Page 7 of Hollow

“Howdy ho, my creepy crawlies. It’s your boy, Jack Whoa Lantern,” the pumpkin-headed monster said while staring into a cellular device. “I’ve been getting a lot of comments suggesting folks think they can crack this. Let me tell you, don’t be deceived by my friendly demeanor. This is a whole lotta monster, and I don’t think some of y’all can handle it.”

Dimitri cocked his head, studying the way the Nuckelavee caressed his gray flesh as he flaunted his naked chest and flexed for the cellular device he held. While Dimitri understood they could be used to make telephone calls without fixed locations, and that many telephone calls had evolved into the form of jaunty letters sent in rapid succession as a method of avoiding conversation, he hadn’t realized they also involved talking at the telephone. Not in it. At it. A truly bizarre notion to Dimitri. Upon closer inspection, it almost seemed as though the cellular device reflected the pumpkin’s face like a mirror.

There was so much about technology Dimitri didn’t grasp. Before he was abducted by the Hearst family and locked away in their dungeons, technology seemed less complex. Televisions were big boxes with staticky screens instead of flat, giant sheets mounted on walls. Telephones came with cords; now they had imaginary wires that populated the air and sent strange signals. Dimitri didn’t like it.

Mostly, Dimitri didn’t understand it. No one in the Hearst family ever sat down and explained the nearly fifty-year gap in technology he’d missed, so he only really pieced together things when brought out on a hunt. Even then, most monsters didn’t use telephones or anything else. Only the hunters did that when communicating with the Hearst family. Otherwise, they stuck with their radios.

“We have unwanted guests,” a dog growled, carrying a deep telepathic echo as it stepped outside.

“Oh, shit.” The Nuckelavee turned his phone off and stuffed it in his pocket. “What can I say? Thirst traps sell.”

The pumpkin the Nuckelavee wore had a strange, shadowy smile. It seemed to move like magic. Truly fascinating. This Nuckelavee had a name, and while he didn’t want to learn it, knowing the creature would soon die, he found it weirdly interesting. Jack Whoa Lantern. Dimitri had no idea what his parents were thinking with such a title, but it certainly was catchy.

“It appears I do get to devour some souls this eve.” The dog stood firmly beside Jack Whoa Lantern and eyed the hunters, Irvin in particular. “That was our deal.”

“Well, let’s hit the brakes on that.” Jack Whoa Lantern raised his hands to the dog, indicating murder was unnecessary.

A foolish decision in Dimitri’s opinion, but he couldn’t warn the monster. He’d paid the price many times before when he attempted to help a cryptid escape the clutches of the hunters.

The dog barked in protest.

“So, it would appear you lot are hunters.” Jack Whoa Lantern gestured to the guns and Kevlar. “Now, I am curious how you lot managed to find me. Guessing you have some fancy tech, but it shouldn’t be able to pinpoint me.”

Jack Whoa Lantern sized everyone up until his eyes landed on Dimitri. The squinting triangle shapes turned into large, round orbs, and it appeared the pumpkin was genuinely surprised to see Dimitri.

Well, the pumpkin itself wasn’t. It was just a mask of some type. Dimitri could sense the magic wafting off the hollowed-out pumpkin, but he didn’t understand why the Nuckelavee wore it over his head.

“And what exactly are you?” Jack Whoa Lantern narrowed his eyes and studied Dimitri’s features. “Are you a Leshy? Holy hell. I haven’t come across one of your kind in almost a century. Since when do guardians of the forest work with hunters?”

“I have no choice,” Dimitri said so fast he didn’t even register the words.

His Russian accent was thick, but he rarely spoke these days. The only reason he even picked English was because the Hearst family and their hunters would scold him fiercely when he didn’t communicate properly.

“No choice, huh?” Jack Whoa Lantern asked. “And why’s that?”

“Do you not aaarrhhhh—” Electricity coursed through Dimitri’s body, sending sharp pulses of pain through all his nerves.

He nearly collapsed until Samual let go of the button that triggered his collar. The chains around his arms and legs were warmed from the shock, and the rods embedded in his flesh throbbed.

“I see.” Jack Whoa Lantern nodded. “Hmm, I think I can fix that.”

Dimitri wanted to speak, to warn the Nuckelavee to flee. Mostly, Dimitri wanted to hope this Jack Whoa Lantern could fix things. But Dimitri knew there was no helping him.

“Enough of this,” Irvin said, signaling to the other hunters to spread out into a formation.

“You can call me Jack,” he said, giving Dimitri a big ole grin. “I’ll get your name after I kill these fools.”

Dimitri wanted to believe it, even if it seemed preposterous that this half-naked, pumpkin-wearing, telephone-obsessed Nuckelavee could really take on twelve hunters.

“Yes,” the dog bellowed with a happy bark. “I get to consume souls.”

“Fine, but you only get to eat one,” Jack declared. “The screams are so annoying. It’s like, how long does it take to devour a soul?”

“Mere seconds that linger for eons, if I am fortunate,” the dog whispered with a low growl, his eyes glowing red.

Each of the hunters tensed. Dimitri felt their squeamish confusion dance on the breeze. Even if this cryptid and his beast were to die this day, the fear they invoked brought a bit of joy to Dimitri.

Dimitri quickly discerned the hunters couldn’t hear the dog’s words, as all their attention was fixated on Jack. While Dimitri had no idea what the dog was, he realized there was something wicked within it.