Twilight Children Episode 6
Elaine goes missing.
Twilight Children is a horror serialization about care giving, family, and consuming stories. Episodes are released weekly. If you’re new here, you can catch up on episodes on the Twilight Children homepage.
Writing Skins is a reader supporter author newsletter that shares excerpts from Aigner Loren Wilson’s writing journal. Aigner is an award winning and nominated author of literary speculative fiction and nonfiction.
Previously On: In last week’s episode, we got a peak into Vlad’s mind as they tried to learn what it means to be alive and loved.
The Lost Tales of Ghoul City II
The Day I Left
ElaineI am better than you think I am. You, every one of you, sees me as this frail old dying thing, but I’ve survived. I am the oldest thing in this town. Not broken but standing unbroken against the onslaught of change and time and even death. I’ve outlived so many, and here I live changing the diapers of a child old enough, strong enough, and damn brilliant enough to build full-sized beds for both of us out of stolen lumber. What must you believe in your heart when you look at me? Tell me honestly, when you look at me, my hanging bruised flash, what is it you are considering? Am I worth it?
“Elaine,” you hissed. “Elaine.”
Keep calling; this tea is not ready to boil.
I will spit my heat and you will burn in the shadow, Vlad, because I have given everything to you. Everything. You are of my bone, my frozen wanted death. You think you can just come stand before me saying you are done?
“I am done being this child,” you said, shoving me away from your body as I tried to wipe and change you. “Look at me, Elaine.”
I can’t stop looking at you. Haven’t stopped looking at you since you came into my home, my worms’ nest. You are all I see when I close my eyes. Your dark face shining like a black hole. But I won’t let you consume the last of me.
I am still that wild wandering thing.
“I’ve decided to be 15. Old enough to keep you safe. Protect you,” you say behind me while I write you a goodbye.
The only thing I need protection from is you. Whatever it is you are. How come you get to change? How come you get to grow and be something else? It’s not fair. I want to take mine while I can.
If I can’t change like you, I’ll leave you.
See how it feels to be abandoned, Vlad. See how it feels to be left in the absence of something you once knew so well.
Catacomb's Update
RythHello! It is yours truly, Ryth—caster of tales, weaver of worlds, and delicacy of your dreams.
Song of the Day:
And trust me, readers, I won’t. I’ve been away dealing with some distant family drama. My other mother and boss from the bookstore, Elaine, has gone missing, so me and my little odd case, Vlad, have been searching the hollers and woods in this never-ending snowstorm we call home.
For any new readers, welcome to The Catacombs. My small corner of the internet for updates and fan fiction based around my little snowy town, Ghostwoods, New Jersey, or as my long-time readers know it: Ghoul City, a place for the forgotten, gotten, and gone astray. You can’t find us by any known road—or well, you couldn’t. And that leads me to some updates before today’s story of history and the future.
I first want to say a big warm, juicy thank you to Jeff Wells, Malon Townsend, Gregory Bucknick, and Stephanie Loctour for sending me some comic books to put up at Elaine’s. Your donations go a long way in making this town just a bit weirder. There was also a pretty large anonymous donation placed in the Ghoul City Gofundme—where people can donate funds to help folks in town get the food and supplies they need to live in such an isolated place. Whoever you are, your donation went to providing new coats, bullets, and a week’s worth of free groceries for every citizen of Ghostwoods. That’s damn near 200 people. As you can see from the pictures, our town’s donation closet is bursting with new gear. I even was able to grab a snap of our mayor, Jamilia, and her husband, Eddie, grabbing a few free items from the grocers, Apple’s, just yesterday.
Seriously, thank you to every person who contributes to the Gofundme. I try my hardest to show how far your donations go, but I don’t think pictures could ever do it justice.
Y’all are saving lives.
I know for a fact if it weren’t for y’all’s donations, even the small ones like $5, one of my family, one of the ghouls I call neighbor, would die. They wouldn’t be able to afford something basic like a bag of apples or a half-gallon of milk—yeah, shit’s expensive out here. And Von over at White’s Meat ain’t a philanthropist. So, without any money to eat or even just have a good time, they’ll turn to the dark, thinking no one cares, and that they deserve death.
More often than not, they’ll go that way, too. There’s been a fair share of bodies found hanging from the pines.
So, thank you for seeing us and helping keep the lights on just a little while longer.
And on that note of saving lives, I have to mention and give a small corner of this space for our mayor Jamilia. Like I mentioned, Elaine’s gone missing, and with her gone, well, that leaves Vlad one odd duck. I’m not sure who, though I have my educated guesses, but someone called child services on Vlad and Elaine.
Normally, when something like that happens, Eddie—Jamilia’s husband, the sheriff and dentist—does a wellness checkup and determines whether or not to take further action. Thanks to the Book Haulers and their renovations to the town, there’s now a paved road leading into Ghostwoods from the main highways, making it easier for outsiders to get in.
Outsiders like a social worker.
I was at the bookstore when her Prius rolled in with her government plates. I saw Jamilia intercept her and never have I seen a woman work so hard to keep someone away from the bookstore. Using my very sluethly skills, I followed them back to Jamilia’s office where I hid in a coat closet and watched Jamilia do, well, the best goddamn thing I’ve ever seen.
I won’t say more, but I don’t think we’ll be seeing that social worker anytime soon.
Other Updates:
Did I mention Vlad literally aged overnight like seven years?!? Here’s a picture of her looking like a tall odd but young 10-year-old a week ago. Here’s her just a couple of hours ago clearly fighting the bad parts of her teen years with the good parts of her adult years. Same kid, different body. Or same body, different person.
Once more for those in the back, I am a sex worker specializing in erotic art. I will watch you masturbate, fuck, stand naked at your window, or what have you. Then I craft a picture or story around your body’s movements. But I will not talk you to your edge, act as your sex therapist, or guide you in the ways of the body. That is not my job or my jam. I just like telling the stories hidden beneath the flesh.
Like this flash tale of Father Time and the Frightened Children.
Next Time: The search for Elaine continues in the snow.
Twilight Children Episode 7
Writing Skins is a reader supporter author newsletter that shares excerpts from Aigner Loren Wilson’s writing journal. Aigner is an award winning and nominated author of literary speculative fiction and nonfiction.
What did you think? I’m trying things out and everything is an experiment. I’d love to know your thoughts? Love it. Hate it. Absolutely indifferent and confused?