Author’s note: This story is heavily inspired by Resident Evil and Five Nights at Freddy’s, as well as my own submechanophobia and love for abandoned locations. I hope you enjoy what has been written so far, and look forward to more in the future.
EILEEN'S NIGHTMARE
Eileen Rally was deep underwater. It was pitch black and cold. Very cold.
She was swimming in the dark, trying to find the surface or trying to find land, when she saw something moving. It was a machine. Not an animal or another living thing, but a piece of equipment. A cold machine that's been set in motion, and will stop for nothing.
The machine terrified her. She could hear the muffled grinding of its moving parts in the water. She didn't want to get close to it... but it was pulling her in. She tried to swim away, but it was too close. The grinding grew louder, and she could see gears and pistons moving fast as she was sucked towards the machine.
She began to panic as loose pieces of her clothing got caught on the moving parts. She struggled and pushed against the cold, rough metal, but the machine didn't care. Its gears and pistons moved ceaselessly as one of her toes got too close to a piston and the skin peeled right off in a plume of blood.
Her consciousness faltered as she fell into the cold embrace of steel jaws grinding and twisting her legs into odd angles, the bones snapping like twigs and bursting through the skin. She felt intense pain in the dark water as the gears ground up her legs and then her pelvis, pulling her in further and further.
She was not being eaten by a predator. She was simply in the way.
She screamed, and water filled her lungs.
*********
VAN
Eileen woke up with a start in the back of the van. To her relief, she didn't actually scream in reality, as this would have disturbed the relative quiet of the van in the wee hours of the morning as it cruised down the highway. Wes and Randy probably would have given her shit for it, and Sinclair... well, who knows. He probably would have suggested a good shrink, or something.
While she didn't scream, Eileen did groggily notice that she had drooled all over her left hand. She hastily tried to wipe it off on her pants, but they were nylon, so it just kind of smeared the saliva around on her hand more. She gave up and just wiped it on the cloth seat of the van.
She then looked up... and her eyes met with Wes'. He had been staring at her the whole time.
"I, uh... thought you were asleep," Eileen said in a whisper from not talking for so long. She cleared her throat.
Wesley Helix grinned. "I was... about half an hour ago."
"How long were you... watching?" She asked.
Wes leaned back in his seat and played with a fraying flap of cloth on the ceiling, still grinning like an idiot. "Don't worry... I didn't see nothin'," he replied.
Not convinced at all and more than a little embarrassed, Eileen flopped her chin into her now drool-free hand and stared out the window.
"I wish I was at home, catching up on Buffy," she lamented.
"That show's still going?" Wes asked. "I thought it ended last year."
"Nope," Eileen said. "Still going strong. What about you? What have you been watching lately? Oh, that's right — "
She started snapping her fingers.
"You're watching that new show, um, um... The Normanos?"
"The Sopranos," Wes corrected. "Yeah, it's on HBO. I'm paying out the ass for it, but it's worth it."
"What's it about?"
There was a loud snore to her right. Randy was sound asleep, drooling on his hand.
"Looks like you're not the only one," Wes mumbled.
"What's that?" Eileen said sharply.
Wes grinned. "Nothing."
The van passed a large, old billboard that was in tatters. They turned left onto a dirt road, passing a tall, rusty gate overgrown with weeds. There was a broken chain and padlock lying in the grass nearby. It was hard for the occupants of the van to make out these details in the dark, but they were there. Everything that is there during the day is there at night, too.
They hit a hole in the road, jolting the vehicle, which in turn woke up Randall Carson.
"Mmh, we there yet?" He said, wiping his hand on his vest.
"Not yet, Sleeping Beauty," Wes replied.
"Oohhhhhh shit," Randy moaned, stretching. "That was a good nap."
"We could tell," Eileen said, looking down at his hands, and then back to his face.
Randy rolled down the window, and then lit a cigarette.
"Man, I thought you quit," Wes said.
"I tried," Randy said, taking a long drag and blowing it out the window. He ran his fingers through his shaggy, greasy hair. "Guess it's just who I am."
"That shit'll kill you sooner or later," Wes said. "Plus, I hear it tanks your sperm count," he added, sticking out his tongue and jabbing Randy in his thigh.
"Man, fuck you," Randy choked out, fending off Wes's fingers.
"So," Eileen said, wanting to divert the subject away from death and sperm counts, "what do we know about this place?"
"Eh, it's some amusement park in the boonies," Wes said, adjusting the shoulder strap of his knife. "Guy named Matterhorn had it built ten years ago, trying to cash in on Disney's booming business. He wanted to make his park different by having it near the Everglades. Only problem was, even though it was obvious, they built the park on top of a damn swamp. The whole thing sunk into the swamp a few years back and they closed the place down. Or something like that."
"That's not what I heard," said Randy. He took a long drag on his cigarette and looked Eileen square in the eyes.
"I heard... IT'S A CONSPIRACY," he said, smoke billowing out of his mouth.
"What?" Wes said, incredulously.
Randy returned to staring out the window. "I dunno, I read something on the internet about weird science experiments that were conducted there. Turned everyone into monkeys or something."
"That sounds like something you saw in a movie," Wes replied.
"Or was it vampires?" Randy said, ignoring him.
"Also sounds like a movie."
"Soylent Green?"
"That's ACTUALLY a movie!"
"That's what the government WANTS you to think, man!" Randy said, poking himself in the temple and looking at Wes wide-eyed.
"BOYS!" Eileen cried. "Conspiracy or not, you shouldn't believe everything you read on the internet, Randy."
"Man," Randy said, returning to the window, "look, all I'm sayin' is — "
Just then, the van came to a halt. There was a knock on the wall from the cab, and then a muffled voice:
"We're here, ladies! Get your purses and let's go!"
*********
LION
Eileen stepped out of the van into the cool, Autumn breeze and stretched, her boots immediately moistening with dew in grass that came up to her knees.
They were parked on a large, flat plane with tall posts sticking out of it every so often. It took Eileen a moment to notice that there were lights on top of the posts, and the plane was a parking lot. She looked down through the grass and realized she was standing on asphalt, cracked and puckering up with age and neglect. Ahead, there was a dirty sign that read "PARKING LOT A". Beyond it was a strange structure Eileen found it difficult to wrap her head around at first. She stared at it for a few moments before realizing what it was: A massive, cartoon alligator head with its mouth open, big enough to drive a car through, protruding from a wall that had been painted to blend in with the nature around it. There was a sign above the gator head, but it was covered in too much moss and mold to read.
Randy and Wes filed out behind Eileen, still arguing about government conspiracies.
Their fearless leader, Adrian Sinclair, got out of the driver's side of the van and approached. He was wearing sunglasses, even though it was the middle of the night, and an ascot over a khaki vest and shorts.
"You folks ready for some F-U-N?" He said.
"Does it involve beeswax?" Randy asked, and shuddered. "I still remember the soap factory job..."
"No, no, nothing like that," Sinclair replied, busily gathering blueprints and sketches out of the cab of the van and stacking them on the hood. "We're just starting with a survey tonight, and then we'll take a rest and begin the real work in the morning after Peter arrives with the equipment."
"But it's already morning," Wes said. "It's after 1AM."
"Fine," Sinclair said, dropping a huge stack of papers on top of a taller stack on the hood, "then later this morning. LION!"
Out of context, it might seem like Sinclair had just yelled "LION!" at the end of his statement for no reason, but in fact, he was calling the nickname of another member of their crew, who was approaching from the passenger side of the van, carrying bundles of small, colored flags and notepads.
"That's my name, don't wear it out," Lionel "Lion" Hartman said as he strolled up. Lion had been in the demolition business longer than any of them, and was due to retire soon. He was an expert with explosives, and had two kids and a wife back home.
"Did you bring the thing?" Sinclair asked.
"Yeah, I brought the thing," Lion replied.
"What thing?" Randy asked, still sitting in the van, his arms propped up between two headrests.
"Randy, get your ass out here!" Sinclair bellowed. "We've got work to do, man!"
"What thing?" Randy repeated, hopping out of the van.
"This thing." Lion held out a thin, black, electronic device that was a little bigger than his hand. "It's a satellite phone," he explained. "If we get into trouble out here, we can call for help."
"It's dark..." Eileen muttered, peering at the phone. "Couldn't you have gotten one that would be easier to see in an emergency?"
Lion sighed. "I had the same thought. They had a yellow one, but it was out of stock."
"Let me see that," Randy said, taking the phone from Lion. He examined it curiously. "Would ya mind if I held onto this? I took a telecom class in college."
"You... went to college?" Lion asked, incredulously.
"Hey man," Randy said, stuffing the phone into one of the front pouches on his vest. "I might sound dumb sometimes, but I got a certificate for almost finishing a semester at my community college!"
"Wait a minute, wait a minute..." Wes said, shaking his head and holding up his hands. "What kind of trouble would we get into here? This place is abandoned... right?"
"Well, yes," Sinclair said, his arms full of rolled up blueprints. "But it's been abandoned for several years. Who knows the condition of the property inside? Plus, we could be attacked by wildlife."
"Wildlife?!?" Randy said, spewing liquid everywhere from a drink he had seemingly summoned from thin air. "You mean like jaguars?"
"Yes," Sinclair said, wiping his sunglasses with his ascot. "Like jaguars."
"No, I think he means panthers," Wes said. "We aren't going to find any jaguars in Florida except the ones old folks spend their pension on."
"Yes, right, sure, whatever," Sinclair said dismissively. "The point is that we need to be aware of any predators that might want us as a midnight snack."
"And that's why we have these babies!" Lion exclaimed, holding up a handgun.
"Whoa, man!" Randy held up his hands. "A gun?"
"The Ruger P95," Lion said proudly. "I ordered one for each of us like you asked, boss."
"Good work, Lion," Sinclair replied, already looking over blueprints.
"What do we need a damn gun for?!" Randy yelled. "I didn't sign up to get my ass shot!"
"Don't worry," Sinclair said, waving his hand distractedly, his attention still on the blueprints. "I'm sure we won't even use them. It's just a precaution."
"Yeah," Lion said reassuringly, "They're just in case we get attacked by an animal or, heaven forbid, a person. Just self defense. I brought two magazines for each of us."
"Two?" Wes asked.
"Yeah, I dunno..." Lion said. "In case we get attacked by a bear or somethin'. It's the in-case for the in-case."
"I think we're going to need a lot more than handguns to take down a bear, real good thinkin' there, Lionel," Randy said sarcastically.
"Whatever, man, the mags were cheap!" Lion said defensively.
"Knock it off, you two," Sinclair said. "Everyone gather 'round."
They gathered around the hood of the van. Sinclair had maps and blueprints of the park laid out.
"Our entry point is here, at the entrance to the park," he said, pointing to a bold, blue line circled in red ink. "That's just up ahead, over there." He pointed away from the front of the van to the dark mouth of the gator.
"That tunnel," he continued, "will lead us to a gate. The gate will be chained shut, but luckily for us, I came prepared."
He hefted a pair of bright red bolt cutters onto the hood.
"Once we get inside," Sinclair said, "we'll still only be in the pre-registration area. Solid, metal doors bar entry into the park, and they can only be opened by restoring power. We'll head for the substation, here."
He jabbed another point on the map circled in red ink.
"With the power back on, we'll divvy up the flags, measuring tapes, levels, what have you. Capisci? Let's go."
*********
POWER
The gator head was in much worse condition than it had appeared from far away. The plaster had fallen off in many places, revealing a metal framework underneath, and the paint was badly faded from the scorching Florida sun. Rusted rebar poked out from the gator's nostrils like nose hair.
Flashlights bobbed in the darkness as the crew entered the tunnel. Water dripped onto them from above like a light rain. Eileen looked up and saw there were openings in the ceiling where light would have come through in the daylight. There would be moonlight coming through now, except the top of the tunnel had become too choked with vines and tree branches.
Eileen was so caught up in the ceiling that she jumped when Randy let out a yelp.
"AIEEE!" He cried.
Everyone's lights lit him up like a spotlight — and the bizarre sight before him.
It was a cartoon gator, the same one that had greeted them at the entrance to the tunnel. Except this one was much smaller with a full body. At least, what was left of it. Much of the face had fallen away, exposing a stainless steel endoskeleton and electrical wiring. It had been badly vandalized, the right arm twisted and broken, hanging loosely at an odd angle by its side. It wore human clothing, but the clothes were moldy and torn. A sign next to the animatronic read, "HI, I'M GARY GATER, THE ALLIGATOR! WELCOME TO A LAND OF PURE FUN AND AMAZEMENT: FUNGLADES AMUSEMENT!"
"Fucker scared me," Randy mumbled. Wes chuckled.
There was a metallic screeching sound from further ahead as Sinclair pushed the gate open.
"Come on," he said, pulling out one of his maps. "Substation's this way."
***
The pre-registration area was dirty, but otherwise looked nearly like it had been open yesterday. They walked through a courtyard with a customer service desk and yet another Gary Gater figure, this time a statue. They then proceeded onto a paved path with gift shops and restaurants. All of the outlets were shuttered tight.
The path finally dumped them out into a large, open courtyard where ticket lines were organized. There were a number of turnstiles leading into the park, but just as Sinclair had said, beyond the turnstiles were a set of tall, steel doors that looked like they were probably very thick and very heavy. There was no obvious way around them, and they were far too tall to climb. The park was effectively sealed close.
"So, where's this substation?" Eileen asked.
"Through that door," Sinclair said, pointing to a pale door to their right that blended with the wall it was on.
The door was surprisingly unlocked, and it put them in a narrow passageway to another door marked "POWER CONTROL NE".
"What's the 'NE' mean?" Asked Wes.
"It's the Northeast power control room," Sinclair explained. "There are four power generators, one for each quarter of the park. That's how big it is. Plus, it acts - or, acted - as sort of a failsafe in case of emergency. They could turn off the power in one part of the park without affecting other parts."
"So, turning on the power here won't power up the whole park," Randy said. "We'll have to hike it to the other power rooms to get in business."
"Right," Sinclair said, nodding.
Sinclair opened the door into a dusty shack with a low ceiling and dingy, army green control consoles with buttons, knobs, sliders and switches.
"This isn't going to be like switching on the kitchen light..." Lion muttered.
"No worries," Sinclair said, strolling over to one of the panels. "I've studied all the schematics to this place, and I know it like the back of my hand. I can get it running."
However, after tinkering with the largest console for a few minutes, Sinclair was left scratching his head.
"That's odd," Sinclair said, looking at one of his schematics. "It should be getting power from the - Oh, wait. I see."
"What's wrong?" Eileen asked, walking up to the panel. Machines and technology piqued Eileen's curiosity. She was currently pursuing a degree in engineering.
"Nothing's wrong," Sinclair replied. "It's another part of the park's failsafe system. There are actually two inputs required in order to restore power. One of them is here, and the other is across the courtyard in a junction box. But they both have to be done at the same time."
He turned to the others, his eyes illuminated in the blue moonlight streaming through the window.
"Any volunteers?"
"Fuck it," Randy said, and walked to the door, switching on his radio.
"It's a green, metal box on the wall by the gate," Sinclair called after him, switching on his own radio. "You can't miss it."
***
"I'm here," Randy's voice crackled over the speaker. "So I just push up on this switch inside the box?"
"Yes," Sinclair said, "but not yet. We need to do it simultaneously. Ready?"
"Ready."
"On 'go'... 3, 2, 1, go."
Sinclair pushed on his switch, while Randy pushed on his. Eileen jumped slightly as there was a loud *ZAP* and electrical buzz, and sparks flew outside the window of the shack. There was a low thrumming sound as the power was restored to a portion of the park for the first time in years.
However, more sounds followed. A metallic screeching came from the courtyard, and then a thunderous crash.
And then, over the radio, Randy screamed.
*********
BARRICADE
The rest of the crew came running out into the courtyard to find Randy cowering on the ground.
"What is it?!" Sinclair yelled.
"It's just a bunch of junk!" Lion said, and he was right.
Opening the doors had unleashed an assortment of objects from around the park that had been piled up on the other side. There were golf carts, cotton candy and churro stands, computer monitors, a washing machine, a wooden information booth and even a wheeled car from some ride. Everything had spilled out into the courtyard, and Eileen had an uneasy feeling, like they had knocked over someone's tower of cards they had worked very hard on. Or... perhaps a makeshift barricade.
"All that screaming for a pile of crap falling over!" Lion exclaimed. "Pull yourself together, man!"
"Man, it was scary as shit, all that stuff comin’ towards me!" Randy said. "Thought I was gonna be a pancake!"
"Someone was still in the park when it closed," Eileen said, looking at the pile, which was still sizable even after much of it had fallen over. "And they really wanted to block the entrance, even if the doors opened."
"Probably claimed the park as their own," Wes said. "Wanted to keep people out."
"Or," Eileen said, "they wanted to keep something in."
She and Wes exchanged nervous glances. They were all silent for a moment.
"It is pretty strange..." Sinclair mumbled. "But no matter. We've got a job to do!"
"Do you smell that?" Randy said, still the closest one to the pile. "Do you fuckin' smell that?"
"It wasn't me!" Lion said.
"No, it smells like..." Randy trailed off and began climbing the pile.
"Careful," Sinclair said.
When Randy reached the top, he leaned over the edge.
"It's really strong up here," he called. "It smells... it smells like... Oh my God."
Then, he really screamed, a shriek so full of terror and dread it turned Eileen's blood to ice.
Randy disappeared from the top of the pile, down into the park. Although, it didn't look like he had fallen.
It looked like he had been pulled.
*********
SKIN ZIPS
"CARSON! CARSON!" Sinclair was yelling, climbing the pile. They were all climbing. They could all smell it, the word Randy had been trying to spit out:
Death.
They reached the top of the pile, and stopped. The open space before them had a huge willow tree in the center. On the tree, hung human bodies. The corpses swayed from the branches, rotting in the Florida heat. Their skin had been completely removed. More bodies were piled around the base of the tree, and strewn around the area in small piles, like trash or laundry. The entire surface of the pavement was soaked in blood, the tree was soaked in blood, and the surrounding walls and rides were soaked in blood. The street lamps lining the path around the tree, which were lit from the electricity now being on, were also spattered with blood, casting a ghostly red light across the courtyard.
"We shouldn't have come here," Lion said, his voice shaky. "We need to leave, NOW."
Randy let loose another blood-curdling scream, but they couldn't tell where it came from. He sounded like he was quite some distance away. He sounded like he was in pain.
"We can't abandon a member of our crew," Sinclair said, although his voice also quivered as he gazed at the hanging bodies.
"Come on, man!" Lion said, as he began to descend the pile. "We need to get help! This is fucked up! Who knows what other kinda shit is goin' on in this park!"
"R-right, but — " Sinclair stuttered, still staring at the bodies.
"You do what you want," Lion continued, beginning to descend the pile, "but I am- OH SHIT!"
Lion had unfortunately stepped onto an unstable section of the pile. The junk shifted beneath the crew and collapsed, sending them all tumbling down into the bloodbath.
Eileen landed hard on her forearms. She gagged as she smelled the coppery odor of blood, and felt it sticking to her arms. It was warm. These deaths were recent.
The four crew members grunted and groaned as they stood up in the blood.
"Let's get the hell out of here," Sinclair said.
However, as they turned back to the barricade, there was a sudden explosion.
It came from near the power control room. A shower of sparks and a plume of fire and smoke erupted from beyond the wall — and then the demolition crew was plunged into darkness as the street lamps went out.
For a moment, the only sounds were the crew's panicked breaths.
"What the - " Wes began.
But then he was drowned out by a blaring klaxon, and a groaning, scraping sound as the large, steel doors began to close.
"No!" Lion shouted.
He stepped forward, but then jumped as yet another new sound greeted them.
It was a horrible screeching roar, like a feral beast's battle cry resonating from the inside of a metal tube.
Strange monsters crawled from the barricade, like hornets emerging from a kicked nest. They appeared humanoid, with two arms and two legs. Dried, human flesh dangled from their metallic skeletons. Their white, glowing eyes pierced the crew's souls as they bared white, lipless teeth, and the closest one let out another haunting shriek.
The crew was frozen with confusion and fear for just a moment - and then they ran, the creatures bolting after them like starving, feral animals eager for food.
The demolition crew pumped their legs in the darkness, even as their muscles ached and their lungs burned, the only sounds their labored breathing and hurried footsteps on the pavement. They ran and ran, terrified of what was behind them, but they should have been more terrified of what lay ahead.
*********
EILEEN - GATER
"I think... we lost them..."
Eileen and Lion had split off from Sinclair and Wes, and ducked through an employees-only door to lose the bizarre creatures. The door was built into the side of a large, green wall that took them into an alleyway between the wall and a series of buildings. A long silence gave the two crew members the impression they were safe for now.
"What the hell were those things?" Lion said. "They were like animals, but they had human skin that wasn't theirs -- like they had put it on themselves, all loose like. And they were also... "
"Robots," Eileen finished. "I saw the metal and hydraulics, too. But they weren't like any robots I've seen before."
"Well, shit," Lion said, wiping the sweat from his brow. "What do we do now? We lost those monsters, but we also lost Wes and the cap. And the damn phone is with Randy!"
"I know..." Eileen said. "Hmm..."
She looked around. They were in a corridor between the wall and a series of run-down buildings strung together. A tall, metal roller coaster loomed in the distance, silent and still like the rest of the park. Eileen stared at the coaster for a moment before something clicked in her brain.
"We should try to make a signal," Eileen said, and pointed at the coaster.
"I'll bet if we stand up there with some sort of signal, like a bright light or fire, we can get Peter's attention when he gets here in a few hours."
"A signal..." Lion said thoughtfully. "Great thinkin', Ms. Engineer! But what can we use that would stand out enough that he would see it?"
"Well, uh... hm." Eileen paused and tapped her knuckles against her head, something she often did to help her think.
"A flashlight wouldn't be bright enough, and I'm not sure we could make a fire big enough..."
They both stood in silence for a few moments, thinking.
"Fireworks!" Eileen finally shouted. "Every park has fireworks for Fourth of July and New Year's, right? If we can find some fireworks, we could set them off at the top of the incline."
Lion grinned. "You're a genius, you know that? But where do you think we'll find fireworks in all this mess?"
"Dunno," Eileen replied, "Some sort of storage shack? Warehouse? Seasonal Halloween store? I don't know the layout of this park. Maybe the first thing we should do is find a map."
"Well, either way," Lion said, unholstering his handgun and checking the safety. "We should split up. We'll cover more ground that way."
"We're already split up from Sinclair and Wes..." Eileen said. "Shouldn't we stick together?"
"Cap and Wes are on their own," Lion said. "They could be dead, for all we know. But we have a mission now, to find those fireworks and make a signal. This park is way too damn big to search as one. Ya feel me?"
"I suppose..." Eileen said, tapping her knuckles against her head.
"Then it's settled," Lion said. "I'll check these buildings. You go on and see what's up ahead. We'll meet back here if anything crazy happens."
"Crazier than what's already happened?" Eileen muttered.
"Yeah..." Lion said, and then opened the door to a small alley between two of the buildings.
"Eileen — be careful."
And then he was gone.
Still feel like we're safer together, and safety should be more important in the current situation, Eileen thought. Well, whatever. I'd better get going.
***
A short jog down the corridor led to another door, which opened onto a small plaza with trees and benches. There was a fountain in the center, but with the electricity off, it was still. Murky, green water filled the concrete basin.
Eileen hadn't walked very far when she heard a strange noise coming from up ahead on the path, beyond some small buildings. It was a steady clunk and whirr that she had trouble describing as anything other than robotic footsteps.
She paused in the middle of the plaza. The sound was getting closer.
What if it's more of those things?, she thought.
She ducked behind the concrete wall of the fountain and listened as the sound grew ever closer, until whatever it was had clunked its way to the other side of the fountain... and stopped.
Several moments passed, and there was silence. Eileen began to feel nervous. She knew something was there, but it was so quiet. It didn't breathe or mutter or creak or groan. It didn't shift its weight or scratch itself or clear its throat.
It simply stood there, as still as the fountain. Like a machine that had finished its programming.
Eileen lay behind the fountain for several more tense moments until... the machine spoke.
"You're here somewheres," it said. "But I cain't see ya."
It was a synthetic, metallic voice that vibrated Eileen's skull and left a copper taste in her mouth. It had a slight southern, hillbilly accent, and spoke calmly with tact. The voice sounded like it belonged to someone who was kind, but also tired and jaded.
"Why you hidin' from ol' Gater?" The machine continued. "Come on out. I don't bite... hard."
The machine took a few steps around the fountain. Eileen stiffened.
"Well.. " It began walking slowly away, and Eileen relaxed a little.
"If you're shy, I understand. Becomin' part of the family is a big commitment. But don't you worry — "
Suddenly, the voice was directly over Eileen. She nearly screamed, but covered her mouth as she glanced up — It hadn't seen her. She only caught a glimpse of its resin snout, the lower jaw crumbling away and exposing a metal endoskeleton and sharp teeth.
"You're in my park now, little chickie," said Gater. "And everything in my park... belongs to me."
Gater turned away, and Eileen could hear him stomping back in the direction from which he had come.
"For now," he said, as he passed through the archway leading down the path, "I'll leave you to play with my children..."
Eileen heard a shuffling to her right, then her left, and then all around her.
As Gater disappeared into the darkness down the path, several humanoid figures appeared in his wake.
They were approaching Eileen, and they had definitely seen her.