Playing with Fire (Anthology of Horror)

by Chryse; Coral Russell; Brian Fatah Steele; CAV Laster; Nomar Knight; Robynn Gabel; Susan Evelyn Wymer

  She scooted backwards on her rear, focusing on Lee's panic-stricken face. His lips trembled as if he was trying to say something. Her attention dropped to his legs. They were moving in awkward, jerky strides. He clenched and opened his hands. "Lee?"

  Lynn stared into his now terrified eyes, the muscles in his jaws popping until one word escaped. "RUN!"

  To her horror, an inky blackness leaked from the corners of his eyes and faded into his pupils. "Lee!" she screamed as the blackness overtook his eyes.

  He lunged forward. She pushed herself back to the top of the stairs. Lynn fell onto her back and kicked her legs up, catching Lee in the chest. She rolled toward the stairs, sending him crashing down to the floor below.

  Lynn belly-flopped down several steps. She turned over, breathing hard. Her husband lay face down on the floor at the bottom of the stairs. "Lee?" she whispered.

  The soft, ticking sounds of appliances echoed through the house. She crawled down the stairs and nudged him with her toe, expecting him to sit up and grab her.

  What the hell just happened to her husband? Her eyes never left his motionless body until she closed the front door and raced to her car.

  Speeding away from their house, she tapped the number 9-1-1 and told the operator that her husband had fallen down the stairs. Then she hung up and called Hector.

  ***

  Lynn hugged herself as she paced in front of the impressive art deco Basset Tower. She glimpsed the ten stone eagles, America's gargoyles, perched on the tenth floor of the building, all facing east. Footsteps signaled the approach of Hector and Marcos trotting up the sidewalk to meet her.

  Lynn was trying hard not to burst into tears, but her voice came out shaky, "What in the hell is going on? Is my husband possessed?"

  "We think he is possessed by a minion of one of the devil's demons that was contacted using the black magic portal in the Franciscan Hotel," Marcos explained.

  "So, we burn down the hotel."

  "It's not that easy. The portal doesn't necessarily belong to this dimension, so destroying the building won't change much."

  "There's got to be something we can do!"

  "We think," Marcos nodded at Hector, "and this may sound just as crazy, there is a way to balance out the black magic portal with a white magic portal in this building."

  "Oh, screw this! I should have gone to the police," Lynn said as she began to back away.

  "Hear us out, Lynn," said Hector, "We think you're the one who needs to help us close it. Everything we need is in here." Hector held up a black backpack.

  "I can't believe I even thought of doing this. Oh my God, I should be at the hospital or with the cops. I probably killed my husband!" Her phone rang. She jumped, and almost dropped it, before answering the call. "Yes, yes I called. Did you find him? Is he alright?" She paused, listening.

  She stared at her phone until Marcos reached out and touched her arm, "Are you alright? What happened?"

  "Nothing," she said. "He's gone."

  "Lynn, you obviously love your husband. We don't want anything to happen to you two. If we try to close the portal, it not only helps you now; it also stops anyone else from using the portal ever again. We can't eliminate it, but we might balance out the powers again."

  Lynn lowered her head, and then nodded. "We need to get going. I think he's headed here."

  "What makes you think that?"

  "His eyes. He was scared and I don't think he had a choice. This minion wants him to stop me from doing what you think we need to do."

  "OK, I'll explain on the way up," said Marcos.

  "Way up where?"

  "The tenth floor with all the eagles. We think that's where the portal should be built."

  "What's the plan?"

  "We'll use the fire escape to reach the tenth floor. Open a window, somehow, and find the center of that floor. Draw a white magic circle with salt. Here, I've written out the prayer for you to use. After that, I'm not sure exactly what's going to happen." Marcos put on the black backpack and they headed to the back of the building.

  Around the fourth set of stairs, Lynn heard heavy breathing behind her.

  "I told you to start working out," Marcos called back.

  "Now? Now's the time you want to bring that up?" Hector said.

  "Just saying."

  "Do something useful and tell her why we're doing this."

  "Because you can't, since you're out of breath."

  "Cabron."

  "Lynn, remember all the symbols on this building?" Marcos said.

  "Yep."

  "Well, there are five major ones repeated throughout the building. You've got the fleur de lis, symbol of the Virgin Mary; an acorn and leaf, symbol of patience; a seashell, symbol of pilgrimage; the Green Man, symbol of rebirth; and eagles, symbol of strength and power. All of eagles on the entire building face east."

  "Why?"

  "The symbols also have magic properties like air, fire, earth, and water. The eagles also represent air for spirituality and change, with force, if necessary."

  "So why are they on the tenth floor?"

  "The number ten represents harmony and creation. Since the eagles are on that floor, it should be the best place for the white magic portal."

  "But you don't know for sure?"

  "Well... ."

  "Jesus, guys!" Lynn slammed her hands down on the railing. "What if this doesn't work?"

  "Hey!" Hector yelled up from several flights below them. "Listen, I think someone else is on the fire escape." They all leaned over the railing as a black shape rounded the corner on the second floor.

  "Hector, you need to put it in high gear." Marcos ran up the couple of steps to grab Lynn and hurry her up.

  ""Wait, let me talk to him." She leaned over the railing and called down, "Lee! Lee, it's me, Lynn. Can you hear me?"

  The figure stopped. The face was Lee's, but his eyes were empty, black sockets. His face screwed up in anger as he let out an inhuman scream.

  "Nope, that's not gonna happen," said Marcos. "Come on, Lynn. We gotta go. Hector, it's a couple more flights. Better hurry your ass up!"

  Hector muttered, "

  Chingo."

  Lee sounded as if he was taking the steps two and three at a time. Lynn reached the tenth floor right behind Marcos who was searching for a way in.

  "Nothing," Marcos said. "These are all locked."

  "Do we break in?"

  "Yea, but Lee will be right behind us."

  "We'll need to lock him out when we get in."

  "Right. Back up."

  Lynn held the backpack as Marcos wrapped his arm with his jacket and broke in the glass window. She stepped back while he knocked glass out to clear the sill. Hector yelled from right under them, "Watch it!" as glass tinkled through the mesh of the fire escape.

  Marcos helped Lynn inside as Hector pounded up the last flight of stairs.

  "Go, go! He's right behind us." Hector grunted as he squeezed himself though the window. His black cowboy hat tumbled to the floor of the fire escape.

  "My hat!"

  "Forget the hat!"

  "No way," Hector leaned out to pick it up as Lee rounded the corner and stood on the landing not even breathing hard. The black holes fixed on Hector. "Ohhhh, shit!"

  Lee leaped. Marcos grabbed Hector by the collar of his shirt and hauled him back through the window. Lee crashed to the floor outside as they hit the tiled floor inside. Hector held up his hat, admired it for a second and put it back on his head.

  "Happy now?"

  "Yea," Hector gasped.

  Lee's face appeared in the window. Hector and Marcos scrambled to their feet as Lynn called out to them from behind and to the left.

  "Guys, come on! This way!" Lynn was holding open a door that lead to a hallway. "Here."

  Hector slid the last couple of feet in his cowboy boots. They passed through and she slammed the door shut as Lee cleared the windowsill. Lynn picked up a board to pin the door shut between the doorkno
b and a door brace on the floor.

  "This isn't going to hold him for long," said Marcos. "The door has a glass window too."

  "Well, where to now?" asked Lynn.

  "This way," Marcos said, pointing down a short hall to a set of double doors.

  They banged through the double doors and scrambled for another way to brace the doors shut. Marcos grabbed two shelves off an office wall and used them to jam the bars of the door handles from being released. "This isn't going to stop him for long, either."

  "We need to get started," Hector gasped as he stood, bent over, trying to catch his breath.

  Lynn moved down the hall, which opened up into a foyer that held the defunct elevators on the right. On the left, large ornate windows showcased the twinkling, cheerful downtown lights of El Paso. Lynn returned the backpack to Marcos who began pulling out boxes of salt.

  "Kosher salt? You going gourmet ghost hunter on me?" said Hector.

  "Shut up; it was on sale," Marcos said.

  "Does it make a difference?" said Lynn.

  "No, well... No, no it doesn't make a difference," said Hector. "Look, here's what you do..." The muffled sounds of glass breaking traveled down the corridor. Hector flipped open the spout on one container and handed it to her. He directed her to make a large circle while he muttered a prayer, "This Sacred Circle, my fortress be, in perfect love and perfect trust be though cast, so mote it be!" She had completed a third of the circle when Lee slammed into the double doors down the hall. "Hurry, once you complete the first circle, nothing should be able to pass."

  Lynn paused. "What about you guys?"

  "Don't worry about us," said Marcos from the hallway. "Just finish the circle. Hurry, the door's going to give."

  Lynn continued pouring again, but stopped short of closing the circle. She met Hector's eyes. "Don't hurt him."

  "I don't think you need to worry about

  us hurting him. Close the circle."

  "Promise me, you won't hurt him."

  "Lynn, he's coming. Close the circle!" yelled Marcos backing up into the foyer. The doors crashed against the wall.

  "Not until you promise me!"

  "I promise: we will try really hard not to hurt the possessed maniac coming down the hall. NOW CLOSE THE CIRCLE!" yelled Hector. Lynn closed the circle. "Now make two squares, one on top of the other and another circle inside the squares. Don't break any of the edges, stay inside the middle. Once you're done, read the prayer on the paper I gave you."

  "Then what?"

  "Pray something happens."

  Lynn put the finishing touches to the shapes as Lee stormed into the foyer. "Watch out!" Lynn yelled.

  Hector and Marcos tried to draw Lee's attention, but he knocked them to the floor with one hand.

  Lynn stood transfixed as Lee marched up to the circle and howled in rage. Her eyes filled with tears as he paced back and forth around the perimeter, snarling at her.

  Lynn wiped her eyes, and then read the prayer, "Spirit and Guardian, I call you to my circle. Come be with me. Watch from the east and keep me safe; witness my workings and lend me thy aid."

  She squeezed her eyes shut and whispered, "Lee, come back to me."

  Clapping her hands on the ground, she cried out, "As above, so below, blessed be!"

  Epilogue

  Hector and Marcos woke up to find Lynn and Lee clinging to each other as Lee chanted over and over, "I would never hurt you," and Lynn reassuring him with "I know, I know."

  Hector pressed Lee to explain his experience, but all he got was that Lee was trapped in his own body, as if something else had pushed him aside and taken control.

  As dawn broke over the horizon, Hector and Marcos led the couple back down the fire escape. Hector said over his shoulder, "There's this great get-away hotel up in Cloudcroft with some pretty wild activity going on. We're doing an overnight tour at the end of the month. You two should check it out."

  Hector wasn't too surprised when Lee raised one eyebrow and said, "You can't be serious."

  The following weekend:

  "All right people, watch your step. There's a lot of junk down here since they use the basement for storage."

  No one on the ghost tour noticed the black, smoky haze that floated in the back corner of the basement of the Franciscan Hotel...

  Table of Contents

  Key to a Haunting

  by

  Coral Russell

  The dance was beautiful. Arms waving gracefully. Bodies swaying, doing pirouettes before slumping to the floor. Long hair floating up for a second as bright liquid strands of flame. The women that didn't jump suffocated or burned to death. The doors locked.

  1

  Allen Harris lay on the bed, arms and legs splayed out, the sheets a crumpled mess around him, trying to will himself into oblivion. The refrain from a song playing in his head, Make the world go away ….

  His life was pretty much over, like the other estimated eight million recently unemployed workers in America. The bank he worked for failed. The ripple of fear turned into a panic on Wall Street that more banks would soon topple. In his mind, he shared some responsibility.

  The housing bubble popped, an over-inflated balloon that took Allen's career with it. Banks were making interest-only loans to homeowners and then reselling them to free up money in order to make more loans. Soon the original packaged deals were broken up and resold several times, using sophisticated computer programs to figure out the derivatives and sub prime mortgages. All went well until housing prices dropped and foreclosures piled up.

  Allen's bank, Trust and Security, moved $40 billion every three months to hide the fact that a hundred-year old company was living on borrowed money and borrowed time. With no bailout coming from the Feds, the doors closed and the world didn't stop turning.

  Make the world go away... . He covered his face with his pillow and tried to suffocate himself. A rapping at the door interrupted him. His mother's muffled voice called out, "Breakfast is on the table, honey!"

  He pushed down hard one more time then flung the pillow to the floor. Is that eggs and bacon? Be a shame to let Mom's cooking go to waste.

  Allen entered the kitchen to find his father's icy blue eyes peering at him over the top of the Wall Street Journal. Allen ran a hand through his rumpled, dirty-blond hair and tightened up his bathrobe before sitting down to eat. He had a forkful of eggs halfway to his mouth when his father said, "After breakfast, I would like a word with you in my office."

  "Sure, Dad."

  Allen listened to his father fold up the newspaper. He felt a light tap on his shoulder as his father passed by. "I'll see you in a bit."

  Once seated in his father's office, Allen picked invisible lint from his shirt, straightened his sleeves and adjusted his position in the cushioned chair.

  "Our family owns some downtown property."

  This was not the conversation Allen had expected. "Property?"

  "Yes. Your great-grandfather owned the building and we've been using it as a tax write-off. I think it was a factory at one point. It's been vacant for at least forty years. Well, not completely vacant; the first floor is rented out."

  "And...."

  "And, I want you to do... something. I don't care what, but it's part of your inheritance. It's run down, but functional. You'll need to study the downtown economy and decide how best to proceed."

  Allen swallowed hard. "Sure, Dad. Thanks. I'll get right on it."

  ***

  Allen stood on the corner of Stanton and Franklin. In front of him, ten stories high, stood the first fire-proof building from the 1900s. The street level housed a popular retail shoe store, clothing retailer and a chain restaurant. Impressive for a tax write-off.

  When his father handed over the keys, the old feeling of excitement at a new challenge drove Allen to see the property right away. The keys jingled, full of promise, in his pocket as approached the enclosed staircase that gave him full access to the building.

  2
r />   Months later, Allen surveyed El Paso's most luxurious corporate apartments with a panoramic view of the downtown area. The price tag covered rent, utilities and once-a-week maid service. Initial marketing proved successful and half the apartments were already leased. He was a success. Again.

  Allen moved from his parents to the apartment decorated in warm, earth tones. The kitchen gleamed with immaculate, granite counters, light-brown wood cabinets and stainless steel appliances.

  The

  plunk of a cork leaving a bottle of Veramonte wine from Chile, echoed throughout the apartment. He poured himself a glass in celebration of moving out of his parent's house for the second time in his life, and, he promised, the last. He glided into the living room, the wine halfway to his lips, when the glass slipped from his fingers.

  The torsos of at least a dozen women milled around back and forth over the hard wood floor and across the hemp rug.

  Allen jumped back, his feet slipping out from underneath him. Pain shot down his leg when he landed hard on his right hip. As the sensation subsided, he remembered why he was on the floor. He scuttled back into the kitchen, kicking the door shut as he passed.

  He used the counter to haul himself upright, poured another full glass of wine and downed it before limping to peak through the door again. A CD of the Paul Whiteman jazz orchestra played softly in the background. No bodies. He opened the door wider. Fantastic, he thought, I'm a successful nut.

  A clerk was at his desk working on an account when a shadow passed by the window in front of him. His mouth dropped open as a body fell trailing flames. Shouts, screams, and yells from outside punctuated the fall of each person. He stood, hypnotized, as woman after woman plunged to the street below. Two girls fell, holding hands.