Dark Ends: A Horror Collection

by Sara Bourgeois

  “Can I help you, officer?” I asked without stepping out of the doorway. I couldn’t let him in. The last thing I needed was for Kurt to come home and find me with a male cop in the house. Even if I’d had no choice, he’d still be furious.

  “I need to talk to you about your neighbor,” he said and thumbed over his shoulder toward Chloe’s house.

  “Is she okay?” I asked, knowing that she wasn’t.

  “Ms. Greer Turner is deceased,” he said gravely.

  So, I guess I had been wrong about her name. Greer fit too, though. “Wow, that’s awful.”

  “We’ve got a suspect in custody, but we’re having a little trouble with motive. You see, everyone that knows the perp says that he was a really great guy who was completely devoted to Ms. Turner.”

  “Ah, well that might be your motive, then,” I said. “I don’t think that Ms. Turner was entirely devoted to any one particular man.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “She had a lot of gentlemen visitors,” I said. “I can’t say that they were all visiting her for the same thing. I have no way of knowing, but there were a lot of them.”

  “Can I come in?” he asked and tried to look around me. “I’m Officer Hayes by the way. Jared Hayes.” Officer Hayes extended his hand to me, and I took it.

  I didn’t want him to come in, but at the same time, I did. I hadn’t realized how starved I was for human conversation until he showed up on my doorstep.

  “Sure,” I said and stepped back so he could enter. I hoped that my anxiety hadn’t been betrayed in my voice. The last thing I needed was him asking questions about me. “Would you like some coffee?”

  “That would be great,” Jared said and followed me into the kitchen.

  I decided that my usual instant wouldn’t be a good enough offering, so I made a pot of the real stuff. It was Kurt’s and I wasn’t supposed to touch it, but I felt emboldened for some reason.

  “You’re married?” he asked as he took a seat at the kitchen table.

  “Yes,” I said, and I was surprised by how sour the word was as it rolled off my tongue.

  “Did he do that to your eye?”

  “You and I both know that if I say yes to that, you have to arrest him. Domestic violence is a crime against the State. I don’t have the option not to press charges,” I said and poured the coffee.

  “That means it’s not the first time,” Jared said knowingly.

  “I thought you were here to talk about my neighbor,” I said and set the cup down in front of him.

  “Do you have anything else to tell me about her murder?” he asked and took a sip.

  “No. I don’t,” I said.

  “Then why did you invite me in?” he asked with a smile.

  “I didn’t. You asked if you could come in. I figured you had more questions for me.”

  “No. I don’t. I’ll record your statement. I’m not entirely sure why I’m here. You looked so forlorn yesterday, and then when I saw your eye today, I don’t know. I figured you could use a friend.”

  I wasn’t sure what to do at first. The little voice inside my head told me that even sitting there drinking coffee with him was some sort of betrayal, but it had been so long since anyone cared about whether or not I could use a friend. It was paralyzing.

  “If he comes home and you’re here...” I trailed off.

  “He’ll do what exactly?” Officer Hayes asked. “I’m not afraid of him. Besides, I’m sure that he can’t say anything about you helping with a murder investigation.”

  “He won’t say anything to you. He won’t do anything to you. It’s after you leave.”

  “I’ll go if you want me to go,” Jared said.

  My stomach turned. I didn’t want him to leave. I had no idea why, but I just needed him to be there with me right then. Officer Hayes was probably ten years younger than me, and he was so handsome. I had a hard time prying my eyes off of his squared jaw and crystalline blue eyes. He was paying attention to me. Jared wanted to be there with me.

  “You can stay,” I said. “What is it that you want to do? More coffee?”

  “The coffee is good, Maggie, but we both know that’s not why I’m here.” His look had changed from warm and caring to hungry.

  I couldn’t believe how forward he was, but then again, I was the one worried about my husband coming home. His eyes moved down my body and then back up to my face. Something sparked inside of me that I hadn’t felt in a long time.

  “Where?” I asked.

  “Do you have a spare bedroom?”

  “We have several, but none of them have beds yet. Well, one of them has an air mattress.”

  Jared raised one eyebrow and cocked his head to the side. “That sounds fun to me.”

  Jared didn’t stick around long after we were finished. He probably couldn’t because he was on duty, but that was alright with me.

  The things we did upstairs on my air mattress managed to knock something loose in my brain, and after a hearty post-coital meal of grilled cheese and canned tomato soup, I set to work. I wrote like a fiend for three straight hours.

  My hands could barely keep up with my mind, and by the time I had to stop because my wrists hurt, I had written twice as much as my previous daily record.

  I figured I could pop a couple of ibuprofen and get back to work after a cup of coffee, but then I heard it. My basement door opened up softly, but only an inch. I sat there in my chair, transfixed and not entirely sure what I was witnessing.

  “Howdy? Is that you?” I didn’t remember accidently shutting my cat in the basement, but maybe I had. Maybe Jared had.

  The sound of footsteps coming up the stairs made me let out a squeak. “Jared, is that you?” I’m not sure why I thought it was Jared. I’d watched him leave from the front door, but at first, it was the only rational explanation my brain could come up with.

  “Oh shit,” I whispered to myself as something else occurred to me. What if it was Kurt? What if he’d hidden in the basement and he knew everything I’d done? My stomach churned at the thought.

  Another step. I stood up and then back against the wall. Why was whoever it was coming up so slowly? Suddenly, whatever it was sprinted up the steps. The sound took me back to those times when I was a girl and I had to run up the basement stairs to get away from it. I could even swear the sound shifted to behind me for a moment.

  The basement door began to swing open further, and it made a loud creaking sound as it moved. “Who’s there?” I asked as I took a step toward the door.

  “Maggie, wake up.” My head bounced on the floor as Kurt shook my shoulder. “Maggie, what the fuck?”

  The world swam into focus and I had to concentrate hard to keep from throwing up. “Stop fucking shaking me,” I barked at my husband. “Jesus. Give me a minute.”

  “What?” Kurt asked, and he was clearly stunned.

  The truth was, so was I. I couldn’t believe I’d snapped at him like that. It felt good. So good that it almost made up for how badly my head began to pound as he dragged me to my feet.

  “Let go of me,” I shrieked as I planted the palms of my hands on his chest and shoved him hard.

  He raised his hand to backhand me but lowered it again. I watched him ball his hand into a fist. Kurt kept it clenched at his side, though, as he towered over me. His eyes were full of fury. “What has gotten into you? Are you drunk?”

  “No. I’m not drunk.” For some reason, the smart-ass tone that I never would have used with Kurt before would not leave my voice. “I am going to get some dinner.”

  “What do you mean you’re going to get some dinner?” he asked incredulously.

  “I mean, I’m going to go out to eat. I’m famished. See you later,” I said and started for the door.

  He wrapped his hand around my upper arm and yanked me back. “What about me? What is wrong with you?”

  “I actually don’t give a shit what you do. You’ll figure it out,” I said right before the stinging sl
ap popped my jaw. I actually heard it ringing in my head, but all I could do was laugh.

  Kurt’s eyes bulged and his nostrils flared. He was in the mood to do some damage. Instead of cowering, I straightened my back. “Let go of me,” I snarled in a voice so violent that it made him wince.

  He recovered quickly and the hand that slapped me balled into a fist. Before he could hit me again, I stomped on his foot and brought my knee up to his groin. Kurt cried out in pain and dropped to his knees, but he did let go of my arm.

  “There’s TV dinners in the freezer. I assume you can figure out how to use the microwave,” I said before grabbing my purse and heading out to the driveway.

  I was pumped up as I drove into the parking lot at the little bistro downtown I’d wanted to try forever. Kurt didn’t want to go because he’d said that French food was too rich for him. “And besides, French bistros went out of fashion like ten years ago, Mags.” he’d said when I asked to go.

  “Screw him,” I said as I turned off the ignition.

  The scent of butter and fresh bread hit my nose as soon as I stepped out of the car. By the time that I walked through the front doors of the restaurant, I felt free for the first time that I could remember. I was doing something I wanted to do when I wanted to do it, and my husband and parents could shove it.

  Of course, by the time I was taking the last bite of my dessert, the dread had returned. What had I done? As I paid the check, I scrambled to think of what I could do next. Going home would be a nightmare, but what other choice did I have?

  If I’d gone to my parents’ house and explained the situation, my mother would have just called me stupid. They would probably let me stay with them, but living with them was honestly worse than Kurt.

  I had money. I could go to a hotel. Hell, I could even divorce Kurt, but that idea terrified me more than going home. What if my writing success was a fluke? What if I never made another dime off my books? The money I had wouldn’t last forever.

  This was a fear that I’d had since I was a child. In my mind, I couldn’t take care of myself. I felt helpless and dependent. That night wasn’t going to be any different.

  Instead of trying to figure it out, I sucked it up and went home. By the time I walked in the front door, I’d convinced myself that I’d deserved whatever I got.

  Chapter Four

  Night Three

  I laid on the bed with a package of frozen peas pressed against my temple. A bag of frozen corn was on my ankle. At least the injuries were on the same side.

  Kurt’s fury had been so severe that he’d already deflated into the honeymoon phase. He’d cried and begged for my forgiveness. It’d been a long time since he’d done that.

  “It’s okay,” I soothed, because I knew from experience that if I didn’t, he might fly into a rage again. “I know you love me.”

  Kurt went into the kitchen to make me hot cocoa. I didn’t even really like hot cocoa that much. I mean, it’s okay, but Kurt believed it was my absolute favorite thing.

  It was pretty dark, but there seemed to be a light coming from the cornfield outside. I went to the window and peeled back the curtain.

  Sure enough, there was a glow emanating from the stalks a few hundred feet away. I couldn’t tell how far away it was exactly, and for some reason, I needed to know.

  I stood up and groaned loudly because I’d put too much weight on my swollen ankle. That wasn’t going to stop me, though. I kept most of my weight on my good leg and limped to the base of the stairs. I knew that I could see better from the upstairs window.

  Gripping the rail with one hand and pushing against the wall with the other to steady myself, I hopped up to the first step. Thankfully, the carpet muffled most of the sound, and I didn’t attract Kurt’s attention. It had been tortuously painful to sneak past him when I went by the kitchen. I’d had to put a great deal more weight on my injured leg.

  I made it to the landing at the top of the stairs much faster than I’d expected. With less difficulty than I’d expected, I made my way into the spare bedroom with my air mattress. Images of my activities with Officer Hayes flashed through my mind, and I smiled even as white-hot pain shot from my ankle up my leg.

  After I pushed the curtain open, I knelt down. It probably appeared as though I was kneeling in prayer in front of the window, but I was mostly trying to take some of the pressure off of my injured leg.

  From what I could tell, the glow radiated from the ground to less than a foot above the corn stalks. Even though I was too far away, I could feel its warmth. The heat was as sinister as hellfire, but it warmed me. It gave me strength.

  “Maggie,” I heard Kurt call. “Where did you go?”

  I didn’t answer because I didn’t want to take my eyes off the field. Something familiar stirred in the rows. I could see the swaying as it moved around within the light.

  It was bad and wrong, and I felt horrible for being so intrigued by the thing. At the same time, I wanted it to come into the house. I needed it so badly that I clasped my hands together and bowed my head. I hadn’t knelt down to pray, but pray is exactly what I did.

  The words didn’t matter. It was more the idea. My petition was an invitation. My invitation was an invocation.

  “I’m done,” I said and stood up.

  I heard Kurt at the bottom of the stairs. “Maggie, are you up there?” he called out to me.

  “I am,” was my only response. Thankfully, there was a nightgown in the spare room. I didn’t remember putting it there, but it was a nice surprise. It meant I didn’t have to go downstairs again.

  “What are you doing up there?” he asked and took the first step up. I heard the riser groan like the basement steps had so many times.

  “I’m getting ready for bed,” I called back. “Good night.”

  “Mags, don’t be like that. You know it’s not good for us if you keep punishing me. Come down.” His last part sounded a little less like pleading.

  “I’m fine, thanks,” I said before closing the spare bedroom door and locking it.

  “Did you just lock the door?”

  “Good night, Kurt,” I sang through the door.

  “I can get the key thing and unlock that. Don’t be stupid, Maggie.”

  “Go ahead and I’ll cut your throat,” I said with a smile.

  “What the fuck, Mags?” Kurt said. “What’s wrong with you? I’m calling your mother.”

  “Go ahead. I’ll cut hers too.”

  It was quiet for a couple of minutes, but I could tell he was still standing down there. I hadn’t heard the sound of him moving off the bottom step.

  “You’re obviously stressed. I’ll see you in the morning,” Kurt said and retreated to the master bedroom.

  Twenty-Seven Years Ago

  In Mother’s opinion, the birthday party had been a success. Sure, she’d had to lock Maggie in the closet for over an hour because the girl had gotten mouthy about how it was HER birthday. But, the upside was that she’d gotten to decorate the house in peace.

  Everyone knew that when a child was Margaret’s age, the birthday was supposed to be more about the mother. After all, Maggie’s mother was the one who made sure that the girl was dressed in pretty dresses and did well in preschool. The girl owed Mother for her kindness.

  When it was almost time for the party, Mother got Maggie out of the closet. She had to put her in a new dress because the girl had messed in it, and she had to wash all of the snot and tears off her face.

  Mother had gotten Maggie to stop crying in time for the party by promising her any present she wanted. It had worked because Mags was just so happy to see her mother smiling again. She didn’t mean to make Mother so angry.

  Maggie knew that her mother would be upset later about the dress, but she’d done her best to hold it. She’d tried to tell her mother that she had to go when Mother was closing the closet door, but Mother didn’t listen.

  The entire time she was in the closet, Maggie kept hoping that her father woul
d come home. He didn’t because he wasn’t home much on the weekends. Mother had said he’d be home for the party, but Maggie knew that meant he wouldn’t arrive until a few minutes before it started.

  Maggie sat quietly and watched her mother build a pyramid with her presents. She felt like she should be helping in some way, but wasn’t sure what to do. If she did the wrong thing, Mother would get angry again. Maggie looked at the clock and knew there was still enough time for her to go back in the closet before guests arrived.

  The doorbell rang and Maggie jumped up. “I’ll get it,” she called out happily. Not only was she excited because her birthday party was about to begin, but she was also excited because Mother wouldn’t get angry in front of guests. Maggie could relax for a little while.

  Maggie watched as her mother’s friends and coworkers arrived one by one. Her father showed up a few minutes after the first guests. Mother gave him a look, but she didn’t say anything angry.

  None of her school friends were arriving, though. Mother had promised to talk to their parents and invite them. Maggie couldn’t believe that no one would come. Finally, her friend Lacey from down the street knocked on the door. It was then that Mags knew she was the only friend coming. Lacey was the one person Mother couldn’t hide the party from because she lived down the street. She was the one friend who came to Maggie’s party.

  Maggie and Lacey quickly grew bored in the house where the adults were sitting around chatting. There were no party games, and the girls couldn’t even watch a movie because the adults were in the living room.

  “Mom, can we go outside and play?” Maggie asked as bravely as she could muster. At least if she and Lacey could go outside, they could do something fun.

  “You have guests,” Mother said. “Don’t be rude.”

  This made Maggie very upset, and she was about to stomp her foot and say that they weren’t her guests. There would have been hell to pay, probably a whole night in the closet, but it would’ve been worth it to humiliate Mother just once in front of her friends.