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

by Caroline Clark

  Steve pulled desperately on the oars. “We’re doing fine, kids. Let’s sing a song.”

  Lucy held onto Bunkie, but she was huddled next to Chase, her face white, her lips trembling. Chase had an arm around her, his lips drawn thin, but he nodded.

  Steve looked back at the shore; the figure was gone. He breathed a sigh of relief. Maybe they were too far from the ... what? The spirit’s influence? He eased up on the oars, allowing his heart to have a breather.

  But before he had time to relax, he caught a flash of white in the water, just at the edge of his vision. A crazy fear gripped him and he froze for a second. Recovering, he steered the boat away from it.

  The white appeared on the other side of the boat. He saw it better this time, a tatter of cloth on a decomposed arm. He steered away again, the boat now going in a crazy zigzag pattern.

  The white appeared again to the right of the boat. He saw a glint of cold steel raised out of the blackness of the lake. Steve felt his heart stabbing in his chest and moved the boat away again. How long could he keep this up?

  He steered the boat from side to side, avoiding the flash of white or deadly steel, sometimes only by inches. He was tiring; his arms ached, and his chest was tight.

  The kids huddled together in the center of the boat, never uttering a word.

  Steve searched the murky waters. It was gone. He set the boat back on a straight course and pulled on the oars. During their crazy meandering course, they had hardly made any ground and he was already exhausted. Yet, he had to keep going. He could rest when they were safe.

  “Are we safe?” Lucy asked, her voice small in the dark.

  “Yes, pumpkin,” Steve answered.

  They heard a scrape, like steel on the bottom of the boat.

  “Did we hit something?” Chase asked.

  The noise came again, like a finger on a blackboard. It set Steve’s nerves on edge. He knew this lake well. There was nothing here to hit. The realization hit him. “Get your legs up.”

  Lucy turned and looked, her eyes huge in the moonlight. Tears had dried on her cheeks, and she looked so young and so vulnerable.

  Chase tapped her leg and pulled her knees to lift her feet off the boat. He started to do the same, just as a glint of steel came through the wooden hull and nicked his ankle. He cried out and pulled his feet up onto the bench.

  Lauren surfaced through the grimy water to the left of the boat. Her long hair was plastered to her head, and she wore the tattered white dress. She wheezed to clear the water from her lungs and looked desperately at Steve. Her face seemed to fold in on itself and became Val; the shorter, straighter hair, the spiteful eyes, and the mean set to the jaw was all that differentiated the two women. The fight between the two individuals thrashed the water into a whirlpool, and then the corpse was back.

  For a second, brown eyes met with Steve’s and seemed to plead for help, or release, he didn’t know which, and then they clouded, became milky white, and the corpse sank. The right hand held the knife above the water, before slowly disappearing into the cold, dark depths.

  “Lauren.” Steve dropped the oars and searched the water. It bubbled where the fight had been, gradually settling, until it was still. The inky-black depths did not allow him to see through the surface to what lay beneath.

  “No.”

  Steve was unsure what to do. He wanted to jump in and search for his wife, but the lake was not that deep, and he had to worry about the children. He stood, rocking the boat, and leaned toward the side. The boat tilted precariously.

  “Dad, look.” Chase tugged at his arm and pointed at the cabin. They could just see the rocking chair, silhouetted in the moonlight. It was empty.

  Steve sat down, righting the boat that rocked from side to side as it gradually settled. He felt lost, defeated. Tears prickled at the corner of his eyes as he stared at the water. Had Lauren drowned herself to save them? Could he still find her? He stood up, scouring the surface of the water; he wanted to jump in, to search the depths.

  “Daddy.” Lucy was clutching a bedraggled Bunkie to her chest, sucking on his ear.

  Steve looked at her, her eyes wide and pleading. “It’s gone,” he said. Staring into the waters, he whispered, “Lauren.”

  “Dad,” Lucy asked again, her lip quivering, her eyes filled with moisture.

  Steve stared at the now smooth, black surface of the lake; there was no sign of any disturbance.

  “Dad.” Lucy tugged at his sleeve.

  “What?”

  “My feet are getting wet.”

  Chapter 28

  “Torch,” Steve shouted. She’s gone. How can she be gone?

  The light came on, and Steve grabbed it from Chase. He shone it down at the boat. Water was pouring through a dozen holes. Steve put his boot over one of them, trying to stop the water.

  “Crap.”

  He started rowing back to shore. This can’t be happening; we can’t go back. His muscles screamed as he hauled on the oars to turn the now unwieldy boat back the way they had come.

  “Kids, we’re gonna get wet. Stay together. We’ll be fine.”

  He had to keep calm, but inside he was screaming, terrified that Lauren might be dead, and petrified of going back to the cabin and the horrors that awaited them there. As his arms fought the weight of the cumbersome boat, he fought the despair that threatened to drag him down with it.

  He pulled hard on the oars, but the boat was slowing down. It felt like his arm and shoulder muscles were being yanked from their sockets, and they cried out with anguish against the searing pain. Sweat ran down his back and made his hands slippery. Still, he rowed harder, grunting with effort, but it was too late; they were going down, fast.

  “Chase, you okay to swim?”

  “I think so.” Chase had a tremor in his voice. “But, Dad ... has it gone?”

  “Yes, but get out of the water as fast as you can.”

  Steve pulled Lucy to him. The cold water was climbing the sides of the boat and was already halfway up his leg. Lucy had her feet on the bench and clung to the edge of the wood. He tried to lift her, but she held on so tight that she wouldn’t move. Panic seized him. He pulled, but still she wouldn’t let go. In desperation, he released his hold and pried her fingers loose.

  At last she released the boat, and he pulled her close; she felt warm against the cold night.

  Chase hesitated before the dark, cold water. His fear showed in his eyes and the tension of his shoulders. He took one last look and then stepped into the lake. He sank down, beneath the water.

  Steve felt momentary panic, but the yellow life jacket bounced him back above the surface, and Chase struck out for the shore.

  As the boat went down, Steve hoisted Lucy up onto his shoulders. The water was shockingly cold against the warmth of his sweaty skin. It sucked out his breath and iced his lungs. He breathed deeply and stepped forward just as the boat hit the bottom. The water slowed his motion and he stumbled and plunged into its icy depths.

  His head was just above the surface.

  Lucy kicked into his sides, rocking and flapping. He held on tight as she swayed, almost taking him down. He steadied himself and took a step. The boat rolled beneath him.

  “Lucy, keep still.”

  And then it settled. He took another step across the uneven wood, and it moved away from his foot. Steady, just take it steady, you can do this.

  The night seemed darker as he set off toward the shore. He was panting. Not sure whether it was panic or exertion, he took in a slow breath. It wasn’t that far to shore and the apparition, spook, body thing seemed to have gone.

  Lauren?

  He couldn’t think of her now; he had to get Lucy out of the water. The next step took him off the boat and his foot sank into the slime of the lake. Sucked down, he ducked under the water and took in a mouthful of stagnant water, but then he was upright again. Spitting and coughing, he inched toward the shore.

  “Keep going, son,” he shouted after Chas
e. “Get out of the water and stay out.”

  Steve searched the lake’s surface as he got closer and closer to the shore. The water wasn’t deep, but it was cold. Lucy’s skin was icy but she had relaxed her grip on him and seemed to be enjoying the ride.

  “Daddy, this is fun,” she said, waving Bunkie about his face.

  He slipped again and dunked her legs into the water. She squeezed tight and clutched onto this hair, pulling out a clump as she lost her balance. He raised an arm and pulled her back so she was level. “Not so much, actually.” He took another careful step toward the shore.

  “I’m scared,” Lucy almost shrieked into his ear.

  Steve strode out quicker; there was less resistance against him as the water got shallower the closer he got to shore.

  He watched as Chase walked out of the shallows and turned to look at them. He was safe.

  “We’re nearly there, and you’re safe. Just a ride on Daddy’s shoulders, and then a nice bath and a hot chocolate.”

  Steve spotted movement at the water’s edge, just behind Chase. Something white emerged from the lake. He felt his body tense, and he raced onward.

  Val trudged out of the water, a bedraggled figure in white. As she stepped onto the shore, the wraith dress shimmered and was replaced with the old-fashioned skirt and blouse. She turned to him; her face wore a satisfied sneer, and then she was gone.

  “Thank God,” Steve said as they stepped onto the shore.

  “What?” Chase asked.

  “Nothing, just ... we’re all safe and ALL ALIVE.” He placed Lucy down on the shoreline and pulled both of the children to him. Hugging them tightly, he delighted in the feel of their warm bodies through the freezing wet clothes.

  “We’re not leaving?” Lucy asked.

  “Not tonight, sweetie.” He felt something move across his foot and looked down. Bugs writhed below them on the stone beach. Thousands of squirming, crawling, skittering black things were beneath and on top of their feet. He controlled a shudder and shook his foot. The kids were so relieved, they hadn’t noticed, and they didn’t need to know.

  “We have to get you warm.” He guided them off the beach.

  Chapter 29

  Steve hustled the children off the shore and across the sparse grass toward the cabin. Fatigue dragged him down as the adrenaline spike that had spurred him out of the water left. The muscles across his chest and arms throbbed and his legs felt like stone.

  Up ahead, the figure reappeared and he watched Val as she reached the deck and sat down. Then she changed and it was Lauren, her head hung forward, exhausted in the rocker. She was dripping wet, and a cough racked from her lungs. Dropping her head between her legs, her long curls almost on the deck, lake water streamed from her as she choked and coughed and spluttered. But she was alive, and if he could get to her, get her out of the chair, while she was Lauren?

  He picked up the pace, his sore legs complaining as he pushed the kids back to the cabin.

  Lauren sat up and stared right at him, her warm blue eyes pleading. She reached out her arms, imploring him, as if he could save her, prevent her from drowning in the horror that was Val. Letting go of the children, Steve raced toward her.

  The image shimmered, and Val was back. Steve stopped in his tracks and Lucy and Chase almost slammed into him. Ahead of them, a raven cawed and landed on Val’s shoulder.

  “Chase, look down. Lucy Loo, eyes closed, or no ice-cream for a month.”

  He felt Chase take his sister and pull her to him, her back to the deck.

  Steve glanced at them and then walked to the deck. He wanted to run up and shake the woman before him, and he wanted to run away. Next to the chair, the paper flapped as if stirred by the wind until it settled on a page. The chair rocked backward.

  Beside the chair, the paper showed a faded photo of a young girl with dark hair and serious eyes; she was Lucy’s age. Val sneered at him, her confidence unnerving.

  The chair rocked backward, and a young girl stared at him. Her dark hair framed a drawn face with sunken eyes and swollen lips. The chair dwarfed her petite body. Her eyes, so young, so innocent, pleaded as tears traced lines down her blood-smeared face.

  The raven hopped onto her shoulder.

  Steve stepped onto the deck, and the chair rocked forward.

  Val sat there. She laughed at his expression and pushed the chair back with her toes to speed in on its way.

  He tried to grab it, but to no avail.

  The girl was back, her face blue from bruising and decomposition. Her lifeless eyes were a green-white and wide open. The oily black raven turned toward him. It opened its beak and squawked silently and then leaned over and pecked into the dead girl’s eye socket, peering back as it pulled out the glutinous prize.

  Steve covered his mouth, desperate not to scream. He felt like he had been punched in the stomach, as if he would drop to his knees and scream for this to stop. He stood there, frozen with fear and revulsion, staring at the tiny, broken figure, a father’s worst nightmare. A brief gust of wind flattened his wet shirt to his back, and the cold snapped him out of his misery. The children were freezing. He had to make it safe for them and get them warm.

  The chair rocked forward. Val’s vindictive lips curled back from her teeth, like a snarling dog that threatened to bite.

  Steve moved to within a foot of the chair and screamed, “Lauren, help me.”

  The chair started to rock back. He stepped onto the runner and stopped it mid-flow. “The children need you, Lauren. Help me. Fight this.”

  Val kicked his foot away. The oil-black raven appeared on her shoulder. Something heinous hung from its beak. Like a slimy red shoelace, it swung from side to side. The bird opened its grave black beak and squawked; the shoelace swung and then dropped to land on the deck as the squawk came from behind Steve.

  The shock sent heat up his spine and pinpricks down his arm, but he stepped on the chair and held it still. He could smell corruption and decay. It scorched his throat and stung his eyes. It made him want to run, but Lauren was alive and fighting; she would help them.

  “I don’t have children,” Val said, as she kicked at his foot. It bruised, but after what they’d been through, he was ready, and she couldn’t move him.

  He stared at her face, ignoring the bird, willing Lauren to hear him. “Damn it, Lauren, fight this bitch. You’re better than her. Do it for our babies. Our pumpkins need you.”

  Val licked her lips obscenely. “Yummy, pumpkin pie.”

  “Lauren, please.” His legs ached, holding the chair, but he couldn’t bear to see any more horror; he wouldn’t let it rock back.

  “She’s not here, sweetie pie.” Val pushed the chair forward, taking Steve off balance, his foot slipped, and it started to rock backward.

  Lucy ran onto the deck. “Mummy, please help me. I’m so cold.”

  It looked as if the chair would rock backward, but it slowed and stopped. Val changed subtly. Her hair lengthened, her face relaxed, and then she was Lauren.

  The raven flapped its wings and alighted into the air before disappearing into smoke. Steve grabbed Lauren’s hand and pulled her from the chair. She was distant for a second, confused. She looked down at Lucy, soaking wet and shivering. Her face cleared, and before Steve could stop her, she grabbed Lucy’s tiny blue hand and hurried into the cabin.

  Chapter 30

  Wrapped in a huge fluffy towel, Chase leaned against the bathroom wall. He looked exhausted, and a little shell-shocked, and his eyes would flick from the floor to his dad and back again.

  Lucy sat in the bath, covered with bubbles. She bounced Bunkie up and down, in and out of the froth, singing happily. Steve pulled his towel around him, trying to dry out his clothes as he knelt on the floor next to the bath. He still felt cold but knew it was just shock; the cabin was warm and toasty.

  He winked at Chase but got no smile in return. “Well, kids, that was some day.” He was doing his best to keep their spirits up, or maybe his own. They
had to get through the night.

  “Bunkie’s tired, but he likes skiing on the bubbles.” Lucy was oblivious to the tension in the room as she played with the soaked toy, diving him in and out of the water. “Mummy’s seems better.”

  “Yes, she does.” Steve’s words were positive, but his face couldn’t hide the fear he felt. The door opened, and he jumped up. As Lauren walked in, he was ready for anything.

  She still wore the skirt and blouse, old-fashioned clothes that looked out of place, but she was his Lauren, not that thing that what? Had possessed her?

  “The fire’s glowing. Why don’t you two boys go get warm?” She moved tentatively over to the bath, to wash Lucy’s hair.

  Steve grabbed her hand and took the shampoo. “Chase, you go. I’m staying right here.”

  Lauren looked down, ashamed, and maybe a little afraid.

  “Where’s my Sim card?” Steve asked.

  “What?” She looked genuinely surprised.

  “We walked all that way, the kids are exhausted, and we’re stuck here. Where’s the bloody Sim card?”

  Lucy had stopped splashing, catching onto the growing tension.

  “I don’t know. I’ll make dinner. Do you all want pie?”

  “No. No more bloody pies. Let’s just stay together.”

  Chapter 31

  A warming fire roared in the hearth, but the ambiance in the room was anything but toasty. Chase and Lucy lay in front of the fire, both in their dressing gowns. They were like dolls, so small and fragile and so easily broken. Lucy was almost asleep, Bunkie clutched in her hands as she chewed on a tattered blue ear. She looked exhausted, and Steve found it hard to take his eyes from her; they had been so lucky today.

  She seemed to have recovered from the shock and had been complaining about her legs, but for now, she rested. Chase had him more worried. The boy was always quiet, but he usually had his head in a book. Now he just lay there and stared into space.