Page 68 of Phobia

Larkin’s eyes widened, but he wasn’t looking at me anymore. He was looking past me with an expression I’d never seen on his face—one of real fear.

Holding my breath, I turned slowly, trying to prepare for the worst.

The horror my brain conjured wasn’t even close to reality.

A ghost had emerged from the middle of the cornfield behind us, its long white sheet caressing each stalk it passed with a whispering scrape. Its black eyeholes were fixated on us like a missile and each step brought us closer together.

Except ghosts didn’t wear sheets.

And ghosts didn’t carry guns.

I backed up slowly to Larkin, the warmth of his body only a mild comfort with a gun pointed right at us. “Lark?”

“It’s going to be ok,” he whispered, his hand resting on my hip, subtly pulling me closer to him.

“Fucking faggots,” the ghost snarled. The man beneath ripped the sheet off and threw it to the ground in disgust. “I didn’t think you limp dicks were ever going to show.”

It was Tim, one of the guys from Larkin’s frat. Fury and confusion warred inside of me. Was this all a fucking prank? Some sort of reverse hazing? Part of me hoped so, but with the hostility on Tim’s face, I had a feeling this was something else entirely.

“You’re fucking disgusting,” Tim continued, his glare drifting from me to Larkin. “I willneverunderstand why Alan wanted you back so goddamn bad.”

I shot a quick glance at Larkin, looking for some clue as to what this was all about. And who the hell was Alan?!

“What’s your name?” Larkin asked. The fear from earlier had dissipated, replaced with a relative calm despite our situation.

“You don’t even remember my fucking name?! I’ve been living with you since August, you self-centered asshole!” Tim screeched.

Larkin shook his head. “Your name’s not Tim. Not really. He called me Ethan when I was with him. But that’s not my name. So what’s your real name? What did your parents call you?”

“You killed my fucking parent,” Tim said, teeth bared, driving the gun toward Larkin before he drew up short, just out of reach. It didn’t escape my attention that his finger was already on the trigger. “Alan was all I had and he didn’t fucking want me because of you! But it doesn’t matter now. I’m here to finish what he started.Me. Not you!”

Suddenly, everything clicked into place. Larkin’s dad must have abducted Tim after he abandoned Larkin in New Mexico and now this kid had a sick attachment to a fucking monster. So much so that he was willing to kill two innocent people to avenge him.

“He’s the reason,” I said to Larkin. “Tim is whyhe’sstill here.”

“Great,” Larkin sighed. “Now what are we supposed to do?”

“Shut the fuck up! That’s what you can do!” Tim shouted. I vaguely wondered if any of the neighbors would hear him, but I doubted it. All of the trick-or-treaters had gone home. Most everyone in Sunderland was probably asleep by now.

“What do you want from us? Huh?” Larkin shot back, dropping the empathetic approach. He took a step forward, practically blocking me with his frame, while he spread his arms impatiently. “Alan is gone. Ok? He’s dead and he’s never coming back for you. So you can spend the rest of your life crying over it or you can go find your real family and leave me the fuck alone!”

Tim laughed bitterly. “You know, he had this plan. He couldn’t wait until I was old enough to get into Tennebrose, so I could get close to you. Be your friend. Convince you to give him another chance. He wanted you to be the one to carry on what he started, pick up where you two left off in New Mexico. But then your fucking grandmother died and he couldn’t wait anymore.

“He thought she was the only thing that would stop you, even though I told him all about Jamie here. How fucking devoted you were. Like a lovesick puppy. You might have played it off as friendship, but I knew better. I can spot faggots like you from a mile away, which is why I couldn’t believe Alan would even want you back. You turned out to beeverythinghe hated. Everything he tried to wipe out of this world.”

Larkin scoffed. “Trust me. He only wanted me because I got away. He didn’t love me and he sure as fuck didn’t love you. The only thing he cared about was inflicting as much pain as possible on people. So what did he do to you? Were you bait, too? Did you help him kidnap those other kids? It’s better them than you, right? As long as you help him, you’re safe. At least from being killed.

“What did he do when he caught you crying? I know you cried. Did he call you a littlefag? A fucking fairy princess? Or how about when you tried to run away? Bet you only tried once. He broke my leg the first time I did it. Hit me so hard with a metal pipe that he broke my femur. Then he threw me into a crawl space with a dead body as punishment. I don’t know about you, but I preferred the crawl space to sleeping in his bed.”

Tim and I winced at the same time. I reached out slowly, curling my fingers around Larkin’s and squeezing, as much to comfort him as it was to comfort myself. I didn’t want to hear anymore. I didn’t want to picture what that despicable fiend had done to my best friend—or anyone.

But now that he was getting under Tim’s skin, Larkin wasn’t stopping and he wasn’t pulling any more punches. “I know he touched you. When the cops were too close and he had to lay low, he had to get off somehow between the kills. Did he make you touch him, too? Tell you how fucking filthy you were the whole time? What afagyou were? How you were lucky he came along when he did, because no one else would ever love you? You’re too disgusting to love. Too fucking broken. A broken little toy made forhisamusement, to play with whenever he wants.”

“Shut the fuck up!” Tim said through his teeth, adjusting his grip on the pistol.

“You were with him for a long time, weren’t you? Yeah. Just look at you.” Larkin snorted in disgust and took a step forward, his shoulders pushed back and the gun right in front of him. “A mini fucking Alan in the making. Did he make you touch the other boys too? Or just watch while he did it?Do you still see them? Hear their screams? Did he teach you to kill? How to draw it out as long as you can? I’m guessing not, otherwise you wouldn’t be standing over there hiding behind a gun like a fucking pussy. You’d be over here with your hands wrapped around my throat, showing me what amanyou are. What are you afraid of? Hmm? A couple offagslike us couldn’t possibly fight off amanlike you. So come on! Show us what he taught you! Show us howmanlyyou are!”

A silver light appeared behind Tim. Alan, the monster of our childhood, came into view, sneering at us from his protege’s side.