Daddy Won't Kill You- The Haunting in the Woods

by Caroline Clark

Chase nodded. “I feel really crawly. There were insects … did you smell that?”

  “I know. Don’t think about it.”

  “Dad, Bunkie feels really poorly,” Lucy said, her voice so low he had to lean into her.

  “I know, honey, but we are going home now.”

  “Dad, what should we do?” Chase asked as the tears nearly escaped his eyes.

  “Get in. We’re leaving.” Steve wanted to hug him, to pull them both close and tell them everything was okay, but he was worried about Lauren. Would she eat the pie? What would that do to her? Something told him that she was a danger to herself, but was she a danger to the children? For a moment he wanted to get into the car and drive away, leaving her there, but he knew that was crazy. He ran around the car and headed back to the deck.

  Lauren sat in the chair, rocking and eating the insect pie as if it was perfectly normal. Her hair looked different, straighter, old-fashioned, and almost a bob.

  “Your hair?” Steve asked. Even with all that was going on, her hair seemed so very strange, almost surreal.

  She bit into a piece of pie. It crunched as she chewed and swallowed.

  The sound went through Steve, grating on his nerves, and he swallowed the bile that formed in his throat. This had to be a nightmare. It couldn’t be real, and yet he knew it was … what was happening?

  “Honey, let’s go for a drive.”

  Her plate crawled with squirming insects and that rotten, putrid meat.

  “No, I’m eating,” she said, as calm as a cucumber. “Sit down. We don’t want it to go cold.” She smiled and continued crunching down the insects.

  Steve shuddered; each bite set his nerves on edge and his stomach roiled with the thought of it. The insects crunched as she bit down on hard shells or spindly spider legs. Each time she chewed, he wanted to be sick, and it was pushing him to breaking point.

  She took another mouthful. A centipede was half in and half out of her mouth. It wiggled, a black-legged string against the white of her chin. He watched, stunned, as she used her tongue to scoop it in.

  “That’s it.” He gently reached for her wrists. “Let’s go,” he said.

  She stabbed at him with her knife, grazing his arm, and in a deeper voice than usual, she said, “Not until I’ve eaten. And you’re not spoiling the kids. They either eat up, or no food for a week.”

  “I think they’ll take the second option.” Steve tried to catch her hands.

  “You bastard! You’re turning them against me,” Lauren screamed. She turned the knife at him and slashed at his arms.

  Steve dodged the blows, unsure what to do. He looked at the car and started to leave. No, he couldn’t leave without her; she needed help.

  He stepped behind her and tried to pin her arms. She flung her plate at him, covering him with rotten meat and crawling insects. A piece hit his cheek. He fought the urge to claw it off and pinned her arms to her side. The meat stank and slid down his cheek. The sensation was so intense that it took all his nerve to not wipe it away as he felt insects crawl onto his skin.

  A quick step to the side and he lunged, pinning her arms and holding her for a moment. Once more, it seemed unreal. What was he doing? And yet he knew he had to get her away. Before his nerve could fail, he pulled her out of the chair.

  “You dirty bastard, you just want to use me,” she yelled.

  “Lauren, calm down.” Steve held on as she bucked in his arms. “Let’s just go for a drive.”

  She relaxed in his arms. At last, he thought.

  She leaned forward and then brought her head back with her full weight, trying to smash his nose with her skull. Steve hugged her tight, holding her with ease, but she struggled and bucked in his arms and he knew that soon she would break free.

  What should I do?

  Desperately, he searched for something to help him, anything to hold her and keep her calm, for the more she struggled, the more he feared she would injure herself. The table was a writhing mess and all his eyes wanted to do was stare, but he dragged them away as she thrashed in his arms, screaming and shouting out filth and insults.

  Holding her close, he swept everything off the table. Crockery and food crashed onto the deck; plates shattered and food and insects littered the wooden deck. Laying her on the table, he ignored the insects as they scurried in all directions and did his best to avoid her eyes. They were like a storm-laced sky, full of threat and a promise of trouble ahead.

  She was snapping at him now, trying to bite his face. “Eric, stop this, you evil bastard,” she screamed between bites.

  Eric! There was no time to wonder if he had heard right, or to wonder who Eric was. He pulled her scarf from her neck and quickly tied her hands. Despite her struggles, his own hands were so much bigger and stronger, and he easily secured her with her scarf.

  “Eric, you hurt me again, and I swear I will kill you,” she spat at him through gritted teeth.

  Who is Eric?

  She was still trying to bite, leaning up from the table as far as she could, then kicking out at him, anything to cause hurt to try and escape.

  Mortified, he pulled off his belt and, managing to avoid being kicked, he quickly secured her feet. She was lying on the table tied up, but still struggling as an earwig ran across her arm.

  Steve shuddered and brushed it away. God, he hated earwigs! He barely avoided her teeth as she bit out again. Horrified, he scanned the area.

  “You lying, cheating, useless, lay-about bastard,” she screamed.

  Steve grabbed a towel from the back of a chair. “You can scream at me as much as you want, but the kids don’t need to hear it.” He shook out the towel and rolled it up. Gently, he pulled her upward, so her face was resting against his chest. She bit into him, teeth easily going through his shirt and ripping into his flesh. He reeled back. “Jesus, Lauren.”

  He grabbed a napkin from the debris by the table and shook it to be sure there were no bugs. Guilt almost stayed his hand but he shoved it into her mouth and then used the towel to secure the homemade gag.

  She calmed for a moment.

  “Are you all right?” he asked. “I’m sorry, but I don’t know what else to do.”

  Her eyes were ice-cold and as wild as a lion’s in a bear trap. She tried to bash him with her head, again and again, but he held her down with one hand. For long seconds, he waited, hoping she would calm, but somehow he knew the best thing to do was get her away from here. He knew that if they left, she would be fine. Hoisting her from the table, he gently threw her over his shoulder in a fireman’s lift. Grabbing a rope from the deck, he carried her to the car.

  Chapter 16

  Steve dropped Lauren into the passenger seat. She had stopped struggling, but her eyes held a world of contempt. Searching his mind for what to tell the children, he fastened the rope around her and secured her to the seat.

  She seemed to be waiting for something and her look had changed to a knowing expression.

  “You two ready for a drive?” he asked.

  “Is this a game?” Lucy peered at him from the back of the car, her voice wavering a little.

  “Dad, what’s wrong with Mum?” Chase said.

  Steve brushed maggots and a stray earwig from his clothes. He forced himself not to shudder in front of the children; they must not know how freaked out he was.

  As he got into the car, Lauren’s eyes followed his movements with a malignancy that scared him though for now she was calm.

  “Mum’s not well, but don’t worry. We will soon get her help.” Though he kept his voice level and gave the kids a confident smile, his hands were shaking and his knees felt as if they would fail at any moment. What is wrong with Lauren? Where should I take her?

  The only thing he could think of was the hospital, which was a good 80 miles away. There was a doctor in the nearest village but even that was a long way by road.

  Taking one last look, he almost gasped at the malevolence of her gaze. Pulling his own eyes away, he left her, cli
mbed into the driver’s seat, and closed the door. “Ready for that drive?” he asked again.

  “But the fish?” Chase whined, and his face crumpled.

  “I’ll come back for them.” Steve checked the kids in the rear-view mirror. They were surprisingly calm.

  “I’m hungry,” Lucy said.

  “I know, sweetie. We’ll eat soon.”

  He put the key in and tried the engine. It turned over but would not fire. He tried again and again. Each time it turned over, a grating, laboring sound raised his pulse and stole his hope, but still, it would not fire. With each turn the battery was starting to fade, and the engine seemed to be winding down.

  Lauren looked on, knowing, spiteful. Her eyes were ice blue. Much lighter than normal, they seemed to cut right through to his heart.

  Steve closed his own eyes. It must be the light; no way could her eyes change color. With a feeling of despair, he reached down, popped the hood, and got out of the car.

  Lifting the metal, he stared into the engine bay and a deep dread settled like ice in his intestines. The plug leads had all been cut. The severed ends seemed to wave at him as if to say, stuck now, aren’t you?

  Inside the car, Lauren looked insanely pleased.

  “You can fix it, Dad, can’t you?” Chase called from the back seat.

  “Not without parts,” Steve said. “You two wait here.”

  He opened Lauren’s door and untied the rope so he could get her out of the car.

  The instant she was freed, she kicked out at him as he grabbed her from the car. Those icy blue eyes seemed to fill her face and they chilled him to the core.

  Ignoring them, he threw her once more over his shoulder, grabbing the rope from the car as she fought to get free. Why is this happening? The thought did him no good but it kept coming back to his mind. Was this a breakdown? Had she finally cracked under the pressure and if so, how could he help her? How can I keep the kids safe?

  Lauren struggled against him as he carried her back to the house. It was like holding a teenager who was having a three-year-old’s temper tantrum. She kicked and thrashed against him and he slipped on the grass, his feet scrabbling beneath him to regain his step. A pain stabbed into his chest and breathing became hard.

  He adjusted her on his shoulder and pulled his arms tighter around her legs, pinning her to his chest. With her clamped against him, he stepped onto the deck and the chair started to rock.

  “What the …”

  He ground to a halt. It seemed to emanate evil, or was he just going mad? It was just a chair, after all. Stepping to one side, he gave it as wide a berth as he could and pushed through the door into the cabin.

  Holding Lauren tightly to him, he carried her through the narrow doorways, afraid she would fight at the wrong time and smash her head into the wooden walls. Bit by bit, he tiptoed along the wooden floors and held his breath in anticipation. Swinging her sideways, he made it into the bedroom, the room they had made love in at the start of this holiday. How could things go so wrong so quickly?

  Gently, he lowered her onto the covers and tenderly positioned her against the headboard. Taking the rope, he prepared to tie her to the bed.

  Sky-blue eyes stared up at him, clouded with confusion. Tears pricked at their corners and her lips trembled. Despite the gag, she tried to talk, and a muffled voice came through.

  Dropping the rope, he removed the gag with shaking fingers.

  “Steve, what’s happening … how did I get here?” she asked.

  Steve blinked. Had her eyes changed color again? Was he going mad?

  Staring up at him, she looked vulnerable, hurt, and he so wanted to hold her.

  Lauren held her hands up and looked down at them as if she had only just realized they were still tied with the scarf. Tears ran down her cheeks. “What is happening?” she sobbed.

  Confusion taunted Steve. Was this an act? Picking up the rope, he started to tie her.

  “What are you doing?” Her voice was high with panic.

  The rope dropped from his fingers. What am I doing? For a moment he wondered if it had really all happened. The pie, the anger, the words she had said. Eric? He sat down on the edge of the bed and gently stroked her cheek.

  “Please forgive me,” he said.

  Deep, body-wracking sobs shook her shoulders and made her look so defenseless. “What is happening to me?” she asked through the tears.

  Steve pulled her close, feeling her shake against his chest. “I don’t know.”

  She pulled away and searched his face. “God, Steve, are you all right?”

  “I’m fine,” he said, ignoring the pain in his left arm and a slight tightness in his chest.

  “You’re sure? No pain, no tightness, no shortness of breath?” Concern had dried her tears in their tracks and now she just looked exhausted.

  “I’m good,” he said, “but what the hell is happening?”

  Lauren leaned back against the headboard, her hands and legs still tied. She closed her eyes and let out a long, sorrowful breath; she seemed to be steeling herself to tell him something.

  Though he wanted to shake her, to demand answers, Steve waited, knowing she would take her time and work things out in her own mind before she rushed into talking.

  At last, she opened her eyes and he could see the terror mirrored there. “It’s the chair,” she said. “I perceive things in it. Horrible, evil things, and time acts differently. You tell me you’ve been gone all day, but it’s been minutes.” She faltered and looked away as color rose on her cheeks.

  “What?” Steve didn’t know whether to be relieved or shocked. Could the damn chair be...? No, this was stupid. She was tired and stressed and having an emotional breakdown. Of course things seemed wrong.

  Her voice cut through his thoughts.

  “Such terrible things, I see and feel … don’t you believe me?”

  Steve reached out a hand and caressed her cheek; she felt so cold. “It’s just stress,” he said.

  She pushed the hand away. “No, something’s wrong. It’s the chair … you have to believe me.”

  “Who’s Eric?” Steve asked.

  “I don’t know … why?” Lauren looked genuinely confused.

  “You were shouting about him, to him. Jesus, Lauren, has someone hurt you? Have you been seeing someone else?” Steve looked at her, trying to read her, but he was almost afraid to hear her answer.

  “No,” she answered immediately.

  She looked genuine, but he couldn’t let it go. “Is that why you mentioned divorce? Lauren, are you cheating on me?”

  She leaned toward him, as if to hug him, but the scarf tying her hands prevented any contact. “No,” she said, shaking her head. “I’m not seeing anyone. I don’t even know an Eric.”

  Steve pulled back, looked at her tied hands, and moved to untie them. But, no, he didn’t trust her yet. “Then why were you shouting his name?”

  Confusion marred her brow and she closed her eyes, as if trying to remember. Then, it was as if a light bulb went off in her mind. “It’s her. The lady from the chair … oh ... You don’t believe me.”

  What madness was this? A lady from the chair. Steve rubbed his hands through his hair, what should he believe? “I don’t know,” he said. “Lauren, I’m sorry, but we can’t do this to the kids.”

  Her face dropped. “Oh, God, Steve. Go to them. See that they’re all right.”

  He looked at her bound hands and legs, wanting to free her. But what would she do? “I don’t trust you, not after today.”

  “Then tie me to the bed. I’ll stay here until you get the truck fixed.”

  Should he leave her free and untie her hands?

  “No,” she said. “Tie me up and gag me—just in case.”

  He tied her gently to the bed and replaced the gag. He ran a tender hand under her chin, brushing off dust and God knows what, and then kissed her cheek before rushing out. He had left the children way too long.

  Chapter 17
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br />   Steve raced out of the cabin and across the grass to the car. His heart pounded against his chest like a drummer from a rock band and he could feel a tightness there.

  Chase stood beside the SUV, his face drawn with worry.

  In the back, Lucy was still strapped into her seat. She swung her legs and clutched Bunkie to her chest, as if she would never let him go.

  Steve pushed his hand through his hair and thanked his lucky stars the kids were fine. He wanted to hug them tight and never let them go but realized he must act as normal as possible. The lighter he made of what had just happened, the easier they would forget it.

  “Is Mum okay?” Chase asked.

  “She’s fine, but we need to get her to the doctor.” Steve pulled out his mobile. The flashing no-signal sign felt like a punch to the guts. Shaking the phone, he checked again.

  “We can get a signal at the top of the pass,” Chase said. “Remember, we managed to post some pictures from there last time.”

  Steve nodded, hopped on the car bumper, and then pulled himself up onto the roof. He held the phone up high, but they were surrounded by hills and miles and miles of forest. The cabin was a magnificent, remote retreat but they had never been able to use their phones. That had been one of the things that Lauren loved and he hated in the past. This trip it had been he who was glad they were cut off from her work. How things had changed.

  “Top of the pass, Dad,” Chase repeated.

  Steve climbed down from the car and ruffled his head. “Yes, I know, but that’s too far for tonight.”

  “Dad. Daddy,” Lucy called from the car. “Can I have some food that doesn’t have any wormies in it?”

  Steve and Chase laughed. “How about a cheese toasty?”

  “Deeeelicieious. Can Mummy have some?”

  “Yes, she can, but you two leave Mummy to me. Keep away from her until she’s better.”

  Steve left the cabin and stepped into the dark. The chill air flattened his shirt to his chest and sucked the breath from him, causing a shudder to run down his spine. Or was it something else? The deck was in deep shadow, there was no moon, and very little light this far from any habitation. He looked up to an ink- black sky, dotted with a million stars, all clearly visible; they could have a frost tonight.