Page 74 of Spooks & Specters

She was just the hired help, and he wasn’t being condescending when he said that. She was his family’s employee. One tiny step out of line and his grandparents would fire her in a heartbeat. He didn’t want to cost one of his favorite people her job. But more than that, he couldn’t lose her. She was one of the few people in this house who had ever shown him a shred of compassion.

Well, there was one other, but the monster under his bed was unpredictable. Austin had seen firsthand what could happen when his monster got pissed off. But Austin was also quickly getting to the point that he didn’t care what his monster did. He was tired of being bullied and everybody with any authority ignoring it because Austin’s dad was a crackpot.

Yes, that was just one of the more pleasant words his father had been called.

“Thanks, Ms. Kinnon, but I’m really okay.”

She studied him for a few more seconds before nodding slowly. “All right, dear, but remember my offer stands anytime. It really helps talking about it sometimes.”

Austin watched her go before finally standing up himself. The weight on his shoulders felt heavier than ever. Disgusted with everything, he left the garden and went to enter the house. Taking a deep breath, he stepped into the eerie silence of the grand foyer. The house was always quiet, too quiet. His footsteps echoed off the marble floors as he made his way to his room.

His ascent up the staircase was slow. The mansion felt more like a mausoleum than a home. It was cold and sterile, just like his grandparents. Just like his parents.

That absolutely was not going to be Austin.

Paintings of stern ancestors gazed down at him, their eyes following his every move. He could almost see their disappointment. Well, fuck them too. His life wasn’t going to be dictated by their rigid rules. Austin was determined of that.

He knew… things. Things that went bump in the night. And he had plans. Oh yes, he had plans for his life, but unfortunately, he didn’t come into his inheritance until he was twenty-five.

God, that seemed like a long way off.

He paused at his bedroom door, hand resting on the cool metal of the handle for a moment. Once inside, he closed the door with a soft click that seemed to echo through the silent house. He leaned against it, allowing himself a moment to just breathe.

The space was tidy to an almost obsessive degree—every book aligned perfectly on the shelves, every piece of clothing folded meticulously in the drawers. His grandparents insisted on that, but for crying out loud, he was a teenager. What teenager had a tidy bedroom? Well, he did. It was a stark contrast to the chaos that brewed within him.

He threw himself onto his bed and stared at the ceiling. His mind raced with thoughts of Travis, the bullying, his dad’s madness… and the monster. The monster that no one else knew about—no one but him. It all felt like too much to bear alone.

As darkness fell outside, Austin’s room grew dim. He didn’t bother to turn on the light. Instead, he let the shadows encroach around him, feeling almost comforted by their familiar embrace. Was it odd that he wasn’t afraid of the darkness? Probably, but that was okay too.

It was in this gloom that he often felt less alone, felt that perhaps the monster under his bed was not just a figment of his imagination or a manifestation of his fears. In fact, he knew that it was not. He had a very clear memory of what happened when he was eight years old.

The sound of footsteps approached outside his door—soft but distinct—and he instantly sat up. The door opened and there stood Elizabeth Hathaway Berkshire—his grandmother. Her presence filled the doorway. Her tall frame was adorned in an elegant silk dress that whispered prestige and cold authority.

“Austin,” she began, her voice dry like dead leaves. “I heard about today’s... altercation at school.”

Austin tensed. News traveled fast in their circles, but this was just ridiculous.

“I trust you didn’t embarrass us?”

“No,” Austin replied evenly, masking the turmoil inside with the practiced aloofness they had taught him, because of course that was her first worry—that he had embarrassed them. Not that he was hurt. He wasn’t, except for his pride.

But Travis was getting worse.

“Good.” There was a pause as she scrutinized him—her sharp blue eyes missing nothing. “Remember who you are, Austin. You are a Berkshire. You do not let petty squabbles pull you down.”

Without waiting for a response, she turned and left as abruptly as she had arrived. Her words hung heavily in the air—an expectation set too high, a bar he could never reach.

Left alone once more, Austin felt an ironic smile tug at his lips. Everyone wanted something from him—compliance, strength, silence—but nobody asked whathewanted.

He wanted freedom, and he wanted to meet his monster.

His phone buzzed in his pocket, breaking through his spiraling thoughts. It was a text message from a classmate who was sort of, kind of a friend who was also on the team.

Hey, Austin, noticed you sprinted off after practice. Everything okay?

He stared at the screen for a long time before typing back a genericYeah. I’m fine. He didn’t really hurt me. I’m just tired.

Tired. He didn’t know if tired truly explained what he was. Exhausted, maybe. Fed up?

---