Chapter Text
“Again, thank you so much for agreeing to this last minute,” Lucy breathes out, tugging on her coat in haste at her husband’s ushering. You watch her struggle to get her other arm through its rightful sleeve for a second before you snatch the other end which keeps escaping her grasp. The display earns a chuckle from Samuel who snaps around to tap in his shoes when his wife tosses a glare his way. You can’t help but smile a little. “You’re a lifesaver; I don’t know what we’d do without you."
You offer a modest shrug in response to her praise. “It’s no problem at all, you know I adore Zach.”
She beams, despite having heard your declaration a handful of times in the past. “Have I ever told you how great of a mother you’d make?”
“Lucy,” Samuel stresses, although amused at your knee-jerk reaction.
You can only manage an embarrassed laugh, waving her words away. Thankfully, Samuel reminds his wife they don’t have all the time in the world to get to their three day getaway.
Lucy finally gives in, mumbling about men having no patience, a remark you choose to ignore while Samuel gives an indignant "Hey!"
“Alright, as usual, you have both of our numbers for emergencies; the kitchen is free reign, so you're welcome to make whatever you find in the pantry and fridge; and since it’s a Friday night, Zach can stay up until 10 p.m.”
You salute playfully, bidding the couple a good night afterward. “Understood. Have fun on your vacation,” you call out to them. You wait until the taillights disappear far into the road before locking up the front door, glad to close off the mid-winter air.
As soon as you swivel around, you find Zach standing in the entrance hall, waiting for his parents to take their leave to make an appearance. Staring up at you, he bears a wide, knowing smile. From where he stands, you can see him jittering with excitement. In return, you raise an eyebrow and crook a smile in challenge, already anticipating what’s to happen. In record time, the eight year-old ball of energy shoots off into the depths of the house. You follow him, mocking the roar of an animal eager to rain tickles on his belly.
You allow the boy his fair share of running before you swoop down to seize him into your awaiting arms. The momentum sends the two of you flying straight into the living room couch, thankfully. No need for accidents this early on. Upon immediate landing, your hands begin their merciless attack on his sides and belly, prompting Zach to violently squirm and howl.
“What do you say?” you taunt, getting him just under his ribs and pulling an ear splitting screech from his little lungs.
“Please!” he begs, pushing at your hands which are much stronger than his.
You instantly stop your torture at his cry, unable to help the infectious mirth spilling from your own mouth. “Okay, I’ll stop, but only because you asked nicely.”
“Thank you,” he giggles.
“Alright, time for dinner.”
“But I’m not hungry yet.” He pulls the puppy eyes, folding his arms and jutting his bottom lip out in hopes of convincing you with his childish charms, which would be hard to argue against if you were anybody else. That kid can be a clever little thing when he wants to be. Fortunately, you’ve been caring for him since the cradle, so you’ve built up quite the resistance.
“Eat first, play later,” you reaffirm, leaving no room for argument.
While you handle the dangerous parts, you task him with stirring and plating the food. You place used dishes in the sink to wash later when you notice Zach filling a third plate. Curious, you opt to observe the boy build a mountain of pasta, emptying half of the extra in the skillet.
“Zach, there’s only two of us eating.” You come up beside him but don’t stop him from his mission.
“No,” he begins, finally setting the serving spoon away and admiring the piled plate, “my friend is eating with us, too.” He beams at you, but confusion knits your brows together at his statement.
“Did you invite someone from school?” If that was the case, Lucy would have told you.
Zach shakes his head, blonde strands swaying. “He lives with me.”
Ah, an imaginary friend, you conclude. Although, you think it’s odd for a boy his age to still have an invisible pal. “Oh, I see. What’s his name?” you humor, grabbing the plates to set on the table, reluctantly letting him take the third one.
“Xavier.”
With impressive reflexes, you catch the other end of the platter when the contents begin slipping forth, tilting it up properly and taking it from Zach to place it across the others. “What’s Xavier look like?” you ask.
“He’s black, super tall, has long arms and legs, eyes that light up in the dark, and he has sharp teeth.” He sounds so exuberant you almost dismiss the rather monstrous description.
You’re no expert, but this Xavier sounds nothing like the silly, made-up creature of a child, he sounds like a nightmare. But then again, every child’s imagination does differ, so you decide not to think too much of it.
“Hm, he sounds scary,” you say, pouring water for you both.
“Nope, Xavier is really nice. He protects me when I sleep.”
You smile, brushing away a tuft of hair from his eyebrows. “He does sound nice. Okay, let’s eat.”
“Can we play hide-and-seek after?”
“‘Course, but you gotta finish all your food first, buddy.”
Once finished, you take your dishes, ready to wash up. You reach for the third, untouched plate, but Zach protests.
“No, wait!” He snags onto your arm. “Please leave it out for Xavier. He’s really shy, so that’s why he didn’t come eat with us.”
You purse your lips for a moment, contemplating whether to continue playing along or not. You wouldn’t dare disappoint him so leave the plate as it is. “Help me clean up and I’ll leave it out for him. How’s that sound?”
Zach’s already in the kitchen, calling for you to hurry up. You laugh at his antics, relieving his worries by making way to him. Some time during the chore, a breeze rolls over your nape, inducing a shiver. You don’t remember cracking open a window. Zach’s chatter distracts that thought and it’s forgotten.
Suddenly, he turns sharply to his left, tossing his head nearly all the way back and looks into the air. Your face shifts in faint concern as you watch him nod intently at seemingly nothing. After a moment of silent conversing, he turns back to you. “Xavier says he wants to play with us, can he?” he asks.
You glance to where the boy was directing his attention to seconds ago. “Sure,” you say, albeit hesitantly.
He jumps in success, sending droplets of his still wet hands everywhere. “Yes!” You force a smile, trying to ignore what just happened. “Xavier says you should be the finder the first round,” he says, glancing back over to where his friend is supposedly standing.
“Whatever Xavier says,” you agree, wiping your hands dry. “I’m counting to ten, okay?” You shield your eyes and begin counting. You hear Zach giggle, calling for Xavier to follow after him. At the last moment, you peer through the gaps of your fingers and catch sight of the blonde boy’s hand out, like he’s clutching another and pulling them forth. You swear you see another set of fingers around the little ones, but you blink and he’s gone. Shrugging it away, you refocus. “Ready or not, here I come,” you announce to the silent house once reaching ten.
You sweep through the rooms upstairs, peeking into closets, under beds, between furniture. When you come up with no signs of Zach, you decide to head back downstairs. Your feet touches the last step, and you hear shushing from the living room. Grinning, you quietly tiptoe toward the soft noise.
Your eyes lock onto the bay window curtains that sway the slightest. Cautiously, you approach to grab one of the folds and jerk it back with a “Gotcha!” What greets you is emptiness. You blink rapidly, expecting Zach to be there. There was no mistaking the curtain movements; it was so obvious and clear that you couldn’t chalk it up to paranoid imaginings even if you wanted to. Then another breeze, almost like a wisp of breathe, hits your hairline. Gasping, a hand slaps over the area of raised hair and you whip around to nothing.
Relax, it’s just the heat. Yet you’re suddenly on edge, the silence an overwhelming substance in the air. You’re tempted to call the game off but hear the patter of feet from the kitchen. That is definitely Zach. With a sigh, you trail after the noise, glancing back at the alcove. Still nothing. Maybe you were seeing things. You stow your worries away for now, tearing through the kitchen, only to come up Zach-less.
“When did you get so good at this?” you ask out loud, more to yourself than him. Naturally, there’s no response. There’s only the bathroom left, so you check in there. You poke your head into an empty shower. Did he go upstairs?
So you go back up and hear a resounding thump and shuffling from the guest’s bedroom while you pass by. You slide up against the door, turning the knob in a slow twist and prepared to catch Zach in the act of scrambling for a hiding place. Then you hear a crash followed by Zach’s yelp from downstairs and you pause. Knowing you didn’t mistake the sound from the guest’s bedroom, you barge in. Again, nothing.
A splice of jarring fear clinches you, making it impossible to breathe. “What the hell?” You reel from the doorway, as if the room’s come alive and is about to devour you. Your eyes dart everywhere, seeking the source of sound. Nothing. Your insides constrict at the aspect of the undisturbed room.
Zach’s cry of your name draws you away from the ominous enclosed section. If it had been an intruder, he or she wouldn’t have had time to hide and the window would be open. It was only you and Zach in this house.
And Xavier , you faintly think to yourself, shutting the door with vain hope that it might close off the impending aura brewing within.
You retreat from the door and sprint to the boy without a backwards glance. One comfort session with an ice pack to a skinned knee later, you question Zach on his imaginary friend.
“Where was he hiding?” you ask, putting the first-aid kit away.
“In the guest’s room,” he replies.
A fist closes around your throat. “Yeah?” you croak out.
“Uh-huh. He likes hiding under the beds or closets. That’s where he sleeps in my room.”
Speaking of sleep. You glance at the clock, seeing it’s nearing 10 p.m. “It’s almost time for bed, buddy. Let’s go wash up first, okay?”
You direct Zach to brush his teeth and change into pajamas. Paranoid, you watch him ascend the stairs, fearing that something might jump out from the guest’s room and snatch him; however, when he passes by with no incident, you release the breath you’re holding. While waiting, you remember the third plate left out for Xavier. You tell the boy to wait for you and go clean up, almost not wanting to leave him out of your sight.
The plate is empty.
You don’t move, seemingly cemented to the tiles as you eye the ceramic with streaks of sauce. Hardly breathing, choking on dread, you check the trash bin. There’s no pasta and leftovers are packed away in the fridge. Zach wouldn’t voluntarily do that. Icy terror slams into you, weakening you so that you cave in and grasp the counter for support.
“Is this a joke?” you whisper to the air. You refuse to touch the plate, backing away from it like it were a ticking time bomb seconds away from triggering.
You don’t believe in the supernatural, but the events playing out are beginning to make you doubt that notion. A tide of nausea drowns you, blistering into a cauldron of interweaving black and white vertigo that leaves you shaking. You need to be with Zach, now. Fleeing from the scene, you burst into his bedroom. He’s tittering beneath a hand like he’s been exchanging secrets. At your arrival, he brightens up.
“Can you read me this story? Mom started it yesterday night, but didn’t finish,” he asks, already with a specific book in hand. Instead of complying, you sit across him and gaze over his innocent features.
Maybe you’re being ridiculous, maybe you’re overthinking. There’s no way Xavier’s real. You repeat that over and over again, like a mantra that might save you from who knows what. Ghosts? Marginally calming your jumbled nerves, you pick up the book and begin reading him to sleep even though you wish for nothing more than to haul Zach and run out the front door. As the story progresses, you also lose yourself within the words, urgently seeking out a distraction. Zach is already hovering between the realms of consciousness and unconsciousness before you can finish, but you can’t help the question that falls from your lips.
“Did Xavier eat?” you ask, voice quivering with mounting fear.
The boy nods, yawning. “He said dinner was great. Can we make him some pancakes tomorrow? He likes it whenever mom makes them. I think that’s his favorite food.”
He prattles on and on, but your mind is stuck on his first words. “Aren’t you a little too old for imaginary friends?” you whisper, wanting to hear him agree more than anything.
His initial joy melts into puzzlement. “But Xavier isn’t imaginary.”
You slowly shake your head. “I can’t even see him.”
“He’s real, though. I don’t know why not everyone can see him. But it’s okay; I think Xavier still likes you a lot. He says you smell really nice, which is kind of weird. It makes him sound like a dog, right?”
You nearly fold into yourself, on the verge of panicking. Miraculously, you gather the strength to hold your place. You sink your teeth into the fleshy inside of your lip, fighting the urge to ruin his fun by reaffirming your disbelief of Xavier.
“Zach…” Defeated, you sigh heavily, feeling everything weighing you down.
He then points behind you. “But he’s right there; look.”
Your blood bursts through your veins, sending your heart wild in overdrive. With an agonizing pace, you turn, turn, turn and come face to face with twin white orbs against a black figure. You stop breathing, eyes growing to a painful size, and a scream rips from you. You recoil away from the monster that’s also backed away at your violent reaction, and you reach for a startled Zach with intentions of fleeing downstairs.
The second you take off, Xavier darts from its position and chases after you. You don’t make it far, only to the beginning of the stairs before it jumps in front of you, thwarting your plans for escape. It stands to full height, looming over you by, what looks to be, three whole feet. It looks exactly like described: tall, long limbs, black with glowing eyes, and a mouth that splits its face, showcasing a row of sharp maws. What Zach failed to mention was its colossal frame that ripples with intimidating muscles. Its body is grotesque and unlike anything you’ve seen before, as if it attempted to mimic a human but failed and resulted in something horrific. And, gods, does it look the manifestation of raw fury.
Xavier growls at you, rigid and in the position to lunge should you make a movement. You back into the banister, arms coiled around the boy.
“W-what are you?!” you demand, trembling and overflowing with crippling terror which burns your eyes with tears. Xavier only releases a guttural, alien sound that rumbles from its throat, inching closer to you with a wicked snarl contorting its entire face. “Stay away; don’t you dare come any closer!” you threaten in a pathetic attempt to ward it off.
Zach wriggles in your tight hold. “Wait, Xavier won’t do anything; he’s not bad, I promise!” he cries.
“Zach, that’s…I-I don’t know, that’s a monster, can’t you see?!” Never once do you take your eyes off the being.
Xavier takes another step with a menacing hiss, and you flinch. Just then, the boy slips from your clutches and sprints to the creature. It welcomes him into its arms, protectively cradling its companion and holding him away from you.
“No!” you jerk forth but freeze when the monster bares its teeth at you with a blood curdling screech that makes you back down. You stumble away, tripping on your feet and arms out to defend yourself.
“Xavier, stop!” It immediately obeys, hovering over you. “She didn’t mean it, she just got scared. She’s really nice, you saw it, too. I love her, and if you hurt her, I won’t forgive you.” Xavier bristles at the claim in disbelief but doesn’t make a move. “Let go of me, please?” It hesitates, but does as its asked.
You quickly scoop Zach up, cautiously eyeing Xavier and waiting for it to try anything. It crouches on its haunches, naked muscles swelling and coiling and imprisons you with its arms on both sides of you. A thundering growl reverberates from its body, like some warning sound. You’re surprised it hasn't broken the banister yet.
Zach, seeing the obvious tension, speaks up. “Please be nice to each other, I like you both a lot. I don’t want you guys to get hurt.”
“Zach, but he’s, its…” You lock eyes with the creature, shriveling up from its predatory stare.
“Just because he looks different doesn’t mean he’s bad,” Zach chastises.
And just like that, shame scorches you. Even a child knows better than you. Sighing, you shift the boy so he’s equally between you two but still keep a hand on him. Reluctantly, you say, “You’re absolutely right. I can’t judge anyone just because they don’t look like me; I’m sorry.”
He shakes his head. “You have to say sorry to Xavier.”
Swallowing through the grip on your throat, you face the creature who’s looking at you expectantly. “I…I’m sorry, Xavier,” you murmur after a stifling minute, earning a smile from Zach.
“Xavier, you say sorry, too, for scaring her.”
You don’t expect it to be able to speak, despite its mouth, but you certainly aren’t prepared for when it leans forward despite being so near already. Your faces are unbearably close that you feel its breath. You don’t move a muscle, anticipating whatever Xavier has in store for you. You watch it part its teeth and unfurls an elongated tongue in horror. Tense, you hold your breath as Xavier angles its head and lodges its face into the juncture of your throat. You jerk back, hitting the rods preventing you from moving. The monster wraps its enormous hand across your chest—huge enough to span beyond your width—to keep you in place, but you have an inkling suspicion that’s a display of power and dominance than anything else.
A strangled protest of a sound warbles from your lips, afraid he might bite out a chunk of your neck. Instead, it nuzzles into your pulse. A sort of purr releases from the being while it strokes its nose and cheek further into your jaw, like an attempt at imprinting. It’s not as bad as you dread until its tongue comes into play. The hot flesh laps the column of your throat without any qualms. You shriek, pushing it away with all your strength, which is nothing against Xavier. Somewhere among the heat of its tongue, purring, and tight grip, Zach giggles.
Xavier is still slathering the entirety of your neck with the flat of its thick muscle that can wrap around your throat whole, while you’re fighting the urge to recoil in disgust at the thick saliva painting your skin. You’re surprised it isn’t toxic and burning through. Involuntarily, you tilt your head away to avoid its tongue, only to give it all the access it could want to the side of your neck. Gleefully, Xavier playfully gnaws on the skin. Nothing enough to break it, but enough to prick and make you scream in alarm, fueling your fear of being eaten.
“Okay, apology accepted!” you shriek out, fighting to escape. Thankfully, it lets up with a final nip. Positive you’re thoroughly traumatized and about to faint, you remind Zach of his bedtime.
“Aw, but I’m not tired anymore,” he pouts. He turns to Xavier for help, who only shakes its head.
“Come on, Zach.” You stand, mentally exhausted, and lead the boy back into his room. Xavier is on your heels. Again, you feel its breath, eliciting a terrified shiver.
You tuck Zach in, read him another story, and collapse into the guest’s room, leaving both doors open. Xavier slipped under his bed earlier, presumably sleeping. Initially you wanted to stay with Zach, but it seems the monster has been here for some time, and if it had intentions of hurting the boy it would have done so already. And you can’t rid of the image of it protecting him from you of all people.
You curl into yourself, letting the flow of emotions get the better of you. You cry. From relief or fear, you aren’t sure. A settling weight at the end of your bed slices through the moment and you bolt up with the comforter clutched to your neck scrubbed tender and raw. In the mesh of the darkness, you can see Xavier’s outline as it sits on its haunches once more. Neither of you do anything, heightening the pressure that makes you restless.
Finally, you’re brave enough to question him. “What do you want?”
Its head tilts, glowing eyes ever unblinking. Deliberately, Xavier crawls toward you. Even with its slowness, you let out a keening pitch and throw yourself against the cushioned headboard, predicting the worst now that Zach’s away.
You can’t formulate any words that may halt him. Instead of heeding your rejection, it advances right into your face, inches away. The proximity drives you to tussle out of the bed, but it's frighteningly quick. Xavier’s hand shoots out to capture you before you have the chance to break away. It drags you onto your back, pinning you there, and towers over you. Your breath comes out in short pants as your hands fly out to any part of it to hold it back.
“Please,” you gasp, an onslaught of tears blinding you, “please, don’t hurt me.”
Xavier shakes its head in negative. You still whimper, though, thousands of scenarios sprouting within your mind. Once again, it slowly descends its face toward you, only stopping when your noses are an inch apart, spurring a soft cry from your trembling lips. For the longest time, the monster does nothing but appraises you with such a staggering intensity you’re glad that you’re not standing.
You’re on the verge of lashing out, but a single finger strokes from your temple to your chin. Its touch is so startling ginger you find it hard to believe it’s from the same creature that was moments away from harming you earlier.
It rasps out a gravelly, “No crying.”
You’re so shell-shocked that all you can do is nod.
“Good. Night night,” it whispers, feathering its finger over your tear streaks.
Your eyes flutter once. “Good—good night,” you whisper back. The second it slithers into the darkness and out of your temporary room, you curl back into the fetal position, wondering what happened. That night you fall into a fitful sleep.