As shadows come alive in a quiet bedroom and spell out Milo’s name, Haley and Robin find themselves drawn to the quaint village of Willowtook during its Solstice Celebration. With their enigmatic music player offering cryptic warnings, the duo must navigate supernatural forces, uncover hidden truths, and confront the darkness threatening to unravel everything.
Solstice Transfer is Episode 4 of The Sounds series. In connection with the release of this brand-new story, all of the previous episodes have been updated with expanded details, new scenes, and overall improvements to the point that they’re new stories. I recommend reading the past three before starting this story.
The shadows on the purple bedroom walls didn’t flicker—they thickened, pooling together like living tar. They slithered with purpose, stretching and writhing until the walls seemed to ripple under their weight. Shapes began to form, pulling themselves out of the flatness of the wall and into the dim, candlelit space of Milo’s room.
Milo’s wide, slate-gray eyes darted around the small, stone-walled space. The lantern on his nightstand, powered by a shard of glowing crystal, cast trembling beams across his scattered belongings: a wooden toy pickaxe, a miniature forge set he’d built with his father, and a small, half-carved figure of his mother he’d never finished. His sturdy bed, adorned with a quilt stitched in earthy greens and golds, felt like a fragile shield against the shadows that deepened and twisted around him.
Then they appeared.
The eyes came first. Two molten gold orbs–bigger than Milo’s head–burned through the darkness, unrelenting and searing. Milo’s throat tightened as they fixed on him, piercing and all-knowing, as if they could see every secret thought he had ever buried.
The rest of the creature followed, pulling free from the shadows in a fluidity-defying nature. Bangarang. Their sinuous form was impossibly massive, covered in dark, bristling fur shimmering with the faintest hints of violet under the glimmer of the light. Their limbs moved with predatory grace, each step deliberate, each muscle shift powerful. The edges of their body seemed to flicker and melt into the surrounding darkness as if they were one with the shadows.
Milo’s breath hitched as Bangarang slithered closer, their presence swallowing the small room. His mind screamed with recognition. The stories. The old tales the elders whispered to keep children obedient during the winter solstice. Bangarang, the ancient being who devoured naughty children, leaving no trace.
But Milo wasn’t naughty. He wasn’t.
He clutched the quilt tighter, his mind racing. He had finished his chores today, like always, scrubbing the solar panels that powered their forge until they gleamed. He had shared his bread with the neighbor’s goat when it wandered into their yard, its clunky cybernetic leg clicking softly against the redbrick road. He hadn’t pulled Dagna’s braids, even though she’d shoved him off his hoverboard at recess. He’d been good. He was always good.
“I’m not bad,” he whispered, his voice trembling, barely audible over his heartbeat. “I’m not bad…”
Bangarang didn’t react to his words. They moved forward with an unnerving silence, their paws–the size of his bed–pressed against the stone floor without making a sound. The only noise in the room was the faint hum of the crystal lantern and the soft, rhythmic rumble of Bangarang’s breath.
As they closed the distance, Milo’s gaze flickered to their neck. There, barely visible beneath their thick fur, was a glint of metal. A collar. It was engraved with faint runes, the patterns pulsing dimly with a sickly green light. Milo’s thoughts scrambled, unable to understand what he was seeing.
He wanted to scream, to cry out for his parents, but his voice felt trapped, swallowed by the oppressive weight of the creature before him. Bangarang loomed over him now, their molten eyes unblinking.
Milo’s mind clung desperately to the thought: I’m good. I’ve been good. They’ll know I’m good…
But Bangarang surged forward, shadows rising like a wave and consuming the bed in one swift motion. They engulfed Milo in a single, fluid motion, his scream strangled into silence before the cries could escape. The room fell deathly quiet as though the air itself had been sucked away.
When the shadows peeled back, everything was eerily undisturbed. Milo’s bed remained perfectly made, with the quilt folded at the edges. His slippers sat untouched on the floor, and his favorite book lay open on the nightstand, its corner carefully dog-eared. The faint hum of the crystal shard lamp illuminated the room, casting its soft, bluish glow over the empty space. Nothing was out of place—nothing except the absence of Milo.
Bangarang stood in the center of the room, lingering. Their eyes scanned the space with a strange, almost conflicted flicker. The faint glow of the collar pulsed once, then dimmed.
Then, without a sound, Bangarang melted into the shadows, their form dissipating into the walls like smoke. The room was cold and silent, except for the crystal shard’s faint hum on the nightstand.
The Wandering Times praised Willowtook’s Solstice Celebration as a charming retreat where time seemed to slow beneath the glow of lantern-lit streets. Nestled deep in the rolling hills, the dwarven town welcomed visitors of all kinds, though its design was unapologetically traditional. Redbrick roads, uneven with age, wound through narrow alleys and bustling courtyards, built for steady, stout steps rather than modern wheels. Visitors were encouraged to leave their vehicles at the edge of town and embrace the rustic pace.
Haley and Robin, accustomed to city life and no strangers to the light rail, made their journey without complaint. A car was a luxury they couldn’t afford, and the mirror teleportation system was even further out of reach.
Robin scrolled through the glowing holographic guide on her networker, the soft light limited to their seats in the passenger car. “Oh!” she exclaimed, tapping on the Top Activities banner. “They’ve got a wooden shoemaking class! And it says they only charge for materials.”
Haley, leaning against Robin with her head on her girlfriend’s shoulder, peered at the screen. “That sounds fun. Very… rustic. Oh! A cake-baking contest. I wish I could’ve entered that.”
Their excitement of reviewing the festivities carried them to Willowtook Station.
As the light rail passenger car doors opened, Haley stepped onto the platform and froze. “Holy—these trees are enormous.”
She craned her neck to take in the towering redwoods, their trunks so broad that the platform’s roof barely reached halfway up. A breeze stirred, carrying the faint smokiness of hearth fires and the earthy undertone of damp moss clinging to the trees’ roots.
Haley’s boots caught on a crooked redbrick, and she stumbled, grabbing Robin’s arm for balance. “I guess I need to be careful,” she muttered, glancing down at the uneven street.
A nearby dwarf chuckled as he passed, his sturdy frame barely noticing the terrain. Lanterns swayed above the entrance, their golden glow catching the soft sheen of frost clinging to the branches of the trees. The faint sound of hammer-on-anvil echoed from somewhere deeper in town, mingling with the distant hum of music.
Haley tugged her rainbow sweater tighter around her, grateful for the warmth. Her jeans and sturdy boots, weathered from countless adventures, felt perfect for exploring this forested haven.
Robin, however, adjusted her coat with a casual flick of her wrist. The fabric shimmered slightly as she tapped her networker, scrolling through various color options. With a subtle swipe, the coat shifted from a muted silver to a rich shade of deep red, matching the trees. The coat’s adaptive layers hugged her slender frame, the outer shell radiating warmth without visible seams or zippers. The hood, lined with synthetic fur, adjusted itself for a perfect fit, while her new boots would stabilize her on any surface—whether icy paths or uneven ground—by adjusting their grip automatically.
As Haley and Robin ventured into Willowtook, the town seemed to greet them with open arms. Haley slowed, her eyes tracing the wooden storefronts that lined the cobblestone streets.
“Look at this place,” she murmured, brushing her fingers along the frame of a nearby building. The wood was smooth and polished, with etches of swirling geometric patterns that melted seamlessly into carvings of leaves and blooming flowers.
Robin stopped beside her, spinning around to admire all the intricate designs. “It’s like the buildings grew right out of the ground,” she said. “Nothing like Aequus, that’s for sure.”
Haley smirked. “Yeah, this is definitely different.”
A dwarf passed by, humming as he carried a bundle of ivy-wrapped wood. Even the smallest details of the town echoed a connection to the forest. Vines crept along windowsills, their leaves catching the soft glow of lanterns swaying above. The air smelled faintly of pine and fresh-cut wood, mingling with the warmth of baking bread from a nearby shop.
Robin’s eyes widened as she caught sight of a carved archway leading to a side street. “Look at that,” she said, pointing to a design of interlocking flowers and vines that framed the entrance. “Whoever did this wasn’t just a carpenter—they were an artist.”
Haley nodded, her gaze following the curve of the arch. “Generations of artists, probably. You can tell this town has history.”
They wandered further, the rhythmic hammering and chattering of voices filling the air. Each step revealed another hidden detail—a small bird carved into the base of a lamppost, the intricate hinges of a wooden door shaped like blooming petals.
“Wow,” Robin said, grinning with eyes wide as she took the sights of the town. “This is… perfect, a fantasy tale from a book. So, are we going to be solving any mysteries today?”
Haley tilted her head, raising an eyebrow. “Do you want to find a mystery?”
Robin hesitated. “I mean… You haven’t asked your music player about our day?”
“It did say something about Bangarang, but I don’t know what that’s about.”
“Bangarang?” A voice cut through their conversation.
The couple turned to find a dwarf standing behind a wooden street vendor booth. His salt-and-pepper beard framed a face carved with years of life and laughter.
“You’re wondering about Bangarang?” the vendor asked with a grin equal parts amusement and mischief.
Haley stepped closer. “Yeah. Who—or what—is Bangarang?”
The dwarf chuckled. “Ah, you’ve stumbled upon one of our oldest legends. Bangarang is an ancient guardian spirit, or so the story goes. Every Solstice, they hunt down unruly children, feeding on their restless energy to sustain their immortality. To avoid their wrath, families leave candy in their shoes overnight. If you’re lucky, Bangarang spares you for another year.”
“So if we see candy in a shoe, leave it alone,” Haley said.
“That’s mighty polite of you. I wish more tourists would have the same mentality. As our solstice celebration grew, we had problems with visitors not respecting our customs. Plus, the uptick in traffic translated into more trash, which attracts critters, so the mayor banned leaving shoes out with candy.”
Robin raised an eyebrow and folded her arms. “But Bangarang is just a story, right?”
The crafter winked. “Let’s just say the candy would always be gone by morning. Now, would either of you care for a souvenir?”
Robin scoffed but chose not to push the issue further. Instead, she and Haley browsed the vendor’s stall, examining the array of handcrafted goods. Intricate wooden trinkets caught their attention—small, delicate figurines of local mythological creatures, each carved with stunning precision. Despite the allure of the treasures, neither of them bought anything. They shared a silent agreement to hold off on souvenirs, wanting to explore more of the town before settling on something to remember their trip.
As they strolled down the redbrick street, Robin was drawn to a vendor displaying an array of baking supplies—shiny, colorful molds, delicate pastry tools, and sacks of exotic ingredients. Her fingers itched to explore the assortment, imagining the creative confections she could craft. Meanwhile, Haley stopped in her tracks, her attention caught by a weathered wooden information board plastered with an eclectic mix of paper posters, some frayed at the edges.
“Wow,” Haley said, stepping closer. “A non-digital info hub. Don’t see that often.”
Child Sitter for Hire. New Coffee Shop opening for Solstice Week. Wood Sculpture Tools for Sale. A Solstice Carol now performing at Little Yellow Theatre. Missing child. Another missing child.
The paper and ink on the two missing children’s posters looked fresh upon Haley’s inspection. From what Haley could summarize, the two seemed to be unconnected. What’s going on in Willowtook?
As Haley snapped pictures of the posters, a stout dwarf approached her, his face weathered by years of toil, his eyes shadowed with quiet desperation. He smoothed the edges of a crumpled poster against the wooden noticeboard before pinning his flyer in place with deliberate precision. The paper fluttered in the breeze, revealing a photo of a young dwarf with curly hair and a playful grin, captioned with bold letters: MISSING: Milo Clawhammer. Haley hesitated, feeling a pang of sympathy as the dwarf’s calloused fingers lingered on the edge of the poster as if willing the image to come to life.
“What happened?” Haley asked.
The man sighed, his voice thick with exhaustion. “My son wasn’t in his room this morning. He… he’s just gone.”
“I’m so sorry,” Haley said softly, taking a picture of the flyer with her networker. “I’ll keep an eye out for him.”
The father nodded, his gratitude unspoken but clear in his fatigued eyes. He trudged away, his stack of posters clutched in his hands. Without a smile, the father stepped back, his shoulders sagging under the weight of guilt and fear. He scanned the bustling crowd, his expression caught between hope and despair, before slipping away with his stack of posters.
The moment he disappeared from view, Haley pulled out her music player.
“Who’s taking these children?” she said, pressing shuffle. The screen lit up with the song titled “Bangarang.” Haley groaned. “Great. A local legend that may or may not exist. Got any hints on how to find this mystical being?”
She pressed shuffle again. This time, “Workingonit” appeared. Rolling her eyes, she stuffed the player back into her pocket. “Yeah, super helpful.”
“There you are!” Robin called, weaving through the crowd toward her. “I realized you weren’t with me. What’s caught your attention?”
Haley gestured toward the cluster of missing children posters. “Found a mystery.”
Robin studied the posters, her face falling. “Oh no. I wonder what happened.”
“Well,” Haley said, “according to my music player, Bangarang took them.”
Robin scoffed. “Bangarang? Isn’t that just some old folklore?”
Haley shrugged. “Maybe. Or someone’s using the story as a cover. When I asked how to find Bangarang, my player said, ‘Workingonit.’”
Robin’s eyes widened with the answer. “Wait! Look at this.”
She pointed to a re-election poster hanging outside a nearby house. The bold, two-tone image of Mayor Thurgrim Ironpost’s weathered face was accompanied by his campaign slogan: “Workonit for a Better Willowtook!”
Haley blinked. “Oh, wow. That can’t be a coincidence. Let’s see if we can talk to him.”
“I overheard someone say he’s judging the cake-baking contest this afternoon,” Robin said. “We might catch him there.”
“Sounds like a plan.”
With time to spare, Haley and Robin leisurely meandered through the vibrant shops and colorful booths that filled the streets, each bursting with unique treasures and enticing local treats. The sun bathed the town in a golden glow, warming their skin as cheerful laughter and lively chatter mingled with the music of street buskers. The couple paused occasionally, examining handmade crafts and sampling baked goods, their curiosity guiding them from one stall to the next.
As they continued, the streets opened into the bustling town square, where a large banner stretched overhead, announcing the day’s competitions in bold, festive letters. Approaching the contest area, Haley and Robin spotted a stage flanked by rows of tables laden with cakes waiting to be judged. Standing at the center of the activity was Mayor Ironpost, a stout figure radiating authority.
He was dressed in a striking crimson coat with intricate gold embroidery that shimmered in the sunlight, each stitch forming elaborate patterns mirroring the designs etched into the town’s architecture. The coat’s high collar framed his thick neck, and the polished brass buttons glinted as he adjusted his clipboard. Atop his head rested a matching red hat with a wide brim, its band adorned with a single, elegant sprig of ivy that swayed gently in the breeze. Haley thought his outfit exuded both charm and a sense of self-importance, a stark contrast to the practical attire of the townsfolk bustling around him.
“I’ll talk to him,” Haley said as she studied the mayor. “You keep an eye out.”
Robin nodded, her gaze lingering on the mayor’s flashy attire. “Looks like someone wants to be the centerpiece of his own festival.”
Haley smirked. “Let’s see what he has to say.”
She stepped forward, adopting a confident stride. “Excuse me, Mayor Ironpost,” she said, her tone polite but direct. “Do you have a moment for a few questions?”
The mayor looked up, his bushy eyebrows rising beneath the brim of his hat. “Ah, you must be the travel writer my assistant mentioned,” he said, his tone warm but measured.
“Yes,” Haley lied smoothly, flashing a practiced smile. “I’m sure I won’t be the only one, but anyway, I wanted to ask you about Bangarang.”
The mayor chuckled, the sound rich but dismissive. He adjusted his coat as if to draw attention back to himself. “Ah, you’ve been looking into our local legends.”
“Exactly,” Haley replied, matching his casual tone. “Do you think Bangarang might have something to do with the missing children?”
The mayor’s laugh turned sharp, almost incredulous. “Bangarang? No, no, that’s just a story we tell children to get them to behave. Nothing more.”
“Then what’s your theory about the disappearances?” Haley pressed her voice firm.
The mayor’s expression tightened slightly, but he forced a genial smile. “It’s far too early to speculate. I truly don’t know what’s going on.” His gaze shifted briefly to the musical-note-shaped networker around Haley’s neck, the gleam catching his eye. “Interesting networker design you’ve got there,” he remarked. “If you’ll excuse me, I have a contest to judge.”
Without another word, he turned away, the tails of his crimson coat swaying dramatically as he made his way toward the first table of cakes.
Robin rejoined Haley as she lingered near the edge of the square. “Well?” Robin asked.
Haley sighed. “Not much. He dismissed Bangarang as a myth and claimed he knew nothing about the missing children. But…” She pulled out her music player again, a glint of mischief in her eyes. “Let’s try this. Was the mayor telling the truth?”
She pressed shuffle, and the screen displayed “Nothing but Lies.”
“Wait,” Robin said. “Does that mean Bangarang is real, and the mayor knows what’s happening to the children?”
Haley slipped the player back into her pocket, her expression grim. “Either way, it’s not good. Let’s see if we can’t find a place to stay and see what happens tonight.”
The rest of the day did not provide answers, but they participated in the fun as planned. The winner of the cake-baking contest triumphed with an intricately decorated red velvet cake featuring a long, spiraling cat. Haley and Robin’s shoemaking class turned into a lively affair, complete with mead and cheerful songs, making it one of the most enjoyable craft sessions they’d ever attended. Though they initially hadn’t planned to stay overnight, they were able to find a rental cabin on the outskirts of town. After a hearty meal at a local tavern, they retired to their cabin for a brief rest before nightfall.
Robin stifled a deep yawn as she put on her jacket. “What’s the plan? Willowtook isn’t big, but we can’t search everywhere.”
Haley grinned and pulled out her music player. “Do you even have to ask?” Holding the device up dramatically, she said, “Where should we start?” Haley pressed shuffle, squinting at the screen. “’ Running,’” she read aloud.
“Running?” Robin repeated her pulse quickening. “Like, right now?”
Haley scoffed, sliding on her backpack. “It’s probably referring to a running store or—“
The lights in the room snapped off.
“You were saying?” Robin whispered, her voice tight.
The shadows on the walls began to writhe and twist, flickering like restless flames. They slithered across the room, merging and separating until they formed Haley and Robin’s names in jagged, skeletal letters.
Haley swallowed hard and addressed the music player. “What should we do?”
The screen lit up with the song title “Gotta Go Fast.”
“Alright,” she said. “We’re leaving. Now.”
The shadows on the walls began to ripple, coalescing into writhing tendrils that crept closer to the center of the room. A low growl echoed from every corner, vibrating through the wooden floorboards.
The couple burst into the cold night air, their boots skidding on the gravel path outside the cabin. The chill bit at their skin, but the adrenaline coursing through their veins drowned out the cold. Behind them, the shadows poured out of the cabin like a living tide, rising and twisting into Bangarang’s complete, sinuous form.
Their molten gold eyes burned through the darkness, piercing through all they saw. A guttural hiss escaped their throat, reverberating like thunder. Bangarang slithered forward, their massive form weaving between the trees with an unnatural fluidity.
“This way!” Haley shouted, pulling Robin toward the narrow path to the main street back into town.
The redwoods loomed like silent giants, their towering forms casting long, shifting shadows that seemed to stretch and claw at the fleeing pair. The soft crunch of gravel underfoot was soon drowned out by the resounding thud of Bangarang’s movements, each rattling the ground like the pulse of an earthquake.
The path ahead narrowed, forcing Haley and Robin to dodge low-hanging branches and leap over patches of uneven ground. Their breaths came in short, ragged gasps, and their legs burned with the effort of running, but they didn’t dare slow down.
The shadows around them seemed to conspire against their escape. Tendrils snaked along the ground, tripping their steps, while others rose like dark specters, blocking their view of the trail. The forest itself seemed alive, shifting to trap them.
“We’re not going to make it at this pace!” Robin panted, glancing over her shoulder.
“How do we stop Bangarang?” Haley yelled at her music player.
The screen displayed “Workingonit.”
“Not helpful!” Haley grumbled. Then she spotted a freestanding billboard up ahead featuring Mayor Ironpost’s campaign slogan. “Robin, head for the billboard!”
They surged forward, their remaining strength fueled by sheer desperation. Bangarang roared again, the sound splitting the air like a shockwave. The golden eyes burned brighter, casting strange, flickering shadows that made the trees look like twisted claws.
Haley reached the billboard first, slamming her backpack to the ground and frantically unzipping it. “Come on, come on,” she muttered, her hands fumbling through all her stuff.
Robin staggered behind her, leaning against one of the billboard’s thick wooden supports, gasping for breath. “What… are you looking for?”
“This!” Haley cried, pulling out the glass bottle of shadow-bloom oil she’d taken while exploring Babylon Sisters Village. “If this stuff can handle a carpet monster, maybe it’ll work on Bangarang.”
Bangarang was closing in fast, their massive form blotting out the faint starlight above. Haley’s gaze darted to the towering wooden structure and then to the supports holding it up. The frame wasn’t pristine—one of the main posts was rotting near the base, its edges splintered and soft.
“Help me pull this down!” Haley shouted, her voice sharp with urgency.
Robin’s eyes widened. “You want to pull down a billboard?”
Haley’s fingers dug into the weakened wood of the nearest support. “Look at this post—it’s already falling apart. If we take out this and the other one, the whole thing should collapse!”
Robin’s skepticism gave way to grim determination. Without hesitation, she planted her feet and gripped the second post. “Okay. Let’s do this.”
Together, they heaved with all their strength, their combined weight pressing against the rotting supports. The billboard groaned loudly, the weakened frame trembling under the strain. A loud snap rang out as one of the supports splintered, sending a shudder through the structure. The overhead banner tore, flapping wildly in the wind as the entire frame began to tilt.
“Almost there!” Haley shouted, sweat dripping down her forehead. She kicked at the last remaining support, the force of her boot cracking the already brittle wood.
Bangarang lunged just as the billboard collapsed, the massive structure slamming on the creature with a deafening crash. Their impact shook the earth, sending up a cloud of dust and splinters. Bangarang roared in surprise as the billboard’s wooden frame pinned them to the ground, the beams creaking as the creature thrashed beneath the weight.
Haley didn’t waste a second. She scrambled onto the fallen structure, adding her weight to keep it in place. Her hands trembled as she popped the lid off the bottle of shadow-bloom oil.
“Please work,” she muttered, splashing the contents all over Bangarang. The oil ignited on contact with the collar, erupting into shimmering purple flames. Bangarang roared again, their movements slowing as the collar around their neck began to burn away.
Robin stepped back, her eyes wide as the shadows receded.
As the flames died out, Bangarang stilled, their giant head resting heavily against the ground. Their once-blazing eyes dimmed, replaced by a softer, almost weary glow.
“Thank you,” Bangarang rasped, their deep, trembling voice resonating through the clearing.
Haley stepped off the billboard, brushing debris from her hands. “Thank you?” she echoed, frowning. “For what?”
“For freeing me,” Bangarang said, their golden gaze locking with hers. “The mayor’s cursed collar bound me to his will. I had no choice in what I did. Now… I am my own again.”
Before Haley could respond, Bangarang’s body quaked, a guttural cough erupting deep within their chest. Their form trembled violently as they expelled a tangled mass of fur. The writhing clump hit the ground with a wet, sickly thud, twisting and unfurling until three small figures emerged.
Haley’s breath caught in her throat. “It’s them!” she said to Robin, her eyes widening as recognition struck. “From the posters.”
The missing dwarven children lay before them, pale and drawn, blinking groggily as though waking from a nightmare.
Robin knelt first, moving carefully toward the smallest child. “It’s okay,” she said gently, her voice soft and steady. “You’re safe now.”
The youngest, Milo, whimpered as he clung to Robin’s arm, his curly hair damp from tears. “W-where’s my papa?” he choked out, his voice breaking.
Robin stroked his back, her tone soothing. “We’ll take you to him. I promise.”
Haley crouched beside the other two—a girl clutching her knees tightly and an older boy rubbing his temples. “Hey,” she said softly, her voice calm. “You’re going to be okay.”
The girl’s trembling lips parted as she whispered, “The shadows… they talked to us.”
Haley’s stomach tightened. “What did they say?”
“They were angry,” the girl murmured, her wide, fearful eyes darting toward the darkened forest. “They kept saying… our parents needed to be punished.”
The boy’s voice cracked as he spoke. “I… I can’t remember how we got here. I was in my room, and then…” He shook his head, his pale face contorted with confusion. “Everything went dark.”
Haley rose, her gaze hardening as she turned to Bangarang. “Why these children?” she demanded.
Bangarang’s weary eyes flickered as they whispered, their voice like a distant echo in Haley’s mind. “It was not my choice. I do my best to resist. I much prefer candy, but the mayor chose them—just as he chose you.”
“Me?” Haley’s chest tightened as she stared at the creature. “Why me?”
Bangarang’s form began to fade, their edges blurring into the shadows around them. “Please,” they said, their voice softer now, almost pleading. “Help the children.”
Haley opened her mouth to speak, but Milo’s panicked cry cut through the air. “I hear it! The thing in the shadows—it’s still watching us!”
Robin held Milo close, her own eyes scanning the darkened forest. “You’re safe now. No one is going to hurt you.”
Haley glanced back at Bangarang, whose form was almost transparent with the surrounding darkness. “Are you okay?” she asked.
Bangarang’s fading voice answered, “I must rest, but I foresee us meeting again.”
Bangarang closed their eyes and faded away, dropping the billboard to the ground with a soft pat.
Haley crouched beside Milo and placed a hand on his shoulder. “Everything is going to be okay,” she said, her tone leaving no room for doubt. “We’re going to get you back to your families. I have their contact information.”
The Milo sniffled, his grip on Robin’s knees loosening as he whispered, “You do?”
Haley nodded, offering a reassuring smile. “Yes. I met your father. He’s very worried about you.”
The cries of the children softened as Robin and Haley helped them to their feet. Milo clung to Robin’s hand while the older boy leaned against Haley for support.
Robin looked at Haley, her voice steady but touched with relief. “Let’s get them home.”
Haley gave a slight nod, her eyes lingering on the now-empty space where Bangarang had been. “Yeah. Let’s go.”
The morning sun crept over the horizon, casting long golden beams through the mighty redwoods of Willowtook. Haley and Robin had spent the rest of the evening returning the children to their families. The two kept Bangarang’s story to themselves, telling the families and the protectors they’d found them lost in the woods while heading back into town. The warmth of the new day’s light felt reassuring after the previous night’s events, but Haley and Robin were far from satisfied. They sat on the porch of their rental cabin, sipping steaming cups of herbal tea they’d picked up from a local shop yesterday.
Robin leaned back, letting the wooden chair creak under her weight. “What now, then? We can’t just leave without figuring out what the mayor’s deal is. If he really put some collar on Bangarang to control them, why? What does he gain?”
A snarky grin curled on Haley’s face. “Now, who’s looking for a mystery?”
Robin rolled her eyes but smiled back. “Fine. You win. But this isn’t just for fun. That guy has some explaining to do.”
The town of Willowtook was alive for the final day of Solstice Celebration Week. Music from flutes and stringed instruments wafted through the streets, mingling with the aroma of roasted nuts and candied fruits. Winter garlands of deep green ivy and frosty blue blossoms adorned storefronts while townsfolk dressed in their finest handmade garments danced and sang under the soft glow of lanterns strung between towering trees. Tourists joined the revelry, their laughter blending with the sounds of celebration.
Haley and Robin navigated through the crowd, their eyes peeled for any sign of Mayor Ironpost. They’d decided on their way into town that their best bet was to confront him publicly—less chance of foul play. Haley doubted their conversation would be pleasant, but she was determined to know the whole story. The festive energy around them felt strangely hollow, a façade masking the tension that pulled at Haley’s gut.
“There he is,” Robin said, pointing to a large wooden stage in the town square.
The mayor stood at the podium, his booming voice carrying over the music. “Together, we’ve transformed Willowtook into a shining example of progress and unity!” he declared with a dramatic gesture timed with a blast of confetti. “With innovation and tradition hand in hand, our future has never looked brighter!”
“Progress,” Haley muttered, her eyes narrowing. “More like exploitation.”
They waited, clapping politely with the rest of the crowd as the mayor concluded his speech and stepped down from the stage. Haley’s pulse quickened as she saw him mingling with the townsfolk, his face lit with a broad, practiced smile.
“Mayor Ironpost!” Haley called out, her voice cutting through the chatter.
The mayor turned, his eyes lighting up with recognition. “Ah, the travel writer!” he exclaimed, extending his hand. “I trust you’re enjoying our festivities?”
Haley shook his hand but kept her expression firm. “The festivities are lovely,” she said. “Though I can’t help but feel there’s more going on here than meets the eye.”
The mayor’s smile faltered for the briefest moment before he composed himself. “I’m not sure what you mean.”
Robin stepped in, crossing her arms as she towered over the dwarf. “We’re talking about the children. And Bangarang. Don’t pretend you don’t know.”
The mayor chuckled nervously, a flicker of annoyance flashing in his eyes. “Ah, yes, our local legends do have a way of captivating visitors. But surely you don’t think—“
“Cut the act,” Haley interrupted, her tone sharp. “We barely escaped from Bangarang, and I’m sure you heard about us finding the missing children.”
For a moment, the mayor froze, his carefully constructed façade cracking. But then he let out a low, humorless chuckle, his expression hardening. “So, it was you who found them,” he said quietly. “I suspected as much. Perhaps this is a conversation best had somewhere private.”
Ironpost led Haley and Robin into his office, his movements brisk but controlled. The room was immaculate, each decorative element precisely placed as if obeying an invisible blueprint. Shelves lined the walls, packed with leather-bound books whose spines gleamed in the firelight, while polished wooden furniture reflected the room’s soft golden glow. Awards and certificates adorned the walls, their frames catching the flicker of the freestanding lamps around the room.
At the center of the desk stood a small crystal model of Willowtook, crafted to the tiniest details of rooftops and winding streets. From below the model, a light shined through—a tribute to the town Ironpost had worked so hard to revive.
The mayor gestured to two chairs. “Please, have a seat.”
Haley ignored the offer, crossing her arms. “We’re fine standing.”
Robin ran her fingers along the edge of a bookshelf, pausing on a plaque that read Community Hero Award.
Ironpost’s practiced smile faltered, but he recovered quickly, seating himself behind the desk. “I can see you’ve come with accusations,” he said. “Let me be clear—whatever you think you know, you don’t understand the full picture.”
Haley shifted her stance. “Then enlighten us. Why are you stealing kids and enslaving Bangarang?”
Ironpost stiffened, his fingers twitching against the desk. “It’s not stealing,” he said defensively. “It’s… it’s ensuring the survival of this town. Their energy—Bangarang’s ability to extract it—is a resource I’ve used to rebuild and sustain Willowtook.”
Robin snorted. “That’s a sanitized way of putting it.”
The mayor stood abruptly, his hands gripping the desk’s edge as he glared at them. “Do you know what Willowtook was like before I became mayor? Abandoned storefronts. Crumbling roads. Families leaving because they couldn’t see a future here. I inherited a town on the brink of collapse!” Ironpost settled himself back into his chair. “But a week before the first winter solstice as mayor, a merchant came to me and told me that the stories of Bangarang were real. He sold me a collar to place him under my control, to fix everything.”
“So you decided to use Bangarang as a quick fix?” Haley asked, her tone biting.
Ironpost expression darkened. “It wasn’t quick. It was a calculated, multiphase plan. Bangarang’s energy gave me the strength to clean up this town—literally. I repaired roads, restored buildings, and organized the first Solstice Celebration to bring people back. The festivals brought in tourism, and tourism brought in money. But none of it would’ve been possible without Bangarang’s help.”
Haley folded her arms. “So, you thought draining kids of their energy was worth it?”
Ironpost hesitated, his eyes darkening. “The merchant told me it would be temporary, that the children would recover after the energy was transferred. I believed them. But after the first solstice… the children were found in the woods.”
Robin frowned, her voice cautious. “Found? What do you mean?”
The mayor’s voice dropped, heavy with guilt. “Drained. Cold. Lifeless. I didn’t know—I didn’t know that would happen. By then, it was too late. The town had started to thrive again. People returned. The streets were alive with music and laughter. How could I…?”
Haley’s voice cut through his rambling. “How could you keep doing it?”
Ironpost’s face twisted with guilt, his voice barely above a whisper. “Because without Bangarang, everything would fall apart. Every year, the town needed more—more repairs, more festivals, more hope. And every year, I told myself it was the last time.”
Robin’s voice rose, sharp with disbelief. “You justified it. Year after year, you let children die for your town.”
Ironpost flinched but didn’t deny it. He gestured weakly to the glowing crystal model of Willowtook on his desk. “Everything good you see out there was because I made the hard choice.”
Haley’s eyes narrowed as she stepped closer. “And now? What’s the plan? Keep going until there’s no one left to sacrifice?”
Ironpost slammed his fist onto the desk, his voice cracking. “It’s not perfect, but it’s working, and the town still needs me. There’s so much left to do.”
Haley shook her head, her voice icy. “You’re not saving this town. You’re stealing its future.”
The mayor sighed, shaking his finger at Haley. “Funny thing. The merchant warned me back then that ‘The Sounds will interfere with your plan.’ At the time, I didn’t understand what they meant. But then I saw that.” He jabbed a finger at Haley’s networker, its musical note pendant glinting in the firelight. “You’re here to unravel everything I built. I can’t have that.”
With a dramatic gesture, Ironpost stood up, raising his hands as she shouted, “Bangarang! Come forth!”
The temperature in the room plummeted as shadows pooled in the corners, writhing like living smoke. Bangarang emerged, their molten gold eyes blazing as they slithered into the room, their presence making the walls groan under invisible pressure.
“I’m not sure how you escaped from them last night, but you won’t this time.” Ironpost pointed at Haley and Robin, his voice brimming with triumph. “Bangarang, absorb their energy!”
But Bangarang didn’t move. Their piercing gaze shifted to Haley, then back to the mayor.
“What are you waiting for?” Ironpost shouted, his face reddening.
Bangarang spoke, their voice deep and resonant. “Your hold over me is broken.”
Ironpost stumbled back, his mouth opening and closing like a fish gasping for air. “No… That’s impossible!”
Haley crossed her arms, smirking. “Sorry. I forgot to mention that we also destroyed that collar around Bangarang’s last night.”
Ironpost staggered back, his face a mix of shock and horror. “No… You don’t understand. Without Bangarang, this town will fall apart!”
Bangarang tilted their head, their tone calm but firm. “The foundation you’ve built is strong. I can see this town prospering. But you.” Bangarang turned back to the mayor, their molten eyes narrowing. “You stole from me. You stole from them. And now, you will face the consequences.”
In a single fluid motion, Bangarang lunged at Ironpost. Shadows enveloped the mayor as he screamed, his cries muffled by the oppressive darkness. When the shadows receded, neither were there.
Robin sighed as the shadows dissipated. “I know he was terrible, but… it feels wrong, right? Just letting him disappear like that?”
Haley put her arm around her girlfriend. “I’m sure he’ll turn up in the woods like those kids did. Anyway, let’s get out of here.”
The town square pulsed with energy as lanterns of every color swayed in the night breeze, casting warm glows across the crowd. Music floated from every corner, mingling with the laughter and chatter of townsfolk. Strings of lights draped between rooftops and tree branches, flickering like fireflies in the soft evening air, illuminating the lively scene below.
A collective cheer erupted as the first burst of the light show streaked across the sky, exploding into brilliant hues of gold and violet. Haley and Robin stood shoulder to shoulder, watching as a cascade of glowing orbs rained down like shooting stars. The families of the found children by happenstance ran into the couple, profusely thanked them again, and showered them with baked goods.
Despite the awe-inspiring display, a somber undercurrent lingered in the air. Whispers about the mayor’s disappearance spread through the crowd, hushed voices speculating what happened. Still, the people carried on, clinging to tradition and celebration. By dawn, every window and doorway in Willowtook would be lit, ensuring the town’s good fortune for the year ahead.
As the festivities wound down, Haley and Robin made their way to the light rail station. The passenger car hummed softly as it pulled away from the platform, the vibrant town lights fading into the distance. Robin leaned back in her seat, stretching her legs and letting out a contented sigh, while Haley sat by the window, her music player cradled in her hands. She stared at the blur of towering redwoods, their silhouettes fading into the distance. The smell of the goodies the families gifted them tempted Robin, but she was already too full.
Robin then turned her head, noticing Haley’s faraway expression. “What’s on your mind?” she asked, her voice cutting gently through the murmur of the passenger car.
Haley blinked, her fingers tightening slightly around the music player. “Just… had a thought.” She hesitated, her sight lingering on the forest. “Do you remember Francesco?”
Robin tilted her head, curiosity flickering across her face. “The sasquatch? From that abandoned village?”
“Yeah,” Haley said. She turned the music player over in her hands, her thumb brushing the edges of the smooth buttons. “Do you think he met the same merchant as the mayor?”
Robin straightened in her seat, her head tilting as she considered the idea. “Think you got a secret nemesis?” She let out a short laugh, shaking her head. “I doubt it. I mean, what are the odds they both met the same merchant?”
Haley exhaled, the tension in her shoulders easing as she leaned back against the seat. “Yeah,” she said. “You’re probably right.”
As the train raced through the night, Haley pressed the power button on her music player, and the screen went dark. For a fleeting moment, the song “Herald of Darkness” shimmered faintly before the device powered down. She slid the player into her pocket, her fingers lingering on the smooth, cool surface before letting go.
Thank you for reading my short story episode about The Sounds.
As with past stories, I did ask for song suggestions. This round included Bangarang (ft Sirah) Skrillex; and Workingonit – J Dilla.
If you loved this story and want to read more stories, reach out to me on social media @DennisSpielman and let me know. Your kind words help fuel me to create more.
