My grandmother died and passed down her cabin to my brother and me. Our family is not what it seems

Just joining us? I recommend starting at the beginning. Too far back? You can refresh your memory with the previous update here.

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Making cryptids? My mind reeled. How did somebody make a cryptid? What the fuck was our grandma doing? I brought a hand to my forehead, wincing as memories hit me like a cement truck.

It’s medicine, Matthew. Now be still and no crying, we don’t want to worry your mom.

But I feel fine, grandma. I don’t need any medicine.

Everybody needs this medicine. Give me your arm.

What about Eric?

He’ll get it too. Now give me your arm.

Uncle Jake clapped his hands and broke me from my reverie. “Oh, good work, Eric. Good work! This is why I always said you’d be great for the cabin.” His eyes gleamed. “Now, why don’t we all go for a little hike, as a family? I have something I’d like to show you.”

“After all of this?” Eric said incredulously. “You must be drunk.”

“I don’t think he’s drunk,” I said, the memory subsiding. The sound of the rushing river returned, along with the frigid chill of the wind. Why were these memories so invasive? So vivid? I shook the thought away, I needed to get us out of this situation first. “He’s taking something to keep him normal.”

“What?” Eric said. He glanced at Mysteries in his hands. “DId you… read this when we were kids, Matt?”

I shook my head. “No. I was never the reader between us, was I?” My hands found the stone in my pocket, and I thumbed at it. Feeling the weight, the shape. “I remember grandma giving me a kind of medicine.” My stomach felt upside down just talking about this. I hardly knew what it even meant. “I think Jake’s taken some medicine himself. Maybe something that keeps him from becoming whatever grandma meant for him to be.”

Jake frowned, his small, milky eyes narrowing. “Quite the theory, Matty.”

“Is it?” I said quietly.

He stepped forward, two rapid paces one after another. His body swayed at the sudden stop. From the edges of his mouth, his tongue flicked out, licking at his lips. “Is that why you’re so afraid of me?” he said. “Because you think there’s a monster underneath?”

“I’m not afraid of you,” I lied, squeezing the stone. “I just don’t want to kill my own uncle.”

Jake let loose a howling laugh.

“Matt…” Eric said, stepping closer to me. “I don’t think we should be provoking him.”

Too late for that, I thought. Jake was here to finish something and it involved us. I wasn’t interested in letting him see it through.

“Tell you what, uncle,” I said, stepping forward. His eyes darted from my striding feet, to my face. He looked offended that I’d even consider myself in the same league as him. “Walk away right now, and I won’t fucking murder you.”

His shoulders thrust back, and his head jerked forward. His milk-white eyes bulged. “MurDer me?” he said in a voice that was beginning to sound nothing like his own. “Does your thErapist know you’re delusiOnal?” His entire body tremored, his feet stumbling in an effort to stay upright.

“Something’s happening,” Eric said seriously. “Now cut it out, Matt!”

A lot was happening. More would be happening soon, I could guarantee that. Now come at me, dear uncle. Give me an opening. “My therapist thinks I’ve got the right idea, actually. That my family is a bunch of hillbilly trash.”

“I aM,” Jake said, dropping to a knee and snarling. “A product of PRogress!” Whatever he had taken to keep him level, his emotions were throwing it out of whack.

“Show me,” I said, doing my best to keep my voice level.

With a growl he launched himself toward me, his catatonic limbs flying about, slaves to his own momentum. I took a step backward, steadying myself on my rear leg while I pulled out the stone with my good hand.

I smashed the stone against his skull with all the force I could manage. I heard a sharp crack and then a groan as my uncle dropped wordlessly onto the rocky shore.

Eric and I stood there transfixed for several moments, my heart feeling like it might beat out of my chest. My breaths came in heaves. Was he unconscious?

“You were trying to provoke him?” Eric said, stepping carefully around the other side of Jake’s unmoving body.

I nodded. “Yeah. Now let’s make sure he stays down.” I lifted the rock in my hand, ready to bash my uncle’s skull to fucking pulp.

Eric pushed me away. “What the hell?” he said. “You can’t kill him, Matt.”

I can’t kill him? I did my best not to punch Eric square in the jaw. “Look around you, man! We’re fucked out here. You think Jake’s a friend of ours? That he’s gonna help us down the mountain?” I took a few steps away, running a stressed hand through my long hair. “What do you think happens when he wakes up, huh? You think he just calls it a day and let’s us go?”

“I don’t know,” Eric stuttered. “But I know we’re not murderers. We’re not… like him.” His eyes drifted to Jake’s unmoving body, his expression torn. “If we do that, how are we any better?”

I stomped toward him and grabbed him roughly by his shirt. “How are we any better?” I growled. “How about we’re better because we didn’t lure two nephews out here to try and get them to become fucking draculas? How about we’re better because we didn’t give two kids a lifetime of trauma?”

Eric was silent, his eyes wet behind his glasses. I let my hand fall from his shirt, and turned my attention to Jake. His eyes were closed, but after what I’d seen in him earlier… I didn’t trust him to stay out for much longer. Something was trying to break free of him. Something horrible. I ran a thumb along the stone, biting my lip, weighing my options.

“Matt,” Eric said, his hand on my shoulder, voice cracking. “We have so many good memories with Uncle Jake. Remember fishing?”

Remember fishing. As if fishing could make up for this. Whoever Uncle Jake had been, or pretended to be, that wasn’t what he was anymore. My stomach sunk as I imagined him waking up now. Turning on us. But without the handicap of whatever medicine he’d taken to keep him human.

“I don’t have a choice.” I brought the stone down. The snap of Jake’s cheekbones filled my ears, drowning the sound of the river, the roar of wind. I brought the stone down again, to another horrid, dull crunch. Eric grabbed at my jacket, trying to pull me off, but I threw him backward with my good hand. He might've been a foot taller than me, but he weighed close to a hundred pounds less.

I was doing this, and no one was going to stop me. I brought the stone down again. And again.

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