by Tom Lewis
She turned to him. “Thanks for doing this for me, Justin. It really means a lot.”
He looked at her, and despite her efforts to sound upbeat, her eyes betrayed the fear and sadness she felt. She really was all alone. He gave her hand a squeeze.
“Thank me by getting better.”
****
The sun was setting over the foothills by the time they arrived. Kyle’s town had been built around the coal mines in the early part of the last century and had flourished for decades, but with the closing of the mines, it had become all but a ghost town. Where once-thriving middle-class neighborhoods had enjoyed picnics and cookouts, there now sat graveyards of decayed, derelict houses, closed stores, and dead lawns.
Kyle’s house was in one of the poorer sections of town. Rusted car bodies and unkempt yards littered the neighborhood, and Kyle’s was the worst kept of the lot.
Justin’s car pulled up out front and parked along the curb. He and Cassie glanced out the window at the overgrown grass and trash that had accumulated outside.
“This is it?” Justin asked, and it was clear from his tone he hoped it wasn’t.
Cassie hoped it wasn’t too, but a glance at the text on her phone showed it was. “Afraid so,” she said with a cringe.
They climbed from the car and crossed through the tall grass to the front door. Cassie knocked, then gave it a moment for Kyle to answer.
He never did, so she knocked again.
“He knows we’re coming today, right?” Justin asked.
“Yeah. And that’s his car over there,” she said, nodding to the run-down old car in the driveway.
She knocked again while Justin walked over to the large front window. He cupped his hands around his eyes to see in.
“I don’t see anyone,” he said.
Cassie knocked again, then tested the doorknob. It was unlocked. She glanced at Justin as he strolled back over.
“You’re going in?” he asked.
“Might as well.” She pushed the door open.
An overwhelming stench greeted them as they stepped inside. It was the smell of mold, and rot, and filth, and a look around the living room revealed the source. Throughout the room, flies swarmed over scattered dishes covered with half-eaten meals and spilled drinks. Mold grew from plates, and fast-food containers, and soiled clothes.
“Kyle?” Cassie called out, swatting aside a swarm of flies. She almost choked at the stench. “Kyle? It’s Cassie. I brought a friend.”
No response came.
“I don’t think he’s here,” said Justin.
“Let’s just check.” She crossed the living room to a hallway and looked down it.
“Kyle? You here?”
A door was slightly ajar at the far end. She headed down the hallway to it and tapped on it lightly.
“Kyle. You in there?”
When no answer came, she pushed it open and stepped inside. And froze...
It was Kyle’s bedroom and reeked of soiled clothes and mildew, but what held Cassie frozen in shock were the drawings and photos covering every inch of the walls. They were a glimpse into the madness of a mind that had completely snapped. Each drawing and photo depicted a macabre scene of horror and death. There were decapitations and disembowelments; graves and corpses; maggots borrowing from rotted flesh; mass graves in Nazi death camps; hangings; eyes gorged out; amputations...
And drawings of the Shadow and the Face.
“Ho-ly shit,” Justin exclaimed from behind her, and Cassie nearly jumped. She had been so focused on those images, she hadn’t heard him approach. “What is all of that?”
“It’s what he sees,” she said, still unable to take her eyes off those images. This was the fate that awaited her.
“Do you see any of this?” he asked, and she felt him shudder as the depths of her horror slowly revealed itself to him.
“Just those two right there,” she said, pointing to the drawings of the Shadow and the Face. “But he said I’d start seeing these other things too.”
A slight breeze blew in from an open window somewhere in the house and carried with it a new stench more horrible than the others. It was the smell of death.
Cassie was too entranced to notice, but Justin did. He plugged his nose and followed the stench across the hallway. Moments later, he called to her.
Cassie walked from the bedroom and found Justin standing in the open doorway to a bathroom. He was staring across the room at the closed shower curtains, splattered with something dark. And he assumed it was blood.
Cassie stepped past him into the bathroom, drawn to those curtains like someone in a trance. “Maybe you shouldn’t look,” she barely heard him say, but she knew she had to.
As she approached the curtains, the only sounds were the pulse of blood in her ears and the steady drone of flies.
She took hold of the shower curtains and slowly slid them aside...
Kyle’s dead body lay in the tub with a shotgun still clutched in his hands. The shot had taken off the entire top of his head, splattering brains and skull fragments over the walls and curtains.
She just stood there frozen, still gripping the shower curtains in her clenched fist. Unable to move or think. Kyle had been her hope, and this had been his fate.
And it would soon be her fate.
Justin set his hand on her shoulder, and she snapped from her daze. She sprang backward from the horror in that shower, and began screaming hysterically.
****
It took a little over fifteen minutes for the police to arrive, and maybe another hour for someone from the coroner’s office.
Cassie sat on the lawn out front and just stared at the tall grass. Staring, but not seeing. Her mind was numb with the dreadful morose of a hope that had been raised and then shattered. This was what the death of hope felt like.
Justin spoke with the police on the nearby carport. Bits and pieces of their conversation floated Cassie’s way. Why had they been there? Had they touched the body? Had they disturbed anything? Justin did his best to explain, and a quick search of Kyle’s room revealed a severely disturbed mind. Foul play wasn’t suspected. The officer handed Justin his card and nodded toward Cassie. “You should probably get her home.”
They shook hands, then Justin walked over to Cassie and sat down beside her. He gently laid his arm across her shoulder.
“Hey,” he said softly. “Let me take you home.”
She trembled.
“Don’t let that guy worry you, Cass. You’re not him. You and I are gonna figure something out.”
“It’s not just him,” she shivered and sniffed back a tear. “It’s everyone that thing went after. They’re all dead.”
“Except you. You’re not dead. And you’re not gonna be dead. Not by that thing.”
She turned to him, and her eyes were filled with hopelessness and fear. It was the desperate, horrific look of someone who had seen the doom that awaited her and was powerless to stop it. The anticipation of a slow descent into madness and agony, to be followed by a violent end.
She choked back a deep, agonized sob and just shook her head. “I don’t know what to do anymore.” It was the most pitiable, desperate plea for help a human soul could muster. So alone in her misery, and completely devoid of hope.
He wrapped his arms around her, and she sank her head into his chest. His mind raced through scenarios. He had seen what medical science had to offer, and it was a joke. More drugs? More therapy sessions? He saw one possibility for hope. It was a long shot; but it was a chance.
“I think I know someone who might.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
Believe
Waves splashed against the serene New England shore. The air was crisp and fresh, and the cool salt spray tickled Sean’s arms as he strolled along the water’s edge.
Down the shore stood Amy, gazing out over the ocean. Golden sunlight painted softly across her hair as it tossed gently in the breeze, and the sight of her took his breath away.
This was her. This was his Amy.
She turned to him with a smile as he approached.
“Remember this place?” she asked.
He looked around and nodded. A smile touched his lips. “Our first date. We were looking for crabs.”
“And you saw that octopus in the tide pool.”
His smile widened. “I remember that.”
“It became my favorite place after that day,” she said. “Like so many of the places we shared.”
“They were mine too.”
He was still smiling, but a sadness was taking over.
“I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you, Amy.”
Her eyes met with his, and she shook her head. “You were with me, Sean,” she said in a voice that was soft and loving. “All those moments we shared together — every sunset, and mountain, and star — you were with me every time I thought of them.”
A thick lump was filling his throat. “It was still a mistake becoming a priest. I should have stayed with you.”
She again shook her head. “You had to, Sean. It’s like those creeks we used to wade through, and how they would flow into streams then out to sea. That’s how our lives are. We can’t always control where the current is going to take us, but it takes us where we need to be. And everything you were, everything that’s ever happened to you, all of it led you here. And this is where God needs you.”
At the mention of God, Sean’s face went slack. He let out a deep sigh. “I don’t know if I believe that anymore.”
Amy reached over and took his hand. Her skin was so soft and smooth, and her eyes sparkled warmly as they looked into his. “You need to let yourself believe, Sean.” And then she turned toward the ocean. “Look out there.”
He followed her gaze. “Now open your heart,” she said, “and I want you to really see it.” He did, and it was like he was seeing it for the first time — this sparkling marvel of beauty and mystery that flowed into eternity beyond the horizon. “Can you look at that, and still not believe?” she said and watched his hard look of bitterness and frustration slowly melt into serenity.
And she smiled. This was her Sean again. The boy she had fallen in love with that warm summer day so long ago.
“Cassie’s going to need you, Sean,” she said.
He turned to her. “She has her doctor.”
Amy shook her head. “He can’t help her. She’s going to come to you soon, with no other hope, and you need to be the Sean I fell in love with.”
She turned to him, and took his hands, and he could have melted in the warmth of her eyes.
“Believe, Sean.”
Sean awoke with Amy’s final words playing in his mind. It was morning, and colorful sunlight warmed the room through his curtains.
He lay there a moment and didn’t want to let go of the dream. He had been there with her, and it had felt so real. The warmth of the sun and cool ocean spray. And the softness of her skin as she held his hand. He could even smell the...
Sean sat up. There was a subtle scent in his room that instantly triggered memories of afternoons in parks and strolls on the shore. It was the scent of Amy’s perfume, Chanel No. 5. And it came from somewhere in his room.
He rose from bed and searched his room for the source of the fragrance. It was on his desk that he finally found it. Amid the books and ungraded test papers sat a sheet of paper he had never seen before. It had a single word written on it, and he knew that handwriting from so many letters he had read while in Afghanistan.
It was Amy’s handwriting, and it said:
“Believe.”
****
The church bells toned from the tower high above St. Matthew’s Church. Beyond it lay a sky of dull gray clouds, and a thin mist hung close to the ground from the overnight rain.
Justin and Cassie sat in his car in the parking lot out front and watched Father Sean greet parishioners on the lawn outside the church.
She’d been hesitant to the idea of talking to Father Sean when Justin first suggested it, and as she watched the parishioners trail past, she wondered if any of them had the sordid stories to tell that she had. She was sure priests heard bizarre things during confession, but hers were beyond bizarre. And to make things worse, she would have to see him in class every week.
But if there was even a chance he could help her, and Justin thought there was, then screw her pride. She would tell him everything.
“You ready?” Justin asked from the driver’s seat, watching her wring her hands into knots. She gave a hesitant nod.
“I think so.”
“You’ll do fine. Just make sure you tell him everything.”
“I know. I know,” she grumbled. “But he’s going to think I’m a freak.”
“No. He won’t. Just trust me, okay.” He gave her hand a squeeze.
“Okay.”
They climbed from the car. As she started to step away, a tense vertigo struck her. She tumbled back against the car.
“Cass?” he rushed around to her side and helped steady her. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah. Just a little dizzy.”
“Take as much time as you need.”
She nodded, but a strange tension was building within her. It was more than the butterflies and nerves she had felt moments ago. Something dark and unsettling was coiling inside her like a giant serpent, prepared to strike at any intrusion to its lair.
“Cass?” she heard Justin say, and she opened her eyes. She hadn’t realized they were shut till then. She clenched her teeth.
“Maybe we should do this another time,” he said.
“No,” she said. “It’s not gonna let me come back.” Her eyes met his. “It knows we’re here, and it’s pissed. We need to do this now.”
“Okay. We’ll do it.”
“Will you hold my hand?” she asked.
“Of course.” He took her hand, and they began walking toward the church.
“Whatever I say, don’t let me leave. Okay?”
“Okay.”
Together they headed up the sidewalk that cut across the lawn. With each step, she felt that tension inside her build.
As they neared the church, she glanced up at the cross mounted to its steeple. Suddenly that thing inside her snapped, and her mind filled with the blind fury of a rabid animal.
Justin felt her tremble. “Cass?”
She shook her head. “Just keep going.”
She had to do this. Justin had been right. If that thing hated the church and a priest that much, then this is what she needed.
Maybe it would work... maybe it would work...
God help me, she muttered in a silent prayer.
Sean had just finished greeting a parishioner when he spotted Justin and Cassie approaching. It looked like something was wrong with her, as Justin kept helping her stand.
She’s going to come to you, with no other hope...
Amy’s words from the dream came suddenly. Was this the moment she meant?
Sean hurried down the sidewalk to meet them. He held out his hand and offered her a warm smile. “Hey. It’s good to see you back. How are you feeling?”
She tried to smile as their hands touched... then instantly recoiled back. It had snapped, and a sheering pain shot through her. She staggered back as Justin caught her arm to steady her.
Sean’s smile turned to concern. He looked at Justin. “What’s wrong with her?”
Justin shook his head. “We need to talk to you, Father. It’s about what I told you last week.”
Sean nodded. “Okay. Let me tell everyone that Mass will be starting late.”
“Is your name Cassie Stevens?” a woman’s voice called from across the lawn.
Justin and Sean turned to see Maggie Dunne storming over.
“It is you, isn’t it?” she snarled as she stormed up. “I’m Maggie Dunne. It was my daughter Katie that you killed.”
Justin stepped forward. “Woah. Miss Dunne. Take it easy. Okay?”
“No! It’s not oka
y! That girl’s a murderer.”
Sean stepped between Maggie and Cassie and put his hand on Maggie’s shoulders. “Maggie, please. I know you’re upset. But now’s not the time.”
“Then you tell me when is the time. That girl killed my daughter!”
Cassie’s bloodcurdling scream caused them all to stop. She dropped to the grass and writhed grotesquely like a worm in water. Sharp talons tore through her mind and body, as the Shrill struck more ferociously than ever.
She screamed and screamed till her throat was raw. Sean and Justin rushed over and knelt beside her.
“Make it stop!” she screamed in a voice torn with agony.
All around, parishioners had stopped and watched in horror as this young girl twisted in torment across the lawn. Each felt something grip them at their most primal core, and they sensed what they couldn’t see — a fellow human being, crushed by a monstrous brutality.
Then it faded, ever so slightly, and Cassie’s eyes locked onto Sean’s. It was the look of a drowning victim as she broke the surface in one last desperate cry for help.
“Help me,” she gasped, and the stark terror in her eyes sent Sean reeling back. It was so far beyond any level of terror and agony he had thought possible that it shot tendrils of fear through his own mind.
Then the clarity in her eyes vanished, and she submerged back into that pit of excruciating agony.
Maggie’s heart shattered to pieces as she watched Cassie writhe and convulse. Every trace of anger and bitterness was gone, and all she felt was profound sadness and empathy. She took a step forward to help, but something stopped her. A small voice had whispered to her and told her it wasn’t the right time yet. But it would be soon.
Please help her, the voice had pleaded.
She dropped to her knees and wept deep bitter sobs. She knew the voice she had heard — it was her daughter, Katie.
****
Sean found Father Jenkins tending the small garden behind the rectory. He knelt down and joined him in removing some weeds that had spread amongst the squash. He tugged on one, and it snapped at the stem.
“Careful, Sean. You need to be sure to remove the entire root. Otherwise you’ll return in several days and find it’s regrown.”
