The fireplace poker trembled in Vinny's grip as he stared at the stranger who smelled like gunpowder and wet earth. The man's golden eye gleamed in the dim light, tracking Vinny's every movement with unsettling precision. The scar cutting through his milky left eye gave him a permanently sinister expression, like a villain from one of those old westerns Vinny's mom used to love.
"You're not my uncle," Vinny said, tightening his grip on the poker.
Silas chuckled, the sound rough as gravel, and tossed another photo onto the rumpled bedsheets. This one showed Vinny's mother as a teenager, her face grim as she gripped a hunting knife with the same silver markings Vinny now bore on his arm. Behind her, the twisted oak tree loomed, its branches forming shapes that made Vinny's stomach turn.
"Your mama never told you about the Calloway curse?" Silas rolled up his sleeve, revealing faded scars where markings identical to Vinny's had once been. "We're bridges, kid. Doorways between worlds. And right now, you're holding open a door that should've stayed goddamn shut."
A cold draft swept through the room despite the closed window. Vinny's mark pulsed in response, the silver lines glowing faintly beneath his sleeve. He could feel it - the tree's presence, its hunger. It was watching through his eyes, listening through his ears.
The house creaked ominously around them. Silas's golden eye flicked toward the doorway, his body tensing like a coiled spring.
"First lesson," Silas said, his voice dropping to a growl. "No more digging up those memories. Every time you remember that girl, you're feeding the damn thing." He jabbed a calloused finger at Vinny's marked arm. "Second lesson - you stay the hell away from that oak until the full moon. Right now it's just snacking on echoes. But in three nights?" He pulled a flask from his jacket and took a long swig. "It'll want a full-course meal."
The floorboard outside Vinny's bedroom door creaked.
Silas went still, his good eye narrowing. "You live alone, kid?"
"My mom's supposed to be at my aunt's-"
The sound of shattering glass from downstairs cut him off.
Before Vinny could react, Silas moved with terrifying speed, slamming him against the wall just as something heavy began thudding up the stairs. Not footsteps - something wetter, heavier. The sickening sound of roots dragging dead weight.
The smell hit first - rotting lilies and copper, so thick Vinny could taste it at the back of his throat. Then the voice, gurgling and horribly familiar:
"Viiiinny... She's waiting..."
Daniel - or what remained of him - filled the doorway. His skin had turned the color of old parchment, black veins pulsing beneath the surface. Vines sprouted from his nostrils, his mouth sewn shut with thin, squirming roots. His chest rose and fell in ragged breaths, each exhale releasing puffs of pollen that glowed faintly in the dark room.
From outside came Deborah's scream, sharp with terror.
Vinny lunged for the window, his body moving before his mind could catch up. He caught a glimpse of Deborah standing frozen on his front lawn, her face pale in the moonlight, before Daniel's chest split open with a wet tearing sound.
Where his heart should have been, a nest of silver-marked roots pulsed, identical to the ones in Vinny's arm. They lashed out like whips, smashing into the walls as Silas cursed and pulled a switchblade from his boot.
"Third lesson, kid!" Silas roared over the chaos. "Don't let those roots touch your-"
The world exploded in pain as the roots found their target. Vinny's vision whited out as he crashed through the window, the night air rushing past him. Somewhere in the chaos, he heard Silas shouting, heard the sickening crunch of his house collapsing inward as Daniel's body expanded, bursting through walls like overgrown ivy.
Vinny hit the ground hard, rolling to a stop at Deborah's feet. Her hands were on him immediately, her touch warm against his chilled skin.
"Vinny! Oh god, your arm-"
He looked down. The silver lines had spread, crawling up past his elbow now, pulsing in time with his racing heartbeat. The roots inside Daniel had recognized their kin.
Lena materialized from the shadows, her once-black eyes now fully silver, her grip like ice as she yanked Deborah back. "Run toward the monster?" she hissed. "Stupid even for you."
Vinny scrambled to his feet, his breath coming in ragged gasps. The wreckage of his house groaned, then erupted outward as Daniel's body unfurled - stretching into a towering column of flesh and roots, his face splitting vertically to form a grotesque maw filled with thorns.
"She wants the girl," the monstrosity rasped, its voice like wind through dead leaves.
Deborah went deathly pale. "Me?"
Vinny's mark burned white-hot as understanding crashed over him. "No," he gasped. "The other girl."
From the treeline behind the house, a figure emerged - Sheila, her once-blonde hair now woven with vines, her smile stretching ear to ear in a way no human mouth should.
"You were supposed to forget," she sighed, stepping over the rubble with unnatural grace. "Now we have to take her the hard way."
Silas appeared at Vinny's side, pressing the switchblade into his palm. The hilt bore the same markings as Vinny's arm.
"Time to choose, nephew," Silas growled. "You wanna stay the charming little liar everyone thinks you are?" His golden eye gleamed in the dark. "Or you wanna be what's in your blood?"
Somewhere in the chaos, Deborah screamed again. The sound tore through Vinny like a physical blow. The switchblade grew warm in his hand, the markings on its hilt beginning to glow in unison with those on his arm.
The roots were coming. The tree was watching. And Vinny was done running.