Chapter Text
It stormed a few nights back, the kind of storm that brings trees down. The back pasture got flooded and even after two days of nothing but sunshine, she's still sinking ankle-deep in mud when she treks out that way to repair the fence. That's when she sees it. Something creeping in the garden shed. She went in to collect a hammer and a bit of rope to lash the broken posts - she'd prefer to fix it up right but the river hasn't gone down yet so she'll have to make do with what's on hand - when something moves in the corner.
'Hello?'
Nothing.
Imogen frowns. Hoists the coil of rope over her shoulder. She spends another moment searching the dark corners of the shed but all there is to see is tools and mud. The shed could do with a clean, she decides, and adds it to her list.
Two days later, she's sure. There's a monster - unconfirmed, could be anything from the Other, but monster is as good a term as any - living in the garden shed. It has long dark hair and long bony fingers, but that's all Imogen has been able to see so far, all she caught a glimpse of before her father called her back into the house.
This morning, she brings breakfast out with her to the pasture. Thick slices of toasted bread laid over with roasted banana, all drizzled with honey and dusted with a hint of spice. Enough for two.
'Good morning?' she calls out, lingering in the doorway of the shed. 'I've brought some food, if you're hungry.'
Something rattles in the far back of the shed.
Imogen smiles. Sets the plate out on the shelf beside her. She stoops to turn over a bucket to sit on and when she lifts her head, she does so slowly, with the awareness that something is standing against the opposite wall. Her heart gives a solid kick, pulse hammering in her neck, her ears. For a moment, it's all she can hear. She's not scared, exactly, but the feeling is something close to it. A feeling like she always explains it, like standing on the edge of a cliff - like the one at the edge of the Faramore property - and knowing the open air before her is the world too, just the same as the solid ground behind, only it's not made for her.
'That was some storm the other night, huh? Made a mess of my fences,' Imogen tells the monster, clicks her tongue. 'Did you get swept down here in it? Can't imagine being caught out like that. Must've been mighty frightening! You're not hurt, are ya? Because if you are, I'd be happy to get some supplies for you, or see about calling up Mister Grass-'
no.
Imogen grips her plate and fork hard in an effort to keep from jumping. She makes a wordless sound, apology, when she fails because her flinch sends the monster scurrying away in a wash of shadows. Imogen tries to follow the movement but the whole world looks like it's spinning, shadows rushing, swirling, across the floor and walls. A few tools rattle in place, a rake dropping from its hook, and then the shed is silent and still and Imogen can't figure out where the monster might've gone. She hopes it's still here and not fled out.
'I'm sorry!' she calls, hoping it's not gone so far that it can't hear her. 'I'm sorry - it's just been so long since the last time I spoke with one of your kind. I promise, I'm not scared, you didn't hurt me -'
you should be scared. i could hurt you. i could. bite and slash and -
Imogen raises her brows, unimpressed by posturing. 'And?'
and other horrid things.
'Oh yeah, I'm real scared. Shakin' in my boots.' Imogen snorts, shakes her head. She tries to coax the thing out again. 'Why don't you come out here? Have some food and we'll see about getting you home.'
Something about the way the silence changes tells Imogen she's said the wrong thing. She's not sure which part of her invitation drew this reaction but a dense gloom settles about the space, cold and heavy and very, very sad. Imogen blinks back tears, finds her hand pressed to the cloth around her neck, fingers gripping the worn, warm fabric. As soon as the feeling comes, it is gone again. The pressure of it eases. The cold lifts. Imogen shivers. Swipes at her eyes, her cheeks. Her tears crackle against her skin, not frozen but close to it. She swipes the wrist of her sleeve under her nose, sniffles.
'I - I'll leave the food, alright? And if you need anythin' at all, you just let me know.'