Autumn Falls

by A. R. Kingston

  Charlotte felt the temperature suddenly drop and glanced up to Zack, evaporating in her arms until there was nothing left. She was left standing, holding on to the smoke seeping through her fingers, and for the first time, she noticed that she could see her breath in front of her. The scones which had reappeared on the cream damask walls flickered faintly around her, and the room slowly spun and whirled like something in a fun house mirror. Feeling queasy as her head floated with the room, she leaned a hand on the wall and swallowed down the sour taste of bile lingering in her throat. At the end of the hall, she could hear shallow grunts and groans, and she squinted to try to see in that direction, not expecting to be greeted by a grisly sight.

  On the far end, a black cloth-clad torso wiggled towards her at an alarming rate. Its legs did not seem to work, as it walked—if you could call it that—with one arm in front of the other as it pulled itself along the paisley rug. The thing was slowly closing the distance between them as its human arms picked up pace with every stroke. A human torso, that was not entirely human, carried on its shoulder the scar-painted face of a white pig. Its snout twisted as it let out groans, and Charlotte could see that its eyes were vacant socket; dark and lifeless, still oozing blood across the pink skin.

  Clutching her chest, her heart raced faster as the air slowly drain out from her lungs and caused her head to spin even more. She wanted to scream, but nothing came out except the sound of the wind escaping her throat. The horrible creature was almost upon her as it ran on its arms to eat away the space that separated her from it. Turning around, Charlotte urged her legs to move as she attempted to run for the door of her room, but every step she took felt like she was walking in Jell-O. She aimlessly jabbed the key into its slot, jiggling the lock and praying it would open. The smell of carrion crept into her nostrils, and she could feel the creature's hot breath as she pleaded with the lock, and with God to be spared from what it had in store for her.

  Finally, as if by the grace of God upon hearing her prayer, the door handle turned, and Charlotte flung herself into the safety of the room. Slamming the door behind her, she wheezed and pressed her back to the wood. Closing her eyes, she took a few deep breaths and thanked God for letting her live. With trembling hands, she turned to slide the door chain into position with the grunts resonating continuously from the other side. She attempted to tell herself she was going crazy, and convinced herself to peek through the peephole to prove it. Pressing her eye against the small hole, she could see nothing but a dimly lit hall, until a bloody eye socket popped up from the ground to meet her gaze. Letting out a yelp, Charlotte fell to the floor and scrambled back towards her bed.

  Pulling herself up to the soft mattress, she sat with the covers pressed up against her and continued to pant. Hours seemed to pass by with the creature sniffing at the bottom of her door until it let out a shriek and moved away. She could hear it dragging itself along the floor as the sound of its grunts slowly grew distant and muffled. Charlotte waited until she heard nothing but the hum of the radiator and laid her head down on the pillow with the comforter still pressed to her face. Telling herself it was only a dream, she closed her eyes and urged herself to return to sleep, so she could wake back up in her world and forget about the horrible nightmare which just transpired.

  Chapter Five

  “What looked like morning was the beginning of endless night”—William Peter Blatty, The Exorcist

  L ost in an uneasy sleep, Charlotte felt herself being nudged awake. She recalled the strange nightmare she had, glad for it to be over, but as she attempted to move, she realized she was still wearing her robe. Straining open her eyes, still heavy with sleep, she saw her son shaking her awake. Strange thoughts flooded her mind, and she tried to recall exactly what happened last night, or what she thought happened, but no rational explanation came to mind. Sitting up in bed, she yawned, stretched her arms, and allowed her feet to hit the floor before turning her head to stare at Kevin.

  "What time is it?"

  "It's already seven, mom, you slept in. If you don't hurry, you'll be late for your first day of work."

  "Oh, damn." Charlotte shot up and ran to the bathroom. "Did you have breakfast yet?"

  "No. I was going to grab something from the hotel café on the way to school."

  "All right," Charlotte poked her head out as she threw on her shirt, "Just be sure to grab your key and return right back to the room after school. I don't want you running all over this island just yet."

  "I know, mom." Kevin rolled his eyes. "That has been our routine for the last year, or did you forget?"

  "No, I did not." Charlotte fumbled out of the bathroom while attempting to put on a sock. "But I'm your mother and it's my job to worry about you."

  "I know, I know. But it's not like Bret is going to follow us here. He doesn't even know we left Seattle."

  "I realize that, but..." she paused and wondered why she was so apprehensive. "I guess I just want to make sure he is gone for good before I feel safe about letting you be out on your own, or at least until you have friends with parents who I can trust."

  "Yeah, yeah, I get it. Can't have big, bad Bret coming to kidnap me or anything. I promise to come right home and lock the door until your shift is done. Now hurry before your ride leaves and you have to walk to the station. Something tells me that Uber isn't a thing around here."

  "Okay, fine, I'm out." Charlotte went to leave but paused in the doorway to steal a backward glance at her son. "Are you sure you'll be all right here by yourself until I get back?"

  "Yes, mom. We got four restaurants here at the hotel, plus cable, and I have my iPad and Nintendo Switch. Not to mention I will probably have like ten hours of homework to keep me occupied until bedtime."

  "You know, my previous offer still stands. You can go live with grandma in Boston until I get settled and know for sure that Bret won't come after us again."

  "No way! I already told you, I want to stay with you. Plus, I doubt he'd go unnoticed if he came looking for us. The population here is all of like five-hundred people, and they all know each other."

  "Well... I guess you're right. Okay, be good, stay out of trouble, I'll call you as soon as I can. Love you, Kev."

  "Love you too, mom. Stay safe."

  Shutting the door behind her, Charlotte glanced towards the end of the hall and shuddered. She gawked at the exact spot where the pigman stood, but in the daylight the only thing that was there was the dappled light coming in from the side door and dancing on the wall. Stilling her racing heart, she tiptoed down the hall until she pushed through the glass door to the welcoming freedom of the outdoors. Autumn's breath tickled her neck as she turned to spot the familiar green Jeep waiting for her in the parking lot. It was filled with fresh faces. A burly young man around her age with short brown hair and dark brown eyes sat chatting up a petite redhead beside him who was substantially younger, perhaps only nineteen, a kid starting out in the world. She was far too young to be her new partner, thought Charlotte, and she was curious to find out why the girl was with them.

  Cyrus was waiting by the passenger door, kicking at the murder of seven crows which had gathered by his feet. At first, the birds refused to move, but as Charlotte approached, one of the black fiends turned to regard her with its beady, unblinking eyes. It stared at her all of but a heartbeat until it let out a caw, ruffled its shimmering onyx feathers, and flew off, taking all of its companions with it. She stopped and watched the dark flock clog up the sky in murky darkness as they vanished from sight, and she thought how particularly strange it was. But as much as she wished to ponder the meaning of the birds, she remembered she had to get to work and sprinted the short distance between her and her ride.

  "Well, good morning, Miss. Briggs." Cyrus waved at her with a smile that crinkled his face. "Glad you're able to join us."

  "Sorry. I guess I slept in. I promise it won't happen again."

  "No need to apologize, it happens to the best of us. Now, allow me to intro
duce you to your co-workers. This young lady here is Iris Chapman, the new dispatcher for your shift. And the young man sitting beside her is one Charles McCrae, your new partner."

  "Hello." Charlotte mumbled as she averted their gaze. "Nice to meet you all."

  "Hey there." Iris leaned past Charles and waved. "I can't wait to get to know you better. I didn't get to meet many lady paramedics back where I lived, now I get to be friends with one."

  "Howdy partner." Charles looked up at her and frowned. "Where is your trauma bag? I was told we needed to bring our own."

  "Back in my room." Charlotte peeked over her shoulder in the direction she came from. "I thought today was only orientation."

  "You are correct, Miss. Briggs, today is only a meet and greet. You are not required to have your bag."

  "Still, you may want to grab it anyway, you know how these places are. The last orientation I went to turned out to be a full-on shift. Plus, no use in dragging it in tomorrow when you can drop it off at your locker today."

  "Oh, right. I guess you have a good point. I can always go back and get it. If that's okay with you, Cyrus?"

  "Yes ma'am, but hurry, we don't want to be too late."

  "Sure, not a problem. I'll be back in a jiffy."

  Charlotte turned to head back to the door. She could have easily gone in through her patio door, but in her paranoia over Bret, she kept it latched and even used the safety bar that was provided. The thought of going back through the hall caused her insides to churn and prick, but she had no other alternative. It was daytime after all. Everyone knew nothing scary ever happened during the day. Such things were reserved for the midnight hour when the visibility was low, and your eyes played tricks on you. Tricks, that was all last night was, an elaborate illusion created by her panic-stricken brain. Convincing herself of her own delusions, she reached for the door when a cackle of crows came from above her head, rooting her to her spot.

  Chapter Six

  “Darkness always had its part to play. Without it, how would we know when we walked in the light?”— Clive Barker, Abarat

  C harlotte's trembling hand hovered over the door rail as the crows continued to caw above her. Their spooky, high-pitched cries blended into the laugh of a mad man. She wanted to tilt her head up and observe them, count how many there were, but her muscles refused to move despite her best efforts. Shutting out the melancholy cries of the birds, she depressed the metal bar and pushed her way back inside the hotel. Standing in the hall, she looked toward her door and her heart dropped into her ankles as the space seemed to elongate into an unfathomable eternity.

  Lights flickered around her as the hallway stretched further and further away from her, and somewhere in the distance, she heard the tolling of a bell. Listening to its mournful clang, a splitting headache assaulted her out of the blue. Her brain throbbed as if someone were digging a knife into it, and all she could do was clench her teeth to stop the bile that was burning a hole in her esophagus from making its way to the floor. The room rocked and swayed like some ship caught in a raging storm, and black smoke filtered in around her. Overcome with nausea, she leaned against the wall, which quickly gave way beneath her, sending her toppling to the cold ground below.

  She pushed herself up and realized that the paisley carpet beneath her had transformed into a cobblestone street. The world appeared to be drenched in a shade of sepia and streams of people flowed by her, none of which stopped to help. Passersby continued to float around her, and some through her, and that was when Charlotte realized that she was not actually there. She was transported to a world outside her time, merely a spectator to the ghosts of the events which had long since passed. Alone in a world she did not belong to, and with no way to return back to her time, a pang of pain radiate through her heart.

  "Get up, Lottie." A distant male voice called to her. "You have to get up."

  Lottie, her heart missed a beat. Only her mother had called her that, and that was not her. Straining to stand up, an invisible force weighed her down. It was as if someone was sitting on top of her, keeping her there. No, she thought, I won't let this end here. Clenching her jaw, she struggled to stagger on to her feet until she could glance in the voice's direction. A strange man with curly black hair in a dark blue paramedic's uniform stood by one of the stone houses, pointing to its door. He seemed so familiar, a specter from some long-forgotten memory which no longer existed, and Charlotte wanted to run into his arms.

  "Come on, Lottie." The man continued to point to the door. "You don't belong here. You must get out. Focus on what keeps you living. Focus and you will find your way back."

  With wobbling knees, Charlotte stumbled forward, pushing her way through figments of people who had long left her world. The stale, greasy air made it difficult to breathe, let alone think, and her muscles screamed in agony with her every step. She felt like she was dying, and perhaps she was. But she urged her legs to move forward, down the street to where the man stood, and she focused on Kevin, who would be lost without her. Her vision was growing dark from the pain when she reached the house the man had been standing at. The stranger had long evaporated, but as she focused on the door, she let go a cry of relief. There, on chipped and faded lacquer, was the number one-hunderd and three.

  Grabbing hold of the ornate doorknob, she twisted it in her hand and fell inside just as she lost her grip on reality. Laying on the floor, she opened her eyes and saw that she was back in her room, her bag sat right beside her. Releasing the tears building in her eyes, she looked about the room. It was empty, Kevin must have left for school already. Walking to the glass door, she peeked outside and saw Cyrus standing by his Jeep. A sigh of relief escaped her lungs, and she wiped away her tears. Grabbing the bag off the floor, she slung it around her shoulders and went to open the door when she suddenly stopped. She needed to get back outside, but the thought of going back in the hallway terrified her. Still, there was no other way out, and she held her breath as she went to pull open the door.

  Chapter Seven

  “Because God is never cruel, there is a reason for all things. We must know the pain of loss; because if we never knew it, we would have no compassion for others, and we would become monsters of self-regard, creatures of unalloyed self-interest. The terrible pain of loss teaches humility to our prideful kind, has the power to soften uncaring hearts, to make a better person of a good one.” ― Dean Koontz, The Darkest Evening of the Year

  G awking into the hallway beyond the door, Charlotte wondered when it was going to change and send her back into the hellish world she came from. But aside from her pounding heart, all she heard was a muffled hum of a vacuum cleaner to her right. Peering around the corner of the door frame, she spotted the maid in a black and white dress, vacuuming the floor a few doors away from her. Rationalizing that nothing would happen with another person there with her, she stepped out and shut the door behind her.

  Glancing down to the end where specks of light from the door were on the wall, she found the panic welling up inside her. Not daring to be in the hall any longer than she had to be, she clutched her bag to her chest and sprinted for the other end. Bursting through the door she sent a black mass of crows soaring into the air as they croaked in protest at her haste. Paying no attention to the flock leaving glimmering green and purple feathers in their wake, she continued to run for the Jeep. Having crossed the lawn, she spotted her salvation in sight and nearly fell on her face as she tripped over the curb in a rush to escape from the hotel.

  "Well, dang." Charles glanced up at her frazzled face and scratched his head. "That was quick."

  "Yeah." Charlotte heaved and wheezed. She hadn't run that fast since she was a kid. "Told you I'd be quick. Now let's go, we wouldn't want to be late."

  Hopping in the front seat next to Cyrus, Charlotte put her bag between her legs and stilled her shaking hands before pulling her seat belt around her. The others continued to stare at her, and she hoped they wouldn't catch on to her fear, or her general u
nease of being on the island. She didn't understand what was going on with her, nor could she explain the ominous feeling she got from being in Autumn Falls, and she did not want these strangers to think she was crazy. She needed this job more than anything and did not need to be dismissed on the account of being clinically insane. That's all she was, insane, a loon who needed to be locked up and medicated, but with her being Kevin's only parent, she couldn't afford to be hauled away to a cushy state hospital for treatment.

  "What are we waiting for?" She turned to Cyrus and smiled. "Let's get moving."

  Frowning at her, the old man started up the car and drove out of the hotel parking lot, heading west on Cottage Lane. Charles and Iris were hitting it off in the back, chatting and flirting while Charlotte stared out the windshield in silence, ignoring their playful banter. She never did much like people, and while she was always cordial with her co-workers, she never formed the close-knit relationship the others had, mostly because Bret wouldn’t allow it. Resting her elbow on the side of the door, she leaned on her hand and heaved out a sigh. She was busy marveling at the colorful Victorian cottages lining the street when the distant wail of an ambulance getting closer drew her attention. Sitting up in her seat, she noted the Jeep had slowed down and watched as a boxy white ambulance streaked between two brick buildings in front of them, heading east up Emerald Beach Avenue.

  "Cyrus..." Charlotte frowned as she continued to listen to the cry of the sirens grow distant and finally stop. "I thought they said there was only one ambulance crew per shift."

  "Oh, there is. You on the first shit, one second shift, and one on the night shift." Cyrus said unfazed and turned left to go in the opposite direction of the ambulance. "That was sixty-five seventy -four that you saw just now. It crashed almost twenty-five years ago, killing everyone on board."