by David Garaby
"You realize that's impossible, right?"
"Anything is possible. I know it sounds ludicrous, but I cannot deny what I hear, what I've heard. And tonight, when everyone is asleep, I'm going to go back there. I found the key they use." She raised a necklace she kept hidden under her shirt. "I'm going to break into that grave house. Come with me," she pleaded. "You're bound to have heard the voices, too. Come help me see what they have in there, let's find out if there is any truth in the voices."
A Grave House
THE TWO LION STATUES guarding the grave house looked terribly frightening in the dimness of midnight. Their stone hair and snouts seemed to growl. It was almost three in the morning, by this time the party had dissipated. Nina and Adam made their way towards the mausoleum.
"Where did you find that key?" asked Abram as he shun the light on the lock.
"Found it in Margo's room. Dumb bitch didn't know I took a picture of the key. I found a locksmith who said he could do it for me."
"Are you serious? I didn't even know you could do that."
"You can't, dumbass. I swiped it from her earlier today. She was all bent out of shape with the party. Better hope she doesn't realize I have it."
Adam could feel the hair on his forearm rise. He knew there was death in that little house, he knew it was fresh.
He pressed arms hard against the door. "I don’t think I can go in there. I don’t want to."
Nina turned her head slowly, intensely staring into his eyes. "We need to do this. We need to find out what the hell she is hiding."
He wanted to, god knows he wanted to, but the thought of what he might find was too terrifying to bear. She raised the key carefully. It wobbled in her hand until it entered with a clank. She inhaled and turned it. The thick iron doors creaked; it was a horrible sound, the sound of ancient evil, a laughter erupting from a dark corner. Adam smelled decay. There was something in that grave house.
"Nina, we can ask for help. I know we can."
"Who’s going to help us?" she said.
"Can’t you smell that?"
"Yes. But there's no turning back now." There was no moonlight that night, she used a cell to light the way. "I’ll go first," she said. Nina slid the key and the lock let itself split. they were in. Before entering the grave house, Adam made sure to turn back and make sure those menacing lions guarding hadn't decided to follow them in.
The stench intensified and made Adam feel queasy. He had felt this way only once before. The close, unflinching scent of rotten death had come to him once before, twenty summers ago, at his father’s home in Mesquite, Texas. He smelled it from the garden, this putrid siren, and as hard as it made his insides cringe, his eyes wanted to see the source. His feet made their way past the old barn, the scent of hay and cow droppings temporarily alleviating the odor. He walked closer to the well, that’s where the source came from. Adam raised his shirt over his nose and carefully peeked into the abandoned well. What he saw down that hole still haunts him, the angry scent engulfed him, and bloated body of the old, Venezuelan man staring up at him with hollow, thirsty eyes.
It was a small enclosure, no more than twenty feet all around. "Where’s her husband?" he asked. "Isn’t that the reason this thing is here?"
"I don't know," she said. "It's supposed to be in here."
"Why does she come here? There’s nothing in here. Jesus, where the hell is that smell coming from," he said, his phone lighting every corner of the mausoleum.
They were using their phones as flashlights, scanning the corners of the mausoleum. It was Nina who found a small door on the right corner of the room. A strange metal door, which radiated a cold breeze from its seams, the kind you feel just after you open a refrigerator.
"It’s got a chain on it. It’s got a lock!" said Nina.
"Grab that candlestick...I saw one over there on that corner." Nina scrambled for the corner and brought them back instantly.
"You don't think you're going to make too much noise?" she whispered.
Suddenly there was a slight rumble from below, a slow muffled growl. The dust over the trapdoor trembled.
"Jesus," said Adam, there was horror on his face. Nina's hands began shaking.
As they continued to speak the little camera which had been set off the moment they entered sent night vision imagery to a CCTV video surveillance camera stationed in Margo's room.
Bertha leaves the Castilian
"WE HAVE TO GET down there!" Margo looked down to the ground, her eyes trembling. Bertha stepped closer. "They're inside the grave house!"
"I told you not to bring that boy!" Bertha sat on Margo's bed.
"It's not him! It's that damned Nina! She must have taken my key."
"I told you to get a digital lock a long time ago. One of those biometric locks. This was bound to happen." Bertha said unapologetically.
Margo began pacing, "Bertha would you stop with your I-told-you-so's and help me think of something." Margo reached into her nightstand and pulled out a small gun. She fumbled with the bullets. "Don't just stand there. Help me." One of the bullets fell on the plush carpet. "Fuck," she mumbled.
"It's hard to accept reality sometimes," Bertha watched Margo unravel, sweat beads formed on her forehead. Bertha seemed distant, out of the picture, as if she were an outsider looking into a scene of defeat. She felt both pity and piety about the situation. When did it all fall apart?
Bertha felt her nose get runny: "I thought coming here could awaken something that lived within me. I thought coming to work with you, surrounding myself with a greatness I had never known would somehow give rise to roots, to plant hold something better than I was or ever will be. I thought some of your beauty would manifest itself on me. Some of your charm, your character, the thing that made you—you. But nothing has come of my time in this house. Nothing has come of my feeble attempts. Nothing will change. It's time for me to walk away."
"Bertha what the hell are you rambling about...we have to stop them! We have to—"
"I saw you with him," said Bertha firmly, coldly.
The comment stopped Margo. "Saw me?"
Bertha's eyes widened and trembled. She said it very slowly: "I saw you with him."
"Bertha what the hell are you talking about?"
"I saw you kissing the Agent. You didn't see me, but I saw you." She sighed, "You make it seem so easy. You make people think you're in pain but you don't know what pain is and I don't think you ever have. You think you know what it is to suffer, all you artist always play the part. But someone who is in pain does not have the capacity to create, to give life to words or paintings or photographs. You pride yourself on using the horrors of your life to make yourself wealthy. You don’t know what loneliness and misery is. The grasping at straws for acceptance. The inner monologue of self-defeat," Bertha sighed. "I think that's what first lured me to you. I’d never met anyone as charismatic as you. The way you said your name. The way you owned it. Like you were the first and last Margo Sullivan. I’d never met anyone who took such ownership of their own identity and so effortlessly. I remember that dog and pony show you gave during an interview I saw before I met you. You're very convincing, I'm sure you've had many people believe your lies, but the game stops here. I believed you when you started to think of me as more than just an employee. When you started to use the term 'we' more often. As if it was out of mutuality and not culpability. But there never was a 'we' and there never will be. But that's the biggest lie so far is there. The biggest lie is that you became famous because of your misery. What a crock! You and I both know that you became a star because of what you have outside in that grave house. I've helped you all these years I've covered your ass, I wanted was for you let me in your world. I had to find out the hard way what happens when people get too close to Margo Sullivan."
Margo turned away, the bullets were loaded, "Come on now, Bertha. Now's not the time to start growing a backbone. We've still have work to do!"
Bertha sneered, "Hudd told me
many years ago of the arrangement you had and how it was the greatest regret but his life. I didn't want to believe it, just as I want to believe that you didn't do anything to Daniel but the more I see, the more I realize how culpable you really are. It's one thing to round up wetbacks no one will bother to look for, but to sacrifice a baby! A little girl. I should have believed Hudd when he told me. I should have walked away from you. I knew there was a price to pay for receiving your love, but I didn't realize it would ruin my future. I have nothing more to do here, Magdalena."
Margo's eyes widened, "What did you call me?"
"Magdalena, that's your name, isn't it. Before Margo became Margo, she was just Magdalena."
Margo could feel her grip tightening on the gun. "Lies! This house was built on goddamn lies and don't think for one moment you weren't party to it. I'm not the only monster here, Bertha. There are two wolves in this house!"
"I know, I know what I've done."
"And where do you think you'll go? I'm sure your family is just waiting for you with open arms," she swung the firearm aggressively.
"No," Bertha backed away. "No, they're most certainly not waiting for me with open arms. You made sure those ties were cut long ago."
"It takes two to tango, Bertie. You could have stopped this at any moment. It's not my fault you're weak. It's not my fault this became an obsession for you."
"Obsession? You're always so quick to scandalize every situation, Margo. I loved you! There is nothing scandalous about that. I loved you and you knew how to work me. You knew how to keep me tangled and gave me just enough to keep me going. At what point did I end and you begin?
"At about the same time you started living, you ungrateful cat."
"Cat?"
"Yes, CAT! Purring for affection, then showing her claws when the line is drawn. Pussy. That's a better word for you, a sad little pussy, in love with her better, waiting to taste the milk she'll never have."
Bertha scoffed. "Oh my god. I've helped you do a lot of things I'm not proud of, and the only thing that kept me here was thinking you would someday change. You've no call to be so selfish and cold. You have everything. You have more than anyone I know and it's still not enough for you."
For a moment, there was a glimpse of sorrow in the corner of Margo's eyes. There was a redness, a rawness which had never manifested. "Bertie," it was faint, as if the words were coming, but a strange emotion kept them back—could it be regret.
"I loved you. That wasn't enough."
A tear, a single, solitary tear began to form on the left side of her chiseled face. Margo Sullivan began to feel her chest tighten, a coldness in her stomach grew and growled. Bertha's face was red, raw and crumbling with a coldness and a sadness she always knew was there, her heart was crumbling.
"Goddamnit, I'll always love you." Bertha turned her back on the painter for the last time.
Margo extended her hands, "Wait, don't leave me this way," she said.
Bertha froze but did not turn around. "I have something for you," were the last words she heard. Margo lifted the back of the gun and bashed it hard on the back of Bertha's head. She landed face first, her nose caved against the ground.
Margo stared at her for a moment then called to someone outside the door. "Bring her outside. We're taking her to the grave house."
There was a voice from the doorway. Gladly, it said. "You know I always hated that skinny dyke." The Agent had been hiding this whole time, watching quietly by the doorway and smiled menacingly as he saw blood flow from Bertha's nose and darken the white carpet.
The Deepest Low
THEY WERE STANDING over the trapdoor. Adam could feel his feet tighten in the ground where he was firmly planted. But his heart thumped wildly in his chest he wanted to scream, but was afraid of waking the thing he knew was down below. They had bashed the lock in and pried the door open. His eyes grew, red with terror when he saw the shadow of something moving.
Nina was behind him, her fingers spread up on his back. She climbed to him and reached over the edge until she thought she saw chains. Adam could feel her heartbeat against his back, they were both afraid and they knew they had entered into a place of unimaginable horror. The lump in Adam's chest wanted to explode; his screams were bursting to come out, a whisper escaped: "Something is moving."
"What the hell does she have down there?" There was a faint sound, and then the slithering of chains. They instinctively nudged back.
"Use your phone," whispered Nina, "Use your flashlight."
He stared at her pleadingly. Adam wanted to know, just as much as Nina did, it was morbid fascination. The kind of inquisitiveness which made him look under his bed when he was smaller, whenever he thought he heard a noise. He wanted to see, just to make sure whatever was down there wasn't as terrible and horrible as what his mind had imagined. Adam swallowed hard, he knew that whatever lurked below was not going to be as terrifying as what he imagined. This time he was wrong.
—Nina— she heard the voice and his heart nearly stopped. The voice was terrible, memories surfaced. It beckoned from the hole.
Her eyes welled with tears.
—Nina, my love— the voice was weak, beaten. The chains rattle.
"Oh my god," she whispered as her breathing became heavy. It was a sad terror.
"It's Daniel!" she cried, reaching for Adam. "It's him! I heard his voice."
Adam grabbed her hands firmly. "Calm down! It's not Daniel. What the hell is wrong with you!"
—Adam— The voice froze him.
—Adam—
Adam turned to Nina dumbfounded, "Did you hear that?"
Nina was shaking now, she was staring at the hole shaking her head.
—Aaadddaaammmm, Adam please— There was no mistaking it this time. It was his voice. It was Justin! He was calling from the hole.
Adam reached for his cell phone in a panic. "Justin," he muttered, "He fumbled with the screen and used it to light the darkness below. It shivered in his hands.
—Adam please help me— It was the most gut wrenching sound he ever heard. Full of sadness, a defeated symphony of pleading. Why was he down there? Why was his love down below?"
—Get me out of here. Pleasssse—
There was movement down below now, a face slowly emerged into the light, it was dirty, it was weak and frightened, it was his Justin.
"Oh my god!" said Adam, he panted hard and instinctively reached down to pull him up.
As he extended his arm a terrifying, dark hand reached up at him, its thick claws cut into Adam’s flesh. Adam drew back and stared at the hands reaching up from the hole, they were mad now, they were reptilian, like the hands of a giant alligator. Adam was frozen, he held his hand, it was bleeding.
Nina screamed, kicking the hand fiercely. She backed away when the hands disappeared.
The thing in the hole screeched.It growled and writhed, banging chains against the concrete floor.
There was suddenly a shadow in the doorway now. Margo held a gun and pointed it at both of them.
Like Lovers and Children
MARGO TURNED ON THE lights inside the grave house.
"Get away from that door," said Margo firmly, stepping inside. She cocked her gun. "I'll kill both of you before I let you hurt her."
"Her!? What are you talking about, what the fuck is that thing? Why did it look like that—like Justin? What did you do to him!?"
She stepped over the hole, looking down, "She's not your stupid lover." Margo smiled, "She's just a little girl I found years ago."
"Did you see its hands! It's a fucking monster! It's got claws! Jesus what the fuck was that?" screamed Nina.
There was a little girl in the hole now, her face illuminated by the beams of moonlight that shun from the windows of the grave house. It formed a heavenly sun-glow around the child, her white dress flowed inches above the concrete, it seemed as if the only thing that held her from flying up were the chains around her pale hands and ankles. She was a cherub, a gentle
sweet face with grey doe eyes who starred up pleadingly at Margo. She could hear the child's calls, it was the sweetest voice in the universe, kind and gentle. "Hungry," the girl cooed. All Adam and Nina heard were horrible growls and hisses.
"I know, baby girl" said Margo to the child in the hole. "Soon," she said before closing the trap door.
Margo turned to Adam and Nina, "Cat's out of the bag," she scratched her head lightly with the gun. "It's over," she had a manic glare, her face was twisted.
"What is that thing!" demanded Nina.
Margo grimaced, "I found her. I found her many years ago and she has been very good to me. She has given me more than any other person in this god damned world."
"That's not a girl, Margo!," screamed Adam. " It's a—It's a fucking monster!" He grabbed at his bloody wound, his hands were warm and wet.
"She changes. She changes with everyone. She becomes the thing we love the most. That's her camouflage. It lured you in, it becomes the thing we long for. I've always wanted a little girl. A precious little angel. That's how she appears to me. That's how I see her."
Adam and Nina stared at each other in dismay.
"You even hear her voice sometimes. She comes to the house when she is hungry. She sounds like people. Like lovers and children," she turned to Nina. "Even husbands."
Nina turned away, her eyes shifted in horror trying to understand.
Margo smiled. "I guess that's some consolation. At least I know you did love my Daniel. You're not just a money grubbing climber I thought you were."
"It looked like Justin!"
"You must have loved him dearly. She chose that form...she did it to lure you. She called you both here."
"Why? What the hell does it want?"
"Come, come Adam, I know you're a just a Liberal Arts Major, but I refuse to believe you're this stupid," she said. "She's hungry...And it's time to eat."
— 2 —
A FIGURE APPEARED in the doorway. It was the tall man Adam has seen kissing Margo earlier at the party, it was The Agent. He carried something in his arms, as Bertha's limp body dangled in his arms.
