The Complete Hidden Evil Trilogy: 3 Novels and 4 Shorts of Frightening Horror (PLUS Book I of the Portal Arcane Trilogy)

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The Complete Hidden Evil Trilogy: 3 Novels and 4 Shorts of Frightening Horror (PLUS Book I of the Portal Arcane Trilogy) Page 14

by J. Thorn


  “Dispose of her. Time is short.”

  Drew staggered and his breath hitched through choking sobs. He hacked at the woman’s body until it sat in a pool of blood and flesh. Gaki dropped the body parts into a garbage bag. After wrapping a towel around the woman’s head, Gaki placed it in a clear plastic bag. He handed Drew another gallon of bleach. He took it from Gaki and poured the yellow liquid into the tub, where it swirled with the woman’s blood. Drew took his hand, ignored the chemical burn on his skin, and swished the liquid around until most of the blood disappeared down the drain. He turned on the faucet and rinsed his arms in cold water while red patches blossomed on the back of his hands.

  “Put the bags in the car and then dispose of your bloody garments,” said Gaki.

  Drew heard a car. A sedan sat in the driveway with the front of the car closest to the curb. The trunk popped open and Drew began dragging the bags to it. The street kept its silence.

  ***

  The streetlights blew by in a cloud of spring mist. Drew reached over and turned the volume knob to the right. The sinister riff from Threefold Law scorched the sedan’s speaker system, one more accustomed to Raffi or Barney than the epic doom of Revenant.

  “Wait for the sun behind the eastern heights,” Drew sang with J. Thorn, the lead singer. He tapped his fingers on the top of the steering wheel and glanced down at the needle of the speedometer, edging closer to eighty.

  “Keep going.”

  Drew looked up into the mirror until his eyes met Gaki’s. He nodded and then laughed at the thought of the corny movie about an old, rich, white woman and her black chauffer.

  “Sho ’nough,” Drew replied with a fabricated southern drawl.

  The car gripped the winding highway. Drew wished he could have afforded the German engineering. Two children and a cubicle made that an impossibility.

  “Mind if I smoke?”

  Gaki stared straight ahead, unmoving in the backseat.

  “Didn’t think so.”

  Drew grabbed a cigar from the middle console. He had seen the box inside the glass-fronted humidor on the way out of the woman’s house. Considering he had helped dispose of the woman’s body, Drew doubted the man would mind if he smoked some of his cigars. The plastic wrap crinkled as the sweet, rich fragrance of flavor-soaked tobacco filled the car. Drew looked down for the cigarette lighter and pushed the knob in. After a few seconds, he grabbed the plastic knob and held it to the end of the cigar. A few wisps of gray smoke curled out as Drew inhaled and exhaled rapidly. He blew a mouthful of the tobacco out the window, dropped two inches to allow the smoke to escape.

  “Don’t want you to become a victim of second-hand smoke.”

  Again, Gaki did not reply except with a long stare. The nicotine buzz made Drew’s head light. He smiled and inhaled again, tasting the smoke and rolling his tongue through the warm air.

  “I’m good with you now.”

  Gaki growled.

  “No, really. I mean, I’ll hang if they ever catch me. No way I could possibly blame this on my Gaki friend, the fucking creature that tortured my grandfather in Japan during World War II and then reappeared to wreck my goddamn life. Nobody would believe that, would they, Gakster. I could say that I didn’t rape the women. I could plead that I was innocent of killing Johnson, but somehow, someway, they’d find DNA evidence tying me to it. Wouldn’t they, you motherfucker?”

  Drew slammed the accelerator to the floor. The engine came to life and pulled the sedan along the highway as the song “Earth” pumped through the speakers.

  “You cannot kill me,” Gaki said. His mouth did not move, but Drew heard him over the roar of the engine and the music pulsing from the sound system.

  “I don’t have to kill you, dickhead. I only have to kill me.”

  Drew spun the steering wheel to the left, slamming the driver side of the vehicle into the concrete barrier. Tongues of fire leapt from the collision and sparks fell into the car through the cracked windows. Drew felt the tires lifting from the pavement and the suspension shimmy as he began to lose control of the vehicle.

  “You have not paid your dues. You still owe life,” Gaki said.

  “Nope. Don’t think so. I believe that if I turn this fucking car into a pile of smoldering ash, that I’m free. You can’t mind-fuck me anymore, can’t hold me prisoner in my own body.”

  “It didn’t free you from your grandfather’s debt.”

  Drew opened his mouth and the cigar fell to the floor. He smelled the rancid odor of burning fabric. His eyebrows creased and he used both hands to take hold of the steering wheel and bring the vehicle back under control, the dashed, white lines disappearing beneath them.

  “You can’t.”

  Gaki smiled. The thin, dark line on its face curled up at the edges. Drew felt the creature mocking him. “I will.”

  Drew slammed his head into the steering wheel, opening a laceration that oozed blood. He screamed and tried punching through the roof of the car with his right hand. Gaki sat unmoved.

  “He’s innocent.”

  “For now,” replied Gaki. “If you do not fulfill your duty, I will have your son do it.”

  Drew screamed again. He cried and gritted his teeth until blood spewed from his forehead and his mouth. The speedometer on the car dropped from one hundred and thirty to ninety, and then to seventy. At sixty-five miles per hour, the trees and sound wall bordering the highway slowed to a crawl.

  “This stops with me. I will fulfill whatever fucking duty you think my line owns, but it stops with me. My soul for my son and his sons.”

  Gaki coughed and stared at Drew through the mirror. “You have no ground to negotiate. You will do as I command.”

  Drew pulled the vehicle to the shoulder. Pebbles and debris rattled the undercarriage of the car with deafening accuracy. He slammed the breaks, sending a cloud of dust into the air and blocking out the rest of the world.

  “If you’re taking my son anyway, then you have no grounds for negotiation.”

  Gaki nodded. He grumbled.

  “Well,” asked Drew. “What’s it gonna be, fucker?”

  “I shall hold you liable and release your line from the curse, but your duty is not yet fulfilled.”

  Drew shook. He reached down and found the remains of the cigar, which had burnt down and out. Drew placed it between his lips, gnawing at the tobacco and spitting leaf fragments out.

  “Of course it ain’t. Who’s next?”

  Gaki grinned again.

  “No. She’s my wife, the mother of my children. That would be as bad as if I destroyed them with my own hand.”

  “The mother of your children,” repeated Gaki.

  “She wouldn’t cheat,” Drew said.

  “She already has,” replied Gaki.

  Drew shook his head back and forth, tears cascading down his face.

  “Another one of your tricks, you evil fuck.”

  “You have witnessed the infidelity with your own eyes,” said Gaki. “You deny what you see.”

  Drew shook, sobs holding his chest tight.

  “Her and her lover must be punished. Then your duty will be fulfilled and your line released.”

  He took his foot off the brake and slammed the accelerator. Drew swerved back onto the highway with gravel spewing from the tires.

  “Where are we dumping the body?” he asked Gaki.

  The creature grinned, its thin tongue sliding out of its mouth like a diseased serpent.

  ***

  “I still can’t believe you parked on our street. What kind of dumbass move was that?”

  “He didn’t catch us.”

  Molly shrugged her shoulders as she put her arms through the bra. She reached around and fastened it in the back. “Thanks to me and my vibrator.”

  Brian smiled. He watched her dress from his bed with a sheet pulled up to his waist, a cigarette between his fingers and a lighter in the opposite hand.

  “Don’t light that. I don’t want to have to e
xplain why I smell like an ashtray.”

  “You know how much I like to smoke after getting pussy.”

  Molly rolled her eyes and let a hiss escape her lips. Brian reached for the remote on the end table and turned on the television. A tired game show featuring contestants with plastic faces came to life, the audio muted. He watched the manicured moustache of the host twinkle at a female contestant. Molly got dressed and fumbled to put an earring back in place.

  “No more today?” he asked with a sly smile.

  “We need to stop this, at least until the shit with Drew settles down. And I need to pick up the kids.”

  He shook his head.

  “I mean it. I’ll get in touch with you. No more calls or any other bullshit from your end. Got it?”

  Brian held his palms up, feigning innocence. “You can’t deny my rod,” he said, grinning.

  “Fuck off, Brian.”

  Molly slammed the door, shaking the Led Zeppelin poster on the wall. Brian put his hands behind his back. He shoved the cigarette between his lips and snapped the flint on his lighter.

  ***

  “Thank you, and welcome to Channel 7 News. I’m your anchor, Melanie Sampson, and this is our top story. Things seem to be getting more bizarre in the Crooked Tail River murder investigation. In addition to the two bodies discovered last week, a local woman has now gone missing. Let’s go back out to Nan Roles, who has been covering the story for us.”

  “Melanie, authorities are not releasing information other than the woman’s identity. Twenty-nine-year-old Rachel Merinshore was reported missing by her friend several hours after she failed to show up at a book-club meeting that evening.”

  “I thought the police did not consider a person missing until they were gone for twenty-four hours. Why are they releasing this now?”

  “They are worried that her disappearance is suspect and could be related to the other murders. Merinshore’s car is also missing, and she lives in the same housing plan as one Drew Green, a man the police considered a person of interest, but who now seems to be the primary suspect.”

  “Nan, do you have information on this Drew Green?”

  “Yes, Melanie. He is a thirty-nine-year-old husband and father of two. He is employed by Rede Design, the same office where the two victims were employed. One neighbor told us that that there was a foot chase this morning, but that the police lost the suspect. You can see the patrol cars over my shoulder that have staked out the house and have been searching the neighborhood for the man that is now a fugitive from the law.”

  “Is he wanted for questioning, or has an arrest warrant been issued?”

  “There is a warrant out for his arrest, Melanie. Police are cautioning people, saying that the man could be very dangerous. They’re asking anyone that has any information to call the tip hotline, and under no circumstances should they confront the suspect.”

  “Wow. What a tragic and frightening story. Thanks, Nan.”

  “You’re welcome, Melanie.”

  Brian aimed the remote at the television and thumbed the power button in one motion. He ran a hand down his face, cupping his chin. The smell of Molly lingered on his hands. His chest ached. Somehow, the old adage of putting your buddies before women never shook out. Brian had always found Molly intoxicating, like his favorite beer. He could never stop at one, could not keep it to flirting or friendship. She was not completely innocent, either. Brian surmised that he was able to do something to her that Drew could not. He reached a primal, primitive place that excited and satisfied her to the point of risking marriage and family to see him.

  Brian’s phone buzzed on the table next to his bed. He reached over and looked at the icon of the caller.

  “Hey, man. Where the hell are you?”

  “Riding. Taking some time to think.”

  “Your face is all over the fucking news. Molly is worried sick about you.”

  Brian winced at the slip of the tongue and felt a pang of guilt before Drew responded.

  “I’m sure she is.”

  Brian thought he heard a whispering sound. “Got a passenger?”

  “Of sorts.”

  “Who’s with ya, bud?”

  “Speaking of Molly,” said Drew, ignoring Brian’s last question. “Seen her lately?”

  Brian forced the lump in his throat down in order to keep his voice from wavering.

  “No, man. Why would I? Been at home watching movies and drinking beer since Rede shut down. Got some bitchin’ zombie movies. Wanna swing by and watch Zombieland? Bill Murray is in it. A fucking riot.”

  Silence hung on the line. Brian looked down at the phone but saw that the call counter continued. Drew was still there.

  “Ain’t that the one where he’s not a zombie, but they think he is and so they shoot him? He plays himself, right?”

  Brian’s face lit up and he rocked back into the headboard, smiling like old times. He looked to his left and saw the depression in the mattress left by Drew’s wife and the smile dropped from his face. “Yeah, that’s the one.”

  “Seen it.”

  “We could watch it again?”

  “Is she still there, Brian?”

  Brian took the question like a blow to the midsection. He stood and straightened the sheets as if disposing of evidence in the investigation of infidelity.

  “Who?”

  “Remember that time we went to Ocean City? I think it was after our junior year of high school. Do you remember that?” Drew asked.

  “Yeah, how could I forget? We banged that surfer chick, the one working the Italian ice stand on Pennsylvania and 13th Street.”

  “Janice,” replied Drew.

  “What’s that, bro?”

  “I said ‘Janice.’ Her name was Janice. You always have a hard time remembering the names of the women you fuck. Why is that, Brian?”

  He stood and split the blinds with two fingers. Brian scanned the street below for Drew. He looked at the sidewalk on both sides for any sign of his friend. He saw none. “Do you remember them?”

  “Yep. Easy.”

  “Why is that?”

  “Cause it’s only Molly.”

  Brian laughed and shook his head. “We fucked many hos, man, you and I.”

  “Did ya ever see me ‘fucking the hos’?”

  Brian stopped and turned away from the window, his eyes locked on the peephole of his front door. He thought he heard the muffled puff of air trapped when a car door shuts. “That’d be gay. I wouldn’t stick around to see yer schlong.”

  “Well, there ya have it, Brian. I lied about the other women. Never even touched Viv. Don’t get me wrong, she wanted me to plow her, but I couldn’t do it. It’s always been Molly for me. Molly, and only her.”

  Brian thought he heard the door on the stairwell hit the bumper on the wall. Footsteps echoed off the tiled floor.

  “Yeah, right. What about the chick on Fat Tuesday, the one you left with from the Irish Pub on Forbes Avenue?”

  “Walked her home. She stuck her tongue in my mouth and I turned and vaulted over the hedges and onto the sidewalk. I fucking ran from her sorority house like I was on fire.”

  Brian stood with the phone held to his right ear. He shuffled across the room toward the door, keeping his eyes locked on the doorknob. The button appeared to be depressed, but he could not be sure until he took another couple of steps.

  “You still with me, Brian?” asked Drew, his turn to make sure the conversation had not ended prematurely.

  “Yeah, man. I’m still here,” he replied. “Where did you say you were?”

  “I didn’t.”

  “So where you headed?”

  “Thought I’d swing by, hang with you for a bit.”

  Brian reached for the doorknob and felt the cool, brass button flush with the knob. The knob was locked, for what it was worth. “Okay. I mean, that’s cool. I thought you didn’t want to, but that’s fine.”

  “I said I didn’t want to watch zombie movies with you.
That didn’t mean two old, loyal friends can’t hang out, right?”

  Brian stepped back from the door and pulled a tissue from the box on the bookcase. He used it to wipe the sweat from his face.

  “Unless you’ve got someone over there right now. That would be embarrassing, me showing up while you’ve got one in the sack, sucking you off.”

  “Nope. Nobody’s here, Drew.”

  Brian heard a deep breath along with footsteps in the hallway.

  “Great.”

  The front of the apartment door shook. The knocking rattled the door and several of the framed pictures on the thin walls. Brian dropped the phone on the bed and stood in the middle of the room. He grabbed a pair of athletic shorts off of the chair and a dirty T-shirt from the floor. In one motion, Brian pulled the shirt over his head and straightened his hair.

  “Yeah?” Brian asked through the locked door.

  “Made it. Came to hang.”

  Brian winced. Drew’s voice sounded heavy, strained, as if he were covering his stress with slang. It was not working. “I’m coming.”

  “That’s what she said, eh?”

  Brian shrugged at the tired joke and reached for the doorknob. He opened it. Drew stood before him. Brian recognized his friend, but barely. Drew’s hair lay plastered to his forehead and the back of his neck. His eyes darted back and forth, set in their sockets like two hardened glints of obsidian. Several puffy lines ran along his cheek, with a dark line of oozing blood in the middle, as if someone had clawed at his face. Dried blood filled his nostrils. Drew’s T-shirt clung to his frame with a slick covering of sweat. The shirt had many small holes on the chest and stomach. Drew’s arms hung listlessly at his sides.

  “Hey, Bri,” Drew said. The words came out slurred and fuzzy, as if Drew were sporting a two-beer buzz.

  “‘Sup, man. C’mon in.”

  Brian stood aside and held the doorknob in one hand. He used the other to wave Drew into the apartment. Once Drew shuffled past, Brian stuck his head into the hallway. It was empty except for a bag of trash Ms. Zuckerman had set outside her door. The old bitch was constantly stinking up the hallway with her cabbage leftovers and the super never did anything about it. He tucked the complaint into the back of his mind for the next time rent was due and pulled the door shut.

 

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