 My wife, Alicia and I decided to move to a new neighborhood for a change of pace. And I guess we got what we wanted. My first impression of the new place was quiet. Our old house was much closer to the city, and there was always noise. Traffic, people talking, music, dogs barking. I never realized how much it had bugged me until we left. The house the realtor showed us was huge, easily twice the size of our last one. Two stories, a double garage, and a recently renovated kitchen. To be honest, though, the yard was the part that sold me. It was enormous, fenced on both sides for privacy, while the back was open to a forest we were told went on for miles. Alicia and I always dreamed of starting a family, and this seemed like the perfect place. I could already picture myself building a tree house, and maybe a swing set for our future kids to play on. We hardly even needed to discuss it. We both knew this house was meant for us. By the next week we were unpacking boxes into our new home. It felt like a dream come true. One by one, our new neighbors came by to welcome us and drop off food or gifts. They were all so much friendlier than the standoffish loners and drunk college kids that we'd lived near before, and we were ecstatic. Everything seemed so perfect. And then it started to get weird. The last visitor came by while we were in the middle of eating one of the delicious casseroles that had been so kindly dropped off earlier. She was a short, round woman who introduced herself as Marjorie with a strong southern accent. Our conversation started off nice enough. She asked about us and how we were settling in. She sort of reminded me of my own mother, who lived across the country. We were all laughing at one of the many jokes she'd cracked. And she leaned in close with an out-of-place conspiratorial look on her face. Y'all aren't planning on getting any pets, were you? I shook my head. Good. You'd better not. Alicia gave a nervous smile, unsettled just as I was by the sudden change in tone. Why not? Marge looked around as though checking for eavesdroppers, which I found ridiculous. You haven't noticed how quiet it is. She dropped her voice low and there was a quiet urgency to it that made me nervous. I shrugged in response and Marge suddenly locked eyes with me. There was a mad light in her eyes that made me feel like maybe Marge wasn't all there. Listen, bad things happen around here to pets. Any animals really? I tried for a chuckle to defuse the sudden tension, but it fell flat. Marge's gaze sharpened. It isn't funny, boy. You seen any squirrels here, birds? I hadn't. It wasn't unusual. I didn't really pay much attention to the wildlife. But even as I listened, the woods outside were silent. No birds sang in the trees and I couldn't even hear any crickets chirping, which was definitely not normal on a summer night this warm. He doesn't like the animals. Marge said absently. What? Alicia asked, shaking her head. What the hell are you talking about, Marge? I could see Alicia's discomfort in the curl of her shoulders and the shakiness of her voice. Suddenly, I'd had enough of this strange woman coming into my house and scaring us with her paranoia. Thanks for coming by, Marjorie, but I think we'd better get back to our dinner. I made to usher her out the door, but she threw up her hands. Wait. Wait! She looked frantically between us. Please, just let me speak. Just two minutes. I frowned, but didn't move to stop her as she continued talking. Haven't you seen the crom right round here? I shook my hand, but Alicia nodded. It's almost zero, isn't it? Marge nodded. This is one of the safest neighborhoods in the country. We're safe here, because he protects us. I felt a shiver run down my spine, whether it was caused by the topic of discussion or the dropping temperatures outside. I couldn't say. Who, Marge? Alicia asked, her voice almost a whisper. He isn't, he doesn't have a name, no. Marge's words were quick and she stumbled as she spoke. We call him the guardian, if we call him anything at all. Every rational bone in my body screamed at me to throw this mad woman out of my home, but the conviction burning in her eyes was strong enough that I felt I had to hear her out. He doesn't like to be noticed. He stays in the woods mostly, but we, the neighborhood, we have a deal with him. We provide for him and he protects us. I had a question and I wasn't sure I wanted an answer. Provide what? I asked with trepidation. Bones, Marge replied, whispering with a feverish intensity. Any kind, scraps from dinner usually, but the hunters will give him almost everything from their kills, and if you don't give, he takes. That explains why there aren't any animals, I thought Riley. Marge was staring at us, Alicia looked like she was trying to process all of the craziness, but I was just tired. All right, Marge, I said, perhaps not as kindly as I could have. Maybe I'll give this guardian my next wishbone. Marge growled, honest to God, the old woman growled at me. I don't want you to regret moving here. She snapped. I won't, I assured her. She glared at me, then stomped out of the house and slammed the door behind her like a spoiled kid. There were several long moments of silence, then I exhaled loudly. Well, that sure was something, I said. Alicia snorted. Yeah, she's crazy. I hummed an agreement, and we went back to our dinner, which was unpleasantly cold by now. We ate in silence, both thoroughly creeped out by our new neighbor. Not creeped out enough, though, to keep us up. By the time we finished eating, it was almost 11, and a long day of unpacking left us exhausted. We practically collapsed into bed and fell asleep immediately. I dreamed that night, but I forgot about what as soon as I woke up. There was just a lingering sense of unease, the kind that made me want to check under my bed for monsters like I was a child again. I chalked it up to a new house and ghost stories on the brain. I didn't mean anything. The next day went the same as the one before. We didn't have much to unpack, so it was quick work, but I enjoyed daydreaming about what we could do with the house as I set up furniture. This one could be the nursery, I said, pointing out a small bedroom next to ours. Alicia grinned at me. I was overjoyed by the new house and all the possibilities that came with it. But throughout the day, I couldn't shake a vague sense of fear. I felt like someone, something was watching me, which was ridiculous. There was hardly anyone around. I kept sparing furtive glances over my shoulder anyway, making sure that nothing lurked in the dark doorways. I fell into a kind of trance as I worked, and it was broken only by the grumble of my stomach. As I came back to the real world, I noticed that the sun was starting to set, streaking the sky red and orange. I'd been working for longer than I'd planned, and it was a good few hours past dinner time now. I found Alicia downstairs cleaning the bathroom. She'd done the same thing as me and was surprised by how late it was. We both quickly agreed not to bother cooking. We were exhausted and starving now that we paid attention. I volunteered to pick up some fried chicken. It wasn't a hearty home-cooked meal, but it was food, and that's all I really wanted. We ate like starved beasts around the kitchen table, shoveling down handfuls of fries and gnawing the chicken wings right down to the bones. The bones. Alicia and I seemed to have that thought at the same time, because we both looked at the small, neat pile of bare chicken bones destined for the compost bin. Should we? Alicia started. I'm a rational man. I don't believe in ghost stories, but there was something, some inexplicable urge that told me I needed to listen to Marge. Maybe it would make Alicia, hell and me feel better. If nothing else, at least it would fertilize the grass a little. I nodded at her and we finished our dinner with little conversation. Once the table was cleared, I gathered the fragile bones in my hands and headed to the back door. When I followed at my heels, we didn't say a word as we left the house and walked through the backyard towards the treeline. The sun was almost completely down, bathing everything in an inky blue light. The quiet of the woods and the thick heat in the air felt oppressive like it trapped any words I might have said inside my mouth. I got the feeling that this was a ritual meant to be completed in silence. As we reached the bases of the first towering pines, the unofficial marker of where our property ended and the wilderness began, I knelt almost reverently and placed the bones in a small pile on the ground, sheltered in a hollow between two tree roots. They glowed a milky off-white in the fading dusk. Then we turned and walked back to the safety and light of our home. We didn't look back, not even when we felt the presence of something watching us, unseen gaze boring into our backs and certainly not at the soft crackle of branches and leaf litter. Whatever was out there, I had no desire to lay eyes on it. We kept our eyes forward until we were safely inside with the door locked behind us. Once inside, I sagged against the wall and let out a harsh breath. Adrenaline was pulsing through my veins and my heart pounded. For no reason at all, I felt a deep terror. I was a crone man reduced almost to hysterics by a spooky story in some broken branches. From the looks of it, Alicia felt the same way. What the hell was that? Alicia panned. I just shook my head. I didn't know and I didn't want to find out. We slept better that night, strangely, and the next day the weird paranoia I'd been feeling had disappeared. I didn't want to believe that it was related to Marge's story, but I couldn't help seeing the connection, an uneasy feeling when we didn't provide any bones which vanished as soon as we did. Alicia and I settled into a routine after a little while. We left bones out a couple times a week and while they were always gone by morning, we never saw or heard anything unusual. Honestly, there was no proof at all that anything lurked out in those woods other than the feeling of being watched that I got whenever I went near the forest. It was entirely possible that we were just paranoid idiots being pranked by our neighbors. Well, until last night. The day had been perfectly normal. Alicia and I both started our new jobs by this point and after work we'd made ourselves some damn good ribs on the barbecue. Once we finished eating, we dropped the bones off at the tree line, a process which was a lot less terrifying now than it used to be. We fell asleep a few hours later. I woke up to a horrible noise. To my tired brain, it sounded like the world was ending. Then it came again a few seconds later and I was able to place it as an animal screeching. I sighed and got up to close the window knowing that I probably wouldn't get much more sleep. Then something much, much larger than a typical woodland creature slammed into the side of the house, rattling the windows and my heart stopped in my chest. David? Alicia asked sleepily from behind me. What the hell was that? I didn't answer. Just crept towards the open window. Something screamed again, high and loud and terrifyingly close. I wasn't sure I wanted to see what was out there. I heard another scream, this one unmistakably human and in pain. I'm calling 911. Alicia whispered into the gloom. I grabbed the edge of the window sill and slowly, carefully moved so I could see out the window. I immediately wished I hadn't. The first thing I noticed was a man's face, not even two feet from my own, which is unnerving to see from the second story. He was dangling from a piece of vinyl siding, his face contorted in pain. Of what I could see of it, at least, he was wearing a ski mask that obscured most of his features. It occurred to me in a disconnected way that he was probably trying to break into our house. I was immediately distracted from that startling realization by what I noticed next. My brain processed it in pieces, snapshots, long thin claws sunk deep into flesh, an inhuman skull with a mouth of misshapen teeth bared in a grin. A too large figure with limbs bent in places, there should be no joints. I bit back a scream. This beast was enormous, tall enough to reach my window if it stood, but right now it seemed preoccupied with ripping the would be criminal from the side of my house. Its claws were each easily the length of my forearm, wickedly sharp and slick with blood. As I watched, the creature slashed downwards, claws tearing through the man's skin like paper, and he howled in agony. I was frozen. Neither side deserved my help, but I couldn't just stand there. I heard sirens in the distance, and I prayed that they would arrive soon. The creature had clearly heard them too. It tilted its head to the side in an eerily human gesture, then reared up on two legs. For a moment, I was looking at it face to face, a deer skull with empty rotted eye sockets and teeth too sharp to be a deer's, an enormous rack of antlers jutted out from its head. Despite the fact that this thing was made of dead and decomposing parts, I could tell that there was something alive in there. It was looking at me. Then the scene lit up with red and blue flashing lights. As the police arrived, the creature dropped down, grabbing the burglar in a crushing grip against its gaping ribcage. It spared me a final glance, then shambled off to the forest on three legs. I heard the man's whimpers fade into silence. I didn't move a muscle until the police came looking for me. They took a statement and investigated the side of my house, which looked like it had been hit by a truck. I floated through the whole ordeal. I knew they wouldn't find any evidence of foul play, and I was right. At the end of the day, they declared that I'd witnessed an attack by a wild animal. They also heavily suggested that I was hallucinating. I knew what I saw, though. There was something living in those woods, some creature made of bones and dead things. For better or worse, we were under its protection.