The Triangle

Wind rushed past Kieran Weir’s ears with a deafening roar. Her hair billowed up past her face, reaching towards the grey swirling mass that hovered over two hundred yards above her. The floating object looked like a Frisbee spinning on the axis of a black ball baring. With a whirring noise barely audible over the wind, the object sprouted a pulsating light just before it rocketed from view, heading toward the distant horizon. It was that exact moment in which Kieran realized she must be falling. Kieran had started to panic but she felt paralyzingly groggy and the confusion of how she ended up in this predicament slammed into her as if foreshadowing the fast-approaching ground below. She flailed her arms in a striking impression of a blue jay. Unfortunately, the only thing her poor attempts at flying achieved was spinning her in time to catch a glimpse of the boulevard in her front yard as it rushed up to meet her. And that’s when she woke up.

Before she was completely awake, the falling sensation from her dream was mirrored by her falling from her bed. The smack of her body and muffled groan were the sounds that accompanied the start of Kieran Weir’s day.

To make matters worse, the state of Kieran’s hangover was yet another reason why falling out of bed was a rough start. She grasped her head for fear that if she lets go her throbbing brain will simply spill out. Kieran stumbled slightly as she got to her feet. Oh, I might still be a little drunk she thought to herself. In absolute fear her parents might ask questions about her whereabouts last night and subsequently inquire on her alcohol consumption, Kieran strained her ears. She was listening to whether her morning antics had disturbed her parents. The clanking of a cast iron skillet coming from the kitchen and the aroma of cooking bacon tickling her olfactory told Kieran the first good news of the morning. At least there’s something to look forward to.

Kieran Weir was the sort of girl that was most comfortable wearing an oversized hoodie, the billowier the better. This was to properly hide the body she was ashamed of, even if most would consider it an attractive figure. A good pair of Lululemon, for comfort, would round out her ideal outfit. Getting dolled up has never been her scene and this morning’s attire wouldn’t be any different. She plucked last night’s Victoria Secret bra from the corner of her bed and reluctantly clipped it in place. It was when Kieran was draping the baggy sweatshirt over her thin shoulders that she felt a sharp pain on the base of her neck. Reactively she reached for the stinging on her neck and her hand came away with the residue of flakey dried blood.

Kieran plunged her hand in her purse, fishing for her compact. After clumsily shuffling around inside her purse, she eventually gave in and up ended the contents onto her bed. Kieran grabbed hold of the mirror and flipped it open. She positioned herself with her back to the full-length mirror hanging on the inside of her bedroom door, holding the smaller mirror close to her face. On her neck, where the stinging had come from was a bizarre mark. Kieran took a big step backward, her heel colliding with her four-poster bed in the process of getting a better look. At the base of her neck were three red dots that made up the shape of an upside-down triangle. Each dot was the exact same size, roughly the circumference of a Bic pen and were screaming in pain. All three of the wounds were puffy with irritation and had formed dried blood which had scabbed over, except the lowest one. The tip to the triangle looked the angriest with a fresh bead of blood forming where Kieran had just disturbed it.

“What the fuck,” Kieran muttered to no one as she squinted and took another step closer to the mirror on the door. Her brain seemed to smash itself against her skull as she tried to retrieve the memory of how she could have possibly sustained the foreign markings the night prior, but nothing came. Kieran can’t even remember exactly where she went, who she went out with or how she got home last night, let alone her new injury. In fact, the only reason she assumed she tied one on last night is because of the hangover and general feeling like garbage. She thumbed the triangle marking with a wince, wiping away the drip of blood that threatened to ruin her favorite hoodie.

The hooded sweatshirt was simple grey cloth with a mugging bulldog with the maroon and gold letters of UMD across her chest. Hockey laces stitched close the otherwise plunging neckline on her father’s old hoodie, representing his alma mater and the school she was hoping to attend in two years, after she graduated high school.

Kieran caught her reflection in the mirror previously used for her wound investigation. The blonde rat’s nest perched on top of her head was a tangle of golden frizzy knots. Lazy and catching a renewed whiff of her father’s cooking from downstairs, she decided to just grab the nearest scrunchy. Fuck it, that’s presentable enough, she thought as she secured her hair in a messy bun. Kieran made for her bedroom door, finally capitulating to the protests of her stomach.

A wall of breakfast odor rolled over Kieran Weir as she flung her door on its hinges. Accompanying her walk to the stairs came the squawking of local morning radio. When she was about to make her dissent, something on the radio caught her attention and she paused.

“Ladies and gentlemen welcome back from that intermission, and Chris we need to jump right back into the story that broke moments ago. Late last night police officers responded to a welfare check at the Haven House. We’re still awaiting on a scheduled press conference from St. Paul police chief Patrick Gaitley, in hopes he can fill us in on what exactly happened. As most of you already know the Haven House is the headquarters and compound of local religious sect called Azrael’s Ascendants, a group of folks that have been at the center of much controversy as of late.” The radio host on 105.3 KLIV continued. “They moved into the Haven House some time ago and wasted little time spreading their more bizarre ideals.”

“That’s right Corey,” the other radio man interjected, his raspy voice not as smooth as the other man’s, “and while we wait for the chief’s statement, I wanted to play a clip of the self-proclaimed leader of the Azrael’s Ascendants, the man they call ‘Uno’ giving a speech on the local news, over a decade ago, shortly after arriving here in Minnesota.”

The radio crackled before a man’s voice, I can’t believe dad still insists on starting his day with the antique, high-pitched but oddly soothing flooded the airwaves. “Okay, listen to me. We in no way want to pose a threat to anyone, nor do we feel the need to recruit folks that do not share our common goals. You understand what I’m saying? All we wish is to warn those that are looking to relinquish sin from their hearts, beware of the end times and the devils that it will bring. The devils will walk among us, they will wear our skins, they’ll pretend to be us. Do you understand? But we are in luck. Azrael, our savior is coming to rescue us and offer sanctuary for all willing to ascend themselves above the sin of man. For those who have seen the truth can come to the Haven House, where we will see you welcomed with blessings.”.

“So, after that most of us chalked them up to be a fairly harmless, albeit kooky cult,” Chris the raspy voiced host said, after the clip of the odd sounding leader of Azrael’s Ascendants finished. Kieran listened intently as her aunt Carol on her mother’s side had joined the Azrael’s Ascendants shortly after they arrived in St Paul. Much to Eve Wier’s, Kieran’s mother, disappointment as she prided her family on being headstrong and not one’s to fall for such nonsense. To make matters worse Carol was rumored to have a daughter now, members of Azrael’s Ascendants aren’t allowed much outside communication. So, the Wier family has never met their niece/cousin and she was ten years old at the time of the radio announcement. Chris continued, “and sure it wasn’t the most comfortable thing to have move into our neighborhood, but they weren’t hurting anyone. That is until now. Hopefully we’ll have details soon.”

As if the Chief of Police could hear Chris’ request, his radio partner chimed in with, “Well Chris, right on queue the police chief just stepped up to the podium.”

“It’s with a heavy heart that I regret to inform the public of the situation still unfolding at Haven House.” The Chief of Police had a gruff voice that sounded suspiciously as if he was reading a script. “Early this morning the fifth precinct of the St. Paul police received a call for a welfare check on members of Azrael’s Ascendants. The officers on scene were able to obtain access to the home and upon entry, our officers discovered something truly horrific. All seventeen residents of the compound were found deceased. The extent of their injuries is yet to be determined but we can say the St. Paul police department is launching a full investigation. That said we do not expect foul play at this time as the evidence provided currently suggests mass suicide.” The police chief continued his speech but a fresh grumble in Kieran’s stomach snapped her back to the present.

She realized she’d been hovering at the top of the stairs but with her attention back, you can’t even remember Aunt Carol, shake it off, she began her descent to the kitchen. Max Wier was the best cook Kieran Wier had ever known in her seventeen years on the earth. That’s why it was weird to see the plump, balding, round-faced man sitting at the dining room table giving way for her mother to stand behind the sizzling bacon on the stovetop. Kieran was caught off guard and a little let down. She was hoping to sneak into the kitchen to talk with her father undisturbed by her mom. It wasn’t that she disliked her mother, but she wanted to get the lay of the land with the news she’d just heard. Even if Eve Wier hadn’t seen her sister in years the discovery of her death must be tough on her and Kieran would rather say the wrong or insensitive thing to her father first. He was the kind of guy that understood your true intentions even when you yourself couldn’t properly express them and was always good for shooting a sympathetic glance at Kieran while she was reprimanded by her mother for saying the wrong or insensitive thing.

Eve Wier was not a bad mother to Kieran, but she was the enforcer of the pair. Her hooked nose and piercing brown eyes didn’t help her reputation of the stern, no nonsense rule follower. One thing was for sure though, she was not traditionally the cooker of the Wier family. In fact, she famously burned pizza rolls once when Kieran was younger. They had sent Max off for some mother daughter bonding one night, it ended with a lot of Door Dashed food and a great story Kieran liked to share when her mom was in a good mood. That was one of the better memories Kieran shared with her mother, whereas she has countless with Max.

She noticed that her parents paused their separate activities and it dawned on Kieran that she missed a morning greeting. “Morning,” she groggily croaked before clearing her throat. Max smiled before lowering his eyes back to the laptop sitting on the table in front of him. This was another weird thing for him as he is not what you’d call a tech savvy guy. He’d much prefer to continue the farse that is reading an actual physical newspaper. Ugh so old. Also, he is usually one that wears his emotions on his sleeve. He must not have heard the radio. “Whacha doing pop? Did you hear that story on the radio?” Kieran asked, assuming there had to be a good reason for the peculiarities that morning.

Max uncharacteristically let his daughter’s questions hang in the balance for a painfully long time before waving his hand in an “I’m busy” gesture. Eyes rolled in the way only a teenage daughter could, Kieran turned to her mother and took a moment to be confused that she hadn’t appeared devastated about her sister. Kieran asked, “Mom need any help? How are you holding up with the news about Aunt Ca…” Kieran’s jaw fell slack, not allowing her to finish the question of concern for her mother. The reasoning for Kieran’s stumble was the mark at the base of her mother’s neck.

At first it was just a quick glimpse as Eve’s hair bounces from side to side but when she spun her attention back to the bacon, Kieran got a better look. The marking was three small punctures that made up the shape of and upside-down triangle, perfectly reflecting the wounds on her daughter’s neck. Instinctively Kieran reached for her own marking and winced as the salt from her sweaty palms stung the injury.

Eve spun, as if knowing eyes were on the back of her neck. She narrowed her eyes for a fraction of a breath before broadcasting a wide smile. Oh mom, no, Kieran thought as that behavior didn’t seem correct for her to attempt. Especially considering she wasn’t what you’d call a smiler by nature but also because of the news that was reported on the radio moments earlier. What is with these two today? Kieran never understood why her parents acted the way they did but at least she was used to it, but now the foreign actions of her parents gave her goosebumps.

“Food’s on, hit it Bob,” her mother said and produced a pile of perfectly crisp bacon and a stack of pancakes. Ok, what the fuck, now I know something is up. Not only did Eve Wier never utter the saying “food’s on, hit it Bob,” but she would roll her eyes like clockwork every single time Max would say it. Which Kieran Wier’s father would say every time he completed cooking a meal, her mother quietly hated that her husband had this particular quirk. To make matters worse for Eve, Kieran started to say it, unconsciously, on the rare occasions she cooked. In other words, Eve Wier under no circumstances would’ve started speaking the phrase and if she did by accident, the grin would not still be on her face as it was then.

Kieran sat next to her still computer enthralled father at the dinner table when her mother placed the two plates filled with mouthwatering breakfast, in front of them. Instead of taking her usual place at the opposing head of the table from her husband, Eve remained standing before she shuffled back to the stove. Did she forget something? Kieran thought, but no she just stood there, her head slightly tilted. The triangle puncture wound glowed a renewed red. Kieran shrugged her shoulders and began to plate up her food and instantly dug into her bacon. She shot her best “what the fuck is with her,” glance at her father. Just when she thought Max Wier was going to be done with his computer antics and eat some breakfast, he closed the laptop with a rough slap, pushed back from the table and joined his wife in the kitchen. What the actual fuck? The bacon almost fell from Kieran’s open mouth.

Kieran’s parents stood in the kitchen, near the stove with their backs to her. The fact that Kieran noticed that her father also had the three punctures in an upside-down triangle, nestled just about his shoulders on the neck, for whatever reason didn’t shock Kieran. That’s about the speed for how this morning has been going. She rolled her eyes again and started to get annoyed. It wasn’t funny anymore. And that is when she heard them mumbling. Swiftly but trying not to be too obvious about it, Kieran reached to turn down the still squawking radio to hear what was being said in the kitchen.

“… ink she knows?” Kieran just caught the end of her father’s question.

“Let’s hope not,” Her mother’s reply was clear with the radio lowered, “how many times is this anyway? When will she be ready?”

Max paused before he grabbed something off the counter. At first glance it appeared to be a gun of some sorts but with a better look Kieran saw what it actually was. She didn’t understand what she was looking at first, but it was a chrome device, the body of it was an L shape just as a standard handgun would look. However, where the barrel would be on a gun, was three pencil-like needles, each about two inches in length. Two needles on what is to be assumed the top of the business end of the device and one in the center, lower than the two above.

“We have to be close now.” Her dad said, as a deep purplish goo began to ooze from the tips of the needle. “We have to try again.”

It was at that time that Kieran Wier pushed back from the table hoping to excuse herself, preferably unnoticed. But before Kieran had a full grasp on her situation, Eve Wier leapt onto the island that divided the kitchen from the dining room. Her mother was frothing at the mouth as if doing a great impression of that dog Cujo from that book Kieran read a year back. It was when a line formed dead center on Eve Wier’s face and began to split that instinctively, Kieran jumped to her feet and made to scramble away from her mother. She had lost track of Max, so when she was grabbed from behind, she screamed bloody murder. Max quickly crammed his entire fist inside Kieran’s mouth, sufficiently gagging her and stopping the screaming. Kieran’s neck exploded with pain as Max shoved the device into her already sore wounds. She didn’t think the pain could get worse but that was before the purple liquid was injected. Max released the trigger and discarded the device on the table again before stepping into his daughter’s view.

“Let’s hope this one sticks.” Kieran, instantly drowsy, heard her father say. But was it her father? Because his face too was split directly down the middle. The further the two halves got from one another the more visible the thin viscous threads of purple goop stretched the gap and the sicker Kieran thought she’d be. Or is the nausea from the injection? Eve’s, or whoever she was, shell was almost completely exposing what laid beneath and Max’s wasn’t too far behind. Inside of Kieran Wier’s parents’ heads was an oblong face with skin like leather stretched tight and the color of purple so dark it might be black. A hardened carapace protruded from sections of their new faces as if creating medieval helms. In her hazy state, Kieran saw two sets of razor-sharp teeth form into what was unmistakably a smile that parted, allowing a snake-like tongue to taste the air every so often.

With a one last ditch effort she managed to stand and scrambled for the door. Her once parents protested but all that came out was an awful rattling noise. The guttural clicking renewed her vigor to escape, she reached the front door before the imposter Eve and Max had time to alter their plan of attack. Kieran flung the door open and had the overwhelming drive to slip into the impending stupor that was brought on by the injection, and with the last of her strength, she ran for the front yard. Except Kieran Wier hadn’t stepped out into her front yard.

Wind rushed past Kieran Weir’s ears with a deafening roar. Her hair billowed up past her face, reaching towards the grey swirling mass where her house should have been. The floating object was not the Wier house but a Frisbee-like vehicle spinning on the axis of a black ball baring. It was that exact moment in which Kieran realized she was falling. Kieran had started to panic but she felt paralyzingly groggy and the confusion of how she ended up in this predicament slammed into her as if foreshadowing the fast-approaching ground below. She flailed her arms in a striking impression of a blue jay. Unfortunately, the only thing her poor attempts at flying achieved was spinning her in time to catch a glimpse of the boulevard in her front yard as it rushed up to meet her. And that’s when she woke up.

The End!