Chapter 3: Poison in the House

His hands shook as he closed the door behind him. He looked at me, then at the floor, as if struggling to find the right words.

At that moment, my mother-in-law and Caleb also came out of their rooms. We all just stared at each other.

They appeared in the hallway, faces drawn and anxious. Caleb’s shirt was buttoned wrong, and my mother-in-law’s hair was wild. We all stood there, waiting for Tyler to speak.

Tyler looked at us and said, “Last night, Billy Watkins died—the same way as Dad. His family even said... they said...” I braced myself.

His voice cracked. He swallowed hard, eyes darting between us. The tension in the room was so thick you could cut it with a knife.

“Said what? Just spit it out!” my mother-in-law snapped, seeing Tyler’s frightened, hesitant face. She was scared, too.

Her tone was sharp, but her hands shook. She clutched her robe tighter, eyes wide with fear. Caleb put a hand on her shoulder, steadying her.

“They said... last night, Billy heard a baby crying and laughing, so he went out to check, and never came back...”

Tyler’s words trailed off, and for a moment, no one breathed. The story was spreading, growing with each telling. The whole town was buzzing.

Aunt Lisa’s prayers and crosses seemed to work; since last night, nothing had happened to our family. But now the misfortune had moved on to others in town. We were poison now.

People whispered that the curse was like a wildfire—once it burned through one house, it jumped to the next. The Brooks family was shunned, doors locked tight whenever we passed by. It felt like the whole town was holding its breath, waiting for the storm to pass.

Our family was completely shunned. The Brooks name was poison now, and there was no escaping it. We were outcasts.

Billy’s mother and wife brought a crowd to our door, throwing rotten produce and smashing eggs. We could only stay inside, saying nothing. It smelled for days.

The thuds of tomatoes and eggs against the siding echoed through the house. The smell lingered for days, sour and humiliating. Tyler wanted to shout back, but I held his arm. There was nothing to say that anyone would believe.

By evening, the shouting died down. Tyler decided to sneak over the fence to ask Aunt Lisa for advice. The house felt empty.

He pulled on his old varsity jacket, ducked out the back door, and disappeared into the twilight. I watched him go, heart in my throat, hoping he’d come back safe.

I told Tyler to return the leftover Bible verses and reminded him to stick to the main road and be careful. I was scared for him.

I pressed the packet of verses into his hand, whispering, "Stay in the light. Don’t let anyone see you." He nodded, lips pressed tight, and slipped out into the night, a shadow among shadows.

After Tyler left, my mother-in-law and I sat by the caskets of my sister-in-law and Frank, weeping. Caleb was just as broken, but as the eldest, he had to hold it together. He tried, anyway.

The kitchen was quiet except for the clink of the bottle against the counter. It was too quiet.

That night, coming back from the bathroom, I saw Tyler climbing back over the fence. I waited for him.

He moved quietly, landing in the yard with a soft thud. I waited by the back door, arms crossed, anxiety prickling at my skin. The moon hung low, casting long shadows across the grass.

“Why were you gone so long? Mom and Caleb are asleep. I’ve been waiting for you. How did it go?” I helped Tyler take off his jacket and poured him some hot water. He barely looked at me.

He looked exhausted, eyes hollow. His hands shook as he took the mug, sipping the water slowly. I sat beside him, my knee brushing his, hoping for some reassurance.

“Don’t even ask. Aunt Lisa did another prayer for us, burned candles, busy until late. She still says the demon baby’s anger is too strong, can’t be stopped.” He looked hopeless.

He rubbed his temples, frustration etched into every line of his face. I could see the hopelessness settling in, the weight of grief and fear pressing down on him.

“Then what should we do?” I was scared, too.

My voice was barely more than a whisper. I reached for his hand, squeezing it tight, searching his face for hope.

“She said we should stay inside. Before my sister-in-law’s seventh day, someone will die every day.” I shivered.

The words sent a chill through me. I glanced at the caskets in the living room, dread coiling in my stomach. Tyler stared at the floor, jaw clenched.

“But by town custom, on the fifth day we have to bury my sister-in-law and Dad, so we have to go out.” We both knew it.

I said it softly, but the truth hung heavy between us. Tyler ran a hand through his hair, frustration boiling over. He didn’t answer, just stared at the wall, lost in thought.

Tyler knew I was right, ran a hand through his hair in frustration, and said nothing. He didn’t look at me.

He let out a long sigh, shoulders slumping. The silence stretched between us, filled only by the ticking of the kitchen clock.

Suddenly, frantic knocking startled both of us. My heart jumped.

The sound was sharp, desperate. I jumped, nearly dropping my mug. Tyler was on his feet in an instant, rushing to the door. My heart pounded in my chest, fear prickling along my skin.

“Tyler, is that you? Tyler, open the door! Open up!” It was my mother-in-law, crying. She was terrified.

Her voice was shrill, panic-stricken. Tyler fumbled with the lock, yanking the door open. She stumbled inside, tears streaming down her face, clutching her nightgown tight.

We quickly opened the door, and she rushed in, tears streaming down her face. She grabbed Tyler’s arm like she was drowning.

“What’s wrong, Mom?” Tyler asked, worried. He tried to be calm.

His voice was gentle, but I could see the fear in his eyes. He pulled her into the kitchen, guiding her to a chair. I fetched a glass of water, pressing it into her trembling hands.

“I... I just heard the baby crying, the demon baby is back! Next is me, it must be me, am I going to die too?” She grabbed Tyler’s arm, her face streaked with tears and panic.

She rocked back and forth, sobbing. We couldn’t calm her down.

“Mom, calm down. When did you hear the sound?” Tyler was shaking, too.

He knelt in front of her, voice low and steady. He was shaking, too.