Bad Moon Rising

“DAD THAT CREEPY GUY IS IN THE BUSHES AGAIN!!”

Nathaniel is agitated and snarling out the window. Claws curling into the window frame and holding himself back from outright BARKING.

“Voices…?” She looked at the blank wall silently for a moment, but even with her heightened senses she could see anything. Turning back to face the boy, she was trying to guess his age; he looked quite young. “Ah, I get it. Are they your imaginary friends?”

A pause. She hoped they were friendly, anyway. His blank stare was slightly unnerving, but Goldie tried to ignore the chill up her spine. “What are they saying?”

He didn’t answer her first question. Nathaniel only vaguely understood the concept through watching Orion play with his stuffed toys. Or at least that’s what he assumed she was getting at. The young boy had no idea what these tiny whispers were. Only that he could hear it when the Mother’s voice faded. Dad probably would be upset if he knew he listened to them so closely. 

It? Them? -- He didn’t know if it was multiple or simply a change in one voice’s tone. Only thing he did know is that to him - it wasn’t imaginary the way it pooled in corners. Lurking. Watching. It was getting too hard to focus on what was happening around him. The tiny boy had started to sway the barest amount. Her second query though... that he answered although perhaps she would wish he ignored that one two.

The boy didn’t seem to notice her, his attention focused solely on the wall in front of him. He seemed intent on boring a hole right into it; Goldie assumed he must be lost in thought, since there didn’t seem to be anything in particular that he was looking at. She waited for a few beats, hoping for him to come out of his reverie on his own; it would be rude to disrupt his daydream after all. But when the boy remained silent as the seconds ticked by, her curiosity got the best of her.

“Hey, what’re you thinking about?”

“I am talking with the voices in the walls.” 

His voice was so soft. Barely audible, he didn’t even glance in her direction. Those silvery eyes not straying from their spot. Way too intent on what he believed he was communicating with. Although maybe she’d start to feel a prickle on the back of her neck. Maybe some primal instinct that she too was being watched.