The Dreaded Scent
It was skin prickling, chilly Halloween night. The kind of chill that makes cold seep into your bones at the very second you step outside. Goosebumps scattered across Martha’s skin as she got her son ready for trick or treating with his friends. The bright, chirpy bouncing little boy was wearing a superman costume, the red cape billowing behind him as the nightly breeze harassed the trees and branches on the streets. Screams and cries filled the lamp lit streets as people and children of many sizes walked around in gnarly, devilish costumes, enough to make even the fearless of men think twice before stepping outside.
As she had bid her little one farewell, his cherub-like face shone brightly as he scrambled off with his friend in colorful costumes to collect tonight's sugary stash. As Martha retreated back into the house with her bowl filled with sugary treats for the little ones, she was certain that her little superhero would return safe and sound. However, all hope will soon be lost.
The frequent dinging jingle of the doorbell and children’s high pitched greetings constantly occupied Martha’s night as she bustled about on her hard wooden floor greeting and handing the children their sweet treats.
As that night progressed, the greetings came to a stop, so did the children as the candy bowl sat hollow on the coffee table.With this casualty, Martha knew time was up, and it was getting late. Crickets and owls joined together in a chorus that only themselves knew the words to as the time whisked by. The rhythmic tick of the clock on the wall only seemed to heighten Martha’s fear as her little superhero had not come home yet,the silence loud enough even for her own heartbeat to sing along in her ears with the creatures of the night.
Martha tried to busy herself, certain, her little boy should have came home soon by cutting up his favorite fruits for him to serve as a small healthier treat from all of the candy he should have had on his night out. Suddenly, her hand had slipped, a sharp piercing pain shot through her finger as the sickening smell of copper filled her nostrils. As she hastily cleaned up the blood, a knock came rushing at her wooden door, frantic, jarring her out of her routine. Martha slowly opened the door to reveal a shaken, petrified boy, one of which her son had been with. But there was something missing, it was her son.
Worried, she followed the young boy out into the night, bare foot hitting the wet grass without a care for protective covering as they searched around the neighborhood. Looking for the one hero that seemed to be missing from their team. Minutes turned to hours just how it had done when she was waiting for him as she started to fear what no mother wanted to. Hailing the other boy in her arms, she scrambled in the nearby forest, lights from other people flashing across its eerie, dark and thick branched depths as they all cried out for her lost child.
Martha froze, her heart halting as the dreaded yet grudgingly familiar scent of copper assaulted her nose before the sight did. The scent was strong, too strong and too close. Finally, as she laid eyes upon her lost, cherub boy, mangled within the unforgiving tangles of a rose bush, claws and bite marks littering, torn at the colorful superman costume that one shone brightly with his once bright eyes.
It has been a few days since the tragedy. The cold, unrelenting weather tormented her senses as tears pricked at her eyes just as the cold pricked at her skin. Rain beating down on wet granite as she looked down at the gravestone. A superman action figure placed in memory of her little superhero. Lost, found and never forgotten just like the dreaded scent of copper that haunted her memories, forever.