He watched the man, the one he latched his anchors to, talking to another man. The tripod, with its silver frame, drew attention to the camera. It seemed to be pointed at the man he had hoped to harvest. The man got up and went inside.
He watched the other man, who remained where he was seated, for some time. He could not send his anchors yet as he could not tell what might happen after so he observed. The man seemed to be taking notes and pondering. After minutes with barely anything happening, he turned his attention elsewhere.
He moved positions to get a better view. At first he thought it was just the lights playing tricks, but now he could see it clearly. A broken truck sat in front of the house. He noted how it seemed to lean sideways, towards him, and some windows, including the windshield he noticed earlier, were cracked. His eyes scanned the front of the house, including the other car to his left but did not find anything that could explain what happened to the truck.
How did that come to be like that?
There was very little going on, both inside the house and outside. He could see another man through the windows but was not clear on what he was doing. His previous target briefly spoke with the man and left for a bit. He came back after with a glass of water.
Where he was, he could barely see through the right side of the house through its windows, but he guessed it was the kitchen. The smell of something frying, a mix of vegetables and some seasoning, was stronger where he was than when he was still approaching. He would also periodically see an outline of a woman moving back and forth.
Not wanting to raise anything he could not handle, he sent one anchor towards the man in the porch. Normally, he would swarm a target, but one was enough just to get a feel for things. He detected doubt, anxiousness, and hope. He noticed how the emotions seemed to be leveled out, like they were in equal measures. No feeling was stronger than the other.
Guarded, eh?
He had met people like the man on the porch and never liked them. They were either suspicious people, or old people. Or both. The kind that bored him. He sent his anchor inside, through the wall, towards the kitchen.
Now it’s interesting…
Fear, worry, helplessness, and confusion. The fear was only eclipsed by an overwhelming amount of worry. This puzzled him. He guessed that the person he was feeling was the woman whose figure he kept seeing pass the window which, he further deduced, was the wife. The man he targeted days ago did not have any hint of cruelty or feelings of being overly dominant, something he had long associated with fearful wives. If a wife worried, it’s either for the children, or the husband, or both.
What are you afraid of?
Directing his feeler towards the man he was seeing through the window, he felt anxiousness, pain, and annoyance. From experience, he knew not to dwell on the mix but focus on the strongest one and this person was highly anxious.
He felt another set of emotions, almost conflicting with the person he was trying to read and decided to move his anchor to one side and see if he could read better. As he could not see his previous target anymore, he assumed it was him. He was proven right.
The man was oozing protective vibes while simultaneously riddled with other feelings, most of which mirrored his wife’s.
He sent his anchor forward, his estimate of the size of the house guiding him. He noted two other distinct sets of emotions, in stark contrast with each other. He drew on what he remembered from several nights ago and guessed there were two children in the house, one at least a few years younger than the other.
Letting his lone anchor roam free, he started to piece together what he had gathered and tried to paint a picture. When he considered that the husband and wife’s feelings were not separate, he raised an eyebrow.
They’re afraid of… that thing? Shit!
He felt uncomfortable as he entertained the thought. It was something he had long dismissed as just stories but feeling all the emotions the family had to offer, and his experience just nights before, the concept, the existence of otherworldly beings, supernatural beings, was the only explanation he could turn to.
The only way to try his guess was to see if the feelings survived. Terror was something he specialized, after all. At some point, a person’s mind cannot stop worrying about something that keeps happening, regardless in what situation they were in. He decided to flood the area with feelings of calmness. The ring glowed a yellow glow, the glow got stronger as he slowly increased the intensity.
What?
He panicked momentarily as the man on the porch immediately got up and looked around. The man looked in the general area where he was, and seemed to be staring. He withdrew his one anchor and latched it on the man, pumping him with comforting feelings. The man made the sign of the cross and went in.
So, that’s why, huh?
He concentrated on enveloping the entire house with the feel he wanted them to experience. He first sent his anchor towards where he felt the children were and noticed a decrease on the negative readings he had earlier.
Hmmm, do you, or do you not know?
He decided to have his anchor latch on the to the father next and measure his reaction next. His anchor would not move.
The hell?
The possibility of the creature finding his anchor again loomed large in his head and he started to panic. He willed the anchor back but it would not obey. It was stuck. He was tempted to send a swarm in order to engage Vein Sight but was not keen on the idea. He dismissed the anchor instead and removed the vibe he cast around the house.
A puzzling feeling swept over him. He got a read on whatever was holding his anchor in place – intense curiosity, and defensiveness. The last one was orders of magnitudes stronger than what he felt from the father.
Even more puzzling was a feeling he got just before his anchor was dismissed. He felt seen.