Doctor Callahan

June 15

Little Tommy was strolling around the neighborhood. In his shorts and T-shirt, he felt comfortable. He was heading to the sandbox when he suddenly heard someone calling him from behind. The boy turned around. Before him stood a middle-aged man in glasses with a pensive face. His coat was stained, his shoes cracked. A strange smell came from him, yet something in his expression seemed kind.

— Hey, boy, where are you going? — the stranger asked politely.

— I’m going to play in the sandbox, my friends are waiting for me there — answered the boy.

— Hey, that’s a nice little truck you’ve got. Do you like trucks? — the stranger came closer.

— Yeah, I got it for my birthday — the boy said proudly, looking at his toy.

— You know, my son also likes toy cars. Want to come over to my place? — the man adjusted his glasses and peered at the boy.

— I’m in a hurry, sir, my friends are waiting — the man suddenly held out a candy. The boy’s mood instantly brightened.

— It’s not far from here. You know, my son didn’t like one of his trucks. Want me to give it to you? — the stranger said with a smile.

— Yes! Let’s go, but quick, I want to be on time! — the boy squealed with joy.

— What’s your name, son?

— Call me Doctor Callahan — said the man quickly.

Tommy and the man walked away in a direction unfamiliar to the boy. The whole way, Tommy was daydreaming about his new toy truck.

That day, he never showed up at the sandbox.

He disappeared for two weeks.

June 29

— Nancy! Wrap it up already! — shouted the manager. He had a habit of rushing his employees, and no one liked him much.

— Yeah, one second — the girl answered calmly. She began gathering the dishes. At one table sat an elderly man with a bald spot. He stared at her for a long time, like a predator watching prey — or so Nancy thought. She took the dishes to the kitchen, sighed with relief, and headed for the exit. She still felt that heavy gaze on her back.

Nancy Millstone was on her way home. The sky looked like a painting — a crescent moon and stars above. She had barely passed her university exams and now worked part-time as a waitress at Heavenly Azure restaurant. Her legs ached after a long shift. Darkness surrounded her, broken only by the glow of streetlamps guiding her path. Nancy wasn’t usually fearful, but her sixth sense whispered that someone was following her. She turned — no one. Maybe someone hiding in the shadows? She quickened her pace, hearing faint rustles. Her pulse raced; her breath shortened. Suddenly she felt a tug at the edge of her dress. Panic surged — she sprinted through the park, her tired legs screaming in pain.

— The supermarket’s close… just get there — she told herself.

— Hey, Nancy! What are you running for? — a young police officer stopped her.

— Nolan! Someone was following me! — she pointed with a trembling hand. Seeing a familiar face, she finally exhaled.

Nolan squinted into the darkness, gripping his baton.

— Oh, that’s Mr. Bennet! — he relaxed, smirking.

Out of the shadows emerged the same old man from the restaurant. He slowly approached the officer. Nancy tensed.

— What?! So what if it’s him? He was chasing me! Nolan, take him to the station! — she stomped her foot.

— Mr. Bennet, were you following this girl? — asked Nolan.

— Yes, but I just wanted to give her a tip. She was so kind — the old man put on an apologetic face.

Nancy didn’t buy it. His wrinkled hand offered her some bills.

— No, keep them. And why did you pull on my dress?

The old man looked offended.

— Miss, I called out to you, but you didn’t respond. I just touched your dress to get your attention, that’s all…

— I don’t remember that.

Nolan took Nancy aside and whispered:

— Mr. Bennet used to tutor me. He couldn’t hurt a fly. Take the money and apologize. I’m sorry, Nancy — his voice mixed reproach and sympathy.

— Unbelievable — she muttered, took the bills, and turned to Bennet.

— I often visit your restaurant. The chicken there is exquisite — he said like a food critic.

— Listen, I’m sorry, but please don’t touch me. I’m just shaken.

— I understand. Here, take my book — I’m a writer. Very educational — Bennet held out a small book.

Nancy turned away, shaking her head. The book didn’t look strange, yet something about it felt wrong.

— Let me see that, Mr. Bennet — Nolan took the book, inspecting the plain cover.

— Son, read carefully, don’t skip a word. Every page is worth its weight in gold — the old man patted Nolan’s shoulder and left.

— I don’t think he’s as harmless as you say — Nancy murmured.

— Be careful. You heard about the missing boy, Tommy? We searched the whole town — nothing. Strange things keep happening — Nolan’s face grew serious. — Here’s my number. Keep your phone on you and call me if anything happens. We’re friends, right? — he handed her a small paper slip.

— Thanks… at least for that — Nancy smiled faintly.

Nolan patted her shoulder, and they parted ways. His kindness reassured her a bit, but she still kept glancing back on the way home. Reaching her house, she went to the fridge. Bread, cheese, cans of cola, some preserves — not much. Grabbing a couple of cans, she collapsed on the couch, replaying the night’s events. If something else happened, she’d definitely call Nolan.

Then, from upstairs, came the sound of shattering glass. Setting the can down, she rushed up the stairs. The noise came from her bedroom. On the carpet lay a large stone. Nancy peeked out the window — a silhouette flickered among the trees.

— I forgot to close the kitchen window! — flashed through her mind.

She dashed downstairs, locked the window, and sighed with relief. Picking up the phone, she dialed Nolan. Rings — then voicemail: “This is Nolan. I can’t answer right now. Leave a message.”

— Nolan, someone’s trying to break into my house! Hurry! — she shouted.

Then she dialed another number.

— Please, don’t be playing your stupid games right now — she whispered hopefully.

— Hello? Nancy! I’m on my way! — came a young man’s voice.

It was Ethan — she’d met him a couple of months ago at university. They complemented each other perfectly: Nancy — energetic and impulsive, Ethan — lazy but kind and dependable. They had a deep connection. Right now, his help was everything.

Whispering came from outside the window. Nancy moved closer but didn’t dare pull back the curtain.

— No, I don’t want to… — moaned a voice.

— You don’t get to decide, doctor. You’ve already failed — the same voice, but darker, more bestial.

— I’m tired, God give me strength — a fist slammed against the glass.

— I don’t want to do this anymore, NO, I DON’T! — a scream rang out.

Nancy froze. Her breath stopped. Her senses sharpened to the extreme. This night she’d never forget.

The whispering ceased. Then a familiar voice spoke from behind the door:

— Honey, let me in.

— Ethan! He could get hurt by that psycho… — she thought.

— Come on, sweetheart, open up. Let’s take my car — came the voice again.

— Wait a second, Ethan doesn’t have a car — he rides a bike! — Nancy’s mind raced. She switched on the porch light and looked through the peephole — and froze.

Outside stood something only vaguely human. Crimson eyes without pupils. Arms too long, reaching past its knees. Torn clothing. One hand bore claws, the other a glove stained with dried blood. Its legs were thick and powerful. Its eyes squinted against the light. It spoke in Ethan’s voice — but it wasn’t him.

— You can’t run from this — Nancy thought. The red eyes locked on the peephole. The creature slashed the door, and Nancy barely jumped back in time. A cut opened on her cheek.

A roar shook the house. Then silence — the creature fled, likely fearing awakened neighbors. Nancy sank to the floor, fighting tears.

— Ethan, where are you… I need you — came a knock at the door.

She got up. Outside stood a tall young man with smooth features, chestnut hair, green eyes, and freckles — Ethan. Thin, long-legged, always half asleep in lectures, but loyal to Nancy.

She threw herself into his arms. Warmth spread through her body. Their eyes met.

— Tell me everything — he said softly.

Nancy recounted the night — the chase, the old man, the monster, everything. Ethan listened intently, his face grave.

— Do you believe me, Ethan? — she asked hopefully.

— It’s worth investigating. Want to go to the police station? — he suggested.

— I get it, but I want to find the truth myself. You heard about that kid? They found nothing! — her voice was resolute.

— We’ll both be in danger. But I’ll feel calm if I’m with you — he straightened.

— Thanks, Ethan — she hugged him again.

— You said there were tracks by your house. Should we check them?

— Let’s do it. Bring flashlights and water. I’ve got pepper spray and a knife — Ethan said, mounting his bike.

— This could end badly — he thought.

Nancy packed her gear, locked the door, and felt the weight of what was coming. What awaited them? Tommy? Something worse? They had to find the truth. Ethan started pedaling; Nancy followed.

Goosebumps ran over their skin — few would dare such an adventure. The tracks near the city were chaotic, but in the forest, they grew clearer. No animals stirred — a small comfort. The bike lights barely pierced the darkness, and the thought of an ambush gnawed at them.

Near a spruce tree, they found torn fabric. Nancy pocketed a piece — it might help later. Their unease doubled when they found broken branches, signs of a struggle, and dried blood. They stopped.

— Ethan, do you think it’s the boy? — Nancy asked, examining the spot.

— This guy’s a serial killer. That wasn’t his first victim — Ethan said grimly.

Nancy took a few photos, then got back on her bike. Ethan sped up, adrenaline burning. He wanted to be her hero — to make up for forgotten birthdays and bad jokes. Nancy, too, regretted the times she’d ignored him over nothing.

The forest sped by — pines, firs, bushes. Finally, they saw it: a strange structure. Not a creepy shack like in horror movies, but an ancient stone house by a stream. Smoke rose from the chimney, light glowed in the windows. The ground was scarred, the yard fenced by old wood. Someone was inside.

Nancy and Ethan exchanged a glance.

— Maybe we should go back and call the cops — Ethan suggested, sensing the danger.

— Yeah, let’s—

A child’s scream cut through the night. Nancy jumped off her bike, grabbing the knife.

— Nancy, wait! — Ethan shouted.

— We can’t leave a kid in there! — she ran toward the house.

Ethan sighed and followed. They pressed to a window — and what they saw nearly broke their minds.

On the table lay a dead child, eyes closed, chest split open, skin greenish. Nearby — jars labeled “Tommy,” “Eva,” “Danny.” Half the room was dusty and broken; the other half — spotless. An old man in glasses and a lab coat was inserting organs into the body.

The doctor wept:

— I hate myself. Why… why didn’t I bury you, my sweet boy…

— My son, my son — he repeated.

— You must do what I tell you — his face twisted, his voice turned inhuman.

The doctor wiped his tears, made the final stitch, and stared at the corpse.

— You promised that if I brought human parts, he’d live! — he screamed, slamming the table.

— Silence, worm! You owe me! — the voice thundered.

— I didn’t want to kill children! And that waitress… she didn’t deserve death! You made me kill my own son! You’re the cause of all this! — he hurled a scalpel into the wall.

— Mr. Bennet thought of you. You’re too weak for the book — the voice sneered.

— You’re just in my head! Go away! I’ll tell the police!

— DIE, TRAITOR! — the voice roared.

Ethan looked at Nancy. Then he saw something he would never forget.

The child’s corpse rose and grabbed the doctor by the throat. He struggled, but the grip was iron.

— No one betrays the Halo Cult and lives! — the demonic voice shrieked from the child’s mouth.

— Ethan, we have to help him! — Nancy shouted.

Ethan snapped out of his trance and charged the door. Locked. They rammed it until it splintered.

The doctor lay on the floor, gasping. The child grinned, pressing harder.

— Hey! Get off him! — Ethan shouted.

The corpse turned and lunged. Ethan sprayed pepper into its eyes. It staggered but didn’t stop. Ethan fought it off with a broken chair.

— Girl, come here… I know what to do — the doctor rasped. Nancy bent close. He whispered something, and she dashed to the table.

— Ethan, the knife! — she slid it across the floor.

The demon laughed as Ethan struck again and again. Nancy mixed something in a mortar. Ethan glanced at her — without the doctor’s help, they’d be dead already.

— AARGH! — the creature bit Ethan’s arm. He smashed it over the head.

Nancy threw the powder at it. The thing shrieked, convulsed, then fell. A horrible howl echoed through the house. The body crumbled. Blood vanished. The broken furniture and walls restored themselves, the room now spotless.

Ethan staggered toward the doctor.

— What was that thing? — he asked.

— The Halo Cult… — the doctor wheezed.

— Don’t take their books… never take their books… — he muttered again.

— Son… I’m coming… — he coughed.

— We have to— — Nancy began.

— No. I want to die. I’ve done too much evil — he interrupted.

— What is the Halo Cult? — Nancy leaned closer.

— Run from this town… run… — he whispered.

— Damn, Nolan! He got that book too! — Nancy realized.

— It’s all Mr. Bennet! — she cried.

They looked at the lifeless doctor — his heart had stopped, eyes staring blankly at the ceiling.

The pair left the house and walked toward their bikes.

Author’s Note

The next story will reveal more about the Halo Cult and the fate of Nancy and Ethan.

You’ve seen how the book affects people and the connection to Mr. Bennet.

The story of Tommy and Dr. Callahan is only one piece of a much darker puzzle.