The First Culling

by Michael Eicherly

  Kelly sits in the tub, she finishes the rest of the beer, then places the empty bottle on the floor outside the tub. She lays her head back and places a wet rag over her eyes.

  The bathroom door begins to open, without a sound by itself. Kelly does not see or hear it.

  The old rocking chair is in view again. It begins to move more quickly back and forth by itself. This time deep gnarling breaths barely heard. It sounds of an old sick perverted man, watching her and touching himself from across the room. Breathes from the entity become and louder. The entity runs from the chair and violently crashes through the bathroom door. The door breaks with such force, it sounds like it exploded.

  The lights in the bathroom turn off by themselves. Kelly opens her eyes and screams. The screams turn to muffles under the water. She fights her way back, screaming bloody murder. Water is thrashing all over the bathroom. It splashes the candles out.

  There is no way she can see the perpetrator. She only feels a large man with huge hands holding her under the water, laughing taunting her, calling her a slut, a whore, a bitch. It penetrates her privates with large fingers and bites on her nipples.

  Kelly screams under water, as her fill with soapy hot water, it burns, her heart pounds, and feels it is ready to burst.

  The large perpetrator keeps her under for over ten seconds. She tries to grab his arms. She feels nothing. Just a large weight of an unknown human pouncing on her body. She grabs for air one last time, screaming, spitting up blood and soapy water.

  “Matthew, help, help, Mom, stop, it hurts, it burns, god it hurts, help me, Father, please stop!”

  Grandma hears Kelly screaming from downstairs. Grandma walks to Linda on the couch, and nudges her with her cane. Linda is passed out on the couch from her Vicodin. Grandma hits Linda with her cane on her leg.

  “Ouch!” Old woman. “What the hell is your problem?”

  “It’s Kelly, she’s screaming!” exclaims Grandma.

  “Mom, please help me, someone!!”

  “Oh, my God!”

  Linda sprints up to her bedroom door. Grandma is surprisingly behind her. Linda being medicated, stumbles on the stairs, gathers herself then tries opening the door.

  “Darn thing, it’s locked,” cries Linda.

  “Kelly, Kelly, open the door it’s locked.”

  “Stop, it hurts. Oh, my god, it hurts, stop it, please stop, it hurts!”

  Linda tries desperately opening the door. She kicks it, tries with her shoulders and fists until they bleed.

  A screeching demonic sound hurls from the bathroom. Then complete silence.

  Linda is frantic now. She pounds on the door until exhausted. Grandma tries hitting the door with her cane unsuccessfully. Frank shows up yelling and screaming.

  “What the fuck’s going on!”

  “Your daughter’s in there screaming for her life. The door won’t open. Do something.”

  “Stand back!” Frank kicks the door with all his might. One, two, three, the fourth time it finally opens.

  “Turn on the lights,” says Frank.

  Frank, Linda, and Grandma run as fast as possible towards the bathroom. The door is completely destroyed. Kelly lay face up in the bath water, faucet running water. The bathtub’s floor is mixed with blood, water and soap and feces.

  Frank grabs his daughter and places her on the floor. There are slash marks all over her naked body. She looks as if she was attacked by a wolf.

  “My God, what’s happening?!” cries Linda.

  Frank begins CPR. “Kelly, wake up!” Frank continues CPR. “Kelly, wake up, baby girl.” Kelly is lifeless at this point. Frank opens her mouth wider by moving her back backwards a bit more. Frank begins the CPR again. “Kelly, wake up!” yells Frank.

  “Do something!” screams Linda. Frank tries one more time. He takes a much deeper breath this time and pushes four times on Kelly’s chest.

  “Do something!” Cries Linda.

  “I am doing something! Get the hell downstairs and call 911. Now. Do it now. Go, go!” yells Frank.

  “Kelly. Baby, breathe damn it. Damn it, breathe.” Kelly spits up water and starts screaming. She lays to her right side and vomits about a pint of soapy water and blood. In the background, Linda can be heard yelling for ambulance.

  Kelly cries out for Linda. “Mommy, Mom!”

  Linda sprints upstairs and almost tackles Kelly. “Oh God. Thank the Lord. Lord, thank you, Jesus, my daughter is ok.”

  Kelly begins to scream again as she holds her mother. She is shaking and is in complete horror. “Mom, it was the devil, the devil was here. He attacked me!” cries Kelly.

  “Baby, the devil? What are you talking about? Tell me what happened.”

  Kelly regains more consciousness. She points at the rocking chair in the corner. Her hands start shaking, lips quivering. “Mommy, that chair is evil,” says Kelly.

  Linda looks over Kelly curiously. “Honey, that is just an old chair. How’s it evil? Talk to me.”

  Kelly looks at the chair again and begins to convulse. Kelly is frantic again. “No, no, no, go away. No, No, don’t let him get me again.” Kelly buries her face in Frank’s chest. She tries to stand up and run but loses her balance. Frank tries to detain Kelly, as she kicks and screams profanities. “Evil is in this house, Mom and Dad. They will kill us, all of us,” says Kelly. Where is Cindy? Don’t let him get her. It hurts, it hurts so much. I saw hell, Dad. I saw it." says Kelly. Hell is real, I saw it."

  “Look at me,” says Frank. Everything is going to be ok. “Now look at me, look at me. What’s the problem, what happened? Who was here with you?”

  Kelly is now in shock. She can barely speak, and her equilibrium’s off balance. Her eyes roll back, and she begins to swallow her tongue. Kelly, points at the rocking chair again and begins choking, trying to speak. She falls to the floor and starts convulsing.

  “She’s gone into shock!” says Frank. Frank grabs her head and places his index finger on the upper portion of her tongue. He applies just enough pressure, so she does not die. When the convulsing stops, he wraps a large heavy cotton blanket around Kelly like a baby and carries her downstairs.

  The paramedics check her pulse, then place an oxygen mask over her mouth. Frank and Linda follow the paramedics to the ambulance. The paramedics wheel Kelly into the back of van. Linda and Grandma watch every move.

  “You and Grannie sit in the van. I’ll gather Cindy and Matthew.”

  Linda pauses for a moment and looks over Frank. She cannot help but wonder if Frank had something to do with this. The beer bottles on the floor. Did she drink his strong alcohol or is it other drugs?

  The paramedics help Linda and Grandma into the ambulance. Nosey neighbors look on. Frank can be seen by Linda from back of the ambulance.

  Frank looks down at the pavement and shovels his foot. He pulls out a cigarette. Frank takes a big drag and exhales. Franks burps then looks at his neighbor Daren. He’s never liked Daren. His wife always looks out the front bay window with binocular. Frank walks up to Daren and stares him in the face.

  “Hey, Daren, hell of a fuckin night, isn’t it? Why don’t you go inside, shave your wife? Teach her to hunt. You useless pile of crap.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  Cindy sits with Rachel in her bedroom. They are listening to ‘Bauhaus In the Flat Field.’ Solemn looks are on their faces. They sit Indian style with the Angel Ouija board in front of them again. Cindy tells her that bad things are happening all around them. She feels the presence of an angry spirit. A spirit that was unlawfully harmed in human form. Cindy and Rachel do what most young girls do at a sleepover. Try different makeup, hair styles, share each other’s clothing. Red gossip magazines, and binge out on boxes of Entenmann’s chocolate donuts and raspberry pastries They drink San Pellegrino mixed with Hawaiian punch in martini glasses, pretending they are rich debutants.

  “So, how are things at home now?” asks Rachel.

  "It’s all messed up. It never leaves me. H
ow am I suppose too feel?

  “I’ve done a lot of thinking about the murder. Maybe it was that weird looking hessian she left with at the fairgrounds. You know the one with the mullet, bad skin, and tricked-out Ford Pinto Wagon,” Rachel comments.

  “Oh yeah, I know, and the flames. With the big blower. What a dork!” replies Cindy.

  “She always went for the dorky, loser types. That’s Tara for you,” Rachel says,

  “I know, he was gross, sick. He looked like an old punk rock dude, no job, living with his parents. Worst part is, when he played hacky sack. Let it ride, dude, let it ride,” Cindy comments. “And the fuckin cigarette in his mouth?”

  Both girls begin laughing and toast their virgin cocktails. “I know, right? He also smelled of clove cigarettes and raw onions,” says Rachel. “Remember when he got pissed at Tara for spilling his beer? ‘I’ll kill you. I kill all of you all.’ What a douche bag,” says Rachel. Both girls’ laughter now turns into cries.

  “Look at us,” Cindy says. “First laughing about Tara, now we’re crying? Yeah, it’s fair to say we’re both pretty screwed up.”

  “I look at this board and think of all the things we’ve done. Some messed up things, but this is way out there. I mean, I’ve been really creeped out lately. At home, walking the neighborhood. At the mall, even school. I feel I’m being watched all the time. Even followed. The other night, I heard footsteps in my room and this board. Shit, this board. Who thought it would ever work?” Cindy pauses for a moment, drops her head, and begins to sob.

  “What’s wrong, Cindy? Did you have a dream? Another bad dream about Tara?”

  “I did. It was horrible. What bothers me the most, it was in color. I’ve never dreamed in color before.”

  Rachel’s facial expression changes to dismay. “I had a dream about Tara also. I was at her funeral. There was this hearse driver. All this driver did was stare at me the whole funeral. Not your typical stare. It was a look that said you are guilty. ‘I know you killed Tara, and you will pay.’ In the dream, we were both standing over her grave. Next thing I remember was I was in a coffin. One with the glass top. I started screaming as everyone walked away. The hearse driver was shoveling dirt over the coffin, with me in it. Holy moly. Freak out. I woke up dripping in sweat, my muscles and back ached. My head was on fire.”

  “You know, Cindy, it may be the Ouija board. You even said doors can be opened. The wrong doors. The ones that evil spirits exit,”

  “Maybe you’re right, but what should we do with it?”

  I say we burn it," says Rachel. What if we’re responsible for Tara? We can’t just throw it away."

  “I thought about this also,” says Tara.

  “I say we burn the damn thing,” says Rachel. “I hate it, I hate it. I hate the way I feel around it.” Rachel pounds the board with her fist.

  “Stop beating on it. That won’t help anything.”

  For a moment Cindy and Rachel stare at the Ouija board and pentagram. As they look at the Ouija, they both become numb with their emotions. Fact is, the board worked. Fact is, they made it out of cardboard and crayons, paper and thumbtack. It was exciting when they used it. The board made them feel high, powerful, in charge of something bigger than them. As they continue to stare at the Ouija, a blast of air burst over them and the Ouija board whisks away and hits Rachel’s wall. It sticks to the wall for a few seconds, then lands on the floor.

  Cindy and Rachel look at each other and scream. They exit the bedroom and run downstairs full stride until they reach Rachel’s living room. They almost fall flat to the floor. The girls continue to scream, yell and jump around. They are horrified, yet excited. Just like the night before, the danger of the situation created a psychological high. Cindy and Rachel sit in the middle of the living room and look up the dark stairway.

  “Well, what should we do?” asks Cindy.

  “Go up there and get it,” Says Rachel.

  “I’m not going up there. Uh, uh, no fuckin’ way. It’s your house, your idea!” Cindy exclaims.

  “Bullshit. You wanted to do it. Just as much as me,” replies Rachel.

  “Ok then, here’s what we do. Together we run up, get the board together. Then run back down arm in arm together. Ok?”

  “I don’t know about this,” says Rachel. “I am totally freaked out right now. And the stairs, it’s dark. Forget it. No way.” Let’s find Matt. He’ll do anything to look at my boobs."

  “Girl, get serious, we’re in this together. You can feel the energy,” says Cindy.

  “I don’t know, swear to god, I just shit my panties. Serious now, ready? On three,” says Cindy. “One, two, three…”

  The girls run up the stairs. Rachel slips behind Cindy. Cindy grabs her arm, helps her up, and runs through the bedroom door. The candles are mysteriously out. Rachel flicks the lights on. Cindy and Rachel both yell as they run for the Ouija board. Rachel picks up the board, then drops it. Cindy grabs it and heads out the bedroom door.

  “Whoa, crap! Grab the pentagram!” yells Rachel.

  “I don’t see it,” cries Cindy.

  Both girls jump and nervously stumble around.

  “Look under the darn bed,” Rachel says.

  “Found it, let’s go.”

  “How the hell did it get there?”

  “Who cares, go, run. Maybe it feels safe there.”

  Cindy and Rachel run out of the bedroom. Yelling and screaming. They run so fast, they almost skate down the carpeted steps on their heels yelling aloud. Cindy and Rachel frantically reach the dining area, shaking with excitement. Rachel’s mother lays on the couch watching Beverly Hills, 90210. She’s smoking a cigarette, holding a glass of red wine. “Whatcha’ girls up to?” asks Rachel’s mother.

  “Nothing really, Mom, we’re just burning a Ouija board,” Says Rachel.

  “Oh, that’s nice, girls, have a good time,” says Rachel Mother. By the way, I put some weenie tots in the oven."

  “Is your mom always this oblivious?”

  “Yep. Totally, says Rachel.”Lost in space dude."

  Rachel and Cindy exit into the back yard. A large Great Dane named Atlas runs up to Cindy. Rachel pushes the dog away, then throws its favorite chew stump.

  “Where do we burn it?” asks Cindy.

  “Why don’t we try the garden, then place it in the dirt?” Let me do it," yells Rachel. Rachel places a large piece of tin foil under the board, then places it neatly in the earth.

  Cindy takes a large bottle of lighter fluid then saturates the board. She lights a match and lights the Ouija. A bright blueish flame shoots up. It’s not your normal yellow flame but blueish and very bright. The Angel Ouija now burns. May dogs throughout the neighborhood begin to howl. Rachel’s dog Atlas begins to howl then cry. Cindy and Rachel look around the back yard as an eerie wind quickly swirls through the backyard. The sight of the blaze is mesmerizing to them both. The higher the blaze gets, the louder the dogs cry out.

  “Just don’t stand there. Help me.” Cindy finds a gardening shovel and begins digging with all her might. Rachel looks around and finds a hand shovel. She helps Cindy dig and bury quickly. Atlas walks up to Rachel and licks her on the cheek, showing a sign of encouragement, pets her dog, and Atlas slowly walks away inspecting the rest of the yard, ensuring both girls’ protection.

  “Let’s now make sure all the ashes are buried.”

  “Shouldn’t we be reading from Ephesians, chapter 3?” says Cindy."

  Rachel stares off in a daze then takes a deep breath of fresh air. She’s fixated on the dark shadows which dance about her back yard. Cindy grabs the hand shovel and continues to dig.

  “When this is done, we’ll get some Pizza Hut,” says Cindy.

  Rachel looks at Cindy and smiles. “Thanks, Cindy, you’re a good friend. My best friend.”

  “Wait a second. I just hit something,” says Cindy.

  “It’s a rock, forget it,” replies Rachel.

  “Wait no, it’s not, I think it’s a
… check it out, it’s an old box,” says Cindy.

  “Great, let’s summon up more bad news,” Rachel says.

  Cindy places the box aside. They continue burying the Angel Ouija. Just as they finish, Cindy’s cellphone rings at full volume, as it startles Rachel. Cindy hands over the box to Rachel.

  “Here. Put it somewhere safe until later. Cindy answers the call.”Dad, slow down. What happened? Oh shit! Hurry up and get me then. Ok, but I won’t leave Rachel tonight." Cindy turns off her cell phone and sighs.

  “What happened?” asks Rachel.

  “It’s Kelly. I guess she had an accident. My Dad’s on his way. We are going to the hospital. He was kind of hyper. I couldn’t really make out what he was saying.”

  Cindy and Rachel hurry through the glass sliding door and run upstairs. Out back in the yard, Atlas is disturbed. He paces the southeast side wall, growling at the fence as if someone is drying to enter the yard.

  Frank sits in Linda’s Range Rover in front of Rachel’s driveway. Cindy steps in the front seat and Rachel in the back. Frank floors the gas pedal and the Range Rover screeches out of the neighborhood. Frank smells as if he’s drank a few whiskies. The radio plays ‘AC/DC’s Shoot to Thrill’ is playing. Frank clenches the steering wheel and starts mumbling to himself about the house, his job, maybe it’s his fault. ‘Why were empty beer bottles on the bathroom floor?’ he mumbles. Cindy looks at Frank curiously. His eyes are dilated, sweat drips from his forehead.

  “Dad, what’s going on?”

  “Your sister was in our bathroom, door was broken in, she was screaming on the floor when we returned from the restaurant. There was also blood flowing from the back side of her head.”

  “How in the heck can that happen? Were Mom and Grandma downstairs?” asks Cindy.

  “Honey, I don’t know, that’s the point. Your mother has a habit of laying around the house in her robe doing nothing. She’s been paying way too many visits to doctor feel good.” Frank pounds his hand on the steering wheel, then wipes sweat from his forehead. “Anyway, she’s at Hoag Hospital right now. The ambulance had to drive her.”