard!” He suddenly turned to Dan, his eyes wild. “We need bigger brains, bigger specimens! Rabbits, Dan. No, dogs! We’ll go to the pound -”
“No! I’m not doing this for you anymore. You're crazy!”
Herbert seized a flask from the desk, smashing it on the floor, “I’m not crazy, Dan!”
“Then stop acting like it!”
Herbert turned back to the wall, “Look where you got us! You always do this!”
“Herbert, who are you talking to?”
“None of your business!” Herbert seized another flask, Dan rushed toward him, wrestling it out of his hand. “Let go of me you madman!”
“Do you hear yourself? You’re acting like a lunatic!”
“Let go of me! Shut up Crawford!” Herbert wrenched himself out of Dan’s grip, picked up a set of vials and threw it at the wall.
“Herbert!”
“I hate you! Just shut up!” Herbert continued to throw things at “Crawford”, shouting obscenities. Dan had enough. He grabbed the man by the shoulders, turned him around, and slapped him across the face. Herbert dropped the beaker he was holding, grabbed Dan’s face with both hands, and kissed him.
Dan had hoped this wouldn't happen again, but now it was happening. And god, he wanted it. He tightened his grip on Herbert’s shoulders, relishing the squeak that came out of the man. He pushed Herbert against the desk, inadvertently knocking more equipment to the floor. How far was he willing to go? What was he willing to do to satisfy this darker side of himself?
Herbert was the first to pull back for air. The madness no longer clouded his eyes, now it was something else entirely. “Oh Danny.” He breathed. And Dan came back to his senses.
“What the hell did you do to me?”
“Kiss you. Wasn't that obvious?”
“What kind of sick freak are you? It's not enough to live your perverted life, you have to force me into it?”
“I’m not having this argument again. You clearly have an attraction to men, or at least to me. Either act on it, or don't. But don’t blame me for your own desires.”
At least Herbert was acting like himself again. “Meg’s coming home tomorrow afternoon.”
“I’ve heard.”
“I can’t see you again after this.”
“And, what will you do about that?”
Dan looked around the lab, looked inside himself. And made his choice.

Chapter Text

Daniel Cain awoke on the couch, in the living room of Herbert West. He stood up slowly, he didn't see Herbert anywhere. Good. It was best if he didn’t. It was cold. Dan realized he’d left his shirt on the floor of the lab at some point before he and the other man had stumbled up the stairs in search of a proper surface. He decided to leave it. He put on the clothes that he'd left on the living room floor. Among the pile of discarded clothing, he found Herbert’s signature black tie. Dan almost wanted to take it with him, keep it as a sort of trophy. But he wasn't that kind of man. He left the tie on the floor as he went out the front door of the West residence, intending to never set foot in there again.

 

Dan’s smile was wide and genuine as he picked up Meg and Gage from the airport that afternoon. Gage ran into his father’s open arms, and Dan felt his eyes tear up as he hugged his boy tightly. “I missed you so much Gage.”

“I missed you too Daddy.”

Dan looked up at Meg, who was smiling, and looking just as beautiful as the day she left. When Gage pulled back from the hug, Dan stood and embraced his wife. He breathed in the smell of her perfume and ran a hand through her soft blonde hair. He would never jeopardize what he had ever again.

The Cain family was all smiles as they drove home. Gage babbled excitedly about the outings he went on with Mommy and Grandpa. Meg recounted a visit with high school friends. And Dan listened happily, feeling content with this wonderful life he’d built for himself. When they pulled into the driveway, Dan pointedly did not look at the overgrown house next door. Upon seeing Rufus in the window, Gage squealed and began to bounce excitedly in his car seat.
“Hold your horses, buddy. I’ll get you out.”
As soon as he was unbuckled, Gage made a mad dash for the house and was sorely disappointed to find the front door locked. “Daddy! Open the door!”
“I’m coming, I’m coming.” Dan gave Meg a kiss on the cheek before unlocking the door for Gage and letting him in.
Gage bolted toward Rufus, capturing him in a hug, before letting go and stepping back, “Yuck! Rufus stinks!”
Meg approached curiously, sniffing the air around the cat. “You’re right. He smells horrible. Dan, did you find him in a trash can or something?”
The horrible reality of where he had found Rufus came crashing down on him like a bucket of ice cold water. “Oh, yeah. He must have been around the trash for a while. I haven't had time to try to bathe him.”

Gage wagged a finger at Rufus, “You need a bath mister!”

Meg giggled, “Well, I know what we’re doing Sunday.” She looked at Dan with a smile, he returned it best he could.

 

Bathing Rufus was not a pleasant ordeal. Rufus yowled wildly as Dan tried to wrestle him into the bathtub while Meg attempted to lather him with shampoo. Gage sat on the bathroom counter, laughing himself silly. Dan tried to see the humor in the situation, but he just felt disgusted. Here he was, trying to wash the smell of internal decay from a previously dead cat. The noises around him became muffled, his eyes unfocused as he felt himself retreating into his mind.
Someone was wrangling an angry wet cat in the Cain’s bathroom, but it wasn't Dan. Dan was curled up inside his head, wishing he could forget everything that ever happened the week that Meg was away. His family was home, this was his chance to make things right. But Dan felt hollow. Inside of him was fog, and nothing else.

…

 

Dan spent the next week deep inside his mind. Outside, he smiled and laughed. Inside, he was curled in a ball, surrounded by a fog that threatened to suffocate him. A few times a coworker would pull him aside and ask if he was okay, but he always brushed them off. And whenever Meg would ask how his day was, he said that he was tired and needed sleep. One night as he was getting ready for bed, he began to feel… heavy. The fog in his mind thickened. He felt like he was choking. He sat on the edge of the bed with his face in his hands. He desperately wanted to go back to normal, but how could he? Nothing was normal anymore. He felt a hand on his shoulder and shouted in alarm.

“Dan, what's wrong?” Meg was beside him on the bed, her eyes full of worry. “And don't tell me you’re just tired. Ever since I got back you haven't been yourself.”

“I don’t know, Meg. I don’t know. I just haven't felt right.”

“Does it have something to do with West?”

“Why would it?”
“I don't know, you just mentioned on the phone that you had been helping him. Did he make you do something you didn't want to do?”

This was his chance. He could tell Meg a half-truth and push the blame on Herbert. “I didn't want to tell you” he began, “but he was doing some experiments on brain activity in mice. He didn't have the resources to do it at home, so he wanted me to take him to the university. I said no, I made it clear I wasn't going to do something like that for him. But he flew into a rage. I’ve never seen him angry like that. I guess I was afraid. He said if I didn't help him he knew people at Miskatonic and he could get me fired. It was so stupid of me to listen to him, but I hadn't been sleeping well, and I didn't have anyone to talk to. I can't believe I let him do that to me, Meg.” Dan tried to will away the lump in his throat and the tears in his eyes, but he couldn't. He began to cry. He hadn't cried in front of someone else since he was a child. He tried to turn away but Meg put a hand on his cheek.

“Oh, Dan. I’m so sorry.” Her voice soured slightly, “I hate to say I’m not surprised the man would do something like that. You really should report this, Dan.”

“No, no. It wouldn't do any good. He’s not the most stable man but I don't want to see him thrown in jail or locked up in some asylum. I think it's best if I just stop seeing him.”

“Okay. But if he ever tries to do something like that again I’m going to call the police. Or at least the university.”

“Okay.”

“Is there anything I can do for you, Dan? Anything?”

“I just need sleep.”

“Okay. Just tell me if you need anything. I’m here for you Dan.”

Dan fell asleep in Meg’s arms, feeling at peace for the first time in weeks.

…

 

After his breakdown, Dan found himself feeling like his old self again. He started making small talk with his coworkers, playing with Gage in the yard when he got home, even taking Meg out on date nights again. He was finally starting to feel like he belonged in his new community. Herbert West had been wiped from his mind completely, and Dan felt better than ever.
It was Sunday. Despite the October wind, the sun was shining brightly and Gage wanted to play outside. Dan put on his jacket and called to the kitchen where Meg was cleaning up, “Gage and I are going out. You wanna come?”

“I’ll be there in a minute. Go on ahead.”

Dan picked up Gage, who was looking incredibly cute in his overalls and new blue sneakers, and carried him outside. As soon as his feet touched the ground, Gage ran in circles around the yard, shrieking with joy. Dan watched him happily. Sometimes he wished that Gage could stay like this forever. Young and carefree, oblivious to the terrors of the real world. Out of the corner of his eye, Dan could see the West residence, like a stain on an otherwise perfect painting. These past weeks he’d been ignoring it, but now it called to him. Dan could just make out the silhouette of a person in the upstairs window, watching him. Dan was frozen in place, everything but the house was blurry, foggy. Then he heard the blaring of a horn, and he turned to the road a second too late.

Little Gage Cain, who would be three in two weeks, was standing in the road, inspecting a pebble. Dan raced toward the road, he felt like he was running through a river, the currents pushing him away. He had just reached the road when the truck raced by, the pressure knocking him off his feet. Something flew from the road and rolled to a stop next to Dan’s face. It was a shoe. A tiny blue shoe, now soaked in blood.

Dan tried to get up, but his head was swimming. He could hear Meg running toward him, screaming like she’d never screamed before. And another set of footsteps on the grass was audible too. As Meg ran past Dan to the street, a pair of black loafers came into view. Hebert West knelt down beside him.

“You most likely have a concussion, Danny. You’re bleeding if you haven't noticed. Don't try to move, the ambulance is on its way.”

Dan didn't listen, he pulled himself into a sitting position and took in the horror of what had happened. The truck had stopped a few feet down the road, partially on the grass as if it had swerved abruptly. And in the middle of the road was Meg, sitting with her back toward Dan and cradling Gage. He tried to stand up, but his legs were shaking so badly he fell down immediately.
“I told you not to move, Dan. You’re only going to hurt yourself.”

“Gage.”

Herbert looked at the road, then back at Dan. “The ambulance is on the way.”

 

Dan found himself sitting on Herbert’s front porch, a blanket draped over his shoulders. He knew he’d be taken to the hospital at some point, but the EMT’s were busy pulling Meg away from the truck driver. So, Dan watched from the stairs until the coroner showed up. Dan couldn't bring himself to look at the body. He was sure he’d seen worse, but this was his child. He wouldn't let his last memory of Gage’s face be one of carnage.

Eventually, Dan was taken to the hospital for his head injury. He couldn't recall clearly, but he thought that as the doors of the ambulance closed he could see the upstairs window of Herbert’s house. Though Herbert was on the lawn talking to the police, he could still see the silhouette of a person in the window.

 

Dan was released from the hospital that night, having been prescribed peace and quiet. Herbert came to pick him up, as one of Meg’s close friends had offered to have her stay for dinner . The drive home was silent. Dan stared straight out the windshield. He could feel Herbert glancing at him every few minutes. He didn't even notice the car had stopped until Herbert tapped him on the shoulder. Dan got out of the car and walked to his front door without a word. He wouldn't have spared a backward glance if Herbert hadn’t called out to him.

“Will you be okay alone?”

“Meg will be home soon.”

“Alright. Get some rest, Danny. I’m here for you.”

Dan unlocked the door and went inside. It was the same as it always had been. Dan didn't know what he had been expecting, but the unchanged house disturbed him. His family was changed forever, and yet, there wasn't a single sign of it inside. Dan went up to his room and fell asleep as soon as his head hit the pillow.

 

Dan woke up to find the other side of the bed empty. Maybe Meg hadn’t come home the night before. He didn't want to be alone. He thought about calling her, but it was 6:30 in the morning. He didn't want to wake her. Dan tried to remember what he had been dreaming about. He’d been running to Gage as the truck approached. He’d almost reached the road, when Gage changed into Crawford. The boy was standing in the road, in a pool of blood. Half his face was torn off and multiple bones were exposed. He said something to Dan, but it had been drowned out by the truck passing by. The dream had repeated several times, each time Crawford seemed more desperate to get his message across. But Dan never heard.

He was startled out of his memories by the sound of a door creaking open. It was Gage’s door. Dan rushed to the stairs, half expecting to see his son, and the other half expecting to see Crawford. But it was Meg. It was clear she had been crying and hadn’t slept well. Dan realized he hadn't cried at all.

“I’m sorry I didn't join you last night. I went to Gage’s room, I must have fallen asleep.”

“It’s okay, I was just a bit startled. I thought you didn't come home.”

Meg came down the stairs and buried her face in Dan’s chest. “I called Daddy. He’s coming here for the funeral and then I’m going back home with him. I can’t stay here anymore.”

Dan wasn't sure if she wanted him to come with her. He ran his fingers through her hair and hoped to God that she wasn't saying what he thought she might be saying. When she didn't answer his unasked question he tried to work his way around it. “Are we selling the house?”

Meg pulled away. “I don't know what I want anymore, Dan. I love you, I really do. But right now, I just want to go home.”

Dan’s heart sank. Maybe once she had some time to herself she would realize that she still needed him in her life. After the funeral she would ask him to come back to Chicago with her. But deep down he knew, this was it. “Just do what you need to, Meg. But I’m always here for you.”

Meg nodded tearfully. Dan watched her as she climbed the stairs and went back to Gage’s room, closing the door behind her.

…

A few days later, Dan found himself in a black suit, sitting in his car in the church parking lot. Meg was in the passenger seat, clutching a bouquet of white lilies. She hadn't looked him in the eye for days now. And she rarely left Gage’s room. Dan had tried to spend as little time in the house as possible. It was always full of friends and coworkers, coming to share their condolences. The kitchen and dining room tables were covered in flower vases and casserole dishes. And whenever he was there, he always noticed something of Gage’s lying around. A teddy bear, some blocks, a shoe. And Dan would suddenly feel horribly sick and need fresh air immediately, lest he began vomiting. He could barely keep anything down these days. But he never felt hungry.

“I don’t want to go in.”

The sound of Meg’s voice brought him back to reality. Although it was more like some twisted dream. He opened his mouth to reassure Meg, but he couldn't think of anything to say. Instead, he nodded grimly, unsure if she even noticed.

“I don’t want to see it. All those pictures of our baby. All those people and their sympathetic smiles. I can’t do it.”

“I’ll be here with you. We’ll do it together.”

Meg swallowed hard, blinking back tears. Then she slowly and reluctantly opened the car door and stepped out onto the sidewalk. It shouldn't have been such a beautiful day. This was the worst Dan’s life had ever been, and the weather was as nice as he’d ever seen it in October. The sunshine and the crisp air taunted him. A sunny day would forever be tainted by tragedy. Dan stepped out of the car and went to Meg’s side. He wanted to take her gloved hand, but she was still clutching the bouquet like it might fly out of her grip at any moment. Out of the corner of his eye, a Ford Station Wagon pulled into view. Dan looked at it for a second, it looked familiar. Then he looked away when he saw who was inside it. Dan took Meg's arm and began walking toward the church entrance keeping his pace brisk and his head down. He was almost to the doors when Herbert West stepped in front of him.

“Dan. I’m so sorry for your loss.”

“Thanks.”

“I mean it Dan. It’s a terrible thing that's happened. I feel for you Dan. I want to be there for you.”

Dan nodded and brushed past him, stepping through the open double doors and into the crowded lobby. Dan didn't recognize half the people there. They were probably friends of Meg. Or spouses of his coworkers. He could feel their eyes on him, full of sorrow and pity. He felt selfish for not wanting to be there. This was supposed to be for Gage. And Dan was making it all about himself. So, he put on a brave face and went into the chapel. It would have been beautiful if not for the tragedy of it all. The chapel was filled with white flowers, and pictures of Gage. A large wreath sat atop the closed casket, with a picture of Gage on his 2nd birthday. Meg immediately began to cry. And before Dan could console her, one of Meg’s friends swept her away into the sea of mourners.
Dan was alone. His coworkers patted him on the back and mumbled their condolences every few minutes. But Dan was alone.

At last, everybody was seated. The minister was giving a speech about God’s plan and how heaven gained another angel. Dan had been raised catholic, but this all sounded like bullshit to him. What God would take little Gage away in such a cruel manner? What God would mutilate his little boy beyond recognition? While everybody sighed and wiped their eyes, Dan seethed. As Dan’s eyes drifted around the church, his sight landed on Herbert West. How long had West been staring at him? Dan looked away hurriedly. But his gaze kept landing on pictures of Gage, so he stared intently at his own lap until the sermon was over.

As people began leaving the chapel, Dan wandered toward the casket. He didn't want to see his son put in the ground. Not that he wanted to miss it. He just wished it wasn't happening. A forceful hand on his shoulder made him startle. He turned around to see Alan Halsey, Meg’s father. His eyes were red from crying, and his tie was lopsided.

“You.” He growled. “How could you let this happen?”

Dan was too stunned to speak. What was he supposed to say?

“What kind of father are you? Can’t even watch his own kid! You took my grandson away from me, you bastard!”

Dan looked around for Meg. Instead, he saw Herbert walking toward him. Then Halsey was on him, grabbing the collar of Dan’s suit.

“This is all your fault! How could you do this to my daughter? Carelessly putting her son in danger! I always said you’d cause her nothing but misery!” He let go of Dan’s collar, then reared back and hit him with a right hook across the face. Dan was in shock, falling backward before catching himself and standing up again. Halsey threw another punch. But before it made impact, Herbert stepped between the two men, grabbing Halsey’s hand before it could make contact.

“Leave him alone! This man just lost his son! If you lay another-”

Herbert was cut off by Halsey grabbing his shirt and throwing him to the floor. “Stay out of this you little fruit!” he growled. Herbert tried to stand but Halsey kicked him in the chest, knocking the wind out of him.

Dan, finally recovered from the shock; was alight with anger. He lunged at Halsey, tackling him to the ground. A metal flask fell from inside the man’s suit jacket and skidded across the floor. While Dan was distracted by the flask, Halsey rolled on top of him and reared back, ready to throw another punch. Dan braced for the impact. But it didn't come. One of Dan’s coworkers was hauling the drunken man away. Dan lay back on the floor of the chapel. His cheek burned and throbbed. He could see Herbert standing up, making his way over. Dan stood himself up and pushed through the crowd to find Meg. He hoped she hadn't seen what had happened. She had enough to deal with already.
He found Meg in the lobby, surrounded by women who must have been her friends. Seeing Dan and his disheveled state, Meg rushed over. “Danny, what's happening? I heard a commotion!” Dan hesitated. What was he supposed to say? “Your dad got drunk and punched me in the face”?
Herbert came up behind him. “One of the guests is drunk. He attacked Dan and then me when I tried to step in. If I’m not mistaken, that guest is Alan Halsey.”

“Daddy!” Meg pulled away from Dan and ran toward the chapel. Dan followed, not wanting to just stand around.
Halsey seemed to have calmed down. He was sitting on a pew, crying profusely. Upon seeing Meg, he hid his face in his hands. “Oh, sweetie I’m so sorry. I don't know what came over me. I shouldn't have been drinking, but first I lost your mother, and now my only grandson. Grief just follows me wherever I go.”

Meg sat next to him, taking his hands in her own. “Oh Daddy. I’m sure Dan understands. Just please promise me you won't drink anymore while you're here?”

Halsey nodded tearfully. Meg hugged her father, burying her face in his shoulders as the two of them cried. Dan stood a few feet away, unsure of what to do. He felt useless. Meg didn't want him around. Meg acted like she didn't need him. But by God, he needed her. He needed her more than ever. He’d never felt so alone in his life. Dan’s parents had died a few years back. He had an uncle and some cousins that lived in Minnesota, but he wasn't close with them. The only family he really had was Meg and Gage. And now he’d lost them. He just wanted to go home. But they still had to bury Gage. And the last thing he wanted was to sit in the car with Alan Halsey. They’d argued via Meg over the past few days because Dan didn't want to rent a limo. It felt exploitative and showy. Halsey had accused him of being a cheapskate. Dan had called him a stubborn ass. Meg had been caught in the middle of it, and Dan felt horrible. In the end, Halsey paid for the limo without permission and Dan hadn't said anything to avoid a conflict.

Now, he was stuck in the limo with a frigid Meg and a tearful Alan Halsey. The last time Dan had been in a limo was his senior prom. Meg had been there too. And so were two of their mutual friends, Eve and Jack. Jack’s family had rented the limo. But he let Dan and Meg come along - knowing Dan couldn't afford it, and Meg’s father didn't even want her going in the first place. He only let her go because she wore her mother’s dress and pleaded with him for weeks, saying it was a way to remember her mother. She also didn't mention she was going with Dan, or any boy for that matter. It had been an awkward ride, but an exciting one. But there was no excitement now. Just misery.
It wasn't much longer before Dan found himself watching his son being lowered into the ground. Although it was more like watching a wooden box that he knew his son was inside being lowered into the ground. He didn't know exactly how he felt. He was riding waves of crippling misery, in between bouts of total numbness. Sometimes, he felt like he would throw up, and the next moment he felt nothing at all.
At some point during the service, Dan made eye contact with Herbert. Looking away quickly, Dan realized he couldn't remember ever inviting West. After all, he was trying to avoid him. And Meg certainly hadn't been the one to invite him. So, who did? Maybe the little creep just followed them to the church. Dan wouldn't put it past West to do something like that. Dan’s anger and disgust for Herbert West was a good distraction from the proceedings. He mulled over every awful word he'd like to call him, every way he’d like to hurt the man. He let his anger grow, until it hung over him like a fog, settling on his black suit. He clenched his fists and bit his tongue, allowing the fire in his belly to burn bright. He imagined shoving West to the ground like Halsey had, kicking him repeatedly and screaming at him. West deserved a good beating. He made eye contact with Herbert again, and this time he could see empathy in the man’s eyes. The anger disappeared, and Dan just felt sick again. He tried to swallow the bile rising in his throat, but he couldn't. He broke out of the crowd of mourners and fell to the ground, vomiting what little food was in his stomach. Everything burned. His throat, his chest, the tears welling in his eyes. He just wanted to go home.

…

It was dark by the time Dan got home. Meg didn't look at him the whole drive back. There was no point in trying to get through to her. He followed her to the bedroom and watched as she began to pack her suitcase, neither one of them saying a word. Meg was leaving tomorrow. He’d be alone. He felt angry again. What did she expect him to do? Did she even care how he felt? Her father certainly didn't. And now she was crawling back to him, probably for good. And Dan would rot in this godforsaken house. Alone. But what could he do about it? Nothing. His life had fallen apart right before his eyes and all he could do was watch. He kicked off his shoes and laid down on the bed, watching Meg pack. She didn't look at him once. Dan cried himself to sleep for the third time in a row.

The next day, Meg left. Dan had followed her all day just in case she tried to leave without saying goodbye. She gave him a curt hug and told him she was sorry. Dan watched the car drive out of sight and stayed outside until the sun set. Finally, he went inside. He opened the fridge, pushing casseroles out of the way until he found the beer. He took it to the living room and sat on the couch, sighing heavily. From here on out, it was him against the world.
Dan didn't remember finishing the case. But he must have, because when he reached for another bottle, there were none left. He stood up, without any real plan, and made toward the front door. His feet carried him across pavement and grass until he stood on the front porch of the West residence. For a minute, he wanted to turn around. But then he thought of Meg, flying off to Chicago without a second thought. Herbert had said to Dan that he was here for him. So, he knocked.

Herbert answered the door after only a few seconds. He smiled slightly seeing Dan, then frowned at his disheveled state. “Come in Danny. You look like hell.”

Dan stepped inside and made his way to the living room, collapsing on the couch. “I feel like hell. Do you have a beer?”

“No. I’ll bring you some water.”

Dan stared at the ceiling until Herbert returned with a glass of water. “Thanks.”

“Make some room.”

“Hm?”

“Sit up. You're taking up the entire couch.”

Dan blinked a few times then sat up. He took a sip of water as Herbert sat down on the other side of the couch. There wasn't much distance between them. It felt horribly intimate. Intimacy was something he hadn't had these past few days, and he needed it desperately. He looked at Herbert, trying to somehow communicate with his expression alone. Herbert understood, he scooted closer until their sides met.

Herbert snaked a hand behind Dan’s head, gently guiding him until Dan was half lying down with his head in Herbert’s lap. Herbert brushed his fingers through Dan’s hair gently, and Dan could have melted.

“Let me tell you a story, Danny.” He took in a deep breath and let it out before beginning his tale.

“Crawford and I were close growing up. Looking back, we wouldn't have been close at all if not for the circumstances of our upbringing. Crawford was delicate, sensitive. I was straight forward and realistic. Our outlooks on life often clashed. He didn't like it when I studied death. He said it was cruel. I said it was a part of life. I was annoyed by him. He was a thorn in my side most days. But soon enough I realized that I had no one else to turn to for companionship. My father only sought to teach me lessons where questions weren't allowed. And my mother was rather useless. Sometimes father’s lessons made Crawford rather upset. And when that happened he'd go crying to mother who told him pretty words and nothing else. Sometimes a lesson ended in bruises and scrapes. I never cried, but it made me angry. And when Crawford went to mother, all she’d do was dress the wounds and send him away to play in his room. And that made me even more angry. I started treating Crawford myself so that he wouldn't be so dependent on mother. And eventually, I found a sort of comfort in it. It was good to have someone who relied on me. And I relied on him too. Then one day when he was eleven, he asked me to play outside with him. I agreed. I enjoyed studying nature as much as he did, even if I enjoyed the more morbid aspects. I was digging for earthworms to use in an experiment, when I looked up to see Crawford in the road. I stood up immediately - Crawford knew the road was dangerous. As I got closer, I saw he was looking at a dead bird. I stood still for a second. I was wondering if he was finally taking interest in my field of expertise. That was my mistake. The truck seemed to come out of nowhere. I heard it coming and ran toward him. I almost made it. But I was too late. I found myself in a puddle of blood on the side of the road. My leg was mangled, but Crawford was worse off. He was dead. I knew there was no saving him. He was… flayed.”
Herbert began to choke up. He tightened his grip in Dan’s hair before breathing deeply again and continuing. “That night, alone in a hospital room, I remembered the lesson my father had taught me with my rabbit. I wondered if somehow it could work on people too. But I was in no condition to test it. I went through two reconstructive surgeries on my leg and intensive physical therapy before I could walk again. Not to mention, I was my own nurse once I was discharged. Mother would come into my room every now and then, but all she ever did was stare at Crawford’s empty bed. As soon as I felt able, I packed a bag and went to the cemetery. How an eleven year old boy managed to rob a grave and carry a body for six miles mostly uphill, I’ll never know. All I know is that I climbed into my window late at night and collapsed in writhing pain. I fell asleep on the floor, unable to get into bed. I slept through the entire day, and I woke up that night to hear my mother screaming. I dragged myself out of my room to see Crawford standing in the living room. I could smell the decay from the landing. He looked just how he had the last time I’d seen him, but worse. He walked on broken legs, groaning horribly. I watched as he lunged at my mother, burying his teeth in her neck. I heard her screaming. And then she stopped. He turned to me, and I was… Maybe I was afraid. But I was in awe. Crawford was alive. I wanted him in my arms, I didn't care if he tore me apart. I was about to call for him, but my father burst in with his gun. I watched my dear brother die a second time. And my father had me watch as he burned the remains. He wouldn't look at me. All he said was, ‘I told you, boy. Dead is better’. The rest doesn't matter. What does matter is that even though I didn't get the results I wanted. The experiment worked. The only flaw was that he’d been dead too long. But now we have another chance. It’s only been a few days, if we go now-”

Dan bolted upright, nearly falling off the couch before standing up. “What is wrong with you? I’m not turning my son into a monster for the sake of your experiments! How could you even suggest such a thing! I thought you were here for me, but all you think of is yourself!”

Herbert stood, walking toward Dan with that awful pleading look in his eyes. “It’s not just for me, Danny. It's for us. You could have Gage back! Think of it!”

“No! I’m not doing this! You’re sick, you know that? Sick!” Dan let the anger return, stronger than ever. He grabbed Herbert by the shoulders, shoving him against the wall. Herbert was still shouting something, but Dan didn't care. He threw a punch. Herbert dodged, and Dan’s fist connected with the wall. He whipped around, grabbing Herbert again, taking him to the floor. He was blind with rage, he couldn't tell if Herbert was fighting back or not. Maybe his hands wound up around Herbert’s neck. Maybe he felt Herbert's hand yanking at his hair. At some point, their mouths connected. Dan wasn't sure if he’d been the one to initiate it. But he didn't care.

When Dan pulled back for air, he felt like he could see clearly for the first time in days. Herbert’s face was flushed and his pupils were blown wide. God, he was beautiful. Herbert placed a hand on Dan’s cheek, it was warm and rough with callouses. Suddenly, Herbert stood. Dan whined at the loss, propping himself up on his elbows.

“Get on the couch Dan. I want to try something.”

“Wouldn’t a bed be more comfortable?”

“Too old for the floor, Danny?”

“I’ve never even seen your room.”

“It’s nothing special. Get on the couch.”

Dan flushed at the commanding tone. He stood himself up and went to the couch.

“Lie down on your back.”
Dan complied. He watched as Herbert slowly unbuttoned his shirt as he walked toward the couch. Dan’s heart beat faster as Herbert’s pale chest was exposed. Then Herbert was upon him, he knelt over Dan and pulled his collar to the side. Dan groaned as Herbert began mouthing at his neck. Then gasped when he felt Herbert bite down; hard. “Jesus, that hurt!”

Herbert sat up, “Sorry, I got carried away.”

Dan looked down at the mark that Herbert had left. Seeing the indents of Herbert’s teeth on his clavicle sent a rush of blood straight to his groin.

Herbert smirked, “I think you like that Danny.”

Dan tried to respond but Herbert was on him again, unbuttoning the man’s shirt as he went. He kissed and sucked and bit just hard enough to leave marks and have Dan squirming under him, but not enough to break skin. Dan reached for the man’s hips, wrapping his hands around Herbert’s small frame. He was in awe of how his thumbs almost met just above Herbert’s pelvis. “God, you’re tiny” He breathed.

Herbert nipped at Dan’s ear, yanking it with his teeth, causing him to yelp. “I’m almost as big as you.” Herbert huffed, grinding in Dan’s lap for emphasis.

“You know what I meant.”

“I did. Now shut up and let me fuck you.”

Dan could feel his face turning red. “I- I’ve never-”
“Relax Danny, this is what you need. Just lie back and let me do all the work. Okay?” Dan nodded. Herbert smiled, “Good boy.” Dan whimpered at the praise.

Herbert gave him a wicked grin as he released Dan from his shirt and his pants that had become achingly tight.

Herbert had been right, this was what he needed. He lay back, feeling like he never had before as Herbert took control. Being with Herbert was like nothing he’d ever done. When he was with Meg, he was gentle as could be. She liked things simple and straightforward, and Dan had never considered bringing up anything different. Herbert was a completely new experience.

The last time Dan had stayed the night he’d felt like an entirely different person. He was rough, shoving Herbert around like a ragdoll. And Herbert had whimpered and begged for more when Dan took him against the wall and hissed degrading things in his ear. And now, this was even more foreign. Dan lay with his neck exposed, covered in Herbert’s marks, eyes rolling in ecstasy as Herbert probed at places he’d never thought of exploring before. He tightened his grip on the other man’s shoulders, muscled legs wrapping around Herbert’s small waist. “God Herbert! You’re- I’m-”

Herbert brought a finger to Dan’s lips. “Shh. Just relax, let it happen.”

Dan focused on his breathing. On Herbert’s hot breath on his neck. On the pleasant throbbing of the marks that Herbert had left on his shoulders. It was all so much. And yet, not enough. “Please Herbert, I’m ready.” He groaned.

“Are you sure Danny?”

“God Herbert, please!”

“Say it, Dan.”

“Just fuck me already!”

“Good boy.” Herbet crooned. Dan squeezed his eyes shut and looked away, but he felt Herbert’s hand on his chin. “Look at me, Daniel.”

Dan looked. Herbert’s face was flushed a deep red and his hair clung to his forehead with sweat. Behind his glasses, his pupils were so large his irises almost looked completely black. He grabbed Herbert’s face and brought him in for a kiss as the man pushed in. It was surreal. He and Herbert were as intimately connected as they could be, and he wondered why he hadn't done this sooner. Herbert sank his teeth back into Dan’s shoulder, causing Dan to cry out. Whether it was from pain or pleasure, he couldn't tell anymore. He drew Herbert closer, closer, closer. He needed more. He felt like he was dying, and alive for the first time. He choked out Herbert’s name, begging for more.

“I know, Danny. I know.”

It was all too much, and not enough. Sweat running down his temple, teeth in his neck, sharp fingernails in his hips, hot breath and muttered curses. Maybe he screamed, maybe it didn't make a sound. Closer, closer, closer. And everything went blindingly white.

Chapter Text

Megan Cain awoke when the plane landed back in Chicago, with the knowledge that something was horribly wrong. She tried to ignore the thought at first. Everything in her life was wrong right now. Nothing would feel right ever again. But this was a different kind of wrong. It felt foreign in a way that terrified her so deeply that she cried out suddenly, bolting upright in her seat.
“Meg, sweetie, are you okay?” Her father Alan Halsey was holding her hand, stroking the back of it gently.
Meg only sobbed. Words were useless. Daddy couldn't understand. Nobody could. She tried to close her eyes, but the feeling came again. Something was wrong. She felt sick with knowledge. Knowledge that if she didn't get back to Maine right away, something awful would happen. Something more awful than she could ever dream of.
“I have to go back.” She didn't even realize she had said it aloud until her father responded.
“What are you talking about?”
“I need to go back. Something awful is about to happen.”
“Meg, honey. Let's just go home. You need some rest.”
For the first time in days, Meg felt completely sure of herself. “You’re not listening. I know something is wrong. Dan could be in trouble. I have to go back.”
Her father gripped her hand tightly. “Please Meg. Lets just go home and get some rest. You aren’t in your right mind.” His grip loosened slightly. “You know, when your mother died I had nightmares for months. The first week or so was the worst of it, but they continued for a long time. This is the same thing honey. My dreams told me terrible things, but I couldn’t let myself listen. I had to be there for you; I had to be strong for you. It’s your turn to be strong Meg. Can you do that?”
Meg stared at the seat in front of her. She could feel her resolution crumbling under the weight of her father’s words. Maybe he was right. She needed sleep.
She stayed silent as they disembarked from the plane, as they hailed a cab home, as she climbed the stairs to her room. She just needed some sleep.
…
Dan awoke on the couch in the West residence; cold, and alone. Everything hurt. And yet, something was alive inside him. Something made him stand, albeit slowly. And something made him put on his clothes, pull his coat on, and quietly creep out the front door.
The night air was chilly and oppressive. It felt rough in his throat with every breath he drew. The wind stung at his face and howled like an unseen beast. Dan found himself fumbling for his keys in his coat pocket and unlocking his car. The inside of the station wagon was frigid in a different way than the outside had been. The fabric of the seat was cold against his back and the wheel felt like ice on his hands. And the quiet. The unbearable quiet of it all.
Dan drove into the night feeling as if he were a dead man. The roads he’d become familiar with now seemed completely alien to him. The darkness that shrouded the trees and buildings he’d once used as landmarks was a different kind of dark. It was a cruel and taunting dark, that dared him to keep moving. When the car came to a stop, Dan realized he’d never turned the heat on. But that didn't matter now. He left the car parked in the thick shadow of an oak tree and headed for the wrought iron gate of the cemetery.
The gate wasn’t high and Dan scaled it with surprising ease. His boots landed on the frosty ground with a small “thunk”, and the pain in his knees he braced for never came. The small storage shed where he intended to take a shovel from was locked, but upon tugging the small rusted padlock, the entire latch came off in his hand. Dan dropped the broken pieces and opened the door. He didn't bother looking for a light, he simply rummaged around until he knew he felt a shovel in his hands.
Dan let his feet guide him to the right plot, the freshly turned earth calling out to him. He thrust the shovel downward into the waiting soil. He let the shovel tear chunks from the earth, widening the growing pit slowly but fiercely. His arms burned, but not with pain. His breaths were rapid and shallow.
Thunk.
Upon the first strike of polished wood, the shovel was abandoned. Dan dug on his hands and knees like an animal. He dug until the casket of his only son was bared to the moonlight.
…
Meg screamed. Something was so incredibly terribly wrong. She sat up in bed, sweating profusely. She’d been dreaming of something terrible. It had started out as a dream about Gage. He was outside on the lawn, the sun shining in his blonde hair. He was giggling his precious giggle that Meg loved so much. She knelt down, cupping his face and planting a kiss on his head. Then she drew back and froze in horror. His face was pale and blue, cold on her fingers. Before her eyes, large scrapes, gashes, and bruises began to appear all over him. Clothing and flesh peeled away, exposing muscle and broken bone. Then she had screamed herself awake.
God, it was so terrible. She tightened her hands into fists, trying to will away how shaky she felt all over. She was sure now; something was very wrong was happening back in that yellow house in Maine and she had to go back. Meg stood up from the bed, noticing she was still dressed. She slipped her shoes on and crept out of the bedroom. She could hear snoring coming from her father’s room. Careful not to make much noise, she tiptoed down the stairs, and across the living room, to the phone. She picked it up quietly and carefully dialed the cab company.
She gave the details as quietly as she could, having to repeat herself a few times. But she finished the call without waking her father. Then she crept to the entry way, pulled a coat from the closet, and undid the locks on the front door. It whined loudly as she opened it, making her wince. She scurried out, closing it quickly behind her.
The cold outside was bitter; the coat seemed to barely make a difference. But if she waited in the house she could be caught. And she feared what her father could do to her mind if he was to open his mouth. Once in an argument Dan had called her a coward and a pushover.
“You never say no to him! You let him control everything about your life! How can you live like this?” He’d shouted. And Meg had crumbled to the floor in tears.
She’d never been able to say no to people, her father most of all. And she could never defend herself. She took every awful thing ever about her as fact. Dan had been right. She couldn’t live like this.
In the cold night, alone in the dark, Meg swore that she would change. She’d go back to Maine, make things right, and then- she didn’t quite know what. Maybe she would stay with Dan. She did love him. She loved him more than she’d loved any man in her life. But how much longer could she stand just being a wife? Life had been fulfilling as a mother. It was a beautiful purpose to have. But that was gone now.
Maybe she would stay in Maine, but not with Dan. He could remain in her life, if they could separate amicably. And she would become…What would she become? As a little girl she dreamed of being a ballerina. She was far too old for that now. In college she’d studied English. It was one of the few majors her father approved of her taking. But she couldn’t see herself as a writer or anything like that.
A particularly cold gust of wind distracted her from her daydream. It was silly to try and figure out her whole future here and now. She saw headlights approaching, most likely that cab. She stood up straight and took a deep breath. She’d think about this later, she had a whole life ahead of her to do so.
…
The body was heavy. But nothing would stop him now. Not after all he’s been through. How he got back over the fence, he wasn’t sure. But that doesn't matter. He was in the car again, his son in the backseat. Every now and then he looked in the rearview mirror. He smiled seeing Gage slumbering in his car seat. So peaceful. Everything will be just as it should. Just a little longer.
Once the car was parked in the driveway, Dan scooped Gage from the backseat. Without so much as a glance at the house next door, he began toward the woods. Toward the path.
Despite his burden, Dan moved hastily through the shadows. The moon was bright white in the sky, casting a strange light on the woods. Every now and then, thick clouds would cover it, and the path was in near total darkness. But nothing could stop him. He felt no aches in his muscles, none of the bruises or scrapes he’d sustained on the journey. None of the pain in his heart. When he reached the deadfall, he didn’t hesitate to take the first step.
A world of fog engulfed him. Pure milky white nothingness stretched on for miles in every direction. With every step it got thicker, until it weighed heavy on his shoulders. Step after step, he traversed the foggy void. Rational thought began to seep back into Dan’s mind. He should be past the deadfall by now. But he kept walking. Miles into the nothingness, fog thick in his lungs, he saw something ahead.
A shape so black it pierced through the fog like an unbearable shadow. It was tall, taller than a person, and still so far away. Bramble-like antlers stretched from what must be its head. It hunched like a creature but moved like a man. Taking in the sight, Dan felt the purest fear he’d ever known. It coursed through his veins like a drug. He wanted to run, to hide, to scream. He kept walking. Closer and closer to the evil thing. It shifted, he could feel its gaze on him. His foot touched solid ground. The fog was gone, the deadfall behind him. He almost sobbed with relief, but he still had a ways to go.
...
Meg arrived at the airport at midnight. It seemed so strange without the crowds she was used to. She made her way to the booking desk at a brisk pace, feeling nervous, but not the same panic she felt upon waking.
“When is the next flight to Maine?” Meg asked at the booking desk.
“I’ll get that right away ma’am.”
Meg bounced on her heels anxiously as the attendant clacked her fingers across the keyboard.
“I’m sorry, but there isn’t one scheduled until tomorrow afternoon at two thirty.”
Meg felt panic coming back. “No, no. It’s urgent! Are there any connecting flights?”
“I’m sorry. Tomorrow afternoon is the soonest.”
Meg clenched her jaw. She wouldn’t cry. She wouldn’t. She took a deep breath, reassuring herself that whatever was happening in Maine could be fixed then. “Okay.” She said, pulling her wallet from her pocket, “Put me on it.”
…
Dan arrived at the burial ground at midnight. The moon reflected off the stones. They glinted like the eyes of a horrible creature, its piercing gaze unavoidable in the night. He walked to the center, placing Gage on the ground carefully. As he stood upright, he realized something horrible. He hadn’t brought a shovel.
“Damn it! Damn it damn it damn it!” He paced around in circles, feeling utterly lost and broken. This was his chance to make things right, and it had slipped from his fingers. Something brushed against his back. He whirled around angrily, ready to attack. There was nothing. But against a pile of stone, something gleamed. A shovel. He approached it slowly, he didn’t remember leaving one here when he’d buried Church. Or the mice. He picked it up, it was smaller than the one he owned. And it was old. But it broke ground as it should. For the second time that night, Dan dug.
Voices rang in his ears as he dug. He could hear Meg pleading. Herbert’s crazed mumbles, Dr Hill’s warnings. An unfamiliar voice rumbled something about the soul of a man’s heart. He continued to dig. When the hole was large enough, he carefully lowered Gage down. He whispered a reassurance into his son's ear before he shoveled the stony dirt back into place. In some strange way, he was tucking him in for the night.
...
With nothing she could do, Meg tried to sleep. She sat in an armchair closing her eyes, willing herself to calm down and drift off. But her heart was racing. She could hear blood pumping in her ears.
“Calm down.” She told herself. “You’re being silly.”
At last, she fell asleep. Unfortunately, she dreamed. She found herself in a white void. The air around her felt thick, unnatural. She blinked, and Gage was in front of her.
“Mommy?”
Meg wanted to run to him, but she couldn’t move.
“Mommy?” Gage said again, his voice quivering.
“I’m here Gage.” She tried to say. “I’m here.” But she couldn’t speak.
Gage began screaming, the sound echoing unnaturally. Then he began to grow. His form shifted, like it was breaking and being made whole again all at once. After a cacophony of grotesque squelching, cand cracking noises, someone entirely different stood before her.
He was young, no older than twelve, wearing a maroon sweater and khaki pants. “Meg?” he asked.
Suddenly, she could speak again. “Who are you?”
“Nobody anymore.”
“What do you want?”
“You can’t go back.”
“I need to. I know something is wrong.”
“I know. I know. But you aren’t a part of this. Don’t let the road take you as well. Not when you can still turn around.”
Meg felt tears in her eyes. “Dan’s in trouble, I can feel it.”
“He’s too far-gone Meg. There’s nothing left for him. Leave. Go back home.”
“That’s what I’m doing.”
Then, the boy was right in front of her, skin peeling from his face, brown eyes clouded over, jaw broken. “LEAVE!” He screamed, and Meg woke up.
She clutched at her racing heart, panting and sweating as if she’d run a mile. She couldn’t let herself be frightened away from what she had to do. She sat back in the chair and sighed. The clock on one of the walls read 3am. She’d have to find something to do for the next several hours.

…
Dan didn’t remember the walk back to the house. But he must have come back at some point, because he awoke in his own bed. Sunlight streamed through the windows, making him squint. How late in the day was it? He should get up. But his eyes were so heavy. He shifted slightly, and everything burned. He blinked, trying to piece the previous night together. He remembered the grave yard, the path, the burial ground. The deadfall. Memories of the numbness and the fear made his stomach feel cold. He tried to think of something warm. He remembered Herbert, lying beneath him on the couch. Reaching up and touching his face. Holding him, kissing him. He should have felt guilty. Should have felt sick. Dan was still married. Herbert was a man. But God, he still craved him. He thought of Herbert as he drifted back to sleep.
When he dreamed, it wasn’t quite a dream. More of a memory. He was crossing the deadfall after burying Gage. The fog was so thick and never ending, he was so tired, in so much pain, that he stopped. He stood there in the fog, catching his breath. Then he fell. He plummeted down, brambles catching in his clothing and his skin. He hit the ground and opened his eyes. Darkness surrounded him. It wasn’t thick like the fog, but it felt…viscous. It seemed to flow when he waved his barely visible hand in front of his face.
“Hello?” he called. “Is anyone here?”
He didn’t know what he expected. He was probably the only person for miles, trapped in a prison of brambles for the rest of the foreseeable future.
Then something rumbled. The darkness thrummed around him. He didn’t know what made him do it, but he called out again in a small voice, “Herbert?”
Then, someone was there in front of him. A young boy maybe? In the darkness he could just make out baggy clothing, short messy hair, and large glasses.
“Who are you?” The boy asked, sounding almost annoyed.
“I’m Dan.”
“What are you doing here?”
“I don’t know.”
The boy huffed. “Seems like nobody does.”
Dan tried to get to his feet, and realized he felt no pain anymore. “Am I…dead?”
“It’s a small possibility.”
“Are there others here?”
“Yeah. Don’t bother asking them anything. They’re all…strange.”
Dan put his hands in his pockets, shifting on his heels. “Strange how?”
“They’re old, cruel. And they can’t answer any of my questions. The Indians aren’t as bad, but they don’t understand me at all.”
Dan swallowed. “The Indians?”
“Yes. Jeez, will you catch up?”
Dan felt an urge to cuff the kid on the head, snap at him for his rudeness. But it went as quickly as it came. This is a child. He looks maybe ten or eleven at most. A question fell from his lips before he can stop it.
“Are you okay?”
The kid straightened, then sagged. Dan heard him gulping in large mouthfuls of air, like he was trying not to cry. Dan pulled him into a hug, felt the kid sobbing into his shoulder. “It’s okay” He whispered “You’re gonna be okay.”
Suddenly, something had the back of his shirt in an iron grip, yanking him backwards. Dan yelped, the pressure taking him by surprise. He let go of the child, who cried out as Dan was pulled away. Dan tried to fight the pull, tried to at least grab back onto the boy and take him too. But he was moving fast, not just backward, but up. He broke through a layer of brambles that tore him up yet again and found himself in the fog again.
Someone yanked him to his feet. “Move!”
Dan opened his eyes; it was the boy. No, his hair was different he had no glasses. “Who-“
“GO!”
Dan woke up from the memory, heart racing just as fast as it had been when he started running. When he finally emerged from the deadfall. The sun trough the window hit his eyes, and he held up a hand to block it. He looked at the alarm clock on the side of the bed. Five pm. The sun was setting.
He felt his senses slowly coming back, a hint of numbness accompanying them. He sat up and put on his shoes. Gage should be back by now.

…

The plane landed at 5pm. The flight had been uneventful besides for the near hysterical panic that was growing in Meg’s mind with every passing minute. She had been plagued with nightmares every time she closed her eyes. The closer she got to Maine, they worse they became. Now she was here. All that was left to do was hail a taxi and let it take her back to the house. That horrible yellow house.

…

Dan rushed downstairs, looking for any sign of his son. Everything looked the same as it did before. But wait, his medical bag. It was on the floor now. It had been on the edge of the table before. The contents were spilled, like it had been pulled down. He surveyed the supplies as he put them back, mentally taking inventory. Only one thing was unaccounted for, the scalpel.
He rose, leaving the bag forgotten on the floor. Something wasn’t right. “Herbert.” his head told him. He needed to find Herbert. He walked slowly to the front door, shivering as a cool breeze hit him. The door was slightly open. He didn't remember getting home, but why would he have left it open? He closed the door behind him as he left the house and jogged as quickly as he could with his sore legs to the porch of the West residence. The wind outside howled. The setting sun cast a red glow around the bare and gnarled trees. He climbed the porch steps, breathing heavily. As he expected, the door was wide open.
Dan stepped inside carefully, looking around the living room. It was neat and clean as it had always been. Nothing was out of place. The walls were right, the couch was still covered in plastic, though it was a bit rumpled now. But the floor, the always perfectly clean floor now sported a trail of smudges, leading toward the stairs. Dan leaned down for a closer look. Muddy tracks with tiny shoe prints. Dan recognized them as the soles of toddler-size loafers. Loafers that were picked from Gage’s selection of shoes and never seen again when it was decided the casket would be better off closed. Heart racing, Dan followed them upstairs.

Dan had never seen the upstairs of the West residence before. Only the basement, living room, kitchen, and the downstairs bathroom. A door was slightly ajar, most likely a bedroom. Herbert’s bedroom? Dan crept forward and gently pulled the door open. The sight was overwhelming; it was nothing like Dan had imagined the room of Herbert West to look like. But most jarring of all was Herbert himself, crumpled on the floor in a pool of blood.

Dan rushed to his side. “Herbert! Can you hear me?”

“You’re here.” Herbert gurgled weakly.

Careful not to touch him just yet, Dan gave Herbert a once-over. There was a long gash on his right side, and another down his leg. His good leg.

Dan pulled his jacket off and bunched it up slightly, pressing it to the wound on Herbert’s side. “Hold on Herb. I’m gonna get you help.”

Herbert reached up, hand brushing Dan’s cheek. His glasses were broken on the floor next to him.

”You’re here.” Herbert said again.

”I’m here.” Dan reassured. “What happened?”

“I missed you so much.”

“I know. I’m so sorry I left you alone. I should have taken you with me. You were the one who showed me the-”

”I never-I never told you-“ Herbert gasped wetly, his brown eyes wide and darting around the room.

Dan finally took in his surroundings properly. “Oh my god.” He breathed. The walls were covered in pictures, sketches, and paintings. All of the same person. Crawford. The same few photographs were copied dozens of times and pasted onto the walls. Sketches of the boy as a teenager and a grown man were plastered over one of the windows. In front of the other stood a child-size mannequin, dressed in a maroon sweater and khaki slacks. Large paintings of Herbert and Crawford together as children were propped on easels, paint splatters dried on the floor. Among the photographs and drawings were diagrams and clippings from scientific journals and notes. Each one that Dan could make out had to do with death…and the prospect of reversing it.

Herbert whined and grabbed Dan’s shoulder, trying to prop himself up. “I never told you-“ He wheezed again. I never told you I love you.”

“No, no, no. Don't say that. Don’t move. You're gonna be okay.”

Herbert sighed, letting himself back down. “Yeah. It’s gonna be okay. I’m gonna fix this Crawford. I’m gonna fix this.”

Dan felt a surge of grief. Herbert was delirious. Like he had been in the lab. At least this time he wasn’t angry. Suddenly, Herbert reached out and grabbed Dan’s shirt, his eyes wild. “It’s here!”

Dan cried out as he felt a sharp pain in his back. He wretched around, looking to see what happened. The sharpness was pulled away, but the pain remained. A small figure, covered in blood and dirt stood behind him, holding a gleaming scalpel. “Oh god.”

He pried Herbert’s hand away, turning around to face his son. The last remains of the sunset came through the window, illuminating Gage in a red glow. Through the filth, Dan saw a little blue suit, tiny black loafers, and shiny blonde hair. Then it was like all the blood and dirt that covered him washed away in an instant, leaving only his shining boy behind.

Dan crawled forward and grabbed his son tightly by the shoulders. “Gage, it’s me, Daddy!

Gage smiled. “Daddy.”

Dan nodded quickly, a lump forming in his throat. “Yes, yes Gage! It’s Daddy!” He pulled the boy into a hug, tears flowing down his cheeks. Then he heard Herbert behind him.

“Crawford, no!”

Dan pulled away, suddenly coming out of a trance.

Bloody, dirty Gage raised the scalpel again, driving it into Dan’s shoulder, dragging it down, slicing as it went. Dan screamed, pulling away and standing. “Gage, what are you doing! You know who I am, Gage!”

His son’s laughter bubbled from the awful thing’s mouth, and Dan was suddenly filled with rage. This thing wasn't his son. It was some bastardization of the boy he loved. His little boy was gone, and this beast was in his place. Dan grabbed the first weapon he could reach, a floor lamp that he brandished. “Stay back!” He barked.
But the beast ran forward. Dan swung the metal pole of the lamp, feeling the impact as it connected with the creature, sending it backwards. He took a step closer and raised it above his head, intending to bring it down upon the wretched thing. But as he swung, it rolled out of the way, faster than it should have been able. The thing was on its feet again and launched itself at Dan’s leg. Before he could react, it had latched on with the scalpel and its tiny teeth. Dan roared, bringing the base of the lamp down upon its head. The thing let go, falling backward but getting back up just as fast as it fell.

Dan was losing breath, every inch of his body was sore, and the wounds in his back, shoulder, and leg were screaming in pain. Dan braced himself, brandishing the lamp once again. The thing growled lowly, preparing for another charge. Then a voice from downstairs made them both startle.

”Dan, are you in here?”

Oh god. It was Meg. The thing turned on its heels and began to run, Dan sprinting after it. He nearly dove down the stairs, trying to keep it from reaching Meg. As it reached the last step, Dan caught up. He grabbed it, trying to keep its limbs pinned as it wriggled and screeched. At the sight of her blood covered husband wrangling a toddler sized monster, Meg screamed, her face turning chalk white.

Dan kept his arms tight, bracing himself and charged at the wall, slamming the thing against it. He slammed over and over until it went still, and he let it fall to the floor. He panted heavily, covered in blood and crumbled bits of the wall. He turned to look at Meg, knowing what he must look like.

“Meg.” He sobbed. “Meg, this is all my fault. I tried to fix it, but I- I failed. I’m so sorry Meg.”

Meg took a hesitant step forward. “Danny, what’s going on?”

“God, I’m gonna sound insane if I tell you.”

”I trust you Danny, Just please, let me know what I can do.”

Meg crossed the distance, pulling him into a hug. Dan sobbed into her shoulder, conscious of the filth he was spreading to perfect and innocent Meg. How can he tell her the truth? How can he expose her to the horrors in this awful world? Her arms suddenly tightened to a vice-like grip, and she screamed. Dan pulled back in horror. The beast wasn’t on the floor anymore. It stood behind Meg, the scalpel inserted just above her knee. She crumpled to the ground, and the creature pulled the blade out, circling to face her. Dan was frozen. He desperately wanted to save her, to fight that wretched thing off again. But he couldn’t move an inch.

Meg’s eyes widened, Dan waited for a scream, but it didn’t come. Instead, she smiled. “Gage” she whispered, holding out her arms. “Oh Gage, it's you.” Dan watched as the awful creature toddled toward her slowly. Then it wrapped its arms around her, leaning into the embrace. Meg hummed softly, tears rolling down her cheeks as she hugged her son once again. Then Dan saw a gleam of metal. Meg made a choking sound, going slack. The creature stepped back, letting her collapse, a trickle of blood starting to pool around her neck.

His trance was broken, he launched himself at the horrible monster, fueled on the most powerful adrenaline he'd ever felt. He pinned the thing to the floor, grabbing the scalpel from its hand. He drove the blade into its chest with such fury he could barely see. All he knew is the squelch of flesh beneath the blade, the smell of blood, and the pain all over his body. Finally, he stopped. He sat back on his knees, letting the scalpel fall from his hand.

He took in the sight of his bloody hands, the foul corpse in front of him, Meg lying there. If she wasn’t covered in blood she could be sleeping. He crawled over to her, taking her face in his hands, then pulling back at the sight of the blood from his hands staining her cheeks. He knew she was dead. He couldn’t fix this. The he remembered Herbert upstairs. Maybe he could still save him. He sprinted back to the bedroom, falling to his knees next to Herbert. The man lay still in the pool of blood. Eyes blank.

No.

No, no, no.

What had Dan done? Where was it that he went so wrong? How long had it been since he had been able to save someone? Was that the last life he would ever save?

 

“Not fresh enough” He heard Herbert’s voice in his head. “Left to rot for too long.” Something cold and dark settled in Dan’s stomach, the pain dulling.

Two bodies, one upstairs, one down. Both fresh. He’s weakened considerably, even with the influence of the Burial Ground, he can only manage one.

Meg, sweet Meg. She didn't deserve any of this. Herbert, with his knowledge and experience, if he could continue his work he could make a breakthrough. He could cure death once and for all.

Love. Knowledge. Innocence. Power. Dan slowly heaved himself upright. He looks at Herbert. He thinks of Meg.

Meg. Herbert. Meg. Herbert.

Dan took a final look around the room. A final look inside himself. And made his choice.