Doctor Charles Grazier

by Amy Cross

  ***

  Blood sprays from her gashed neck. I have to stand back to avoid getting splattered. Her body is shaking violently.

  ***

  “Catherine?” I whisper, standing in the basement and staring at the door that leads into the storage area. “Can you hear me?”

  I wait in silence, but I hear no reply. She is behind that door, where she has remained ever since I locked her inside a few days ago. It has been more than twenty-four hours since I forced the vile, pinkish liquid through the gap at the bottom of the door, and I know I heard her licking it all up. That means that the concoction entered her body, which in turn means that it must surely by now have finished coursing through her veins. Any moment now, that infusion of youth and new life will surely begin to take effect.

  Any moment.

  Perhaps even this moment.

  “Catherine?” I say again, raising my voice a little. “Do you hear me? It is I, your husband, your darling Charles. I have worked so long and so hard to rectify the nightmare that broke out in our lives. I know you can hear me, so listen to my voice and allow me to guide you back to the light.”

  Again I wait.

  Again I hear nothing.

  My first instinct is to turn around and go back upstairs, to wait perhaps until tomorrow morning, yet instead I walk toward the door and reach out to touch its wooden surface. Since the banging sound that followed my return to the house, I have neither seen nor heard any further indication that Catherine is still moving around, yet I know that she must be there. Perhaps this period of silence is a good sign, perhaps it means that her true mind is reasserting control over that thing that took control of her body.

  “Catherine,” I whisper, “I know you can hear me. Say something. Say anything.”

  I keep my hand pressed against the cold wood, and I try to imagine her in the same position on the other side. Waking, finally, back into her body.

  “I shall return shortly,” I tell her finally, moving my hand away. “I shall not give up on you, my dear. While there is still breath and blood in my body, I shall work tirelessly to get you back.”

  I hesitate for a moment longer, just to give her a chance to speak, and then I turn and start walking back toward the stairs.

  “Release me,” a gasping voice says suddenly, causing me to stop in my tracks.

  My heart is beating so fast, I swear I can feel it pounding in my chest, and a cold sweat has in an instant broken across my face. I know that I heard her, but I cannot bring myself to believe that she is finally speaking.

  “Release me from here,” the voice says again, coming from behind the door. “It's so dark and cold in here. Open this thing and let me out.”

  I turn slowly, but all I see is the still-closed door.

  “Release me now,” the voice continues, and I hear a faint scratching sound coming from the door's other side. “I am hungry again, and so thirsty.”

  My heart soars.

  “Catherine?” I whisper. “Catherine, is that you?”

  “Who is Catherine?” the voice replies.

  “What -”

  Stopping myself, I realize that all hope is once again lost.

  “Who is Catherine?” she asks again.

  “Catherine is my wife,” I stammer, trying to stay calm even though I can feel my body beginning to tremble all over with fear. “Catherine, is that you? Your voice... I cannot tell.”

  I wait, but there is no reply.

  “Catherine,” I continue, stepping closer to the door. “For the love of -”

  “Yes,” the voice says suddenly, accompanied by more scratching sounds. “Catherine. That is my name. I am Catherine and I would like very much to be released from this place. Won't you open the door?”

  “Catherine,” I whisper, reaching for the bolt but then hesitating for a moment, “is it really you?”

  “Of course it's really me,” she replies softly. “I am Catherine, and I am so cold in here. Please, you cannot leave me to rot in this darkness for a moment longer. I have waited and waited, and this is my last chance. I am begging you, release me immediately.”

  “How do I know that you are real?” I ask, my voice trembling with fear.

  “How do I know that you are real?” she replies.

  I hesitate, before reaching down and sliding the bolt across. My hands are shaking violently, but somehow I manage to take the key from my pocket, although it takes several tries before I am able to get the cursed thing into the lock.

  And then I pause, as I realize that there is still one more thing that I must ask.

  “What is my name?”

  “You can tell me your name later,” she replies.

  “But you should know it.”

  “My name is Catherine.”

  “And what is my name?”

  “I'm sure it is a lovely name,” she says softly, her voice almost purring. She sounds, in truth, nothing whatsoever like my dear Catherine. “I'll reward you for letting me out of here,” she continues. “I'll give you anything you want, but first you must release me. Do you understand? I refuse to stay in here for a moment longer. Now that I have learned how to control this body, you will help me to find my place in the world. So much must have changed, and I am hungry to see it all. First, though, you must help me. I am so weak.”

  “I shall let you out,” I reply, “just as soon as you tell me my name.”

  I wait, with tears streaming down my face, but she says nothing.

  “Catherine,” I continue, “if -”

  “LET ME OUT!” she screams, suddenly slamming against the door from the other side.

  Falling back, I slam down hard against the cold stone floor. The door rattles violently in its frame, but the key remains unturned in the lock. Still she tries to break through, and I am not entirely certain that the hinges will hold, although I am at least fairly certain that it would take her quite some time to smash her way out of the room. Getting back to my feet, I force myself to step closer and slide the bolt back into its proper place.

  Locked.

  “LET ME OUT THIS INSTANT!” she gurgles, her voice filled with fury. Hatred, even. “I WILL DESTROY YOU IF YOU DON'T!”

  Too shocked to know how to react, I step back as she continues to smash the door, but then a moment later she stops and the basement falls silence once more.

  “Please let me out,” she whimpers. “I'm so cold in here. I thought you loved me? Why are you leaving me to suffer like this?”

  “You are not Catherine,” I reply, backing away until I reach the bottom of the steps. “My Catherine would never speak in such a manner.”

  “I think I shall freeze to death,” she continues, and now it sounds as if she is on the verge of truly sobbing. “Why have you left me in here like this, naked and cold? Do you hate me?”

  “You are not Catherine,” I whisper again. “You are -”

  “LET ME OUT!” she screams, suddenly slamming against the door once again. “LET ME OUT, OR I'LL FIND SOME OTHER WAY AND THEN I'LL END YOUR MISERABLE EXISTENCE!”

  That is not Catherine. Everything I have done, everything I have tried, has been an utter failure. Panicking, I turn to go up the stairs.

  “Charles!” she calls out suddenly. “Charles, it's me!”

  I freeze.

  Did she just -

  “Charles, help me,” she sobs, and now – finally – she sounds like Catherine. “Charles, I don't know what's happening, but I'm scared. I'm cold and I'm weak and I'm starving. Charles, why am I in here? Why have you locked me in the dark?”

  I turn and look back toward the door.

  “Charles, help me,” she continues. “For the love of God, help me. And if you can't help me, then kill me. Just don't leave me here like this, I'm begging you to let me out!”

  “Catherine?” I whisper, momentarily too shocked to move. Finally, however, I realize that something must have changed. I do not understand, but somehow she has found her way back to me after all this time.


  Filled with a sudden burst of hope, I stumble across the room and quickly get to work unlocking the door.

  “I am going to release you,” I stammer. “Wait one moment, my dear, and you shall soon be free.”

  “Hurry!” she gasps. “I'm so cold, Charles. I think I might freeze to death!”

  “Never!”

  I pull the bolt aside and turn the key in the lock, and then I swing the door open. I expect Catherine to fall against me, but to my surprise I see that she is instead slumped against the far wall, as if she has no strength left at all. My first reaction, upon seeing the rotten flesh that still hung to her bones, is one of absolute revulsion, and I am very nearly minded to slam the door back shut. Some deeper aspect stirs in my soul, however, and finally I see her fearful, plaintive face, and I feel one absolute and very clear certainty blossom in my heart.

  “Catherine!” I gasp stepping forward before breaking into a short run and hurrying over, quickly kneeling next to her. “My darling, is it you? Are you really returned to me?”

  “Charles,” she whispers, her voice sounding so very frail and old. “Charles, Charles...”

  “Is it really, really you?” I ask, but I do not wait for an answer.

  Instead, I reach out and place a hand on the side of her face. Even though her flesh is tattered and torn, and rotten in some places, I feel an outpouring of absolute love as I realize that after long last, after everything that has happened, I have her back.

  “Oh Catherine,” I sob, leaning closer and kissing her forehead. “It was worth it. It was all worth it.”

  “Charles,” she replies, sounding so very tired, “oh Charles... Charles Grazier... Are all men this easy to trick, or are you an exception?”

  I freeze, convinced that I must have misheard, but then I pull back slightly and look into her eyes. To my horror, I see a moment later that a smile is slowly spreading across her thin, rotten lips.

  “Catherine -”

  Before I can finish, she lunges at me, cackling maniacally as she presses me down against the cold concrete. Landing on top of me, she sneers into my face, spraying my features with a fine layer of spittle as her bony fingers start tearing at my shirt. I try to push her away, but she is too strong and all I can do is cry out in agony as I feel her fingernails slicing down through my chest, cutting me open and causing blood to erupt from the wounds.

  And still I scream.

  Chapter Twelve

  Maddie

  Today

  The handle clicks slightly, causing me to hesitate for a moment, but then I slowly start pulling the door open so that I can see up the stairs toward the hallway.

  So far, I can't hear Alex and Nick at all, but I'm certain they must still be in the house somewhere. After all, this place is supposed to be their ticket off the streets, so I doubt they'd risk leaving it alone for even a second. I take care to open the door very slowly, to minimize the risk of the hinges creaking, and then I glance over my shoulder and take a look back down into the basement.

  There's still not a great deal of light, but I definitely don't see any sign that anybody else is down here with me. I watch the shadows for a moment, just in case I spot a hint of movement, but then I remind myself that my priority has to be getting out of here. Whatever else happens, whatever I might find out about this house, I have to get help.

  Turning, I look up the stairs and wait a moment longer, and then I carefully step through and start making my way up into the main part of the house. After a few seconds, I realize that I've inadvertently been holding my breath. And with each step, I feel the knot of fear twisting tighter and tighter in my chest.

  ***

  The house is completely silent.

  Standing in the hallway, still holding the knife that I used to cut through the ropes, I listen for even the slightest hint that Alex and Nick are nearby. I expected to at least hear their voices in the distance, but so far it's almost as if they've left. I know that can't be the case, of course, and I'm worried that they could suddenly come at me from any of the rooms. Or, worse, that they somehow know I've escaped, and that they're waiting to ambush me at any moment.

  There's a part of me that wants to go up the main staircase and search for Matt, but I quickly tell myself that I need to be smarter. The best option is to get out of here and go to Jerry's house, and call the police from there. They'll be here in five or ten minutes, and then they can grab Alex and Nick. I feel as if I'd be betraying Matt if I left, but at the same time I know that calling for help is our only chance. So as much as I feel an urge to start playing the role of amateur superhero, I start carefully edging toward the open back door so that -

  Suddenly I freeze as I hear them.

  Alex and Nick are in the back garden. I peer out, and then I immediately pull back as I see that they're sitting on the grass just a few meters from the door, smoking cigarettes. There's absolutely no way I can get past them, and I also know that I won't be able to get the front door open, so I start looking around as I try to figure out where I can go next. I refuse to believe that after getting out of the ropes and making my way up from the basement, I'm trapped all over again.

  “Relax,” Nick is saying casually, “I'll take care of that too. I've got a total plan in place, and you don't have to worry about any of it. Just do what I tell you, when I tell you, and it'll be fine.”

  “What about the cop?” Alex asks. “We can't just leave him in the bedroom.”

  “Who said anything about leaving him in the bedroom? We're gonna get him out of here before we call anyone.”

  “What will you do to him?”

  “That's for me to worry about.”

  “But -”

  “Well, and him. He should be worried too.”

  “What exactly are you going to do?”

  “Chill, Alex,” he continues, interrupting her. “I'll deal with the cop and Maddie.”

  “Do you have to hurt Maddie?” she asks, sounding a little hesitant. “I mean, she hasn't really done anything wrong. She had good intentions, anyway. Can't we just, like, let her go?”

  “Don't ask me questions like that,” he replies.

  “Maybe we can talk her round.”

  “I'm taking this off your hands so that you don't have to worry about it,” he continues. “That was the deal, remember? I'll do the tough stuff, and in return you have to promise not to ask about all the pesky details. I guarantee I'll sort it, but don't keep nagging. Your job is to get all those old books together and figure out how we're gonna present this to people. I also need you to get a camera from somewhere.” He lets out a loud sigh. “We're gonna have one more of these blunts each,” he adds finally, “and then we're getting back to work.”

  Backing away from the door, I realize that I'm trapped in the house. At the same time, it sounds like they're going to be out there for at least ten minutes, so I start trying to figure out if there's any other way to leave. I could try forcing open one of the boarded-up windows, but I'm pretty sure that'd make too much noise. After a moment, however, I remember the window in one of the bedrooms, where a section of one board has already started to come away. If I could wriggle out through that and then somehow drop down at the front of the house, I might be able to get to the street and find help.

  The whole idea seems crazy, but right now it's all I've got.

  As Alex and Nick continue to talk, I turn and carefully make my way toward the stairs, and then I head up toward the landing. With each step, I'm terrified that there'll be a loud creaking sound, but miraculously I reach the top and see that the doors to the bedrooms have been left open. I make my way carefully to the nearest, and sure enough I see that one of the boards has an opening that would allow me to get out.

  I glance over my shoulder, to double-check that there's no sign of Alex or Nick coming inside, and then I head over to the door. At the last moment, however, I stop as I see a pair of legs on the floor in another room, poking into view from behind the door of the second bedr
oom.

  “Matt?” I whisper, before heading over and looking inside. “Matt, are -”

  I let out a shocked gasp as soon as I see him. He's on the floor, tied to the bed, and his unconscious face has been badly beaten. There's blood everywhere, and his skin looks to have been split open in several places. I hurry over to him and drop to my knees, but I'm scared to touch him in case I make anything worse.

  “Matt, can you hear me?” I ask, trying not to panic. “Matt, say something!”

  When he doesn't respond, I reach out and press two fingers against the side of his bloodied neck. At first I don't feel any sign of life, but after a moment I'm just about able to detect a heartbeat. He's alive, but I'm not sure he's going to stay that way for long, not without help.

  “Why did they do this to you?” I whisper, before realizing that this must be Nick's work.

  And if he's willing to go this far, there's no telling what else he might do. All my worst fears are coming true: Nick's a psychopath.

  “I'm going to get you out of here,” I continue. “I don't know if you can hear me, but I'm going to get us both out of here, but I have to go and get help, okay?”

  Even as I say those words, however, I know that there's no way I can carry him with me. I don't want to leave him behind, but I figure that my only option is to get out of the house and go for help, and then pray to God that I get back in time with the police. So long as Alex and Nick don't realize that I've made it out of the basement, I at least have a chance. And if I have a chance, then Matt has one too.

  “I'll be back,” I tell Matt, although I doubt he can hear me at all. “I'm not leaving you behind. I mean, I'm leaving, but only to get help. I'll be quick, I swear.”

  I wait, just in case he's able to say anything, and then I lean forward so I can kiss his forehead. Getting to my feet, I hurry to the window and drop back down onto my knees, and then I start trying to push the broken board a little further out of the way. The gap turns out to be not quite large enough for me to crawl out, but the board feels pretty loose so I think I have a chance if I can just force it a little further. The problem, though, is that I can't afford to make too much noise. I can already see the street outside, but I know that if I call for help I'll end up letting Alex and Nick know that I'm free. Even if I managed to get away after that, there'd be a danger that they might do more to Matt.