Episode 020
The Raging Host
(note - this episode takes place immediately after episode 015 - The Day After)
November 1982
“Ok, kids,” said Lucy, “It’s time for you to go home!”
“But-” stammered Christopher, “What’s going on? Who’s Alec Chino?”
“Alec Chino is just one name he uses. He’s their leader. The Balatron. He’s the Harlequin...the wild huntsman...the-”
“Hell Kin.” said Marie, “That’s what you called him. He’s the devil.”
“Well,” said Lucy, “I don’t know about THE devil, but yeah, he might as well be. You kids need to get home and Steven and I are leaving now.”
“What happened to your shadow?” asked Christopher.
Lucy looked down at herself.
“Molly. Her name is Molly. And she’s gone. For now at least. Hopefully she’ll come back. She always has before.”
Lucy opened up a closet and pulled out a big duffel bag. Reaching in she gripped two revolvers, checked the chambers on each and handed one to Steve before placing the other back in the bag which she slung over her shoulder.
“WHAT?” exclaimed Marie and Christopher in unison.
“Sorry kids.” Lucy told them, “I didn’t bring enough guns for everyone.”
“Umm...that’s OK.” said Christopher. “I don’t think our mom would want us shooting people anyway.”
“Well,” Lucy told the kids, “I can give you a ride home, at least. It must be close to your dinner time.”
“What time is it?” asked Marie, “It’s so dark out.”
“It’s almost five o’clock-” Lucy started as she opened the front door, stopping speechless upon seeing the world outside.
Dark red clouds filled the sky, blotting out the already setting sun. A cold mist rolled silently down Cooperton Avenue wrapping itself around the houses like greedy fingers. It filled the street.
“What’s happening?” said Marie.
“Umm,” Lucy said, “It’s just a bit foggy out. Let’s get in the car.” As she stepped out onto the walkway through her tree-shrouded yard, the street lights flickered and died, plunging the neighborhood into a darkness broken only by the silvery glow of the mist lit by the rising moon.
The faint sound of unearthly whispers filled the air.
Ghostly figures emerged from the mist - apparitions of children clad in the tattered remnants of halloween costumes and false faces depicting grotesque grins, eyes hollow and wide like bottomless pits.They moved with a jerky, unnatural cadence, their laughter like the clinking of broken glass. Among them prowled spectral, beastly lions. The eyes of the great cats glowed with fire and their maws dripped with the essence of nightmares. They advanced along Cooperton like a ghoulish parade.
Lucy tightened her grip on the duffel bag,"Get behind me, kids. Stay close."
A figure emerged at the forefront of the ghostly procession, towering above the rest. In a suit of red with black diamond pattern and a mask that sported a comically long nose, he stepped forward.
"Lucy Raymond," Alec's voice boomed, "it's time to finish what we started. I have come for the key."
Lucy swallowed hard, feeling the weight of the revolver at her side. She turned to the kids, her voice steady despite the fear gnawing at her. "We just have to get to the car. Together."
Quivering, Marie and Christopher followed Steve and Lucy to the driveway.
The Raging Host moved like a storm, a swirling force of ghostly children and strange beasts ripping through the quiet suburban night. Windows shattered, doors burst open, and the very ground seemed to tremble under their ethereal weight.
The air grew colder as Alec calmly stepped toward Lucy’s yard, his eyes glowing with malevolent delight.
"Stay close and move quickly." said Lucy, brandishing her gun in the direction of the chaos.
The children nodded, and together they made their way down the walkway, their footsteps silent against the howling storm. As they reached the edge of the yard, one of the wraithlike children lunged forward, its face twisted in a ghastly grin. Lucy fired, the gunshot ringing out. The apparition dissipated into the mist, but more took its place, their laughter echoing across the darkened neighborhood.
Alec Chino watched them with an amused smile, his eyes gleaming. "You can't escape, Lucy. The hunt is upon you!”
Ignoring his taunts, Lucy led the children to the car, throwing open the doors and pushing them inside. She took one last look at the advancing host before climbing into the driver's seat, then started the engine and slammed her foot on the gas, speeding away from the house.
The mist followed them, clinging to the car like a spiderweb, but the spectral figures faded into the darkness. Lucy clutched the steering wheel, her eyes scanning the road ahead.
"We can't go home," Christopher said suddenly. "They'll find us there."
“I don’t think they’re after you.” said Lucy.
“What are they after?” cried Marie.
“A long time ago Alec attacked me because he was looking for the key.” Lucy told the kids.
Tires screeched as she swerved the car sharply to avoid a shadowy figure dashing across the road.
“The key?” Christopher asked, his voice shaky. “Key to what?”
Darting down Cooperton, Lucy took a sharp left on 44th street. The mist twisted and pursued them.
“It’s from an old book. The key was an alchemist's attempt at understanding the Voiceless. He created symbols that converted their way of doing things into something humans could...use.”
Lucy reached Westfield Ave. But her path was blocked by a swarm of phantasms.
“Where are you even going?” asked Steve.
“Barry’s.”
“Who the fuck is Barry?” Steve cursed at her.
“LANGUAGE!” she berated.
A shadowy feline predator the size of a bear jumped on the hood of the car. A crowd of spectral children gathered around, encircling them. Among them stood familiar faces from school and the neighborhood all dressed in Halloween costumes.
“Shelly!” shouted Marie at a ghostly child who resembled her friend from school, Michelle Cohen, wearing the princess costume she’d worn the previous Friday at the school Halloween party. Her eyeless face pressed up against the car window.
Marie started to roll her window down, but Christopher grabbed her hand.
“Stop!” she said to her brother as she wriggled out of his grasp. “Shelly’s hurt. She needs help!”
“That’s not Shelly!” said Christopher. “That’s a ghost...or something.”
The car shifted as the great cat climbed on top of it, the weight of the creature causing the roof to sag.
“It’s gonna squish us!” Marie cried, tears running down her face.
The spirit children gathered closer to the vehicle and began pounding on it as more animals descended.
“Step on the gas!” said Steve.
“What?” gasped Lucy. “We’re surrounded.”
“Just do it!”
Lucy did as Steve commanded. The tires spun out for a moment on the road but the car started moving.
“Harder!” Steve shouted.
Lucy gunned it and the car pushed through the cluster of apparitions as if it were driving through gelatin. Progress was slow, but they were moving.
Marie broke entirely free of Christopher’s hand and rolled the window down again, trying to reach out to the specter of Shelly, but it was too late. The car had moved away from her. Another ghost in the crowd peered in through the window. An older boy dressed in a football uniform complete with helmet leaned toward her. He seemed to be trying to grab at her, but both of his arms ended in mutilated stumps, as if his hands had been bitten off.
Before she could register what she saw, a gigantic paw with long, razor sharp claws came batting into the window from above as the ghostly lion on the roof of the car made its strike.
Marie screamed in terror as the car accelerated and careened around the bend on to Westfield Avenue, throwing the incorporeal beast clear off of the vehicle. Once clear of the throng of ghosts they gained speed quickly and were soon a few blocks down the road. The host and the mists faded into the rearview mirror.
“Are we safe now?” asked Christopher.
“I don’t know.” said Lucy.
“Where are we even going?” asked Steve.
“Somewhere safe, I hope.” she replied.
They arrived at a small building tucked away at the end of a narrow alley. A faded sign above the door read “Barry’s Occult Shop.” Lucy parked the car and quickly ushered the kids inside, locking the door behind them before the chime bell had even finished ringing.
Emerging from behind a beaded curtain, the oldest man the kids had ever seen entered the room, with a lean, hunched frame, and a face etched with deep lines and covered with several days of bristly white stubble. The man pierced them with his icy gray eyes. He wore a thread-worn old bathrobe that might once have been royal blue over a tank top and pajama pants. Around his neck hung several amulets and charms covered in esoteric symbols.
“Lucy? What are you doing here at this hour?” he grumbled.
“It’s only a quarter after five!” she responded.
“Is it then?” the man said as he peered out the window. Between ominous red clouds the full moon had already begun to rise in the eastern sky. “I’ll make coffee.”
“Who is this guy?” Marie piped up to Lucy.
“This is Barry. Of Barry’s Occult Shop. Surely you’ve heard of this place.”
“I heard of it.” said Christopher. “My big brother, Johnny, told me about it. He said it’s for devil worshippers. He bought some incest here once.”
“I’m sure he meant incense.” corrected Lucy.
“Yeah. It smelled funny.”
Steve whispered in frustration. “Lucy, we need to get away from here. We already have these two kids with us and now you want us to drag a hundred year old man along?”
“Ninety-one as of last month.” said Barry, “I’m what they call a Virgo-Libra cusp. That means I never miss a detail and I keep it together when the rest of the world is falling to shit. Miss Lucy here brought you to my shop for a reason, and she’s nobody’s fool, so chances are you brats are in a mess and you need the kind of help that only old Barry can getcha.”
“It’s Chino, Barry.” said Lucy. “He’s here and he’s brought the wild hunt. Ghost children. A sky turned red. The whole thing. Like. End days shit.”
“Bah.” said Barry. “That guy’s all hot air. Did I ever tell you about how I got out of my contract with him?”
“We don’t have time for old stories, Barry. We need to put a stop to this. Quick.”
“You need to soak up the blood.”
“What?” asked Steve.
“The blood.” Barry said, “This whole damn town is built on blood. The whole country really, but especially here. Spilt time and time again over the ages. All the way back to the beginning. This land has been haunted since before the Lenape lived here. They called it Pemsithoking (Pem-sit-hau-ken)* - the walker’s land. Sensitive souls from before the coming of white folk and after often have visions of the dead here. Specters of loved ones who met violent ends, remnants of Revolutionary War soldiers, ghosts of children slaughtered by beasts in ages long gone by.”
“I saw that!” said Marie. “My friend, Shelly got eaten by a lion!”
“We all saw it.” said Christopher.
“No! I mean. A long time ago. She visited me in my dreams. When the shower- umm- when I saw a ghost.”
“Wait. The shower curtain people are real, aren’t they?” asked a shocked Christopher.
“The what people?” asked Steve.
“Shower curtain...ghosts that live in the walls of our house. I used to make fun of Marie for seeing them.”
“YOU STILL DO!”
“Well, that was before all...this.” Christopher said, waving his arms around. “So, when you saw the shadow people in the walls...that was...”
“The Voiceless.” said Lucy.
“But why did I see a ghost of Shelly? She’s not dead. I saw her in school TODAY.”
“Time travel.” said Barry, plainly.
“Oh come on now.” scoffed Lucy.
“You and I have both seen stranger things than that.” Barry said. “The Voiceless. Their ways. Their technology for want of a better word. It’s all about manipulating dimensions. Time is a dimension. It’s not much of a stretch to think they can move back and forth along it.”
“So,” Lucy said, “you think the clowns took the children back in time and...fed them to the lions? Like ancient Romans persecuting Christians?”
“Like a sacrifice!” added Steve.
“That’s the very thing!” said Barry. “A massive blood sacrifice on this land. It kicked off millenia of violence and bloodshed.”
“I saw like a hundred kids get into an ice cream truck!” exclaimed Christopher. “No way they could all fit in there. But I saw it! It was just - it was just last night.”
“The bad ice cream,” said Marie. “I tasted it and it made me want to get on the truck. Like my brain was being controlled!”
“So the Balatron lured kids onto the truck with that ice cream,” said Steve. “They somehow used Voiceless methods to...I don’t know...make space inside the truck. Then they took the truck to some time in the past and...”
“Threw the children to the lions,” said Barry. “You kids aren’t the first people to see things like that here. Ghosts and strange creatures simply appearing around town. Back when I was a very young man a demonic beast attacked a trolley car I was riding. Folks said it was the Jersey Devil. I believed so at the time, but now I know better.”
“How do we save them?” asked Marie. “How do we save Shelly?”
“I’m afraid it’s far, far too late for that, little girl. Your friend is long, long gone.”
“But we saw her and all of the other kids in school today!” said Christopher.
“No,” said Steve. “You didn’t see them. Those kids were Fetches. Like me. Changelings. Replacements for the real kids.”
“No!” cried Marie. “Shelly ain’t dead! I saw her TODAY.”
“But you saw her ghost tonight,” said Christopher. This only caused his sister to sob uncontrollably.
“Enough, kids!” commanded Lucy. “We don’t know what happened to Shelly or anyone else for certain. But we do know that the Balatron are out there. They’ve amassed a small army of the dead and they will kill us if we let them. Now we need to figure out how to make sure that doesn’t happen!”
“Well,” said Barry, “Like I said, we need to sop up the blood. Cleanse the land.”
“What are we supposed to do?” snapped Lucy, “Scrub the whole town with salt and seltzer water?”
“Salt, yes. It is an essential ingredient to dealing with unholy things.” he dashed to the back of the shop and popped back again, hefting a fifty pound bag of rock salt.
“Why do you have that?” asked Christopher.
“Winter is on its way, kid. If I slip and break something on an icy driveway, it’s lights out for ol’ Barry.”
“So, what are we supposed to do with that?” Marie asked, her face wet with tears.
“We need to go to the origin point.” said Barry.
“Origin point?” asked Steve. “Origin of what?”
“Everything.” Barry said, “The place where this blood sacrifice was held. The spot where the children were fed to the lions.”
“That doesn’t even make sense!” said Christopher. “There aren’t any lions in Amon Heights!”
“Not now, no. But...” began Steve.
“But nothing!” said Christopher. “The last time there were lions in this part of the world was something like...twelve thousand years ago!”
“Well.” said Lucy, “Then the blood has soaked Amon Heights for a very very long time.”
“Hmmm...” mused Barry, “It’s an old stain. A deep dark stain of blood. So immersed into the soil that it’s impossible to tell where the violence ends and the land begins. Where would we even go to find the source of this blood ritual.”
In unison Lucy, Christopher, and Marie said, “The Blood Red House.”
“The what?” asked Barry.
“Our old house...on Cooperton Avenue.” Christopher explained. “Lucy used to live there too. It’s like a magnet for evil.”
“It’s where the Shower Curtain People live!” shouted Marie, “And I’ve seen ghosts there all the time!”
“So this house.” began Barry, “This house is where it starts? This house could be the...the nexus.”
“The what?” asked Marie.
“The center point!” explained Barry, “If we can cleanse this blood red house, maybe we can stop Alec once and for all. If we break his connection to our world, he won’t have any more power.”
“And what about the Voiceless?” asked Steve.
“What about them?” Barry returned.
“They’re not affiliated with Alec Chino. They aren’t really evil, are they? They’re just...alien. They don’t mean to hurt people.”
“So what?” said Christopher.
“So...if we destroy this...this nexus...if we break this connection to our world what happens to them?” asked Steve, “What happens to me?”
“Oh honey.” said Lucy. “I don’t think anything will happen to you. You aren’t really one of them.”
“But ain’t I?” said Steve, “At least in part?”
“I-I don’t know really.” said Lucy, “But if we don’t stop this raging host from destroying us it won’t matter what becomes of the Voiceless. What becomes of you or of Molly.”
"But that’s not fair” Steve said, “Molly, the Voiceless...me. We didn’t do anything wrong!”
Barry frowned, stroking his grizzled chin. “That’s a dangerous assumption, son. The Voiceless operate on a plane of understanding separate from ours. To them, our suffering might be little more than an experiment or a necessary side effect of their actions.”
Lucy interjected, her gaze distant. "Alec Chino and his unholy host are the threat. The Voiceless...Molly has always been my friend. My protector. But I’ve never truly understood her. Maybe the shadow people are just as bad as this Halloween freak show army."
Barry sighed. "That’s the gist of it, yeah. Alec is the enemy for sure - He’s looking to bring this entire town to its knees."
Christopher’s voice trembled as he spoke, “So what do we do?”
Lucy hefted the bag of salt onto her shoulder, “We go to the red house, and we end this. Once and for all.”
The children stared wide-eyed at the ragtag group of adults they had stumbled into this nightmare with, while outside the shop, the mist began to thicken once more, swirling like a hungry maw ready to devour them all.
"Okay," Lucy said, breaking the tense silence. "So, we take the salt, we go to the house, and we... what? Sprinkle it around? Perform some kind of ritual?"
Barry nodded, a glint in his eye. “Yes, and I have just the thing. We’ll need to spread the salt across the house’s foundation—inside and out. But more than that, we’ll need something to bind the spirits, something to keep them from slipping away.”
“I have an old rosary,” Lucy offered. “From my grandma. Will that help?”
Barry shook his head. “It’s not about religious symbols. We need something personal. Something connected to the land itself.”
“The blood,” Steve said, understanding dawning on him. “You want to use the blood.”
“Exactly,” Barry replied. “We need to access it, mix it with the salt, and perform the binding.”
Christopher gulped. “How do we...get the blood?”
Barry’s grin widened, a gleam of mischief in his eyes. “Don’t worry, kid. I’ve got a way.”
He disappeared behind the counter again and rummaged through piles of old books, jars, and strange trinkets, finally pulling out a small, jagged blade wrapped in a worn leather sheath.
“You’re not going to cut us, are you?” Marie asked, her eyes wide with fear.
“No, no, little girl. This isn’t for you.” Barry held the blade up to the dim light, the metal glinting ominously. “This is for the earth. The soil around your blood red house. We’ll use this to draw the blood from the ground.”
Lucy crossed her arms, skeptical. “And this will work? Do you really think the ground will...frigging bleed?”
“It’s worked before,” Barry said simply. “Trust me.”
The group gathered their supplies— salt, the strange blade, and Lucy’s duffel bag full of weapons. The weight of what they were about to do hung heavy in the air.
As they stepped back outside into the cold, misty night, the town lay quiet around them, but the darkness felt different now, more oppressive. The ghostly figures from before were gone, but the atmosphere still crackled with unnatural energy, as if the night sky was holding its breath, waiting.
“We’ll need to move fast,” Lucy said, glancing at the sky. The red clouds still swirled above, ominous and foreboding. “The wild hunt won’t be far behind.”
They piled into the car once more, speeding down the mist-covered streets towards Cooperton Avenue. The blood red house loomed ahead, a dark silhouette in the fog, its windows black and lifeless.
When they arrived the house, with its peeling red paint and loose shingles, looked like a living thing, watching them approach.
“I hate this place,” Marie whispered, clutching Christopher’s arm.
“You’re not the only one,” Lucy muttered, stepping out of the car. She threw the duffel bag over her shoulder and gestured to the others. “Let’s get this over with.”
They approached the front yard cautiously, the mist swirling around their feet. As they reached the front porch, the ground beneath them seemed to tremble like they were walking on the back of a gargantuan beast.
Barry knelt down by the base of the porch and pulled out the blade. “Alright, this is the spot,” he said, voice low. “We’ll need to cut deep enough to reach the blood. Spread the salt once I’ve made the cuts.”
With a swift motion, Barry plunged the blade into the soil. The earth hissed as the blade sank in, and for a moment, nothing happened. But then, slowly, a dark, viscous liquid began to seep up from the ground.
“Is that…real blood?” Christopher whispered, his face pale.
“Looks like it,” Barry said, satisfied. “Quick, spread the salt.”
Lucy, Steve, and the kids moved fast, scattering the rock salt in wide arcs around the perimeter of the house.
As they worked, the wind picked up, howling through the trees, and the mist thickened. Shadows began to move at the edges of their vision, and faint whispers filled the air.
“They’re coming,” Steve said, his voice tight with fear. “We need to hurry.”
Barry stood up, his hands coated in the blood-soaked soil. “The binding’s almost done. Just a little longer.”
But as the last of the salt was spread, a deep, guttural roar echoed from the street. The raging host had found them.
Ghostly figures emerged from the bushes that enclosed the yard, their hollow eyes locked on the group, and spectral lions stalked forward, their claws scraping the ground.
Lucy gripped her revolver tightly, her heart pounding. “Get inside the house! Now!”
Christopher still had his key from before they’d moved away. He pushed it into the lock with his jittering fingers and threw the door open. They rushed inside, slamming the door shut behind them. The sound of pounding and scraping against the walls and windows echoed through the house.
“What now?” Christopher asked, his voice cracking.
Barry knelt in the center of the room, drawing a circle with the blood-soaked salt. “We hold them off. The binding will take a few minutes to fully settle.”
From above him, on the staircase, came the sound of a shotgun being cocked.
“What the FUCK are you doing in my house?” shouted Jack Murphy, father of Christopher and Marie.
“Daddy!” called Marie. “You still LIVE here?”
Jack pointed the gun downward, “Marie? Christopher? What the hell are you doing here?”
“Dad! What are YOU doing here?” asked Christopher. “There’s no furniture. No lights.”
“Your goddamn mother took everything when she left me for that dago.”
“Sir,” began Lucy, “I’m sorry to intrude, but we aren’t safe here. We didn’t know anyone was-”
“You’re that dyke from down the street ain’t ya?” interrupted Jack, “What are you and this old pedophile doing with my kids?”
“I-we-um” started Lucy, but she couldn’t find the words.
“Buddy,” said Barry, “Sorry for the intrusion. We didn’t realize your abode was inhabited. But right now, we and everyone else are in grave danger.”
“The only one in danger is you ‘buddy’, unless you get away from my fuckin’ kids.” said Jack as he leveled the shotgun at Barry.
The wind howled as the front door shook violently, and the wood began to splinter.
“What the?” gasped Jack from the stairs as the door blew inwards and broke into a million pieces, knocking everyone but him onto the floor.
Alec Chino, stepped calmly into the battered foyer of the house. Barry got up to his knees, his brow furrowing in disbelief.
“How?” Barry muttered, his hands quaking.
Alec smirked. “Your little ‘magic’ trinkets have no effect on us. Who do you think gave them to you?”
Before Barry could respond, chaos erupted. Jack Murphy, ever the fighter, lunged at Alec with a determined roar, swinging his fists in a blind fury. But Alec was too quick. He sidestepped the attack with practiced ease, delivering a sharp blow to Jack’s side that sent him sprawling to the ground.
“You!” said Jack, “You’re the bastard that cut my ear off! I recognize that cheap suit! You took my wife’s baby! You made everything go wrong.”
Stepping over Jack, Alec barely looked down to say, “I told you then as I tell you now, you are the cause of all your own problems.”
Barry, distracted by Jack's fall, barely had time to react as Alec approached Steve, who stood paralyzed with fear. Alec’s eyes gleamed with a dark purpose as he reached toward the boy.
“Stop this!” Barry cried, his voice thick with panic.
“Don’t you see?” Alec said, his voice low and filled with a strange, eerie calm. “This little fetch, this Steve is the key. He always has been.”
Barry glanced at Steve, the boy’s eyes wide and scared, “What do you mean, he’s the key?”
Alec took a deep breath, as though savoring the moment, and placed his hands over either side of Steve’s head.
A gun cocked behind him. “Drop the kid, now” said Lucy.
“Or what?” said Alec, not even acknowledging the pistol barrel against his temple. “Are you going to shoot me? You know that conventional weapons can’t-”
The Raging Host
(note - this episode takes place immediately after episode 015 - The Day After)
November 1982
“Ok, kids,” said Lucy, “It’s time for you to go home!”
“But-” stammered Christopher, “What’s going on? Who’s Alec Chino?”
“Alec Chino is just one name he uses. He’s their leader. The Balatron. He’s the Harlequin...the wild huntsman...the-”
“Hell Kin.” said Marie, “That’s what you called him. He’s the devil.”
“Well,” said Lucy, “I don’t know about THE devil, but yeah, he might as well be. You kids need to get home and Steven and I are leaving now.”
“What happened to your shadow?” asked Christopher.
Lucy looked down at herself.
“Molly. Her name is Molly. And she’s gone. For now at least. Hopefully she’ll come back. She always has before.”
Lucy opened up a closet and pulled out a big duffel bag. Reaching in she gripped two revolvers, checked the chambers on each and handed one to Steve before placing the other back in the bag which she slung over her shoulder.
“WHAT?” exclaimed Marie and Christopher in unison.
“Sorry kids.” Lucy told them, “I didn’t bring enough guns for everyone.”
“Umm...that’s OK.” said Christopher. “I don’t think our mom would want us shooting people anyway.”
“Well,” Lucy told the kids, “I can give you a ride home, at least. It must be close to your dinner time.”
“What time is it?” asked Marie, “It’s so dark out.”
“It’s almost five o’clock-” Lucy started as she opened the front door, stopping speechless upon seeing the world outside.
Dark red clouds filled the sky, blotting out the already setting sun. A cold mist rolled silently down Cooperton Avenue wrapping itself around the houses like greedy fingers. It filled the street.
“What’s happening?” said Marie.
“Umm,” Lucy said, “It’s just a bit foggy out. Let’s get in the car.” As she stepped out onto the walkway through her tree-shrouded yard, the street lights flickered and died, plunging the neighborhood into a darkness broken only by the silvery glow of the mist lit by the rising moon.
The faint sound of unearthly whispers filled the air.
Ghostly figures emerged from the mist - apparitions of children clad in the tattered remnants of halloween costumes and false faces depicting grotesque grins, eyes hollow and wide like bottomless pits.They moved with a jerky, unnatural cadence, their laughter like the clinking of broken glass. Among them prowled spectral, beastly lions. The eyes of the great cats glowed with fire and their maws dripped with the essence of nightmares. They advanced along Cooperton like a ghoulish parade.
Lucy tightened her grip on the duffel bag,"Get behind me, kids. Stay close."
A figure emerged at the forefront of the ghostly procession, towering above the rest. In a suit of red with black diamond pattern and a mask that sported a comically long nose, he stepped forward.
"Lucy Raymond," Alec's voice boomed, "it's time to finish what we started. I have come for the key."
Lucy swallowed hard, feeling the weight of the revolver at her side. She turned to the kids, her voice steady despite the fear gnawing at her. "We just have to get to the car. Together."
Quivering, Marie and Christopher followed Steve and Lucy to the driveway.
The Raging Host moved like a storm, a swirling force of ghostly children and strange beasts ripping through the quiet suburban night. Windows shattered, doors burst open, and the very ground seemed to tremble under their ethereal weight.
The air grew colder as Alec calmly stepped toward Lucy’s yard, his eyes glowing with malevolent delight.
"Stay close and move quickly." said Lucy, brandishing her gun in the direction of the chaos.
The children nodded, and together they made their way down the walkway, their footsteps silent against the howling storm. As they reached the edge of the yard, one of the wraithlike children lunged forward, its face twisted in a ghastly grin. Lucy fired, the gunshot ringing out. The apparition dissipated into the mist, but more took its place, their laughter echoing across the darkened neighborhood.
Alec Chino watched them with an amused smile, his eyes gleaming. "You can't escape, Lucy. The hunt is upon you!”
Ignoring his taunts, Lucy led the children to the car, throwing open the doors and pushing them inside. She took one last look at the advancing host before climbing into the driver's seat, then started the engine and slammed her foot on the gas, speeding away from the house.
The mist followed them, clinging to the car like a spiderweb, but the spectral figures faded into the darkness. Lucy clutched the steering wheel, her eyes scanning the road ahead.
"We can't go home," Christopher said suddenly. "They'll find us there."
“I don’t think they’re after you.” said Lucy.
“What are they after?” cried Marie.
“A long time ago Alec attacked me because he was looking for the key.” Lucy told the kids.
Tires screeched as she swerved the car sharply to avoid a shadowy figure dashing across the road.
“The key?” Christopher asked, his voice shaky. “Key to what?”
Darting down Cooperton, Lucy took a sharp left on 44th street. The mist twisted and pursued them.
“It’s from an old book. The key was an alchemist's attempt at understanding the Voiceless. He created symbols that converted their way of doing things into something humans could...use.”
Lucy reached Westfield Ave. But her path was blocked by a swarm of phantasms.
“Where are you even going?” asked Steve.
“Barry’s.”
“Who the fuck is Barry?” Steve cursed at her.
“LANGUAGE!” she berated.
A shadowy feline predator the size of a bear jumped on the hood of the car. A crowd of spectral children gathered around, encircling them. Among them stood familiar faces from school and the neighborhood all dressed in Halloween costumes.
“Shelly!” shouted Marie at a ghostly child who resembled her friend from school, Michelle Cohen, wearing the princess costume she’d worn the previous Friday at the school Halloween party. Her eyeless face pressed up against the car window.
Marie started to roll her window down, but Christopher grabbed her hand.
“Stop!” she said to her brother as she wriggled out of his grasp. “Shelly’s hurt. She needs help!”
“That’s not Shelly!” said Christopher. “That’s a ghost...or something.”
The car shifted as the great cat climbed on top of it, the weight of the creature causing the roof to sag.
“It’s gonna squish us!” Marie cried, tears running down her face.
The spirit children gathered closer to the vehicle and began pounding on it as more animals descended.
“Step on the gas!” said Steve.
“What?” gasped Lucy. “We’re surrounded.”
“Just do it!”
Lucy did as Steve commanded. The tires spun out for a moment on the road but the car started moving.
“Harder!” Steve shouted.
Lucy gunned it and the car pushed through the cluster of apparitions as if it were driving through gelatin. Progress was slow, but they were moving.
Marie broke entirely free of Christopher’s hand and rolled the window down again, trying to reach out to the specter of Shelly, but it was too late. The car had moved away from her. Another ghost in the crowd peered in through the window. An older boy dressed in a football uniform complete with helmet leaned toward her. He seemed to be trying to grab at her, but both of his arms ended in mutilated stumps, as if his hands had been bitten off.
Before she could register what she saw, a gigantic paw with long, razor sharp claws came batting into the window from above as the ghostly lion on the roof of the car made its strike.
Marie screamed in terror as the car accelerated and careened around the bend on to Westfield Avenue, throwing the incorporeal beast clear off of the vehicle. Once clear of the throng of ghosts they gained speed quickly and were soon a few blocks down the road. The host and the mists faded into the rearview mirror.
“Are we safe now?” asked Christopher.
“I don’t know.” said Lucy.
“Where are we even going?” asked Steve.
“Somewhere safe, I hope.” she replied.
They arrived at a small building tucked away at the end of a narrow alley. A faded sign above the door read “Barry’s Occult Shop.” Lucy parked the car and quickly ushered the kids inside, locking the door behind them before the chime bell had even finished ringing.
Emerging from behind a beaded curtain, the oldest man the kids had ever seen entered the room, with a lean, hunched frame, and a face etched with deep lines and covered with several days of bristly white stubble. The man pierced them with his icy gray eyes. He wore a thread-worn old bathrobe that might once have been royal blue over a tank top and pajama pants. Around his neck hung several amulets and charms covered in esoteric symbols.
“Lucy? What are you doing here at this hour?” he grumbled.
“It’s only a quarter after five!” she responded.
“Is it then?” the man said as he peered out the window. Between ominous red clouds the full moon had already begun to rise in the eastern sky. “I’ll make coffee.”
“Who is this guy?” Marie piped up to Lucy.
“This is Barry. Of Barry’s Occult Shop. Surely you’ve heard of this place.”
“I heard of it.” said Christopher. “My big brother, Johnny, told me about it. He said it’s for devil worshippers. He bought some incest here once.”
“I’m sure he meant incense.” corrected Lucy.
“Yeah. It smelled funny.”
Steve whispered in frustration. “Lucy, we need to get away from here. We already have these two kids with us and now you want us to drag a hundred year old man along?”
“Ninety-one as of last month.” said Barry, “I’m what they call a Virgo-Libra cusp. That means I never miss a detail and I keep it together when the rest of the world is falling to shit. Miss Lucy here brought you to my shop for a reason, and she’s nobody’s fool, so chances are you brats are in a mess and you need the kind of help that only old Barry can getcha.”
“It’s Chino, Barry.” said Lucy. “He’s here and he’s brought the wild hunt. Ghost children. A sky turned red. The whole thing. Like. End days shit.”
“Bah.” said Barry. “That guy’s all hot air. Did I ever tell you about how I got out of my contract with him?”
“We don’t have time for old stories, Barry. We need to put a stop to this. Quick.”
“You need to soak up the blood.”
“What?” asked Steve.
“The blood.” Barry said, “This whole damn town is built on blood. The whole country really, but especially here. Spilt time and time again over the ages. All the way back to the beginning. This land has been haunted since before the Lenape lived here. They called it Pemsithoking (Pem-sit-hau-ken)* - the walker’s land. Sensitive souls from before the coming of white folk and after often have visions of the dead here. Specters of loved ones who met violent ends, remnants of Revolutionary War soldiers, ghosts of children slaughtered by beasts in ages long gone by.”
“I saw that!” said Marie. “My friend, Shelly got eaten by a lion!”
“We all saw it.” said Christopher.
“No! I mean. A long time ago. She visited me in my dreams. When the shower- umm- when I saw a ghost.”
“Wait. The shower curtain people are real, aren’t they?” asked a shocked Christopher.
“The what people?” asked Steve.
“Shower curtain...ghosts that live in the walls of our house. I used to make fun of Marie for seeing them.”
“YOU STILL DO!”
“Well, that was before all...this.” Christopher said, waving his arms around. “So, when you saw the shadow people in the walls...that was...”
“The Voiceless.” said Lucy.
“But why did I see a ghost of Shelly? She’s not dead. I saw her in school TODAY.”
“Time travel.” said Barry, plainly.
“Oh come on now.” scoffed Lucy.
“You and I have both seen stranger things than that.” Barry said. “The Voiceless. Their ways. Their technology for want of a better word. It’s all about manipulating dimensions. Time is a dimension. It’s not much of a stretch to think they can move back and forth along it.”
“So,” Lucy said, “you think the clowns took the children back in time and...fed them to the lions? Like ancient Romans persecuting Christians?”
“Like a sacrifice!” added Steve.
“That’s the very thing!” said Barry. “A massive blood sacrifice on this land. It kicked off millenia of violence and bloodshed.”
“I saw like a hundred kids get into an ice cream truck!” exclaimed Christopher. “No way they could all fit in there. But I saw it! It was just - it was just last night.”
“The bad ice cream,” said Marie. “I tasted it and it made me want to get on the truck. Like my brain was being controlled!”
“So the Balatron lured kids onto the truck with that ice cream,” said Steve. “They somehow used Voiceless methods to...I don’t know...make space inside the truck. Then they took the truck to some time in the past and...”
“Threw the children to the lions,” said Barry. “You kids aren’t the first people to see things like that here. Ghosts and strange creatures simply appearing around town. Back when I was a very young man a demonic beast attacked a trolley car I was riding. Folks said it was the Jersey Devil. I believed so at the time, but now I know better.”
“How do we save them?” asked Marie. “How do we save Shelly?”
“I’m afraid it’s far, far too late for that, little girl. Your friend is long, long gone.”
“But we saw her and all of the other kids in school today!” said Christopher.
“No,” said Steve. “You didn’t see them. Those kids were Fetches. Like me. Changelings. Replacements for the real kids.”
“No!” cried Marie. “Shelly ain’t dead! I saw her TODAY.”
“But you saw her ghost tonight,” said Christopher. This only caused his sister to sob uncontrollably.
“Enough, kids!” commanded Lucy. “We don’t know what happened to Shelly or anyone else for certain. But we do know that the Balatron are out there. They’ve amassed a small army of the dead and they will kill us if we let them. Now we need to figure out how to make sure that doesn’t happen!”
“Well,” said Barry, “Like I said, we need to sop up the blood. Cleanse the land.”
“What are we supposed to do?” snapped Lucy, “Scrub the whole town with salt and seltzer water?”
“Salt, yes. It is an essential ingredient to dealing with unholy things.” he dashed to the back of the shop and popped back again, hefting a fifty pound bag of rock salt.
“Why do you have that?” asked Christopher.
“Winter is on its way, kid. If I slip and break something on an icy driveway, it’s lights out for ol’ Barry.”
“So, what are we supposed to do with that?” Marie asked, her face wet with tears.
“We need to go to the origin point.” said Barry.
“Origin point?” asked Steve. “Origin of what?”
“Everything.” Barry said, “The place where this blood sacrifice was held. The spot where the children were fed to the lions.”
“That doesn’t even make sense!” said Christopher. “There aren’t any lions in Amon Heights!”
“Not now, no. But...” began Steve.
“But nothing!” said Christopher. “The last time there were lions in this part of the world was something like...twelve thousand years ago!”
“Well.” said Lucy, “Then the blood has soaked Amon Heights for a very very long time.”
“Hmmm...” mused Barry, “It’s an old stain. A deep dark stain of blood. So immersed into the soil that it’s impossible to tell where the violence ends and the land begins. Where would we even go to find the source of this blood ritual.”
In unison Lucy, Christopher, and Marie said, “The Blood Red House.”
“The what?” asked Barry.
“Our old house...on Cooperton Avenue.” Christopher explained. “Lucy used to live there too. It’s like a magnet for evil.”
“It’s where the Shower Curtain People live!” shouted Marie, “And I’ve seen ghosts there all the time!”
“So this house.” began Barry, “This house is where it starts? This house could be the...the nexus.”
“The what?” asked Marie.
“The center point!” explained Barry, “If we can cleanse this blood red house, maybe we can stop Alec once and for all. If we break his connection to our world, he won’t have any more power.”
“And what about the Voiceless?” asked Steve.
“What about them?” Barry returned.
“They’re not affiliated with Alec Chino. They aren’t really evil, are they? They’re just...alien. They don’t mean to hurt people.”
“So what?” said Christopher.
“So...if we destroy this...this nexus...if we break this connection to our world what happens to them?” asked Steve, “What happens to me?”
“Oh honey.” said Lucy. “I don’t think anything will happen to you. You aren’t really one of them.”
“But ain’t I?” said Steve, “At least in part?”
“I-I don’t know really.” said Lucy, “But if we don’t stop this raging host from destroying us it won’t matter what becomes of the Voiceless. What becomes of you or of Molly.”
"But that’s not fair” Steve said, “Molly, the Voiceless...me. We didn’t do anything wrong!”
Barry frowned, stroking his grizzled chin. “That’s a dangerous assumption, son. The Voiceless operate on a plane of understanding separate from ours. To them, our suffering might be little more than an experiment or a necessary side effect of their actions.”
Lucy interjected, her gaze distant. "Alec Chino and his unholy host are the threat. The Voiceless...Molly has always been my friend. My protector. But I’ve never truly understood her. Maybe the shadow people are just as bad as this Halloween freak show army."
Barry sighed. "That’s the gist of it, yeah. Alec is the enemy for sure - He’s looking to bring this entire town to its knees."
Christopher’s voice trembled as he spoke, “So what do we do?”
Lucy hefted the bag of salt onto her shoulder, “We go to the red house, and we end this. Once and for all.”
The children stared wide-eyed at the ragtag group of adults they had stumbled into this nightmare with, while outside the shop, the mist began to thicken once more, swirling like a hungry maw ready to devour them all.
"Okay," Lucy said, breaking the tense silence. "So, we take the salt, we go to the house, and we... what? Sprinkle it around? Perform some kind of ritual?"
Barry nodded, a glint in his eye. “Yes, and I have just the thing. We’ll need to spread the salt across the house’s foundation—inside and out. But more than that, we’ll need something to bind the spirits, something to keep them from slipping away.”
“I have an old rosary,” Lucy offered. “From my grandma. Will that help?”
Barry shook his head. “It’s not about religious symbols. We need something personal. Something connected to the land itself.”
“The blood,” Steve said, understanding dawning on him. “You want to use the blood.”
“Exactly,” Barry replied. “We need to access it, mix it with the salt, and perform the binding.”
Christopher gulped. “How do we...get the blood?”
Barry’s grin widened, a gleam of mischief in his eyes. “Don’t worry, kid. I’ve got a way.”
He disappeared behind the counter again and rummaged through piles of old books, jars, and strange trinkets, finally pulling out a small, jagged blade wrapped in a worn leather sheath.
“You’re not going to cut us, are you?” Marie asked, her eyes wide with fear.
“No, no, little girl. This isn’t for you.” Barry held the blade up to the dim light, the metal glinting ominously. “This is for the earth. The soil around your blood red house. We’ll use this to draw the blood from the ground.”
Lucy crossed her arms, skeptical. “And this will work? Do you really think the ground will...frigging bleed?”
“It’s worked before,” Barry said simply. “Trust me.”
The group gathered their supplies— salt, the strange blade, and Lucy’s duffel bag full of weapons. The weight of what they were about to do hung heavy in the air.
As they stepped back outside into the cold, misty night, the town lay quiet around them, but the darkness felt different now, more oppressive. The ghostly figures from before were gone, but the atmosphere still crackled with unnatural energy, as if the night sky was holding its breath, waiting.
“We’ll need to move fast,” Lucy said, glancing at the sky. The red clouds still swirled above, ominous and foreboding. “The wild hunt won’t be far behind.”
They piled into the car once more, speeding down the mist-covered streets towards Cooperton Avenue. The blood red house loomed ahead, a dark silhouette in the fog, its windows black and lifeless.
When they arrived the house, with its peeling red paint and loose shingles, looked like a living thing, watching them approach.
“I hate this place,” Marie whispered, clutching Christopher’s arm.
“You’re not the only one,” Lucy muttered, stepping out of the car. She threw the duffel bag over her shoulder and gestured to the others. “Let’s get this over with.”
They approached the front yard cautiously, the mist swirling around their feet. As they reached the front porch, the ground beneath them seemed to tremble like they were walking on the back of a gargantuan beast.
Barry knelt down by the base of the porch and pulled out the blade. “Alright, this is the spot,” he said, voice low. “We’ll need to cut deep enough to reach the blood. Spread the salt once I’ve made the cuts.”
With a swift motion, Barry plunged the blade into the soil. The earth hissed as the blade sank in, and for a moment, nothing happened. But then, slowly, a dark, viscous liquid began to seep up from the ground.
“Is that…real blood?” Christopher whispered, his face pale.
“Looks like it,” Barry said, satisfied. “Quick, spread the salt.”
Lucy, Steve, and the kids moved fast, scattering the rock salt in wide arcs around the perimeter of the house.
As they worked, the wind picked up, howling through the trees, and the mist thickened. Shadows began to move at the edges of their vision, and faint whispers filled the air.
“They’re coming,” Steve said, his voice tight with fear. “We need to hurry.”
Barry stood up, his hands coated in the blood-soaked soil. “The binding’s almost done. Just a little longer.”
But as the last of the salt was spread, a deep, guttural roar echoed from the street. The raging host had found them.
Ghostly figures emerged from the bushes that enclosed the yard, their hollow eyes locked on the group, and spectral lions stalked forward, their claws scraping the ground.
Lucy gripped her revolver tightly, her heart pounding. “Get inside the house! Now!”
Christopher still had his key from before they’d moved away. He pushed it into the lock with his jittering fingers and threw the door open. They rushed inside, slamming the door shut behind them. The sound of pounding and scraping against the walls and windows echoed through the house.
“What now?” Christopher asked, his voice cracking.
Barry knelt in the center of the room, drawing a circle with the blood-soaked salt. “We hold them off. The binding will take a few minutes to fully settle.”
From above him, on the staircase, came the sound of a shotgun being cocked.
“What the FUCK are you doing in my house?” shouted Jack Murphy, father of Christopher and Marie.
“Daddy!” called Marie. “You still LIVE here?”
Jack pointed the gun downward, “Marie? Christopher? What the hell are you doing here?”
“Dad! What are YOU doing here?” asked Christopher. “There’s no furniture. No lights.”
“Your goddamn mother took everything when she left me for that dago.”
“Sir,” began Lucy, “I’m sorry to intrude, but we aren’t safe here. We didn’t know anyone was-”
“You’re that dyke from down the street ain’t ya?” interrupted Jack, “What are you and this old pedophile doing with my kids?”
“I-we-um” started Lucy, but she couldn’t find the words.
“Buddy,” said Barry, “Sorry for the intrusion. We didn’t realize your abode was inhabited. But right now, we and everyone else are in grave danger.”
“The only one in danger is you ‘buddy’, unless you get away from my fuckin’ kids.” said Jack as he leveled the shotgun at Barry.
The wind howled as the front door shook violently, and the wood began to splinter.
“What the?” gasped Jack from the stairs as the door blew inwards and broke into a million pieces, knocking everyone but him onto the floor.
Alec Chino, stepped calmly into the battered foyer of the house. Barry got up to his knees, his brow furrowing in disbelief.
“How?” Barry muttered, his hands quaking.
Alec smirked. “Your little ‘magic’ trinkets have no effect on us. Who do you think gave them to you?”
Before Barry could respond, chaos erupted. Jack Murphy, ever the fighter, lunged at Alec with a determined roar, swinging his fists in a blind fury. But Alec was too quick. He sidestepped the attack with practiced ease, delivering a sharp blow to Jack’s side that sent him sprawling to the ground.
“You!” said Jack, “You’re the bastard that cut my ear off! I recognize that cheap suit! You took my wife’s baby! You made everything go wrong.”
Stepping over Jack, Alec barely looked down to say, “I told you then as I tell you now, you are the cause of all your own problems.”
Barry, distracted by Jack's fall, barely had time to react as Alec approached Steve, who stood paralyzed with fear. Alec’s eyes gleamed with a dark purpose as he reached toward the boy.
“Stop this!” Barry cried, his voice thick with panic.
“Don’t you see?” Alec said, his voice low and filled with a strange, eerie calm. “This little fetch, this Steve is the key. He always has been.”
Barry glanced at Steve, the boy’s eyes wide and scared, “What do you mean, he’s the key?”
Alec took a deep breath, as though savoring the moment, and placed his hands over either side of Steve’s head.
A gun cocked behind him. “Drop the kid, now” said Lucy.
“Or what?” said Alec, not even acknowledging the pistol barrel against his temple. “Are you going to shoot me? You know that conventional weapons can’t-”
BANG!
She blew the mask off his face. Alec Chino, the hell kin, leader of the wild hunt turned to look at her. His face had been split down the middle by the gunshot, one half solid black, the other soaked red with blood. His eyes big and round and white, the size of golf balls.
Lucy staggered backward as Alec grew larger. His arms and legs elongated, the black and red diamond pattern of his suit, stretching with them. Out of nowhere he produced a weapon, two thin slats of wood connected by a hinge. With it he backhanded her across the jaw. The strange club clacked as it struck her, producing an almost comically exaggerated slapping noise. Lucy dropped to the ground.
Alec turned back to face Steve as Christopher and Marie screamed in fear. Steve stood still as if mesmerized.
Jack Murphy tackled the stretched out harlequin, dragging him to the floor and started punching him in his already bloody face.
Blow after blow from Jack’s meaty fists rained down on Alec, but each strike only caused him to laugh louder and louder.
“Enough!” shouted Alec in a booming voice that seemingly caused a shockwave, scattering everyone else around the room. All except for himself and Steve. The latter remained standing stock still, as if frozen in place by an unseen force.
Returning to normal human proportions, Alec Chino once more put his hands on Steve’s head.
Lucy tried to reach out to the young boy she’d nearly adopted as Steve cried out in pain.
In a flash Steve was split in half, right down the center, his bones, and organs laid visible as each hemisphere of Steve fell to the ground in a gory heap.
Marie vomited on the spot and Christopher broke down in tears, sobbing uncontrollably. Lucy ran to where the boy had been standing a moment ago, but stopped short at the indiscernible pile of viscera and tried to look away.
Standing where Steve had been was a shadow, like Molly, except not like her at all. This shadow was...solid...three dimensional in a way Molly had never been.
“What are you?” whispered Lucy, in awe.
“And now,” Alec said, his voice echoing unnaturally, “the real fun begins.”
*note - this is made up by the author. There is no known Lenape legend involving this name. Amon Heights is a fictionalized version of the real township of Pennsauken, but the accepted origin of the town’s name is the Lenape word “Pindachsenacan” for “tobacco pouch”.
