Jerks. Creeps. Idiots.

Forget about them, he thought. Why let a pair of bullies ruin his evening? His homework was done, he didn't have to work at the grocery store tonight, it wasn't raining, the weather hadn't turned cold yet, and he had the entire forest at his disposal. Screw 'em. He was going to enjoy himself.

He walked for a while, but it didn't make him feel any better, so he picked up his pace to a jog. He kept his eyes on the ground so that he wouldn't trip-the forest wasn't exactly the safest jogging environment, and Toby had extreme tendencies toward being a klutz.

He was only able to jog for a few minutes before he got a stitch in his side, so he rested for a moment until the pain faded, then resumed his jog. Boy, was he in terrible shape. This was embarrassing. He hoped the woodland creatures weren't laughing at him.

There had to be a way to get back at the bullies without risking a broken nose. What if he bought them each a "Thank You" card for the toilet incident? That would really mess with their minds. It could be a really colorful card, maybe with a piece of chocolate inside, presented to them with no trace of irony. Something like that might really fuel their sense of paranoia. They'd wonder exactly what he had planned for them. Their stomachs would hurt whenever they saw him. It would be glorious!

"What does this mean?" Larry would ask, reading the card for the seventy-third time. "Has he gone deranged? Or does he have a ghastly fate in store for us?"

"I don't know!" Nick would answer. "But the suspense may drive me mad!"

Toby felt a little better as he ran.

His dad always got home at 7:15 sharp, which gave him another two hours to goof around in the woods. Maybe he'd see how far he could get in an hour. He spent a lot of time in the woods and knew the few square miles behind his house well, but it was a vast forest that offered new discoveries all the time. Mostly just different trees, but still...

He moved through the woods for about half an hour, alternating between jogging, walking fast, and a couple of brief bursts of sprinting. He should probably join track at school. Might make him some friends. Or one friend.

He stopped running.

Something was lying on the ground in front of a small clearing. Toby walked over to investigate. It was a wooden sign, lying on its side, mostly covered by bushes. The red lettering had faded to almost the same gray color as the wood, but the words were still legible: DANGER. KEEP OUT.

Wow.

A couple of years ago, Toby had discovered an old rusted car, right there amid the trees. It had looked like something from the 1930s. He'd spent long nights wondering how it got there. Rationally, he knew that the answer was straightforward, that there had probably just been a path at one time that had since been abandoned and overgrown. But there were dozens of much more interesting scenarios, and they'd captured his imagination until a few weeks later when he found the deer carcass. He'd searched the vehicle thoroughly, but alas, there was no hidden stash of mobster cash.

DANGER. KEEP OUT. promised something even more exciting.

What could it be? An abandoned mine? An old bunker filled with explosives?

Toby slowly stepped through the clearing, which was a circle about fifty feet in diameter, watching his feet to make sure he didn't walk in a bear trap or something like that. The clearing itself seemed to be devoid of anything interesting. He walked around the perimeter, then walked across it several times, but didn't see anything that looked even remotely worthy of the sign.

They wouldn't put out a sign like that for no reason. There had to be something. something. Maybe it was the former site of a horrible plague. Maybe it was the former site of a horrible plague.

No, even in ancient times, people probably took stronger precautions against the spread of a plague than simply putting out a wooden sign.

He kept searching the area, but there was nothing. What a rip-off.

What if the sign had been moved? He just needed to keep searching. He continued to walk around the area, not going quite so far as to crawl around on his hands and knees, but making sure he was searching thoroughly. If there were something great out here, he was going to find it.

About five minutes beyond the sign, he found a path. A narrow uphill path that looked recently used.

Well, maybe not. There weren't any distinct footprints or broken branches or anything specific to indicate that somebody might have recently taken a stroll around here. Still, Toby had a weird feeling, something he couldn't quite pinpoint, that he wasn't the only person to have used this path today.

This meant that, as a rational, intelligent human being, his best bet was to get the hell out of there as soon as possible.

Instead, he stepped onto the path and followed it.

CHAPTER THREE.

The path ended at the entrance to a cave. A cave! Toby knew there were caves out in this forest somewhere, but there weren't supposed to be any within walking distance of his house. How could something like this have eluded him all this time? He could've been hanging out in a cave for years!

There were some rusted metal hinges-almost worn down to dust-on the left side of the cave entrance, but the door itself was long gone. There was, however, a large pile of brush in front of it. Had the wind blown it there, or had somebody put it there? It wasn't a very good camouflage. Must've been put there by Mother Nature. The cave door wasn't a perfect rectangle, but it was obviously man-made, or at least an enhancement of a natural entrance.

Toby pushed the brush out of the way and peered inside. Totally dark.

He removed his backpack, reached inside, and dug around until he found the small penlight he used for reading. He turned it on and shone it inside the entrance. It didn't help much, but at least it might keep him from walking into an open pit and plummeting 800 feet to his death.

He replaced his backpack and stepped through the entrance. He immediately recoiled-it smelled awful awful in here. Not like something had died, but like something had failed to empty about six months' worth of garbage. Noxious. He took one more step forward and shone the light around. in here. Not like something had died, but like something had failed to empty about six months' worth of garbage. Noxious. He took one more step forward and shone the light around.

The rock ceiling was low enough that he could scrape against it with the tips of his fingers if he reached up. The cave was extremely narrow, not quite claustrophobic, but he wouldn't be able to lie sideways on the floor. He couldn't see the far end, so he continued walking forward, very slowly and carefully.

He bet that Larry, Nick, and Frank wouldn't have the courage to walk into an unexplored cave like this. Those babies would be standing at the entrance, whining, "There might be bats inside! There might be bats inside!" Losers.

A few more steps in, his light washed against the far wall. More rock. Nothing particularly interesting about it. Toby ran the beam of his flashlight around the perimeter, and there was...nothing.

So this was it? One small room?

Toby turned in a slow circle, shining his flashlight all over the cave, and it really did seem to be a single room, maybe twice the length of one of his classrooms. Not that impressive. Still, he wondered what its purpose was. Obviously, somebody had used it for something, or there wouldn't be hinges and the sign. It could have been the start of a mine. Maybe the owner was a bumbling incompetent and after bringing all of the equipment out here and digging for a couple of days he'd realized that there were no minerals to mine. He'd sheepishly sent everybody home, put up the sign, and declared bankruptcy.

Or, the workers had been attacked by rats. Giant rats. Well, not giant giant rats-not fifty-footers, but rats twice the size of normal ones, with glistening greasy fur and glowing red eyes and pus leaking from their ears. As the workers drilled, a section of the wall collapsed and thousands of them swarmed out. The three closest men were consumed immediately, their shrieking forms reduced to skeletons within seconds, like a cow falling into piranhainfested water. The others had panicked and opened fire, killing one rat for every fifty that latched onto their flesh. The owner made it to his automobile just in time and sped off, running over his assistant in his haste to drive out of the area. He'd abandoned the mine idea and concocted an elaborate story to keep himself out of prison. rats-not fifty-footers, but rats twice the size of normal ones, with glistening greasy fur and glowing red eyes and pus leaking from their ears. As the workers drilled, a section of the wall collapsed and thousands of them swarmed out. The three closest men were consumed immediately, their shrieking forms reduced to skeletons within seconds, like a cow falling into piranhainfested water. The others had panicked and opened fire, killing one rat for every fifty that latched onto their flesh. The owner made it to his automobile just in time and sped off, running over his assistant in his haste to drive out of the area. He'd abandoned the mine idea and concocted an elaborate story to keep himself out of prison.

Yeah.

Toby did another circle with the flashlight. Kind of disappointing, but still, he'd found a cave! There might be other caves nearby. An entire system of caves. He could get a girlfriend for sure if he knew his way around a local cave. They were dark, slightly spooky, romantic...

Something bellowed.

The sound, which came from inside the cave, startled Toby so badly that he dropped the flashlight.

Another bellow. It sounded like God himself were shouting from the cave walls.

Toby raced for the exit-or tried to. His foot came down on the flashlight, slipped out from under him and twisted with a painful crack crack, and he fell to the ground.

He scrambled on his hands and knees toward the exit, hurting his foot even worse but not caring, terrified that the entire cave was going to collapse and splatter him under tons of rock and dirt.

Toby made it outside without the cave ceiling splattering him. Now the only noise was his own frantic breathing. What on earth had it been? What made a noise like that? It wasn't his imagination, and it was unlikely to have actually been God, so what was it?

The question was answered quite satisfactorily when the monster emerged from the cave.

Toby hadn't believed that there was such a thing as truly paralyzing fear. Sure, you could be held immobile by bullies, and you could be frozen in place when your father came at you with his belt just because you knew that running away would result in worse punishment, but Toby had never imagined being literally too frightened to move. His muscles ached with the effort to move them, yet he couldn't budge. He just knelt on the ground, staring at the horrific sight before him.

He remembered it. Very well.

It was covered with thick brown hair, except for some bare patches on its arms and legs. It stood upright, like a human, though its arms and legs were slightly twisted, as if they'd been broken and not healed quite properly. Its claws-good God, its claws were huge, curved white razors at least three inches long on each finger. Its yellow eyes were set deep inside of its face.

Its jaws were a complete horror show, with teeth that were almost cartoonishly large and sharp.

He'd remembered the monster as being bigger, although of course back then he'd been smaller. It was still an imposing, terrifying creature. One that clearly had every intention of devouring Toby, chewing off his face while he lay paralyzed on the ground. Not even chewing-biting it clean off in one chomp.

The monster regarded him closely. It narrowed its sunken eyes as if studying him. Wondering which body part to bite into first.

It walked forward. Toby noted that its toes also had talons, though not nearly as lengthy or sharp as those on its fingers. It still looked like it could rip off a few big strips of flesh just by stepping on him.

Though Toby's body remained frozen, suddenly his voice worked, and he let out a long, loud scream.

The monster flinched as if he'd struck it.

Toby screamed again.

The monster stood there, motionless, staring at him.

Toby could feel perspiration pouring down his forehead, his arms, and the back of his neck. He still couldn't get up, but his hands were quivering. He just waited, knowing that at any moment the monster was going to let out another bellow-a war cry-and lunge at him like a cougar.

He desperately wished he had a weapon.

There was a rock near his right hand, but he couldn't move to grab it.

The monster continued to stare at him. It seemed alert, as if waiting for Toby to make a sudden move.

Do something! Toby willed himself. Don't just lie here. Get up and run! Don't just lie here. Get up and run!

Getting eaten by a forest monster was, admittedly, a pretty cool way to die...but not if he just lay there and let it happen!

Grab the rock! Grab the rock! It's right here, you idiot!

His body clearly wasn't going to help him out of this situation.

The monster crouched down. It was less than five feet away.

Toby wanted to scream again until his lungs were shredded, but instead he heard himself say: "Hi."

Hi? What the hell?

The monster didn't react. Which made sense-wild carnivorous animals typically did not respond to friendly greetings.

Then it tilted its head a bit, as if intrigued.

"Hi," Toby repeated. "I'm Toby Floren and I'm sorry I went into your cave. I didn't know you were in there. You must have a secret passage or something."

Why was he talking to it? What did he expect it to say back?

Of course, you'd talk to an angry dog to soothe it, so...

"What's your name?" he asked.

The monster, of course, did not answer.

"My name's Toby Floren." Yeah, he'd already said that, but his actual words didn't matter as long as he kept up the calming tone. "I live about four miles from here. It's that white house with the blue shutters. I'm not sure if you've seen it. I hope you haven't. The last book I read was Robinson Crusoe Robinson Crusoe."

He hadn't been eaten yet, so this seemed to be working.

The monster ran its thick black tongue over its teeth.

Toby stopped talking.

This was it. Death at age fifteen. Dying a virgin. His greatest accomplishment in life was providing entertainment for bullies.

But at least he wasn't crying.

Not that anybody was around to see if he was crying or not. He might as well cry.

Then the monster slowly stood up, not taking its eyes off him. Toby would have expected his body to run out of perspiration by now, but his clothes were completely drenched and sweat continued to flow.

Toby wasn't sure if his muscles were working now or not. He didn't dare to move.

The monster clenched and unclenched its fists, then cocked its head sharply to the left. The message seemed clear: Get out of here. Get out of here.

It was a message that Toby was more than happy to obey. He got up, careful not to make any sudden moves, and backed away. There was a jolt of pain as he stepped with his injured foot-he'd probably sprained his ankle-but he could still walk and he continued to back away, step by step, following the path. The monster stood there, watching him until he went around a curve and the trees blocked their view of each other.

He wanted to run after that, but he couldn't risk screwing up his foot even more, especially if he took a downhill tumble. He'd just stick to a quick but safe pace, and hope that the monster didn't change its mind about its dinner plans and chase after him. It might just be toying with him, letting him get far enough ahead that he thought he'd escaped, at which point it would pounce upon him and gobble his ass up. He would be very happy for that not to be the case.

What was that thing? Why would it even need teeth like that, except to scare the hell out of people? How could it even close its mouth around them?

Was it the same one he'd seen all those years ago? It couldn't be, could it? How had it lived out here this long without being discovered?

He looked back. Nothing seemed to be coming after him.

As Toby walked home, he decided not to tell his parents about what happened. They might believe him, or they might search his room for pot. Either way, they wouldn't allow him to go back out there, and Toby had every intention of returning. Unless he'd missed a really really important day of science class, this was some sort of undiscovered creature, and Toby was going to get credit for the finding. He couldn't go back after dark, but if his foot wasn't in too bad of shape he'd go back this weekend, this time with a camera. important day of science class, this was some sort of undiscovered creature, and Toby was going to get credit for the finding. He couldn't go back after dark, but if his foot wasn't in too bad of shape he'd go back this weekend, this time with a camera.

And Dad's shotgun.

CHAPTER FOUR.

Toby spent most of his evening in the waiting area of the emergency room. His ankle was indeed sprained, though just mildly, and he kept an ice pack against it, which was more uncomfortable than the pain from the injury.