by Stuart Keane
"I read the papers … I am cultured, you know?"
Mike rolled his eyes.
"Anyway, where was I … oh yes, her eyes. They were immediately bloodshot which left her defenseless. The second guy picked her up and shoved her over the hood of her car. He ripped her panties off, tore her skirt aside and fucked her there and then. Hard. His accomplice simply watched, awaiting his turn. Sadie screamed and struggled, but they were too strong for her. When done, he switched and the other took his turn. Sloppy seconds. This went on for an hour. Apparently, not one vehicle passed during this entire time."
"Scum does exist. That's horrible," Mike stuttered. He was looking at the tree on the corner. The shape and shadow of it sent a shiver up his spine. The thought of what had happened here was starting to make him uncomfortable. He took a step back. He swallowed and closed his eyes, choosing his next question carefully.
"So what happened next?"
"Mickey boy, you are curious. But, I'm glad you asked. When they finished with her, they slit her throat, groped her a little more as she bled out, smearing her tits and stomach and pussy with blood, and tossed her over the barrier right there. Apparently – I say that a lot don’t I, oh well, when a word is appropriate – her blood splashed and soaked the barrier and the gravel, not to mention the tree. If you go over there, I bet you can still see the splash marks."
"Bullshit."
"Oh yeah? Go and check."
"The rain would have washed it away."
"Only one way to know for sure."
"Fuck you man, I'm not going over there …"
Silence settled between them. Alex finished his beer and tossed the bottle to the ground, smashing it. He kicked the glass away from the wheels of the Mercedes. Mike rubbed his temples between his fingers. "Did they find her?"
"Nope. You have seen the incline over that barrier, right. It's called Widow's Peak for a reason."
Mike nodded. "She would have been a pulp before she even came to a rest." Alex chuckled. Mike frowned and glanced at his friend. "That's hardly funny."
"I wasn’t laughing at that. Have you heard the tale of Sadie Barker?"
"You just told me, in more detail than I care for. But yes, I'm now familiar with it. Rape, murder, debauchery, the normal."
"That’s the story, fact, truth. I mean the tale, the urban legend. The interesting part."
"You mean the bullshit that spreads on social networking and via people's texts. No, but I'm sure you'll enlighten me."
"Such a negative Nancy. Well, it turns out, it has some significance."
"How?"
"You know this was four years ago?"
"So?"
"They say, that on the anniversary of her death - well, her murder - that she appears on this very spot and wreaks revenge on whomever is standing here. Her red eyes mesmerize the person, before drawing them into a violent and bloody death."
"So, you’ve gone from fantasy to a fucking ghost story now?"
"They never found her body … who says it’s a ghost?"
"Now I know you're high. Fucking moron. What does she do … actually, scratch that, I don’t want to know."
"Aren't you a little curious?"
"Not even a little bit. Not. One. Bit." Mike staggered his words, emphasizing his point. "This is sick, and I want to go home."
"You drove us out here, you only have yourself to blame."
"I drove us … not here, not anywhere, just drove. You stopped us here. I didn’t have a destination in mind when I got behind the wheel … wish I'd never fucking bothered now. You always pull shit like this."
"Makes life exciting, doesn’t it?"
"That's one, if slightly untrue word. Get in the car."
"You realise the four year anniversary is tonight, right?"
"What?"
"Sadie's death. It was four years ago tonight." Alex checked his Rolex again. "In about fifteen minutes to be exact."
Mike laughed, anger filtering through his veins. "You’re a fucking whack job. Get in the car."
"I want to see what happens," Alex uttered, stepping into the road.
"Get in the fucking car," Mike roared.
"Calm down … fuck me, anyone would think you have a problem with this."
"I do have a problem with this. You know full well that …"
"I'm going over there. With or without you, I'm going. I'm not afraid."
"Be my guest. I'll wait here. Oh, and I'm turning off the headlights. Good luck on your own." Mike climbed into the car and turned the vehicle off, sitting in the dark. Alex paused, grinned, and began walking towards the tree. He stopped a few seconds later and retreated. He scooted back to the car, climbed in and breathed out heavily.
"Not afraid, huh?"
"I'm not. Just … well, I'm not standing in the dark for fifteen minutes … fourteen now. I'll wait for a bit."
"You do that."
Neither boy did anything for a moment. Alex looked across at Mike. He was staring out of the windshield, focusing, his jaw knotted with subtle fury. His eyes were slits, narrowed. Alex smiled and grabbed another beer from his six-pack. "Want one?"
Mike said nothing and simply ignored his friend.
"Suit yourself."
Silence took over once more. Darkness consumed them. Alex swigged his beer and watched the empty road before them. Mike was still staring ahead. Every few seconds brought a sloshing noise into the car as Alex drank. The noise seemed exaggerated, put on.
I bet he's doing it on purpose, thought Mike. He checked the dashboard and sighed. Right now, I could be in the Donut Diner, eating one of their six packs with some coffee.
Only one way to end this.
"Let's do it."
Alex glanced at his friend and smiled. "I knew you weren’t a pussy."
"C'mon, before I change my mind." Mike flicked the headlights on.
"Alright!"
Alex was the first out of the car. Mike was a second or so behind him. As he exited the vehicle, Alex tossed his beer bottle over the barrier at the side of the road. Mike heard it chink faintly on the jagged rocks of Widow's Peak.
He composed himself and started walking to the tree. Alex followed him closely. Their shadows grew as they distanced themselves in the beam of the headlights. Their feet left the gravel and slapped the dry asphalt. Within seconds, they were at the base of the tree. Gentle whispers of leaves on wind filled the air around them.
Ghostly whispers, thought Mike. He shivered.
Both boys looked around, waiting for something to happen.
Nothing did.
"Well, this was fun," Mike moaned.
"Give it a fucking chance."
"For what? Some ghost story to come true? You need to stop watching all of those shitty movies, mate."
"As opposed to reality TV?"
"Fuck you."
"I can't believe you watch that shit. Of all the –"
The headlights on the car went off. Alex and Mike jumped in unison, turning to view the Mercedes, now shrouded in darkness. Silence filled the tense air.
"What was that?" Alex whispered.
"I don’t know. Maybe the battery died …"
"It's a Benz. You get it serviced and its one of the best cars on the road. I doubt the battery died."
"Well, you don’t know that. We've had the headlights on for ages."
"That's bullshit …"
"I'm not a fucking mechanic, so zip it," Mike whispered fiercely. Mike felt the cold sensation of fear creeping through his blood stream. He felt his skin prickling and his sphincter tightening. His eyes roamed the darkness before them, looking for any shape, any form. His eyes adjusted slowly.
"We gotta get out of here," Alex muttered. The panic in his voice was evident.
"Good idea."
Despite agreeing with his friend, Mike couldn’t move. His legs wouldn’t react, as if his brain and legs had disconnected from one another. His eyes were still observing.
A loud, guttural female scr
eam filled the dark, night air.
It echoed off the cliff side below them.
Then it was gone.
Alex fell to his knees and groaned, shaking. Mike backed up a step, seizing. He grimaced as he stood funny and twisted his knee. He felt the hairs on his neck stand up and goose flesh prickle. Every inch of his body stiffened at the sudden realisation that someone or something was nearby.
"Alex, you okay?"
There was no response. Mike surveyed the area, turned to his friend, and knelt down. "Alex … Alex …"
The smell of feces filled the air. Mike screwed his nose up. He rubbed his sore knee. In the dim light, he could make out Alex staring at the Mercedes, his eyes far away, a glassy sheen over them. They glinted in the now present moonlight.
"Alex, we need to go. Now."
"I … what the hell was that?"
"I don’t know and I don’t care. We can't be here though."
"It was Sadie –"
"– fuck Sadie. There's no such thing as …"
The headlights suddenly came on, blasting the boys with an intense glare. Mike's arm shot up to cover his face, nearly smashing his chin and clattering his teeth. Alex turned away and stumbled, collapsing face first onto the asphalt. Mike strained to look over his shielding forearm.
Between the headlights was a figure, the distorted darkness of shadow mutated the glare, creating a hideously tall shadow that froze both boys in their tracks. Mike grabbed Alex by the arm and hauled him to his feet. The figure was almost indiscernible apart from the flowing hair that billowed on the low wind. It reminded Mike of a shampoo advert. It looked almost angelic.
Then, the figure disappeared.
Alex blinked. "You did see that, right?"
"Of course I did."
"Still don’t believe me?"
"We'll discuss this later," Mike uttered as they skirted the headlights and walked sideways towards the car. Mike grimaced again, his knee sending pangs of pain up his spine. Alex shuffled behind. Neither took their eyes off the hood, the small space between the lights in particular. No figure remained.
"Alex, you drive." Mike handed him the keys.
"I've been drinking …"
"I don’t care, just go slow. I busted my knee; I need to stretch it out in the back. Get us out of here."
"Sure …"
Without another word, Alex opened the driver door and paused. Mike opened the rear seat, saw the hesitation in his friend and sighed. "What?"
"I … I crapped my pants back there."
Mike nodded, paused. "I know." He didn’t laugh, normally he would. Circumstance didn’t require it.
"Please don’t tell anyone about it."
"Sure thing. Could happen to anyone."
Alex smiled sheepishly. Mike handed him a towel from an unzipped gym bag on the back seat. "Here, use this. Don’t get your shit on my leather seats."
Alex chuckled, took the towel and placed on the driver seat. He slid into the car, poked the key into the ignition and started the vehicle. Mike slid into the back seat gingerly. Within seconds, the Mercedes was driving away, back on the smooth road, resuming their journey to Donut Diner.
It was almost as if the detour hadn't happened.
Almost.
"Man, I can't believe I shit my pants. So embarrassing."
"It was a hell of a scream. The pitch was enormous," Mike replied, massaging his knee.
"You think it was her? You can't deny you saw her, heard her."
"It could have been any woman, any animal. I've heard foxes and cats duel it out during the witching hour. It sounded similar. Maybe a fox fell down the cliff."
"Or maybe you're deluded. You fucking idiot."
"It's feasible."
"Last I checked, foxes didn’t have long, pretty hair or stand tall between two fucking headlights. You can't deny what you saw."
"True. Let's just get out of here."
"Suit yourself."
Mike gazed out of the windshield. "Let's get to Donut Diner. Take a left here, it's quicker." Alex nodded and steered the vehicle into the narrow bend. Silence settled in the car for a few moments. Street lights passed routinely for several minutes. No cars were visible. The road took them between two intimidating cliff faces, one either side. The shadows here were a little darker.
"Did I ever tell you about my sister," Mike asked.
Alex shook his head, keeping his eyes on the road. He couldn’t see much of the road, the white lines barely visible in the newfound gloom. "No, dude. Why, she hot?"
"She's attractive, yes. Way out of your league."
"Why are you bringing this up?"
"I thought it was relevant."
"Why's that?"
"Because you just met her."
"Huh?" Alex glanced at the rearview mirror and froze in terror. Had he not voided his bowels already, he would have done so now. His hands clenched the steering wheel, turning the knuckles white. He felt a chill crawl up his spine just as sweat beaded on his forehead.
"You met Sadie, right?" Mike said, his voice calm, an octave deeper than before.
Mike was sitting dead centre, his hands on his legs, his face staring directly at the rearview mirror and, as a result, his eyes bored into Alex. His eyes were solid red, blood red, orbs of bottomless gory darkness. His grin was one of pure, unadulterated evil. It was literally dripping with blood and saliva, the fluid dripping as his smile widened, baring smashed teeth.
"What did you think of my sister?"
Alex said nothing, his eyes transfixed on the being in the back seat. The eyes were swirling, like a crimson typhoon. What did I think? Past tense. Did, not do. Realisation dawned on Alex as he readjusted his grip on the steering wheel. "No way."
Mike nodded. "What did you think of Sadie?"
Alex swallowed, his dry throat aching as he did so. "I … I never met your sister … Sadie … her."
"Lies. You met her. You met her when you stuck your dick in her, fucked her, handed her to one of your cretin friends. You treated her like a toy and disposed of her. You met her when you murdered her in cold blood."
Alex said nothing.
"She was my sister."
"You got the wrong guy," Alex uttered. Urine sprayed down his leg, soaking his jeans. "I swear you got the wrong guy."
"No, I didn’t. You know how I know this?"
"I swear …"
Mike cocked his head sideways, giving him a menacing and predatory stance, like a viper assessing its prey. "The key is in the details. Everyone in Widow's Peak has heard the story. It changes, sure, like most urban legends do. Chinese whispers and all that. But, your version stuck. The small details gave you away."
"What are you talking about?"
"Well, first, the seventeen dollars. It's a trivial detail. However, any kid in school would take seventeen dollars for giving someone a ride, especially a pretty girl like Sadie. Hell, some would do it for free and leave her with money in her pocket for a relieving coffee afterwards. However, you, with your father's trust fund, laughed in her face. Seventeen dollars might as well be toilet paper to you … keep your eyes on the road."
Alex flicked his eyes back to the road. He was familiar with the layout. It was straight for several miles. His eyes hesitantly returned to the mirror.
"Second was the eyes. I spoke to a hundred people about Sadie's death – no one had a clue we were related, why would they, I was born in a different state with a different surname – and you were the only one who mentioned the eyes. A detail that, in some horror stories, would be too inventive, too unrealistic. You didn’t know Sadie suffered from a condition that caused severely bloodshot eyes. Blunt force trauma is just one of the reasons this can occur. I remember waking up and seeing Sadie in the upstairs hallway and her eyes were red, it terrified me. She'd done it by hitting her head on the doorframe whilst going to the toilet. However, you were the only person who mentioned it. Therefore, I know you did it."
Alex gulped. The game was up. "You'll
never take me down for it. You don’t have any proof."
"I know."
"My Dad will get me off. His money can get me out of anything."
"I know."
"You can't prove that I raped and murdered your sister. No one will believe you. I was born here, grew up here. You came here a year ago. It's my word, my wealthy word, against yours. Homegrown rich kid against an outsider."
"I know," Mike replied, his grin was disappearing slowly. Blood was dripping into his lap, splattering the leather seat between his thighs.
Alex grinned, gaining control. "So why don’t I drive home, you get out, and you go about your business. We don’t have to see each other again. You can pin it on someone else, but I'll be hiding behind the best lawyers in the country. You won't be able to touch me. It's the only resolution for this dilemma."
"Why would I do that?"
"Why? You don’t have a choice."
"Who says I want justice? Who says I want to take you to court? Money won't bring Sadie back."
"You want justice, oh you do, why would you bring me up here? You have no choice though, but to let me go. My Dad knows where I am."
"There's one more option."
Alex chuckled. "What would that be, dickhead?"
"I kill you myself."
"Huh?"
Alex's left arm snapped back, shattering at the forearm. Bone shredded the flesh and expensive sweater, spraying the window with dark blood and viscera. His hand flopped about on the end of the broken limb. Seconds later, Alex screamed, the pain washing over him.
"Oh, would you look at that?"
Alex began to cry. His flesh started to pale, the sight of blood making him queasy. Alex remembered that night, seeing the blood on Sadie's toned stomach and torn pussy, minutes after her death. He remembered how dead pussy smelt. He got his accomplice to finish the job, puking in the van to restrict evidence. He looked at his broken arm and groaned, feeling vomit rise from his stomach. "What … what are you doing?"
"I think that's fairly obvious."
Alex's other arm snapped at the forearm, repeating the injury. More blood spurted, this time splattering the passenger seat and dash with droplets of blood. It sounded like rain as blood sprayed from the broken artery in the wrist, soaking the interior of the car.
"Arghhhh, you Muthafucker …"
"I haven't even started yet."
