314 Book 3 (Widowsfield Trilogy)

by A. R. Wise

  “I don’t want to talk about that,” said Paul as he watched Rachel open the door.

  “Burn it, Paul,” said Rosemary. “It all has to burn.”

  Paul wasn’t sure what she meant, but didn’t risk asking as Alma came back over to help them guide the gurney into the room with Rachel and Stephen. Rachel was moving the other gurneys in the room out of the way and Paul saw that Stephen was sitting in front of a laptop.

  “Sorry,” said Stephen as he closed the computer and stood. “We had the doors locked because…” He looked uncertain and then shrugged. “Well…”

  Rachel finished her husband’s explanation, “Because this place is fucking creepy.”

  Helen rushed to the counter where Stephen had been working on the computer and told him to move. He stepped aside, and Helen pushed the computer out of the way. Paul noticed that one of Stephen’s cameras was connected to the laptop via a USB cord, and he wondered what the two had actually been up to in the room that they needed the doors locked. He didn’t have time to ponder it.

  “Paul, help me,” said Helen as she pointed at the top shelf of one of the cabinets over the counter. “Grab the box of gauze up there, please.”

  “Oh my God,” said Rachel as she finally noticed that Rosemary had been stabbed. “Is that a knife? What happened?”

  “She got stabbed,” said Helen, obviously annoyed with the reporter.

  “How?” asked Rachel.

  “It’s a long story,” said Alma.

  “Did you guys get Michael and Ben?” asked Stephen.

  “Yes,” said Alma as she walked around to the other side of Rosemary’s gurney so that she could hold the woman’s hand. “They’re outside with Jacker.”

  The building’s power finally cut out after a sudden, loud bang. They were left in darkness and Rachel succinctly expressed everyone’s thoughts, “Well that’s fucking perfect.”

  “I’ve got a flashlight app,” said Stephen as he dug out his phone.

  “There’re some flashlights in the bottom cabinet,” said Helen and Paul went to retrieve them. He pushed aside a box that had a label with the contents handwritten on it: Muriate of Potash. He didn’t know what that was, but pushed the box aside and heard glass bottles clink within it. He found two flashlights and got them both out.

  Stephen used his phone’s app to provide a surprising amount of light. Helen instructed Stephen to hold the phone over Rosemary, and he complied as the nurse worked. He grimaced and looked away, and Helen saw his queasiness. She grunted disapproval and then asked for Alma’s help applying pressure to the wound.

  Rosemary screamed out in pain as Helen began to search the extent of her injury. Helen promised that it would be okay, and then walked Rosemary through the process, explaining every detail to help keep the victim calm.

  “Stephen,” said Rosemary, surprising everyone. “Listen to me. I need you to do something.”

  “Sure, sure,” said Stephen, but his tone didn’t inspire trust. “Whatever you need.”

  “You have to find Oliver.”

  “Rachel already went looking for him,” said Helen.

  “No I didn’t,” said Rachel from beside her husband.

  “Not you,” said Helen. “The nurse I worked with. She went looking for Oliver, but never came back. I don’t know if she got scared and took off or what happened to her.”

  “Oliver’s got her,” said Rosemary.

  “I doubt it,” said Helen. She was humoring Rosemary, but wasn’t taking the wounded woman seriously. “There’s no way you could know that.”

  “She knows all sorts of shit she shouldn’t,” said Paul. “She’s psychic.”

  “He has her down below us,” said Rosemary. “He’s the reason the power went out. He’s trying to use the device…” she was overcome by pain and clenched her teeth until it passed. “You have to go find him.”

  “No,” said Stephen with a laugh as he looked around at the others. He expected them to sympathize with his refusal, but both Alma and Paul glared at him. “You can’t be serious. You want me to go traipsing around this place looking for some lunatic? Are you nuts?”

  “Someone’s got to do it,” said Paul. “I’ll go if you won’t.”

  “No,” said Rosemary. “I need you and Alma here with me. Stephen, you have to trust me. I’ll tell you how to get to him. Just go down there and tell him that Nia is back. Tell him you’re friends with Nia, and he’ll do whatever you say. Get him to come back up here with you.”

  “I’ll go with you,” said Rachel.

  Stephen looked around at the others and then cursed before saying, “Fine. We’ll take the camera with us. We can use the night vision on it.”

  “Be careful,” said Alma, and Stephen groaned an unenthusiastic response.

  CHAPTER 21 – Beneath the Cords

  Inside of The Watcher’s Widowsfield

  Raymond was sitting alone at the Salt and Pepper Diner, staring out the window at the desolate town. A storm had come in, darkening the pavement as the wind kicked up and sent a Styrofoam cup bouncing along the curb until it got stuck in a storm drain.

  “Dad?” asked Raymond as he glanced around the empty restaurant.

  He heard a woman’s moan from somewhere in the building. Raymond scooted out of the bench seat and called again, “Dad?”

  Lightning flashed outside, illuminating the restaurant before the crash of thunder arrived. The large windows of the diner rattled and the faint bulbs above flickered as Raymond cringed in fear. He looked outside and watched as the street got darker still. The wind was blowing strong enough to rattle the street lamps and cause the sign on the bank across the street to shake.

  “Do it again,” said the woman’s breathy voice from the back of the restaurant.

  “Hello?” Raymond called out to the woman, but he didn’t get an answer.

  “Yes. Oh God yes. Just like that,” said the woman as she breathed sharply between each sentence. Raymond wasn’t too young or naïve to know what was happening. He’d watched his sister have sex while he was hiding in her closet, and the noises the woman in the back of the restaurant was making were nearly identical.

  He heard the sound of wet penetration.

  “Harder,” said the woman in a throat expulsion of pleasure.

  Raymond looked at the door that led outside, wondering if he should leave, but the storm was only getting worse. He considered hiding in the bathroom, and wondered if that was where his father had gone, but he was surprised to see a sign dangling from the handle that read, ‘Out of Order.’ Not only was the bathroom broken, but a wooden plank had been nailed across the threshold as if ensuring that no one could go in, or that nothing could get out.

  The woman continued to moan in pleasure, and Raymond could hear the distinct sound of flesh slapping against flesh. Who was having sex?

  Raymond felt ashamed and intrigued all at once. Some of the boys that lived near him were in their early teens, but they still palled around with Raymond’s younger crowd because there weren’t many other kids in the area. While the kids Raymond’s age were content playing hide-and-go-seek, the older boys always had other activities in mind. They talked endlessly about sex, and flaunted the dirty magazines and movies that they’d stolen from their fathers. Raymond always kept quiet about what he’d seen his sister doing, although he thought of it often. Despite the shame he felt, he was undeniably aroused. The burgeoning sexuality of young boys is a force of nature, and Raymond often fantasized about what he’d seen his sister doing.

  Now he had a chance to witness it again.

  His heart raced as the sexual act continued in the back of the restaurant. Part of him wanted nothing more than to flee, but a stronger impulse led him to creep behind the counter and towards the two-way door that led to the kitchen. He just wanted to peek.

  The woman continued to command, “Harder,” as Raymond got to the door. He set his hand on the metal kick-plate on the bottom half of the door and gently eased the door back
a few inches so that he could peer in. The hinges squeaked, but not enough to alert the people in the kitchen.

  He saw a large man standing with his back to the door. He was still wearing his clothes, and he had shaggy black hair that bounced as he thrust himself forward. Raymond heard the slap of wet flesh again, and he was confused by what he was looking at. The man’s girth nearly hid the woman in front of him, but then the man stepped back slightly, allowing Raymond to see the girl better.

  She was much smaller than the man, with short blonde hair and silver studs in the dimples of her cheeks. An ornate, colorful tattoo was emblazoned across both arms and down across her chest, and he caught a glimpse of her right breast as the man moved further back.

  Raymond’s heart was thundering in his chest as he watched, hoping to see more.

  “Again,” said the woman. “Harder.”

  The man surged forward, once again blocking Raymond’s view of the woman’s body. The husky man’s arm thrust forward and the woman’s head fell back as she gasped in pleasure. Raymond wasn’t sure what he was witnessing, and guessed that the man was using a sex toy of some sort on the woman, like the ones Raymond had seen in his friend’s pornography movie.

  Something dripped down from between the two and splashed in a pool of liquid on the floor. Whatever the two were doing, it was creating a mess that was falling to the floor between them. It was too dark to see the color of the fluid, but then the man stepped back again, revealing even more of the woman’s body for Raymond to see.

  Suddenly, the eroticism ended. Raymond’s perversion turned horrific as he saw that the woman’s stomach had been stabbed multiple times. The man was holding a butcher knife, and had cut the woman open enough that her innards were spilling out to the floor beneath them.

  Raymond clasped his hands over his mouth and fell backward. He wanted to run, but the door swung open further before he could get away. Michael Harper was standing behind the door, and had been there the whole time. He held the door open and smiled down at Raymond as he asked, “Do you like what you see?”

  Raymond tried to move backward, but something was holding him where he was. He pushed harder, but it didn’t help. He was caught on the floor like a fly in a spider web. Michael Harper was free of the trap, and he smirked down at the young boy the same way that he had when he’d discovered him hiding in Terry’s closet.

  Michael closed his eyes and raised his head slightly, as if smelling the pleasant aroma of fresh bread. He smiled back down at Raymond and said, “I love your fear.”

  Behind Michael, the massacre in the kitchen continued. The man never turned to see Raymond, but the girl was staring directly at him. She licked her lips just before her assailant stabbed the knife back into her gut. The damage to her stomach was extreme, but she continued to act as if the assault pleased her.

  Raymond wanted to scream. He wanted to leave this nightmare behind, but his body was trapped on the floor. Below him swirled the fog that had blighted Widowsfield for sixteen years. As the frigid vapor rose around him, he was reminded of the awful memories he’d gratefully forgotten moments ago. Green lightning flashed around them, crackling through the fog as it seeped across the restaurant, carrying with it the souls of the others that were trapped here.

  Michael’s hand was still on the door, but Raymond could see that it was changing shape. The skin on his hand was undulating, like a flesh-colored glove that was filled with worms. Black wires stretched out from the tips of his fingers and disappeared within the door. Michael knelt down to get closer to Raymond, and at first his hand seemed tied to the door, but then the wires stretched and snapped, freeing him. The black cords writhed and shrank, eventually pulling themselves back into the door and disappearing.

  Michael Harper leaned in closer to Raymond, and the fog avoided his touch, shrinking away as if repelled by his body. Michael was looking down at Raymond, and he set his hand on the boy’s left thigh. Raymond could feel the cords grinding within Michael’s palm, as if the entire innards of the man were just a mass of coiled, writhing snakes. Michael’s head was at Raymond’s level, and he stared into the boy’s eyes as he got closer.

  The man’s eyes had turned wholly black, and as he approached, Raymond was forced to stare into them. Within Michael Harper was an endless mass of twisting cords, and the blackness seemed to stretch into infinity. But then, deep within the black, he caught sight of an even larger shape, and the realization that there was more than just the cords terrified him even more than he already was. Raymond wished he could close his eyes and never see into the darkness again, but he was trapped in The Watcher’s web.

  “Let’s play,” said Michael, though his voice had become deeper and echoed as if they’d been transported to the innards of a steel box.

  The Watcher’s hands burst, revealing the mass of black cords within as the skin ripped away. The cords pierced Raymond’s thigh and started to course through his body, tearing through muscle and flesh, causing the child immense agony. Cords began to seep from the corners of Michael’s eyes as if they were tears.

  When the Watcher was in the midst of tearing the boy apart, the world resounded with a new noise. It wasn’t the crack of thunder, but a more metallic sound that shook the walls. The silverware beneath the counter shuddered in their plastic cups, and a napkin holder fell and bounced on the rubber mat.

  “Did you hear that?” asked The Watcher as he rose up from his victim. The cords that had been snaking out of his shattered hand snapped free of the creature and wormed their way into Raymond to continue their torture, independent of their master’s will.

  Again, the pounding of metal shook the earth, and The Watcher nearly lost his balance. The cords within him quivered. Raymond saw The Watcher’s true form revealed. His false skin cracked and split, revealing the wires within him twisting and writhing about. The pounding of metal that dominated their world was causing the wires to vibrate, and his skin suit was torn apart by the motion. The grinding wires swallowed up strips of skin as other pieces of flesh fell to the floor with a wet splash.

  The creature spoke, although his voice no longer mimicked Michael Harper. Now the monster sounded more like two pieces of metal sliding across one another, but the noise formed a hiss of a word, “Vess.”

  All the walls around them began to quiver the same as the wires beneath The Watcher’s skin suit. His illusion fell away, and the façade of the Salt and Pepper Diner began to crumble away, like strips of wallpaper or chips of paint coming loose. Beneath everything was the mess of cords, like maggots beneath dead skin. Raymond felt the floor beneath him moving, but the fog still held him down. He tried to push down on the floor, but felt his fingers slid into wires there, and then the grinding cords pinched his skin. Within moments, he was being torn apart, caught in The Watcher’s world like a piece of meat being grinded into hamburger. He felt every agonizing second as his body was transformed into pulp, but his soul refused to leave. It wasn’t until he felt the icy grip of the fog cover his face that he finally felt peace. But he knew, just as all the others in the fog did, that his peace was fleeting. It would all begin again, and he would suffer just as much, if not more, than he had this time. The only thing he could look forward to were the few short, blissful minutes where he would be alone in the diner, and ignorant of The Watcher’s plan for him.

  In Cada E.I.B.’s parking lot

  March 13th, 2012

  Shortly before 6:00 AM

  Jacker was waiting beside the security van with his arms crossed. He watched the caged light that was above the entrance as it flickered. It would grow dim, and then flash bright, threatening to break at any moment.

  The moths’ enticement by the light was unfazed, and they continued to spin around and around, thwacking into the metal bars in their fervor. The combination of his weariness and the pulsing light made the moths’ dance nearly hypnotic.

  The crook of his arm itched.

  He scratched at the place where he used to put the needle in wh
en he was shooting heroin. He could feel the vein beneath his skin, thick and plump, and just the sensation of pressing against the vein gave him pleasure. He closed his eyes and imagined his finger was a needle, tapping into the vein, delivering euphoria. He felt his lips grow wet at the thought, and he wiped at his mouth after a long sigh.

  He reached to his pocket in search of the coin that Paul had given him, but remembered that he’d given it to Rosemary. Even though the symbolic coin didn’t belong to him, he still longed for the strength it would give him. Addiction was a never-ending curse, and one that required a large reservoir of will to overcome. His will had faded since learning of Debbie’s betrayal.

  His five year relationship with Debbie had never been easy. She was bombastic, commanding, and quick to anger, but Jacker’s mother had been the same way, and he learned that behind the hardest exterior often lay the kindest heart. Debbie’s outward hostility was a defense mechanism, and Jacker was able to break it down and reach the kind-hearted woman within.

  But that was all over now.

  Her decision to sleep with her co-worker had been exactly what Jacker needed to fall back into old habits. At first, he’d only planned on taking a single hit, but any addict could attest to how falling for that same old lie almost guaranteed a binge. The next one always promised to be the last moments before succumbing, and it rarely ever was.

  Jacker’s binge had eased his anger over what Debbie had done, but only while he was high. Each time his high lost its edge, his anger returned, and it always seemed more intense than it had been before. By the time his binge was reaching its end, his sober moments were filled with blind rage. He’d been staying with his dealer, and hadn’t returned home since discovering what Debbie had done. But during a break between doses, his rage grew to the point that he began punching holes in his dealer’s walls. That signaled a forced end to his binge, and left him dealing with his anger without any respite. He exploded at work, and was promptly fired, and that’s when he began to plan his revenge.