The Cove

Horror

10-20 minute read

“The Cove”

By Cam Reese

1.

            I did not know what to expect when I arrived at The Cove, but to be honest, the last thing I thought about was my dwelling. For all I cared, I could live in a dirt hole for one with a pillow of rock and a roof of palm if it meant obtaining the lifestyle that I’d dreamt for myself since the day I first enrolled at Indian River State College. What brought me to The Cove was a professional opportunity, which in my field of work was rare to find. Typically, the only work an archaeologist could find was teaching archaeology. As society looks up to the stars in wonder and awe, the mysteries left beneath our feet go unsolved.

            Everything I owned was packed tidily into my white Toyota Prius; my clothes stuffed into boxes, my basketball rolled around, my books lined the floor of my passenger seat, my table was canted and slid between the headrest and my center console, my blow-up mattress was rolled up into a joint, and my living room couch sat atop of my Prius strapped down to the roof by a single rope tied in a sailor’s knot. I went down the long and winding road and passed a sign that read: “The Cove: 2 mi.”

            I packed my entire life into my car and wrote ahead and arranged my affairs with the Cove before I departed. Dr. Thomas Wilson Barnes will be awaiting my arrival early tomorrow morning. He put an ad in the classified section of the paper looking for a research assistant to aid his investigation of the region; and it was a paid gig, too. My resume was picked, and I was informed via letter that I was hired, and I immediately dropped everything and made my journey across the state to the Cove. My sister didn’t like it, but I told her it would be fine and that it was all a means to an end at this point. She said she would have come with me to help unload but she was busy with school. I think if she had seen this place with her own two eyes, she would not have allowed me to stay… but we’ll get to that shortly.

            It was dark and the evening hours were upon the land. The road through town was lonely and desolate, the businesses said “Open”, but all of the lights were off and there was no sign of life for miles. When I read the brochure, there was an odd note that caught my eye which said, “The town comes to life at night.” Then I used the brochure’s handy map of the town to guide myself through. I followed with my finger down the road and took a right turn down at the end which cut into the forest. I stopped before I entered because the forest was dark and the road was a dry, rough dirt path which I did not account for in my hasty move. Indeed, I should have visited first before upending my life all at once, but when opportunity comes along you must seize the initiative.

            I went slowly and carefully down the dirt path into the forest and put on my high-beam lights. Branches hung low and scraped the couch and ran like nails on chalk against the side of my car. The road beneath me was bumpy and I could feel the tires running along tiny stalagmites ready to burst. Up ahead there was a sign which came into being from the darkness which read, “Welcome to The Cove”. The sign was made of wood, and it had little holes in it like Swiss cheese as though something had bitten straight through.

            The houses appeared on both sides of the road carved into the natural forest and sat upon one another with no room to breathe. The houses were small and made of dark, damp wood, and again none of the lights were on. It looked as though all of the homes were constructed from the bark of a waterlogged tree which had sat for years on the ground in the forest. It was an impoverished neighborhood which was vastly dissimilar to the photos in the brochure. I should have left upon first sight, but again the opportunity costs can blind a man.

As I drove down the traverse into the Cove’s community, I did not see a single person. There were old, broken-down cars on the lots which were weather-worn and covered in moss. It’s been years since these automobiles had run, and they were as permanent to the Earth as sarsen boulders. The office building was directly ahead. It looked like all the other homes, but a sign dangled in the breeze above the doorway that read, “Administration”.

            I parked the car and walked up the handicap ramp to the front door and knocked. After a moment of crossing my arms and tapping my feet impatiently, I looked around and found an envelope tucked between the crevice of the door. I grabbed it and discovered that it was addressed to me. I tore it apart and out fell a single brass key along with a letter.

            The letter read:

            “Dear Tenet,

            We at the Cove are disappointed that we could not welcome you to our community in person. We hope your travels were pleasant and safe and that you had no trouble in finding us. It is unfortunate that our paths could not cross today because we were very much looking forward to meeting you, but a small matter of business has taken us away from the office for the day. We hope you’ll forgive us for this small inconvenience and understand that we are very busy this time of year. Enclosed is the key to your new apartment which is located on the last lot residing nearest the river. If you have any questions, we will be back in the office tomorrow morning, feel free to stop by and introduce yourself. We look forward to meeting you.

            Thank you for making us your new home,

            Sincerely,

-The Cove”

I stuffed the letter into my pocket—I still have it here with me now—and then I went over to the window and peered inside. I could hardly see anything through the blinds and even so the room was dark. I wanted somebody to be inside, anyone, but there was nothing. I didn’t expect the welcome wagon, but it all felt strange being there on the stoop of the admin office, alone. I looked around yearning to see a face, but the backwoods neighborhood was devoid of people. Come to think of it, I never even heard the sounds of birds chirping, it was as quiet as an empty hallway.

I got back into my car and drove past the office down the muddy path towards the end of the road where my lot waited. I saw the cluster of wooden townhomes standing shoulder-to-shoulder by the backdrop of a dense forest which shielded the entirety of the Cove.

            I parked beside a truck whose bed was filled with leaves of varying degrees of autumn, some seemed old enough to be carried over from last season. I walked past it and onto the sidewalk passing by the derelict buildings lettered A, then B, then C, then D, and then finally there was mine, E. Mine was the penultimate house on this lot, the last on the end was lettered F. The homes were raised a few feet above the ground on a wooden platform and a wooden fence concealed underneath. I remember noticing the little holes in the cheap wood like tiny bug bites.

            The door creaked on its rusted hinges when I opened it, and for the first time I saw my new dwelling. The floors were wooden, dark stained and appeared wet. The walls were paneled and peeling in some areas, and the appliances were forlorn relics unready for use, and the ceiling breathed with each gust of wind—it did not look sturdy enough to bucket a hard rain or stand a stiff breeze. In short, it was a dilapidated nightmare more suited for things to crawl out of the woodwork than a place for a human being to call home.

            Be that as it may, I was stuck for now and sighed away my frustrations. I was here and there was no turning back now. I reminded myself of the professional opportunity and that helped me stomach all the ancillary problems. It was only temporary, I said, tomorrow I can find a different place to stay.

            I unloaded all my little belongings first and then I untied the rope and pushed my couch down and my Prius’ roof reverberated like a spring once the pressure was relieved. Good as new. The Prius was a small and bendy car, a basketball for Autobots.

            I dragged the couch up into my new dwelling and then went to blow up my inflatable bed, but once I plugged in the cord, I found that there was no power. I’m sure, as per our arrangement in writing, that basic power and lighting would be provided. One more nuisance to deal with…

I walked back outside to my car to grab my tire pump when I heard the sound of a glass bottle sliding across cement. It came from a distance but when I looked around, there was nothing. No one in sight. No one around. The sound was unmistakable and it unnerved me. Suddenly, I looked around in all directions weary of my being watched from afar—maybe stalked. But I was just being paranoid. Perhaps I even made this up in my head to comfort myself. The mind can play tricks on you with the motivation of protecting oneself from the hollow loneliness of despair.

I didn’t have the tire pump with me so I would have to settle for the couch on my first night in my new dwelling. I went back inside and checked inside the refrigerator. I opened the fridge to the sight of warm darkness and the smell of musty air that lingered for years like a sulfuric air bubble trapped at the bottom of the Titanic. Roaches made their homes here and scattered when they saw me recoil in horror. I slammed the door shut and forgot I had ever seen it. Tomorrow you’re leaving. Tomorrow you’re going. But tonight, you’ll have to stay…

Then I walked over to the sink and tried the faucet, but got nothing except a squeaky knob. The water wasn’t running… didn’t I pay for that? I thought, Well, beggars can’t be choosers. I’ll have a word with the administration tomorrow. Then the sun must have fallen below the horizon because in an instance, it was dark and none of the lights worked. Luckily, I had packed a number of candles and lit one that faintly glimmered and lighted enough of the room for me to see.  

I made up the couch and laid down in the middle of my small, empty home lighted by a long, skinny candle with a flamed tip that sat on the wooden floor. I pulled the covers up to my chest and shut my eyes to escape the reality of my new life. I had never felt so poor, but these were the rites of passage. You take your lumps now and it will all pay off in the end. One day when you’re older, I thought, I’ll look back at this moment and laugh at how poor I was when I began. One day, I’ll forget what it was ever like to live in such a grimy dwelling. One day…

I opened my eyes and looked up at the ceiling and saw a bug crawling around above me. It was a large black cockroach whose antennas twitched, and little legs beat rapidly as it moved. It stopped moving when it saw me staring at it and for a moment there was unmistakable eye contact between myself and the bug. Then he scampered into a little hole in the crevice of my wooden ceiling and disappeared.

Now I couldn’t sleep. I had been on the dozing verge, but after seeing my little black roommate I was left unnerved. Soon… you’ll be out of here soon, I thought. I took several deep breaths.

            “Hello?”

            I heard a voice coming from the wall. It was faint, but unmistakable and, besides the wind, it was the first tangible sound I had heard since my arrival. I threw the covers off of me and jumped up and ran over to the wall as fast as I could.  I leaned against the wall where I cupped my hand and pressed my ear closely. “Yes? Hello?” I said.

            “Can you hear me?” the voice said.

            “Yes. Yes, I can. Hello? Who are you?” I said excitedly.

            “Oh, hi… I think I’m your new neighbor.”

            “Oh, cool, what a relief. I thought I was all alone here. Do you live next door?”

“Well, kind of I do… kind of.”

“What do you mean?”

“I live between E and F.”

            “Huh… Between? Between E and F?”

            “Yes.”

“You mean in the walls?”

            “Exactly.”

            This was strange, but I went along with it. “Well, I… I imagine that must be cramp.”

            “It’s not that bad, really. I sleep as snug as a bug.”

            “Really? So, this place isn’t abandoned?”

            “Abandoned? Heavens no. We’re all here. Sometimes it’s so teeming with life that we hardly have any room to breathe at all.”

            “Wow, that’s not been my first impression. This place seems to be a ghost town.”

“Oh no… Hold on. Yes?... I have to go now. I really shouldn’t even be talking to you.” He started whispering.

“Why not?” I asked softer.

“Because we’re not supposed to.” He whispered really low and I could barely hear him, “We keep to ourselves in the shadows. We’re not allowed to be seen or else people would be frightened.”

“It’s okay, you can show me. I won’t be frightened, I promise. There’s no need to feel ashamed.”

“I’m sorry but I have to go now.”

“Wait, what’s your name?”

I heard the walls creak and then he was gone, silence once more. Then I remembered The town comes alive at night. I went to my window, and I peeked out through the crack of the blinds and saw the lights in the other cabins were on. I even caught glimpses of shadows moving and bobbing against the white of their shades. I was not alone as I had presumed, and I felt relieved enough to sleep again. Hell, I even smiled for the first time. Then I curled up on the couch and pulled the covers over myself like a cocoon and fell asleep by candlelight.

2.

In the morning, I awoke to the sight of a dozen little critters crawling on the damp ceiling. What the fu--… My heart nearly exploded in my chest. It was worse when I looked down on the ground and saw dozens more crawling by my feet! None of them dared to crawl on the couch and when I broke out into a panicked frenzy and stood on the couch on my tippy-toes, they all dispersed and ran back down the holes from which they came. They were bigger than any roaches I had ever seen before; some of them were like crawling bars of black soap, or crawling alarm clocks, or curled up fists! Big! Big! Big! I can’t stress enough how big they were.

I grabbed my shoes and some clothes, and I ran outside with my legs spinning like Scooby-Doo. Fu--!! That mess.

I ran to my car, jumped inside, and caught my breath. The sun was beginning to rise over the trees, and I checked my watch, 7:23, thank goodness gracious. The office would open soon, and I would be able to speak with the landlord about the pest problem. I changed into my business casual dresswear which was appropriate enough for my first day on the job having not showered or combed my hair. I turned on the radio in my car and all I received was static. I turned the dial up and down aimlessly searching for a frequency and heard nothing but fuzzy air. Then I gave up and decided to wait at the Admin office until they opened.

When I drove up to the office and got out, I noticed there was another white envelope slid between the crack of the door. I ran up and grabbed it and saw it was again addressed to me. Another letter? I ripped it open and read it:

“Dear Tenet,

We regret to inform you that we will be out of the office today due to an ongoing entanglement. We at the Cove are sorry for the inconvenience and hope to make it up to you in the future. Please do not think that we are avoiding you, we’re busier than a bug in heat. If you need to reach us, the earliest we’ll be available is tomorrow. In the meantime, if you need to reach us today, we will be completely unavailable. Sorry.

Thank you for your understanding,

Sincerely,

-The Cove”

I looked inside the window and saw the same darkness through the blinds which I had the day prior. These people were ridiculous. Two whole days and no people. I looked around at the lots and none of the cars had moved and there were no people to be found. I stood alone in the breeze of the Cove like the last man on Earth. Where is everyone? What’s going on here? But those thoughts were fleeting and met with a shrug. I hopped back into my car and drove off because I didn’t have all day to sit and ponder or participate in a hoax or a game of hide and seek, I wanted to be early for my first day on the job.

Punctuality is important for climbing the ladder of success. The Professor will not be kept waiting while I’m under his employ; if you want to get ahead in life you need to work hard and be as reliable as the boss because every king needs an heir.

I drove out through the bumpy, jagged road through the cavernous forest and onto the main drag of road called “town.” It was as deserted as it had been yesterday. The sun was beating bright upon the pine of the roofs of empty, ghost-town businesses that said open but housed nothing but cobwebs. I looked inside as I drove past window-shopping for human life and one after another there was nothing. I was alone. As alone as I had ever been or ever would be.

I drove through the desolate road and found the building at the end of the line that sat alone upon a hill which overlooked the river. The building sat alone in the forest a click outside of the bustling epicenter. There was a gate which was covered in chains spun around the iron-links and barred by a padlock for which I was never given a key. I drove up to the fence and saw a white envelope… and it was addressed to me.

I got out and grabbed the envelope with my name written on it and I opened it up, it read:

“Good morning,  

I would like to begin by first thanking you for making the long and arduous trip across the state to be here. I have spent many months alone researching the crustaceans found at the Cove, as we have hitherto discussed in our written correspondences, and I am excited to bring a youthful mind aboard to aid in our extraordinary discoveries. Unfortunately, I will be out of the office today as I had to leave for an unscheduled, impromptu meeting which if I had been informed of prior, would have written to you in advance delaying our start. These great discoveries shall have to wait just one more day. I’d like to offer my apologies and I hope you understand. Please be here as on time as you were today, tomorrow.

Sorry for the inconvenience,

  Sincerely,

-Professor Thomas Wilson-Barnes”

I sighed and looked up at the ominous cast-iron gate which had pointed tips like spears shaped in a fleur-de-lis. Looming in the distance up the winding path was the dark, dour, wooden manor which sat at the top of the hill seeming to look down in disapproval.

At this point, I was incensed and irritated and got the feeling that I was being given the run-around. Where was everyone? Was everyone busy? No, no, they couldn’t be. If these notes had been handwritten then my suspicious thoughts would not have risen to the surface of my mind, for I was starting to suspect that behind these notes there was but one author.

An impish grin overcame my face and if you were there you could have guessed my very next move. I began to climb over the mighty fence. I leapt up and pulled myself over the ledge and tilted to the other side and slowly dragged both legs over preparing my long fall down. It’s been years since I’ve hopped a fence and suddenly, I thought, they don’t make fences like they used to…

On the way down, I landed askew on my right foot, and I could feel the every bit of upcoming thirty which comes with early onset old age. No longer was I a spry little boy. And when I walked away, it was with a newfound limp.

I limped up the hill to the manor where I saw a car parked in the lot outside of the garage. The car was in good condition unlike the others I had seen in town and in the Cove and it was evidently still operable. I walked up to the elongated door that stood taller than Yao and gave it a knock. When nobody answered, I gave it a push and a pull, but it would not budge. I went around back where I found a side door but that was locked, too. I kept walking around until I found a window and I gave it a nudge. It opened when I pushed it up and I smiled. He shoots and he scores. I crawled up inside the house and ended up in a dark kitchen.

The natural sunlight shone down from the skylight. Dust particles lingered in the beams of light like an old library, and all around the home there were scattered papers. On the shelves there were loose leaf pages full of incoherent and illegible scribblings. The wooden counters and cabinets were chinked with tiny holes and sawdust left in the wake.

“Hello?” my voice echoed through the spacious home which had little furniture and high ceilings like a cave.

I entered the study where I presume most of my potential work would have taken place. Again, there were papers spread throughout, lying on the ground, lying on the windowsill, lying atop the table, and lying just about anywhere he could put it. It was in this room that I found the bugs.

There was a large mason jar full of cockroaches that were still and appeared dead. They were as big as the ones in my dwelling, some bigger. Then next to the jar was a scribbled note which read:

“The size is immaculate. They feast upon anything tangible. They grow and grow and grow and won’t stop. If I don’t kill them, they’ll eat everything.”

There was a tray laid on the table where the innards and little sections of a large bug were splayed in a meticulous assortment. The professor had dissected the bug’s all six legs, which were the size of lottery pencils, and he evenly divided and spread them out ornately. Then there was the thorax which was symmetrically placed next to the severed abdomen, and then the antennas, and then finally the head. Beside the severed body was another note which read:

“The bugs grew quietly in the darkness for thousands of years. Evolving in the shadows underneath our feet. They have observed our behaviors and have become self-aware.”  

The professor’s notes were written with the penmanship of an M.D. The room was full of bugs under his microscopes, in petri dishes, and in closed glass habitats. The blinds were shut and had collected a thick coat of dust which meant he never opened them. I ran my finger across like a plow and collected a nice spoonful.

There was a glass jar with the lid sealed tight where thousands of eggs were packed tightly within. Beside the jar, there was another note with a relevant date. He marked all his observations regardless of how tedious or needless the information seemed. This one said:

“They reproduced despite genders. I placed two males into the same jar and a week later the jar was full of thousands of larvae. The submissive bug changed its gender to female for the sake of procreation. The bugs were adept in survival.”

There was a large, fossilized bug which was bigger than Shaq’s foot (Stomping on it would only make it angry, and you won’t like it when it’s angry). It was hardened and encrusted in sediment for, as far as I could gather off-hand, approximately one thousand years. Its shell was as hard as stone and as silver as aged steel. It was shaped like a pillow until I turned it over and saw the ugly little legs and tentacles of the thing which were hardened and frozen in time. Its mouth had hooks and his eyes were large and ovular.

His name was Boudica, queen of bugs. The name was given to it by the professor. There was another note that caught my attention, it read:

“This was the biggest pod I had found within the soil of the Cove. I know there are more, perhaps even some bigger, but I have yet to find them. I continue to excavate the region by the sea, the bubble underground, and I will find their sanctuary. His name is Boudica, queen of the bugs, she lived for thousands of years in his empire under the Earth. Now she has returned to the light.”

            It sounded as though the professor was lonely and could use some company since he’s now given these androgynous bugs names.

I opened the blinds and let some light into the room and then I spent the entire day examining his notes and organizing them. A few of the stranger ones I have saved with me now, I’ll share them at the end. I spent the day filing and arranging things by dates and categories; lots of clerical work. The day went by fast and before I knew it, the sun’s tempered orange glow dimmed the room, and it was time to go.

I took some notes and a sample with me back home. As I drove back through town, there were still no people about, or at least none that would let themselves be seen. I felt a strange sense of urgency to get home before the sun went down. Something inside of me knew it might be unwise to be out when the night settles in. I sped down the bumpy dirt road as the sun fell below the horizon completely and the stir of orange turned briefly purple and then suddenly it was night. Cool, dark, and quiet.

I got out of my car, ran down the sidewalk past the other houses and ran up to mine and jangled with the keys clumsily trying to get inside. Then I stopped and looked around and saw all the front porch lights turning on one after another. It didn’t stop until every house was lit, except for my own.

3.

            “Hello?” the voice returned.

            As soon as I heard the familiar voice I leapt from my couch and ran over the wall. I was inside reading a book by candlelight as I wielded a spatula for self-defense.

            “Hey, how’s it going?” I asked.

            “Oh, you’re still here?” the voice grumbled.

            “Yes, of course, I live here now. This is my home now.”

            “Most people leave shortly after they arrive.”

            “Why is that?” I asked him with a curious voice as if I couldn’t guess.

            “It’s not a place for people like you. I mean just look at you. You don’t fit in here.”

            How did he know what I looked like? I haven’t seen him once and I’ve hardly been around long enough to catch a passing glimpse. His voice sounded scratchy and hoarse.

            “Are you lonely?” he asked.

            “Lonely? Yes, I am. I haven’t seen a face in days. It’s been so weird since I’ve arrived here.”

            “Would you care to have supper with me tonight?”

            “Sure, of course. I’m starving. I’ve had nothing but crackers all day.”

            “Crackers are no good. You’ll need a richer source of protein if you want to remain walking on two legs. I have plenty of food and I am more than willing to share with my neighbor.”

            “Well, gee, thanks. I’ll get ready now and be over in a minute or two, okay?”

            “Sure, I’m ready when you are.”

            “Great, I can’t wait to see you.”

            “Well, there is only one snafu.”

            “Oh? What’s that?”

            “I can’t let you see me.”

            …

            “Why not? Bad hair day? Ha-ha…”

            “Because you’ll be scared. I’m horribly disfigured and I don’t want to make you feel unnerved. I make everyone who sees me dishonest with their politeness. I’ll even go so far as to say that if you ever saw me for who I truly am, you would not want to live here anymore.”

            “Alright, that’s fine with me. If you do not wish to be seen, then so be it.”

            “You’ll be comfortable eating in the dark. I always eat in the dark by myself.”

            “…Okay.”

            I gathered my thoughts… should I go over there? No, run away. Get in your car and leave now. You can pretend that none of this ever happened. But it did. This is your new home now. You’ve made this bed yourself and now you must lie in it. I felt conflicted. Leave now and never return! I had a suspicious feeling about him that I could not shake. I thought he was a pest. It couldn’t be, could it? No, you’re being delusional, I thought. Go and have a meal in the darkness with your neighbor, what’s so strange about that? But what if he was?  

            I had to see this through until the end. I gathered my candlestick, a box of matches, and placed my flyswatter in my pocket, and then I left the comfort of my wooden dwelling. When I stepped outside, I could see the shadows of people standing by the light of their shades and I could see them living normal lives. They walked to and fro and sat by the window, and I could hear them faintly as a sort of background chatter like crickets in the night. They lived normally just like you and me.

            I walked over to the next-door neighbor’s house at the end of the lot. The door was lettered “F” and inside the lights were off with no signs of occupancy. I knocked on the door and then it slowly creaked open. Through the crack he spoke, but I could not see his face through the elusive shadows, but I heard him, and he said:

            “Blow out the candle before you come inside.”

            “Sure, your house, your rules.”

            I blew out the candle, and then the door opened slightly more, just enough for me to squeeze inside. I walked inside the smothering darkness and, as soon as I was in, I heard his voice leading me forward, “Just this way now,” and then behind me, the door shut.

            “Watch your head,” he told me.

            “I can’t see a thing.”

            “You may sit down where you are now.”

            “Do you have a chair?” I asked.

            “A chair?”

            “Yes, so I can sit down.”

            “Oh… I do not have a chair. I’m sorry for the inconvenience.”

            I was completely immersed in darkness. I bent down and felt around the ground where my palms met the cool wooden floorboard which felt like my own. I sat with my legs crossed and my heart pounding in the blackness. There were little eerie noises creeping all around getting closer and closer. I placed my hand upon my matches in my pocket and readied a strike.

            “So, what’s your name?” I asked.

            “Well, that depends.”

            “Depends on what?”

            He said, “It depends on the day. I go by many names.”

            I felt something crawl over my foot and I shivered, “What was that?”

            “Must have been a bug. There are so many bugs here.”

            “Yeah? Tell me about it. Do they have a pest control guy?”

            He sighed, “They did… but he stopped coming long ago.”

            I was discomfortable and felt beads of sweat forming on my forehead. I could hear the little legs stepping across the wooden floor in the darkness. I could imagine them on the walls and the ceiling and the floor all around me. Then I began to feel a couple nibbling at me softly. One crawled up my back and I shook it off. Then I felt one more run across my leg and I kicked it off.

            “Don’t be frightened,” he said.

            “No, no, I’m not. I’m—I’m okay.”

            I felt some more bugs and I knew they were all around me. I heard the click-click-clicking of their little feet swarming everywhere. I swept them away with my hand but more took their place. I swatted them off my feet and then they returned like the tide. Millions of them. There must have been millions of them. Then they got bigger and bigger. I could feel their hard shells and pointed legs.

            “So… what’s for dinner?” I asked.

            “You.”

Then, I lit a match in the darkness and for a fleeting moment I saw his whiskers and his antennas before he retracted further into the darkness shielding his hardened face. I got up and ran out of the dwelling as fast as I could, and I could feel the crunching beneath my feet as an ocean of bugs ascended from the ground. I stumbled in the darkness and fell onto the door, gathered myself, stood up and flung the door open wide. I ran out of the house and when I looked back, the moonlight cast down upon the entrance where thousands of cockroaches came flooding out toward me.

            I hastily limped to my car and abandoned all possessions in my dwelling. Leave now and never return. I grabbed my key fob and unlocked my car. The town comes alive at night. As I ran, I looked at all the other homes and saw them looking at me from their blinds. The entire neighborhood was watching me. I never saw their faces, but they were shaped in the likeness of man.

            I started up my car, peeled out of the lot, and sped off as fast as my Prius would go. My heart was pounding through my chest and then I felt a straggler crawling on my shoulder and I grabbed the mouse-sized cockroach and flung him out of my window. When I looked back, I caught a glimpse of the largest bug, the Queen bug, who loomed hegemonically over the collapsing waves of bugs who together formed a tide which swept across the Cove. The Queen stood taller than Wilt and gave chase after my car.

            I drove past the Admin building and through the tunnel of trees, over the bumpy dirt path which led out to town. When I emerged through the forest, I saw the town was alive. They were thriving in the businesses and lived amongst themselves in unity. I zoomed through town and one of them landed on my windshield whereupon I calmly activated my wipers as though it was casual mosquito.

            I left the town in my dust and never looked back. I have with me the documents gathered from Professor Thomas Wilson Barnes and I have a highlighted portion which I have reserved for the finality of my story. It read:

            “I have found their dwelling deep beneath the Cove and I intend to return tomorrow. The bugs beneath the Earth have laid dormant for thousands of years in the dark. But I fear that I have awakened something which I should have never brought to light. By bringing this thing to light, I fear I may have endangered the world by introducing a thing which heretofore would never have escaped without my needless, vanity-laden curiosity. God cursed these wretched bugs which lie beneath the Cove.”