by Jeff Strand
Paige thought for a moment. "Floppy?"
"Floppy works."
"No, Stretchy."
"Stretchy! Boney, Chokey, and Stretchy. The Three Stooges of ghosts. They don't scare me. Do they scare you?"
"I don't know."
"They're jokes. We should be laughing at them. That's what we'll do the next time we see them. Point and laugh."
"Why aren't they trying to get inside?"
"Maybe they got bored and left."
"Maybe they went after Dad."
Adeline let out a sudden sob that she hadn't realized was building up. Paige was right. Boyd was probably dead, and all the goofy nicknames in the world weren't going to save them.
Nobody was going to help them.
"I'll guard the door," said Adeline. "Get a sock or something out of Naomi's drawer. Your eyelid is bleeding again."
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
What the hell was that?
It sounded like a train had crashed into the house.
That, combined with the thunderous crash from before, made it clear that some serious shit was happening upstairs. Maddox hoped that Fletcher and Heck weren't screwing this up.
"Hope you've got renter's insurance," he told Boyd, jabbing his index finger bone into his back. He was halfway through making the mouth of a smiley face out of bloody holes.
Boyd didn't have a witty response. That was okay. Maddox hadn't said anything witty while his bones were being shattered with a fireplace poker, so he couldn't expect a father of two girls to uphold a higher standard.
Maddox should probably go upstairs to see what was happening. He didn't like the idea of leaving Boyd unattended, but how far could the guy get?
"I feel like I should check things out up there," said Maddox. "You okay with that? I'd have to slash a couple of tendons to make sure you don't run away."
"I'm not going anywhere."
Maddox grinned. "Yeah, it's true, you're not."
Honestly, Maddox had nothing against the poor guy. He didn't deserve his fate. Neither did his wife and kids. They seemed like a perfectly decent family. Though they had to die, and die horribly, it was most definitely nothing personal. If Maddox could slaughter a family of assholes, he'd happily take that option, but he had no control over who moved into this house.
He actually didn't know for sure that they had to die horribly. They had to die, yeah, but the "horribly" part was more a feeling than a rule. Nobody had spelled out any rules. This was all instinctual.
Anyway, Boyd wouldn't suffer as much as Maddox had. The pain of that bitch beating him to death had been beyond anything he could have imagined.
And then, shortly after crossing over, he longed for a return to the mild, almost quaint suffering of being beaten to death by a fireplace poker.
Gina had said they weren't going to Hell, but that was a mere technicality. This place could not have been more hellish if Satan were jabbing their asses with a pitchfork while Hitler led the morning exercises. Constant agony. Constant terror. The kind of place where you wanted to just tuck yourself into a corner and go completely insane so that you didn't have to cope with your existence...but insanity would've been too easy. It would've been a cherished gift. A straitjacket and an eternity of mad laughter? Paradise.
It was confusing how things worked. Sometimes it felt like they were in their bodies, sometimes it felt like they were watching themselves. The flow of time was irrelevant; Maddox had no idea if they'd been gone for days, weeks, years, decades, or what, though it wasn't like the family had android servants or a teleportation machine, so maybe it hadn't been that long. The place that wasn't officially Hell was like a nightmare where everything happened in flashes, and things would fade from your memory shortly after they happened, but you'd keep waking up into something worse. It was like being in a horror flick where the hero would wake up and say "Oh, thank goodness, it was only a dream!" and then the monster would drop onto his bed because he was still in the dream, ha ha, fooled the audience, repeated an infinite number of times.
It all kind of sounded like how you'd perceive the world when you were insane, but Maddox was always completely aware of what was happening to him in the moment. He always knew that his hellish existence was the result what Gina had done to him. He would not eventually wake up in his own bed and breathe a sigh of relief.
But then—and he had no idea how long it took for this to happen—he could see the real world again. Just the house where he'd died. He wasn't sure how he could see it; it wasn't as if they were floating outside the house, or gazing through a magical mirror, or seeing images projected onto a flayed body, but they could see it. All three of them.
And they knew they could get back.
They could steal energy. Drain life, though that sounded corny.
None of them really understood how it worked. Maybe the power of love or some shit radiated some kind of force that they could feed upon. The draining did weird stuff. Made the family sick. Rotted their food. Made the older girl succumb to some darkness she'd kept in the back of her developing brain. Made her think a contact lens was crushing her eye, even though it had fallen out and stuck to the side of the toilet. Made the younger girl want to swim with the fishes.
Finally, when Maddox, Heck, and Fletcher had drained enough, the family snapped back to normal. Things would've been looking up for them, but, alas, suddenly they had three otherworldly home invaders.
And now was the fun part.
Oh, things remained awful. The three of them were still in constant agony (at least he was, and there was no reason to believe it was different for his partners) but that had been the status quo for a long time, and it was something you eventually got used to, more or less. And it was hard to control this new ghost-version of himself, but he was getting the hang of it quickly. When they first materialized, he'd been worried that it might be like some kind of stroke-recovery-victim thing where he'd spend months or years learning to walk again, so this wasn't bad at all.
It was almost over. One dead husband, one dead wife, two dead little girls, and then he'd be back to normal.
At least that's what he believed would happen. The first phase of the plan had worked as expected, so presumably his instincts were correct on the second part as well. Heck and Fletcher hadn't come downstairs to report that the family had escaped, so Maddox assumed that the barrier was working properly. Nobody could escape the house. Nobody could get in the house. And there was no ticking clock. They had as long as they needed to kill the Gardner family. Boyd and his loved ones could hide away, sleep in shifts, and survive on whatever food in the house wasn't rotten, but they'd eventually die.
Maddox didn't share this with Boyd. He didn't want the poor guy to lose all hope. It wouldn't be as enjoyable to torture him to death if he succumbed to nihilistic despair.
"Hey."
Maddox looked up. Heck stood at the top of the staircase.
"What's wrong?"
"Nothing's wrong. It's actually pretty fuckin' great up here. You should come up and see it."
"See what?"
"It's better if you see for yourself."
"Give me a hint."
"Dead cop."
Maddox grinned. "Oh, yeah, I do wanna see that."
"It's crazy what happened. You won't even believe it."
"You kill any of his family?"
"Nah. Not yet."
Maddox patted Boyd on the shoulder. "You hear that? You still have something to live for. I bet that makes you feel all warm and fuzzy inside. Go ahead and say something defiant if you want. I won't get mad."
"Fuck you."
"So was that your defiant statement? Or was that in reference to me telling you to go ahead and say something defiant?"
"C'mon, Maddox," said Heck. "We don't have time for this shit."
"Not true. We have all the time in the world."
"Well, I personally would like to end the agony as soon as possible."
"You're right, you're righ
t, fair enough." Maddox held up his index finger. He wished it wouldn't keep healing itself. He braced himself for the pain, and then the bone tore through his transparent skin. It hurt every bit as much as he assumed it would if his body was still flesh and blood.
"What are you doing?" asked Heck.
"Going to slice his Achilles tendons. Keep him from going anywhere."
"What if he bleeds to death while you're gone?"
"Is that against the rules?"
"Doesn't seem like a horrible enough way to go."
"Hmm."
"Just break his leg."
"How?"
"I don't know," said Heck. "Push him down the stairs. You know what, just forget it. You can see it later."
"No, no, I don't want to miss out. He's not going to spoil anything if he crawls a couple of feet. Let's go."
Maddox walked upstairs, leaving poor little bleeding Boyd behind. Truthfully, the guy was in bad enough shape that he might bleed to death without his heels being slashed open, but Maddox wouldn't be gone long.
As soon as they stepped into the kitchen, he saw all of the rubble on the living room floor. The whole ceiling had come down! Holy shit!
"How'd that happen?"
"Fletcher rotted it out from under them."
"We can do that?"
"Apparently."
"Good to know. Where's the cop?"
Maddox followed Heck into the living room. He'd seen many surreal, grisly sights on the other side, but he couldn't remember any of them. He was very confident that he'd never seen a police car imbedded halfway through a living room wall.
He went over and peered through the windshield. "Where's the dead cop?"
"He should be right..." Heck peered into the car as well. "Shit, I guess he completely dissolved. You can see a piece of his uniform on the seat. You should've seen him melt. It was gruesome as hell."
"Oh well." Maddox looked over at Fletcher. "Why are you just standing there?"
"Babysitting."
"What?"
Fletcher casually pointed up. The younger girl, Naomi, was still up in what used to be the attic. She didn't seem to be in any danger of falling, but she was crying and she sure looked scared.
Maddox waved to her.
"You can't reach her?" he asked.
"Not quite."
"Why don't you rot the wood and make her fall?" he asked.
Fletcher tried to answer, but couldn't get a coherent sentence out through his choking.
"We can't reach it," said Heck. "We rotted the wall but it's not going up high enough."
"Throw some shit at her."
"When we're able to pick stuff up, we'll get right on that."
"Where's the mom and other kid?"
Heck pointed to a closed door. "Hiding in there."
"Get in there and kill them."
"We are. Just thought you'd want to see the melted cop, that's all."
"And now I have. I’m heading back downstairs."
Maddox returned to the kitchen. He paused to glance at the refrigerator. That's what he missed more than anything else: food. Well, food and the lack of endless excruciating pain. The first thing he was going to do when he was back in a regular body was get the biggest, juiciest, Ribeye steak he could find, slathered in A-1 sauce, with a loaded baked potato and a cold beer.
He walked down the steps. Boyd had crawled away from the staircase but he hadn't gotten very far. Maddox couldn't be mad at him. Actually, he would've been kind of disgusted with Boyd if the guy was exactly where he'd left him.
"Accomplish anything while I was gone?" Maddox asked.
Boyd didn't respond.
"Let's pick up where we left off."
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
"Mom...?"
Adeline looked up. Paige handed her one of Naomi's shirts. Adeline thanked her and used it to wipe her eyes. She wished she could stop crying, but under the circumstances, she thought she was setting a good example for her daughter simply by not dropping to the floor and shrieking at the top of her lungs. Or going catatonic.
She knew Naomi was safe for now, because she hadn't alerted them with a scream. She had no idea if Boyd was alive or dead. She wanted to believe that deep in her heart she knew her husband was still alive, but that was fairy tale bullshit. It didn't matter how she felt in her heart; if the ghosts hadn't murdered him yet, he was still alive. If they had, he was lying dead in the cold basement. Her feelings had nothing to do with it.
Why weren't the ghosts trying to get into Naomi's bedroom?
The doorknob began to jiggle.
"Boyd?" she asked, even though Adeline knew it wasn't him. Boyd would have announced himself before trying to open the door.
"Yes, it's me." For a moment Adeline thought the ghost was trying to fool her with a terrible impression of Boyd's voice. Then she realized that the ghost was just mocking her.
Adeline gestured for Paige to get into position. Their plan wasn't complex. It was, in fact, absurdly simple: let the ghost (or hopefully more than one) come into Naomi's room after them, get past it, and barricade it in there. Same plan that didn't work in the basement. This would be more effective, long-term, if the ghost didn't damage the door, so they'd left it unlocked.
Paige climbed underneath Naomi's bed.
The doorknob continued to jiggle. Apparently the ghost couldn't get a solid enough grip to turn it.
Then the door swung open. Adeline stepped backwards, staying behind it.
The dismembered ghost—Stretchy—walked into the room.
Paige, as planned, jostled the blanket a bit, giving away her location.
The ghost moved toward the bed.
As it crossed the room, Adeline came out from behind the door. "I'm right here, you blind piece of shit!"
The ghost turned to look at her. Paige rolled out from under the bed, jumped to her feet, and raced for the door. The red goo stretched out as the ghost tried to grab her, but she dodged its hand and made it out of Naomi's room, followed immediately by Adeline, who pulled the door shut.
They both ran for the couch and pushed it across the living room. Chokey stepped in front of the couch to block it, but it passed right through him, slamming into the bedroom door.
"Jump!" Adeline shouted. "Jump now!"
If Naomi hesitated, the choking ghost might get her. She didn't hesitate. She leapt from her perch. The couch wasn't directly underneath it, but it was close enough that she wouldn't have to make a more dramatic leap than she did in any given gymnastics class.
As she fell through the air, there was a split-second where Adeline thought she wasn't going to make it. She'd hit the floor and break her legs. Adeline had this sudden weird, inexplicable image of Naomi striking the wood and her legs shattering like glass, all the way to her torso, sharp red pieces flying everywhere.
Instead, she landed on the couch, bounced off the cushion, and then hit the floor. It looked like it hurt, but she got right up and took Adeline's hand as the three of them ran out of the living room.
If Chokey weren't there, they could've moved more furniture and done a much better job of trapping his friend in Naomi's bedroom. They'd have to hope that the couch kept him stuck in there for a while.
They stopped outside of Boyd and Adeline's bedroom. She desperately wanted to rush down into the basement to help Boyd (if he could still be helped) (stop thinking that way) but if she could manage to trap Chokey in a different room and then move every piece of furniture in the house in front of those two doors, they'd only have Boney to contend with.
The nicknames weren't helping.
The choking ghost looked back and forth between them and Naomi's bedroom door, as if unsure whether it should try to move the couch or go after its prey. Adeline had done the "Come and get me!" trick too many times; it was unlikely to fool the ghost again. Their best bet was to go into the bedroom as if hoping not to be pursued.
Adeline, Paige, and Naomi went into the bedroom but didn't close the door yet. T
his was going to be more difficult with three of them, but they might be able to rework the same plan. Lure him in, get past him, then block the door. Nice and simple.
"You're both going to hide under the bed," Adeline whispered. "When he gets the door open, Paige, you move the blanket like you did before so he knows you're under there. When you hear me talk to him, both of you get out from under the bed and run out the door as fast as you can."
Paige and Naomi nodded.
Adeline peeked out into the hallway.
Crap. The choking ghost was trying to push the couch away.
Back to the other tactic. "Hey!" Adeline shouted. "Over here!"
The ghost ignored her.
"New plan," Adeline told the girls. "I'm going to get your father. Keep checking on the ghost. If he comes after you, lock the door and drag everything you can in front of it."
"Bring him back safe," said Paige.
"I will." She gave them a brief hug then left the room. She walked quickly but quietly, hoping that the choking ghost would be focused on the couch and not see her departure.
She promised herself that she'd keep it together if Boyd was dead. She'd immediately return to her daughters to protect them. There'd be plenty of time for sorrow, second-guessing, and self-loathing later.
* * *
"Almost done with the smiley face," said the bruised ghost, jabbing his finger-bone into Boyd's back once again. "Well, the mouth anyway. Just looks like a U. But I promise, it's gonna be a fine piece of art."
Boyd wasn't sure exactly how many holes the ghost had poked into his back—at least a dozen—but he wished he could get used to the pain, or at least go numb. Each time the ghost punctured his skin, it hurt as much as the previous time.
"Does it bother you to be so helpless?"
"Yes," said Boyd. Why lie?
"Do you wish I'd put you out of your misery?"
"No."
"You sure?"
"Are you asking for real or are you just taunting me?"
Maddox chuckled. "Mostly taunting you. I'm not really sure I need to keep dragging this out, though. I hate to leave the smiley face unfinished, but I feel like I've caused you enough torment to pretty much complete your role in the ritual. I say 'pretty much' because you still have to die, of course."
