The Legend of Camp Jellywitch Part II

  The Jellywitch wasn’t real. Faust could tell because his dad didn’t believe the story when he told it. His dad had a great imagination and all, but he could only lie about important things, like when someone’s life was in danger or you asked him if he missed their other dad and he had to pretend to be okay.

  This was different.

  This was his dad trying to keep everything fun, and Faust wanted to help. If they went jellyfishing, that would be fun, right? 

  They had dispersed around the lake, exploring and clambering over rocks in an effort to be the first to find some jellyfish, but none had appeared. The sun had set hours ago, so the lake was inky black and dark. In the water, Faust could feel thousands of friends — fish, sun-seeking plants, insects — all going about their lives. The ones nearer the shore, especially the photophilic ones, were curious about the activity and light. None posed a threat.

  From the depths of the water, a misshapen and flailing silhouette emerged, with a lopsided but pointed top and a shiny hat rim decorated with jellyfish. The figure began to moan in Blue’s voice. “Helppppp. Hellllllppp.” It staggered forward, arms outstretched, unsteady in the water.

  “Blue!” Faust groaned. She’d found some jellyfish! “Don’t hurt the little friends.”

  “Faust!” Blue groaned right back. “How did you know?” She stooped and set the witch hat in the water, slowly scooping each of the jellyfish off the brim and back into the welcome waters of the lake. 

  “I can read your mind,” Faust reminded her, even though it was a bit of a stretch. He could read her mind, but that wasn’t how he knew: He knew, because the jellywitch wasn’t real.

  “Did I at least scare you a tiny bit?” Blue asked.

  Fun. It was supposed to be fun. He grinned. “Maybe a tiny bit.” For the jellyfishes’ safety, anyway. He reached over and messed up her hair, and then set a jellyfish on top of it. “This would be better. Then you look like you have seaweed coming off your face, in the dark. You look less like you.”

  “Good.” She posed as the jellywitch, hat forgotten, her silhouette only slightly less dark than the vast lake behind her.

  From that lake, while she stood facing Faust, an oozing mass emerged. It was blob-shaped, hulking and dripping all sorts of grossness. Nearby fish swam away in terror. The creature swallowed the night.

  Faust must have made a face about it, because Blue turned slowly to face it and squeaked. Somehow, without a shred of communication, she and Faust did a simultaneous and panicked dance away from the shore, scurrying in a cavalcade of terrible sounds — both from themselves and from the thing in the lake.

  “My haaaaaaat,” moaned the jellywitch. “I waaaaant my haaaat.”

  Faust grabbed the witch hat. It was Blue’s, and the jellyfish hadn’t even liked it when they were on it. He wasn’t letting the hat go live in the lake.

  He stood, too stupefied to move, hat clutched to his chest, and watched the jellywitch in its agonizing approach. In a matter of seconds, it was close enough that it could touch him.

  It was okay. Faust was ready to die. It wasn’t as bad as being the one who didn’t die, the way his dad was. He would rather die than outlive, any day.

  He stood his ground and looked death straight in the eye.

  It reached out an oozy appendage and poked Faust right in the chest.

  He flung his body out of the water, escaping the jellywitch with an awful wrenching sound that came from his own throat. Somehow, he managed to gargle the words, “Give it to him!” as he passed Blue on the lake shore.

  Sloshing sounds behind him alerted him to the fact that the jellywitch was chasing him. Blue screeched a noise loud enough to send fish halfway across the lake darting for cover and Faust…

  …well, he tripped. Onto the silty lake shore sand, landing with an oomf on his hands and chest. The jellywitch landed on top of him, soaking his clothing in clammy, weedy mud. He didn’t even have enough breath to manage any last words — only enough to realize Blue would probably die too, and he’d never even explored the whole rift valley yet, and nobody should die this young and afraid.

  On top of him, the jellywitch started laughing.

  The laugh was familiar.

  Faust rolled over in a burst of adrenaline, pinning the jellywitch beneath him.

  From under the mud and weeds, Faust’s brother Prospero grinned back at him, laughing as he said, “Happy Halloween!”