"Please come back," he whispered hoarsely. "Please help her."

But the man never appeared.

Finally, Eugene turned and stumbled back up the hill, his fists clenched tight as he returned to the church. If the man wouldn't save Mary Beth, he would. There was no hesitation as he tore through the back rooms, swallowing blood as he bit the inside of his mouth.

But the room was empty. The boxes of sacramental wine stood stacked in the back corner. There was no sign that anyone had been there mere moments ago. How long had he spent screaming into the green of the bayou, begging for the man to hear him?

Eugene stood in the doorway until his heartbeat slowed and the adrenaline cooled in his veins. He kept expecting to blink and have that scene reappear before him, Father Latimer looming over Mary Beth, her dress bunched up between his grasping fingers— But there was nothing. Finally, hollowed out and empty, Eugene turned and walked out of the church.

* * *

He dreamed he was still at the edge of the bayou, straining to see past the fog. Everything was still and silent all around him. No birds sang, no frogs chirped, no insects wailed. When he tried to turn away from the trees, his feet sank into the wet grass, mud grasping his shoes and keeping him fixed in place. Panic mounted as he tried to free himself, twisting and flailing against the strength of the earth. He needed to get back to the church. Mary Beth was still there, and if he didn't reach her in time, the priest was going to do something awful. He didn't want it to happen, he didn't want to see it—

Something moved in the bayou.

Slowly, Eugene stopped fighting, his arms dropping down by his sides as he watched the monster emerge from the fog. One prehistoric scale at a time it walked out, cumbersome on land, its claws digging deep with every step. It was black as pitch, its scales absorbing the scant moonlight that only glinted off its jutting, pearlescent teeth, and the calculating golden glow of its eyes. It was the biggest gator Eugene had ever seen, stretching all the way back into the water, its tail cutting through the algae like a razorblade as its snout pointed towards him and the church. Those jaws were big enough to cut him in half with a single snap, and those teeth—

The gator stared up at him, an awful intelligence in those coin-like eyes, its jaws parted to reveal a jagged line of teeth like it was about to speak. The trees groaned a warning as the clouds rolled overhead.

Eugene woke with blood in his mouth, his pillow soaked red from a nosebleed. When he tried to suck in a breath to steady himself, his lungs fluttered weakly like moth wings. He couldn't get enough air, and his gasps turned to wheezing as he struggled, hands grasping uselessly at his bloodstained pillow. I'm going to die like this, he thought wildly, his brain flooding with panic as his vision went black around the edges. He needed to get back to the bayou. He needed to find Mary Beth. Instead, everything went dark, and he lost consciousness with his air locked out of his chest as his mother came rushing into his room, frantically demanding that he breathe.