Side Story 1 - The Baker Next Door

Content warning - Domestic Abuse

-Twenty years ago. A few weeks after John came to this world.-

Lindsey was going about her day of preparing dough. It‘s what she did every day for the last eight years. It was not something she really wanted to do, but she needed to make a living.

Over the years she had converted the ground floor of her home into a bakery. Old bookshelves had been converted into makeshift displays for the bread. She had refurbished an old cash register she had found in the garbage, and moved the oven out of the kitchen to the front to watch customers while bread was baking. Everything was old and grimy and mostly second hand, but it was the best she could do to run a legitimate business.

The establishment itself would not offer the impression of a well to do business, quite the opposite. It was, however, not struggling due to Lindsey's efforts, but her husband. Her husband Dave was a drunk, spending a lot of the money she managed to make on booze or gambling.

It was frustrating for Lindsey. They lived on the east end of the city, which meant her customer base were people that were bordering on poverty, and people who were outright impoverished. This meant her margin for profit was incredibly narrow, and then she has a husband that would spend that money on drinks rather than help run the business.

Thinking about such things made her so angry. She would then take that energy and beat the dough a little harder.

Tim: “Mom, is everything OK?”

Lindsey: “Oh Tim. You're home. When did you get back from school?”

Tim: “I've been home for a while mom. I called out to you earlier, but you were too busy with bread making to hear me.”

Lindsey: “Oh. Sorry about that. Is there something mamma can do for you?”

Tim: “Can I help?”

Lindsey: “What?”

Tim: “Well you look tired and I thought I could help you around the store.”

Lindsey: “No no no. Don’t worry about that. You just focus on your studies, or go play with your friends if you have your homework done.”

It looked like Tim was about to say something else, but stop.

Tim: “Ok… “He said with a sad look in his eyes.

Tim went upstairs to his bedroom. As soon as he was out of sight, Lindsey went back to kneading dough. Getting lost in her work again.

Lindsey knew she wasn't fooling anybody, even her eight year old son could see she was tired. She didn’t want to worry her son, but was failing at that.

The truth of the situation was that Dave was getting more rowdy lately and has been hitting her more often.

Dave found a new bar selling cheap booze and has been going to it. The problem was that when Dave got drunk, he could get violent, and cheap booze meant it was more likely to happen. In the past, she knew how to defuse him when he was in a drunken state, but now that he was coming home every other day drunk. It was too much for her.

.

She just wanted to leave this place and never return, but she couldn’t. She couldn’t leave her son here. Lindsey herself was prepared to live on the streets to get away from that man, but that was something she would never put Tim through. So, in secret she was hiding money in preparation to run away with her son, but was still far off from having enough to do so.

She was trapped. The only thing she could do was grin and bear it, and hope for some miracle to happen.

.

She was so stressed she could hear ringing in her head.

She thought to herself.

Sure enough, when she turned her head there was a man standing by the front desk ringing the call bell with a box in his hand.

She walked towards the front desk flustered at not noticing the bell sooner.

Lindsey noted the man's features. It was a new face she hadn’t seen before. He was tall and well dressed with black hair and red eyes. The red eyes were odd, but she just chalked it up to the man being a mutant with a subtle mutation.

Lindsey herself was not put off by mutants like people in the west end. After all, with the majority of mutants living on this side of the city, you would inevitably need to interact with them. She ultimately didn’t care who or what walked through that door, as long as they were paying customers.

Lindsey: “Sorry about that. What can I get ya.”

John: “A pleasure to meet you. I'm John Li. Your new neighbor,” he said with a smile as he stuck his hand out to be shaken.

Lindsey looked at the man's hand for a little while before awkwardly shaking it.

Lindsey: “I'm Lindsey Gorm. Um, nice to meet you too. I didn’t know anyone was moving in recently.”

She had been so busy dealing with Dave it didn’t surprise her that someone new moved in without her noticing, not that she cared. People around here kept to themselves, with any interaction between them being purely transactional. Herself no exception.

John: “Yeah. I moved here about a week ago. It was quite a sudden move too, so I expect most around the neighborhood have yet to notice.”

Lindsey: “Oh. OK.”

After she said that there was this awkward silence between them. It went on for a bit too long. She could tell that the man was clearly struggling to maintain his smile and composure.

John: “Um-um. I-I brought a housewarming gift. I made them myself, kinda, but not really. Um, it's hard to explain.”

Lindsey: “Housewarming gift? Isn’t that something your neighbors are supposed to give you, not the other way around.”

John's face was starting to turn a little red with embarrassment.

John: “Y-yes I suppose you're right. Um, then just a gift. A gift for our meeting today,” he said as he pushed the white box he was holding towards Lindsey.

Lindsey: “Right. So is there anything else I can help you with?” she said as she set the box to the side.

John: “Um, no? That’s everything. Um, it was nice meeting you. If you need anything I'm right next door.” he said as he turned awkwardly to leave the store.

Lindsey: “Wait a moment.” As she said this, John froze. “Are you sure you don’t want to purchase some bread before you go?”

John: “Bread? Right, this is a bakery.” he said as tuned to face Lindsey.

Lindsey: “It sure is.”

John: “Um, OK then. Any recommendations?”

Lindsey: “We got normal bread and heavy bread. If you want something sweet, come back during a holiday and I'll have something for you.”

John: “What's heavy bread?”

Lindsey: “It's bread that will fill ya, but doesn't taste the greatest. It’s the cheaper option. If you want something that doesn't taste terrible, go for the regular bread.”

John: “OK… Then I guess I'll have a loaf of the regular.”

Lindsey nodded and proceeded to take a loaf of regular bread she baked earlier and put it in a paper bag before handing it to john.

Lindsey: “That will be three glint.”

He nodded his head before reaching into his pocket for a wallet. He then fumbled through his wallet to look for money to pay her.

She thought to herself with some pity.

On the surface it looked like John was struggling with his wallet, the reality was John had no idea how the currency denominations worked in this world. He was still really new to this world. While he seemed to have somehow gained the ability to talk to the people of this world, that didn’t extend to being able to read this world's script. The bills he had in his wallet had a bunch of symbols on them that meant nothing to him.

He was already feeling a little embarrassed and didn’t want to make himself look worse, so John grabbed a silver looking bill in his wallet and handed it to Lindsey. seaʀᴄh thё ηovёlFire .net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

Lindsey: “Thank you. Let me just get your change.” she said, taking the money.

John: “Keep the change.”

Lindsey: “Oh, OK.” She said as she handed him the bread.

While handing the bread off to John, her sleeves rolled up a little, revealing some bruises on her forearm. John noticed this.

John: “Um, is everything OK?”

Lindsey: “Yeah. Why do ya ask—” she stopped mid sentence and noticed the bruise on her arm was showing.

She then quickly pulled her sleeve down.

Lindsey: “D-don’t worry about it.”

Telling John not to worry so quickly only made him more suspicious. He guessed she might be dealing with some sort of physical abuse. He wanted to help, but they just met each other and felt he had no right to involve himself. Regardless, he still intended to offer what help he could.

John: “If you need any help, I'm right next door. Seriously, please don’t hesitate,” he said, as he quietly took his bread and left the store.

As the door closed behind John, Lindsey was left alone in her store speechless.

Lindsey was surprised. She was used to people not caring. There was a time that Dave hit her in the face, giving her a black eye, something she couldn't easily hide. Her regulars would come into the store after that happened and say nothing about it, despite the abuse being clear for all to see. This was just the way things worked for people living on the east side of Graheel. You look out for yourself and keep your nose out of other people's business.

She was cynical and couldn’t believe John's concern was genuine at first, but the man was so awkward she also couldn't believe he was capable of lying.

She absentmindedly wondered before noticing the sun was going down.

She quickly closed up shop and started preparing dinner.

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One hour later.

Lindsey had finally finished cooking dinner. It consisted of a stew made with the cheapest vegetable she could buy and leftover bread she failed to sell. She must have made this a thousand times already and was sick of it, but it was this or going hungry.

She served up a bowl worth of stew and called for her son.

Lindsey: “Tim. Dinner is ready,” she yelled out

Tim: “Coming mom,” he yelled in response to his mother.

Thumping above Lindsey's head could be heard as Tim made his way downstairs. Once downstairs and seated at the table they both began to eat their dinner.

Tim was telling his mom about the things he learned in school while they ate. The subject he was learning about white mages today. He went on about how he would become one and beat up all of the evil mages.

Lindsey thought it was adorable. She played along and encouraged Tim, to allow him to dream a little longer. She did not have the heart to tell him he would never be a mage, let alone a white mage. Neither her or her husband had any magical abilities, meaning Tim was unlikely to develop any ability to use aether, especially if he hadn’t developed them already.

After dinner was done Tim noticed the white box in the corner.

Tim: “Hey mom, what's in the box?”

It was the gift that John had given her. She was so focused on preparing dinner that she had forgotten about it. She didn’t even bother to see what he’d given her, so she didn’t exactly know what it was.

Lindsey: “Not sure honey. Let me check.”

She opened up the box expecting to find some simple baked goods like pancakes, but the contents were far different and perplexed her. She saw round spheres like disks neatly placed in rows, each one a different color of a rainbow.

She silently thought to herself.

She believed that the objects were far too bright and colorful to be simply food, but she couldn't figure out the application. She could only guess that it was some sort of bouncy ball. Wanting to test that theory she one picked it up, only to discover how soft and brittle it was. It fell apart in her hand with the application of little pressure. The outside was hard, but the inside was soft and cakey with a layer of cream in the center.

Lindsey: “By the light, are these cakes? How are they so colorful? Even the cream in the center matches the color on the outside.” she mumbled to herself.

She had no idea what they were, because she couldn’t. These were baked goods that John had manifested in his store, using the memories of the world he originally was from. They were macarons, a type of baked goods that does not exist in this world. The food coloring used in them was also something people would have never seen. Coloring in food was mostly non-existence for average people. Achieving a similar result would require very expensive ingredients.

Lindsey, unaware of all this, was worried about the baked goods in front of her. Was it safe to eat, was it even meant to be eaten, was this some weird alchemical experiment? All these questions ran through her head as she stared at the crumbled macaron in her hand.

Tim: “Mmmm. So good,” he mumbled with his mouth full of food.

Lindsey dropped the macaron and turned her head to see her son stuffing his face with one. She was so focused on the macaron in her hand that she failed to notice her son helping himself to one in the box.

Lindsey: “T-timmy! Spit that out right now!” she yelled.

Tim: “B-but why? You said it was dessert,” he said wide-eyed and confused.

Lindsey: “It could be poisonous!”

Tim: “Why would dessert be poisonous?” he said, as he swallowed.

It was too late. Tim had already swallowed the macaron. Lindsey grabbed her son and stared at him intensely for a few minutes, looking for any sign of poisoning. She had heard alchemical mixtures were fast acting and would reveal effect soon after consuming, but nothing happened.

Tim: “Um-um, did I do something wrong?”

Lindsey: “Do you feel weird or anything?”

Tim: “N-no?”

She took a deep breath and calmed herself down, before letting go of her son. Tim seemed all right. If it was some sort of weird alchemy experiment, something should have happened by now. This left her perplexed.

She wondered to herself.

Tim: “Am I In trouble?”

Lindsey: “No, but you shouldn't eat random things.”

Tim: “I’m sorry. I thought I was meant to be eaten. It just smelled so sweet.”

Lindsey: “Was it good?” She said with a smile, a lot calmer now that she was pretty sure that the baked goods she received were not dangerous.

Tim: “Hmm humm. It was the best tasting thing I ever had. Oh, but I still really like your baked goods mom.” he said, worried about hurting his mothers feelings.

Looking at the box of strangely colorful baked goods made her curious. Her son was ok after eating and said they were tasty. She too wanted to know how they taste.

She picked up another of the strange baked goods from the box that was bright pink. Lindsey took a big bite. It was slightly chewy, sweet, and nutty with a fruity flavor she was unfamiliar with. She thought her son was overreacting about how good it was, as children tend to do, but he wasn’t too far off about how delicious it was.

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Lindsey hated to admit, but even if she had access to the best ingredients and equipment, she wasn't sure if she could make something like this. Hurting her pride as a baker a little.

Lindsey: “Oh, wow. It’s really good,” she said, surprised.

Tim: “See. I told you.”

Lindsey: “That you did. You can have two more of these, cookies? And, then it's off to bed, OK.

Tim: “OK, mom.” he said with a big childish smile.

Her son grabbed two more of the colorful baked goods and ran up to his room.

Lindsey was now left alone in the kitchen. She went through the usual routine of collecting the dishes and washing them thoroughly, before placing them back neatly in the cupboard. She then wiped down the kitchen table with a damp cloth.

Once she felt that everything was adequately clean, she headed to the front of their home and grabbed the cash register. She carried it back to the kitchen and laid it on the table with a thud.

She was intending on counting the amount she made today.

She wasn't expecting much. It was a slow day and there weren't many customers. There would be almost no point in doing this if it wasn't for her husband. Lindsey needed to get to the money in the register before he did. She needed to hide it away so that it wouldn’t be taken for Dave’s drinking.

She pushed a button in the register and the cash tray pushed out. She took what was in there and placed the money in different piles to make it easier to sort. She could tell by a quick glance that she only made only around twenty glint today.

She let out a long sigh.

She disappointingly thought to herself

She began to count the money. As she was counting she noticed that one of the silver ten glint bills looked a little strange. The number on it was wrong and had too many digits on it.

She silently thought to herself.

She grabbed a pair of scissors from a nearby drawer and started shredding the note. As she was doing this, she was having a hard time. Her scissors couldn’t cut through it, the note would just push itself between the blades instead of cutting.

After fiddling with the note for a minute, she threw the scissor and note down on the table in frustration. She then buried her face in the palms of her hands and started crying.

The frustration the counterfeit bill gave her was the final nail in her miserable day that broke her down.

She thought to herself while silently weeping, trying to make sure her son couldn’t hear her.

She sat there quietly weeping for five minutes before she was able to eventually pull herself back together.

After rubbing her eyes, she noticed something strange about the fake bill. It was a bright shade of gray, unlike the normal ten glint bills. Also, despite her rough handling of the bill, there were no crinkles on it at all. She stared at it curiously for a while, and a thought popped into her head.

She immediately got up and rushed over to another nearby drawer. She rummaged through until she found a lighter. Lindsey ran back to the kitchen table and picked up the odd silver bill. She ignited the lighter and put the bill under the flame. A minute went by, but the note didn’t deform or burn from the flame beneath it.

Lindsey: “T-t-t-t-this is a real platinum bill! And, it says it’s worth fifty thousand glint!” she half yelled out in surprise.

The bill not burning confirmed in Lindsey's mind that it was the real thing.

Fifty thousand glint was more than enough for her to set herself and son up in a new place, away from Dave. She still couldn’t entirely believe it. She didn’t think that this was real, but there wasn't anything telling her otherwise.

“ she wondered to herself.

Lindsey wasn't entirely sure if it was him, but she wasn't going to let this go to waste.

She quickly moved to a nearby shelf in the kitchen and slowly started to push it to the side. The shelf made a high pitched scraping sound as it was pushed.

Once it was moved about a foot, a small hole in the wall hidden behind was revealed. Lindsey reached her arm into the hole and rummaged around a little and pulled a small metal lock box.

She placed it on the kitchen table and popped it open. Inside was a collection of bills she had been collecting for awhile now. It was a paltry amount, but the platinum bill would make up for it. She placed the fifty thousand glint note securely in it, then headed upstairs with the lock-box under her arm.

Lindsey: “Tim! Pack up your things! We’re leaving!” she called out to her son.

Tim came out of his room to see his mother quickly coming up the stairs.

Tim: “W-what’s happening?”

Lindsey: “I said we’re leaving. Grab your favorite things and clothing and put them into a bag.”

Tim: “Where are we going?”

Lindsey: “I’ll tell you later. Just listen to mamma and do what you're told.”

Tim: “O-OK,” he said before heading back into his room to pack up.

Lindsey made her way to her bedroom and started pulling out clothing from the dresser and closet, before throwing them on her bed to sort. As she was going through her things, she found the box that contained her wedding ring.

Inside was a ring made from fake gold that her husband had given her at their wedding. Thinking about it, the day of the wedding was one of the times she was the happiest. They were not rich, but she was so hopeful back then and truly believed that Dave loved her. But, the last ten years had eroded what positive feeling she had left for him.

Even so, she was having a hard time parting with her ring. She ended up throwing the ring in her luggage with the metal lockbox and the rest of her things. Fifteen minutes went by with Lindsey packing. Once Lindsey felt that she had everything needed, she picked up her bag and went over to her son’s room to check on him.

Tim was inside his room struggling to shove some his toys into a backpack. By the shape of the backpack, Lindsey could tell that there were only toys packed in it.

Lindsey: “What are you doing Tim? I told you to take only your favorite toy.”

Tim: “B-but there are all my favorites, and I don't know how long we’re going to be away.”

Lindsey: “You need to take some clothing. Here,” she said as she took the bag and emptied out the contents of the bag and placed the toys on Tim’s bed. “You chose two of the toys you like the most, and I'll pack for you.”

Her son nodded in response.

Lindsey went through her son’s dresser and threw a bunch of clothing into his bag. While she was doing this, Tim was struggling to decide what toy to keep. Eventually she finished packing and turned back to her son.

Lindsey: “Ok, did you decide what you want to take?”

Tim: “I-i think I'll take these things,” he said, handing her an action figure of a knight in armor and a yoyo.

She took the toys and put them in her son's backpack.

Lindsey: “OK, let’s go,” she said while taking her son’s hand.

They made their way down the steps and to the front of the bakery. They approached the front door of their home before stopping. The door swung open and standing in their way was Dave.

He stood little over six feet (1.85 meter) and sported a ugly patchy beard. He had brown hair and had signs of balding on one side of his head. In his left hand was a nearly empty glass bottle of some spirit. Dave’s clothing was a mess and his face was bright red with a sheen of sweat and he smelled of booze. It was clear to everybody present that he had been drinking heavily.

Dave: “Wha-acha going ere?” he said while slurring his words and barely forming coherent sentences.

For a brief moment Lindsey's heart sank at her husband's appearance, but she put on a brave front and just decided to tell him what she was doing.

Lindsey: “We’re leaving, Dave.”

Dave: “W-whatz do you mean you're l-leavingz? It’z so late. L-let’s just go back to bedz.”

Lindsey: “No. I’m leaving you and I'm taking our son with me.”

Dave: “Whatz dis about?”

Lindsey: “You know exactly what this is about. It’s your drinking. You're ruining our business and you're hurting me, Dave. Your family.”

Dave: “Letz just calm down. I knowz you upsets. I-I’ll make dings right. Soz justz calm down.”

Lindsey: “I’m not going to calm down. I’ve put up with your behavior for almost ten years. If you're not going to even try for me or your son, then we’ll just go.”

Dave: “I knowz you mad. B-but, thiz is last time, I swear. I won’t, i won’t, i won’t drinkz no more.” he said with a burp that smelled of alcohol.

Lindsey: “I'm not going to do this anymore. You always say this is the last time. You always say you're not going to drink . You—” before she could say anything else, she was smacked in the face by Dave.

Dave: “You fucking bitch. You fucking thinkz my word no good now. Knowz your place.”

Tim: “Leave her alone!” he yelled out.

Lindsey straightened herself out and looked back at Dave defiantly, with a clear bruise on her face now from where she was hit.

Lindsey: “We’re leaving. Move.” she sternly stated.

She tried to push past Dave to leave, but was pushed back by him.

Dave: “Youz can leave when i say youz can leave.”

She tried to shove him out of the way, but was then clocked in the nose by her husband. Lindsey went tumbling backwards from the strike and landed on her side, her nose broken.

Tim: “No! Mom!” he yelled out and rushed to help his mother up.

Blood was now dripping out of her nostrils. She held her sleeve up to her nose, trying to stop the blood from getting all over her shirt. She then looked up and saw the silhouette of her husband standing in the doorway of their home, standing over her.

Never in her life did Dave look more like a monster than at this moment.

Dave: “Lookz like I’mma teachz you a leasonz,” he said, continuing to badly slur his word.

He started to walk toward Lindsey.

She tried to crawl away from Dave, but he grabbed her and then got on top, preventing her from getting away. He got on his knees and bent down towards her, and with his free hand, he wrapped it around her neck and began to strangle her.

Tim: “Stop it! Leave mom alone!” he yelled at his father while hitting him.

Tim’s punches were not doing much to stop his father, he was still a small eight year old boy, and not strong enough to get his father off Lindsey. Tim’s weak punches were only annoying Dave.

Eventually Dave got fed up with his son. He took the bottle still in his hand and smashed it against the side of the boy's head. The bottle shattered, leaving only the neck of the bottle still in his hand. Alcohol and sharp shards of glass went flying into Tim’s head, cutting and drawing blood around the poor child's face with the alcohol stinging his wounds and eyes at the same time.

Tim: “Ahh,” he cried out with tears of pain while falling to the side.

Lindesy was struggling to get free from Dave's grip. She watched as her husband smashed a bottle into her son, and lost it. She was enraged that he hurt her son. Lindsey started to dig her nails into his arm and tried to pry him off herself.

Dave: “Calm downz you bitchz,” he yelled at her.

She continued to struggle against his grip, but he was too strong. It was hard for her to breath and her vision was becoming blurry. In a final act of desperation, she raised her leg and kicked Dave right in the groin.

Dave cried out in pain and let Lindsey go to hold his family jewels. He collapsed on top of her and she then pushed him off to the side, all while he was groaning in pain.

She quickly stood up and ran up to her son, who was on the ground trying to rub the alcohol out of his eyes. There was a bunch of small shards of glass that had embedded itself in his head near his face.

Lindsey wanted to take the time to properly treat her son, but she knew it would only be a matter of time before Dave would recover from that groin kick, and then he would come after her. She grabbed Tim by his hand and helped him back onto his feet.

Lindsey: “Timmy, it's going to be ok. Just hold onto mamma’s hand and try to keep up.

Tim: “O-OK,” he said in a scared tone as he continued to try and rub the alcohol out of his eyes.

She grabbed her bag and ran out the front door with her son in hand. As she did that, Dave was already starting to get back and saw them running. Not wanting to let them go in his drunken state, he threw what was left of his bottle at Lindsey.

The glass hit her in the back and she felt a sharp pain, but with adrenaline already high, she ignored it and kept running.

She didn’t know what to do. Even in a drunken state, she knew that he would be able to chase them down as long as she had Timmy with her, slowing her down. She thought about asking for help from one of her neighbors, but she knew none of them would help her. This was still the eastside, people only look after themselves around here.

She then remembered that strange red-eyed man. She didn’t have any better idea, so she thought of asking John for help. Lindsey remembered he said they were neighbors. She looked around and saw a strange new store called the Mystic Emporium beside the bakery.

It wasn't just the store that looked strange, but the whole building too. It looked like a different building from other nearby stores, it was like somehow a completely new building was shoved beside her that wasn't there before.

She didn’t have time to ponder the peculiarity of the architecture. Dave was starting to recover from the pain and was making his way outside.

She rushed to the front of the mystic emporium and banged on the door. There was no response, but the door didn’t seem to be latched. As she banged, the door just opened. She was momentarily confused about someone leaving their door open like that in this neighborhood, but then saw Dave in the corner of her eye and rushed inside.

Now inside John’s store, she continued to be surprised to see an antique store with such a variety of items on display. There were shelves full of all kinds of interesting items she has never seen before.

Lindsey: “John! Are you there?” she yelled out.

There was no response or movement.

Lindsey: “Please! I-I-I need…some…help,” she said as her visions started to blur.

She felt dizzy and couldn’t maintain her balance. Eventually just collapsing face first on the floor. Her vision faded to black as she lost consciousness.

Tim was eventually able to get vision in one of eyes somewhat restored. When he did, he could see his mother collapsed on the floor in front of him laying in a pool of blood.

In her back was the piece of Dave's broken bottle sticking out of her back. The remains of the glass bottle he threw had punctured her quite deep. The adrenaline kept Lindsey from fully feeling the extent of the damage done to her.

Blood gushed out of the wound and pooled around her. Tim could now see a clear trail of blood to the front door of the store to his mother.

Tim rushed over to help his mother, but he didn’t know what to do. He was just an eight year old boy and this was beyond anything anyone would ever expect him to know how to handle.

Tim: “M-mom,” he cried out.

Dave: “Fucking bitch. Zee, this why i tellz you not to run.”

Tim turned his head and saw his father standing inside the store just in front of the doorway.

Dave: “Wellz, I guess it you turn next ya little shitz,” he said as he rolled up his sleeves and prepared to beat his son next. Not showing any signs of concern for his wife bleeding out on the floor.

Tim sat there beside his dying mother shaking in fear as Dave approached Tim. Dave seemed to have somehow tripped over himself in his drunken state.

Dave: “Ah, fuck!” he yelled as he fell.

Laying on the ground, he looked at his son, now even angrier. He was about to get up when something, that neither Dave or Tim could see, grabbed him by the ankle.

Dave: “W-what? Aaaah.” he yelled as he was dragged.

In one quick motion, he was pulled by his right leg across the floor by some unseen force.

He was dragged deeper into the store, towards the darkness. Dave grabbed the leg of a nearby table to try and stop whatever was pulling him, but the forcing pulling was too strong and his hand slipped, dragging him even faster. He was taken beyond from where Tim could see him. His yells quickly turned from a yell of surprise, to screams of abject terror.

Crunch, splat, snap, pop, and strange bubbling sound were all that Tim could hear, along with the fading screams of his father.

It all happened quickly and then became quiet, an eerie silence. It was a kind of silence that would be almost unbearable, but at the same time was also too frightening to break.

Tim sat there confused. The poor boy didn’t understand what had just happened. He looked towards the darkness from where his father was pulled into, waiting for some sort of reaction.

There was something in the dark shadows of this store.

Out of the darkness came an amorphous “thing” that moved into view of Tim’s sight. It dripped with an inky black darkness that devoured light and wore a white porcelain mask without any features except two dark eye holes. The mask was almost comically small compared to the rest of this creature's “body”.

The creature slowly slithered, or maybe crawled towards Tim. It was impossible to tell. Its movement and very existence was beyond understanding to human minds. It was unnatural. Every fiber of the little boy’s being was absolutely terrified. Something told him it was more than just a monster. It was indescribable. Just looking at it was unfathomable, Tim’s mind tried to reject its existence and it made his skull feel like it was going to crack open.

Mortal minds were not meant to see such a thing, there would be no words that could be used to properly explain what Tim saw.

It got real close, and what Tim could only assume was its ”head”, bent down until the white mask it wore was only a foot away from Tim’s face. Somehow he knew that under that mask was a more terrifying existence still.

Within the void of those eye sockets in the mask, it started to glow an otherworldly orange light.

Tim: “Ahhhhhhhhh” he screamed in terror in response to the creatures glowing “eyes”.

Tim’s screams would go unheard this night, by anything human.

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Lindsey opened up her eyes and quickly sat up in a panic. She got up so quickly, that a wet cloth that was on her forehead went flying. It flew across the room, hitting something with a wet splat.

She looked around confused with a worried sweat. She was in her bed in her room. The last thing she remembered was fainting in the neighbors store.

???: “A-are you OK?”

Looking across from her bed was Dave. The wet cloth that flung off her forehead had hit Dave in the face, and he was calmly peeling it off himself at the moment. In his hands was a bowl of water with more clothes in it.

Seeing Dave, Lindsey panicked and started to push her body back into the headboard of the bed, all in an attempt to get herself as far away from him as possible.

Lindsey: “G-g-get away!” she yelled at him.

Dave, with a pained expression, looked like he was about to say something, but stopped. There was now an awkward silence between the two that was only broken by the sound of a door behind Dave opening.

Tim: “Mamma!” the little boy yelled out as he came running into the room, towards his mother.

Lindsey: “Tim!” She yelled back.

She grabbed her son's face as he approached and looked over him carefully. She was making sure the cut he got when Dave hit him was ok, but couldn't see anything like that. She remembered vividly the glass shard sticking out of Tim’s head as they were running, but it was gone and there wasn't even a scar.

Lindsey: “Are you OK? Who treated your cuts?”

Tim just looked at his mother with an almost distant look for a second. There was a pause as the little boy was thinking about something before he then spoke.

Tim: “Um, I’m not sure what you mean.”

Lindsey: “Dave hurt you and we were running and then, and then…” She then paused as something felt off.

There were gaps in her memory and the bit she did recall didn’t feel right. Her recollection of her entering the neighbors store felt almost more like a dream than a memory. It made her doubt what happened last night was real. Her son didn’t have any damage on his face and was displaying no knowledge of what she was saying, combined with the weird feeling about that memory, she wasn't so sure what happened.

Dave: “Um, Lindsey. You fainted last night, while you were cooking dinner.”

Lindsey: “I fainted?” she repeated and started to calm down a little about Dave’s presence.

Dave: “Yeah, I got someone to look at you while you were unconscious. They said it was likely due to stress.”

Lindsey: “Oh…so it was a dream…” she mumbled to herself sadly.

With Dave’s behavior lately, the idea that she fainted from stress made sense to her. She was starting to come to terms that everything that happened was just a dream, but it was still deeply disappointing to her. It meant that the platinum bill she had was just part of a dream.

She thought to herself.

Without that money, she knew that meant she was trapped here with her abusive husband.

Dave: “Um, Lindsey. I-I know that maybe this isn't the best time or that if you’ll actually believe me, but i’m going to stop…”

Lindsey: “Stop what?” she said without even looking at her husband.

Dave: “Drinking. I know I've said it before, but I really mean it this time. You fainted because of me, because of… what I've done. I’ve always known that I needed to stop and have failed every time, but when I found you in that state, I-I couldn’t stand the thought of losing you.” he said sincerely with some tears in his eyes starting to form.

She had heard it a thousand times before that he would give up drinking. It never changed anything. He would renege on his promise and go back to the bottle. Any hope that she had of him actually keeping in his promise had died out a long time ago. However, something about this time felt different to Lindsey. It somehow felt more sincere than it had ever in the past.

Lindsey: “Do you mean it?” she said, still unsure.

Dave: “Yeah… I'm going to start being a real father and helping around here. So, you just get some rest. I’ll run the bakery and look after our son for today, OK?”

Lindsey didn’t respond and just nodded.

Dave’s face looked even more pained at his wife's response and then turned to his son.

Dave: “Tim, come’on. Let’s give your mother a rest.” he said as he opened the door to the room.

Tim hugged his mother before running over to the bedroom door, exiting the bedroom along with his father.

Once Lindsey was alone she started quietly crying. Everything that had happened in the past with Dave told her that he was lying. That this would not be any different than what happened before, and he would go back to drinking and beating her. She thought she was above believing Dave's lies now, but despite all that, there was still part of her that hoped this time was different.

That hope set herself up with more potential heartache and disappointment, and she knew it. She dreaded the pain that would follow. She told herself that it wouldn't be any different, but would still believe that it was. All this was causing her anguish at that moment.

Eventually she would calm down enough and eventually go back to sleep.

Fortunately in the coming days, the fears she felt then would never come to be. Dave really would never drink or hurt her again from this moment on. He would do everything he could and try to make it up to Lindsey for all the times he hurt her. It was like he was a new person.

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Just after the conversation Lindsey had with Dave after waking up. In the hallway outside where Lindsey was, Dave and Tim were standing beside each other. Now out of sight of his mother, Tim was shaking a little bit.

Tim: “I-I d-did what you told m-me.” he said with a clear tone of fear in his voice.

Dave looked down at the boy with a smirk. He bent down onto one knee and put his hand on Tim's little shoulder. The little boy's posture stiffened when Dave did this.

Dave?: “That you did. And if you continue to keep our little secret, I’ll keep up my end of the bargain.”

Tim: “Y-Y-You said you w-won’t hurt us.”

Dave?: “That was part of the deal.” He then got a little closer to Tim, causing the boy to close his eyes. “Why so scared? I can assure you that I’ll be a better father than your last one,” he said with a smile.

Tim made a nervous gulping sound and looked absolutely mortified.

Tim: “C-C-Can I-I-I go?” he begged.

Dave?: “Of course,” he said as he let go of Tim.

Once Tim was free of Dave’s grip he ran off to his room, like an animal fleeing from a predator. Dave continued to smile as he just watched as the boy ran off. In the hallway, absent from anyone else, Dave stood there. There was a brief flash of orange light in his eyes.

Dave?: “Guess I have to go and figure out how to be a baker now.” he said to himself.

The “person” who people now called Dave proceeded to head downstairs. He would spend the rest of the day running the bakery, figuring out how to do so as he went.