Night Wraith

by Christopher Fulbright

  The she-creature threw back its head and roared with a terrible lioness-demon howl full of rage. Then it smeared the broken corpse of her father all over the front wall, painting the living room with his blood and dangling entrails. Before it released him, it quickly ripped all the soft flesh from between his legs, leaving a gaping wound that stank of piss and excrement spattering the floor.

  Her father—what was left of him—was flung like so much garbage to the tile of the foyer. The pile of bloodied flesh twitched and shivered.

  The creature leapt through the front picture window in a shower of glass, and was gone.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  Gavin considered for quite some time before he dialed Karen’s number. He didn’t know how she was going to take what he needed to say, but the bottom line was that he did need to talk to someone. To another adult. He needed to hear himself say it out loud, because only then would it be real, not just something that he—and now his daughter—had been imagining as the eve of Beth’s death drew near.

  As Karen’s phone rang on the other end, he paced the bedroom. Carly lay on his bed in her pink sweats, tangled in the covers, head buried deep in a pillow on the far side of the bed where Karen slept the night before. He had the light on in the master bathroom, the door partially closed, shedding just enough light by which to see. The television on his nightstand played FOX News for nothing more than a comforting murmur to keep them both from feeling so alone in the house.

  “’lo?” Karen’s voice was sleepy, tinged with concern.

  “Karen,” Gavin kept his voice low. His pressed the Mute button on the remote.

  “Gavin?”

  “Hi.”

  “Hi. Is everything okay?”

  He took a deep breath, rubbing his face. Stubble rasped his palm as he sat heavily on the edge of the bed, light from the television sending dancing shadows across the floor. “Yes. I think so. I just ... something strange happened here tonight and I ... well, I don’t know how to say this. I just had to talk to someone about it and well, hey, you’re the lucky winner.”

  “Okay. Are you all right? Is Carly okay?”

  “Yes, but ...”

  Karen was silent on her end.

  “Jeez, I’m sorry, Karen, I don’t know what I was thinking. You’ve got to get up in the morning, and I just thought ...”

  “Yes?”

  “I ... you’re the only one I’ve got.”

  “I’m here for you anytime. You know that. Just tell me what’s going on, Gavin.”

  He stared at the carpet. His eyes roamed across the floor to the door of the bedroom. He remembered last night with Karen, after they made love, how he thought he’d seen shadows beyond the door, moving in the hallway.

  “Sweetheart,” she said. And the tone in her voice—its deep sincerity and the simple fact that terms of endearment between them were still very new—opened the door for him to be honest and tell her what happened. It felt strange, a little forced, but it felt good, too. She disarmed him. That one simple word gave him permission to say the crazy things that he’d been trying to figure out how to frame not to sound so damned crazy.

  “Karen, Carly saw something tonight.”

  “Something?”

  “She thinks she saw her mother.”

  “Oh. Okay.” Karen’s voice didn’t take on the skeptical tone he thought it might. Instead, her curiosity seemed piqued. More serious, like a reporter getting at the truth clings to an interviewee’s every word.

  “I think she did, too.”

  “Did you see something, Gavin?”

  “God help me, Karen.” He rubbed his face. “I think I have. I don’t know for a fact that it was Beth, of course, but I have seen something in the house.”

  “A ghost, Gavin?”

  It was the word he’d been avoiding because it sounded ludicrous. Yet, now it didn’t sound ridiculous at all. A chill slipped over his skin.

  “I think so. It was like a shadow. I’d even have sworn I was seeing things out of the corner of my eye this past week. I thought I was just tired. But last night, before we went to sleep, I saw movement in the hall beyond the door, and no one was there. And now tonight, Carly says the ... ghost ... spoke to her.”

  “It spoke?” Karen sounded wide awake now.

  Gavin felt Carly stir on the bed beside him and when he turned around her eyes were open, watching him, glistening. He reached out and absently took her hand in his. Her flesh was hot; her hand felt frail and soft.

  “What did it say, Gavin?”

  “It said, ‘protect you.’”

  “‘Protect you.’ It said this to Carly?”

  “That’s what she said.”

  After a few moments of thoughtful silence, Karen said, “I’ve seen it, too.”

  “What? When?”

  “The morning you had me come over to watch Carly. I was doing the dishes after we had breakfast. I would have sworn that Carly had come into the kitchen behind me, but when I turned to talk to her, there was just a ... flitting shadow. A shape. I thought I was seeing things.”

  His gut reaction was to say, For crying out loud why didn’t you say something? But she didn’t say anything for the same damn reason he hadn’t said anything: because he’d think she’d seen too many episodes of Ghost Hunters.

  Gavin took a deep breath. As much as her news sank a stake of dread deeper into him, it also granted him a greater level of acceptance. All three of them had seen something. Which meant something was definitely going on. Something paranormal. And given what he knew about the way she’d died, about every damn thing she’d been mixed up with before she’d died, this neither surprised him, nor set him at ease. His mind wandered back to his discussion with Ms. Maeveen, and then farther back, to the things he’d found in Beth’s medicine cabinet ... even worse, to what he’d found in her shoebox in the bottom of the closet months after she’d died.

  “Gavin?”

  He realized it had been a long time since he’d spoken. He also realized tears had formed in his eyes. He swallowed familiar pain. He squeezed Carly’s hand in his.

  “Do you want me to come over?”

  “No, no.”

  “I will, Gavin, it’s no problem.”

  “No, you need your rest. I feel bad enough calling about this in the middle of the night.”

  The charming sound of Karen’s laughter came softly though the receiver. “Well,” she said, “It’s not like I’m going to drift back off into a restful sleep now. God, I’m creeped out.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “I don’t see how you’re going to get any sleep there. Why don’t you guys come over here?”

  “Oh, babe, I really don’t want to impose.”

  “Gavin. Bring Carly and come on over for tonight. At least until we’ve had a chance to talk this out. Maybe in the light of day we can come up with a sane way to proceed. You can’t think straight right now, and you must be staring at the hallway just waiting for something to show up again.”

  Gavin laughed. “You got me.”

  He looked at Carly and she was wide awake, sitting next to him, staring at the television, but listening to every word he said.

  “We’ll be over in a few minutes.”

  * * *

  Everything in Karen’s apartment was plush and stylishly modern. Sitting on her overstuffed white couches was like resting on clouds, surrounded by polished black furniture with glass tops. She had one soft light on in the corner, and the florescent kitchen lights bled over the bar into the small, cozy living room. It seemed bright and serene. Restful and safe. Carly was curled into the corner of the love seat, sound asleep, a half-drunk cup of warm milk next to her. Karen gripped her own cup with both hands, a knit afghan draped over her silken gown. Her hair shone upon her sh
oulders, her face lacked makeup, but was still as beautiful as ever.

  Gavin leaned forward, looked for a coaster, but ended up setting his cup directly upon the coffee table. He hadn’t been here often, but when he was, he always felt like he was messing the place up.

  “Don’t worry about it,” she said, reading his thoughts. He smiled and she winked at him, squeezing his thigh. She left her hand there, warming the spot where it rested. “What will you do?”

  He gave a tired groan and leaned back into the couch, rubbing his hand over his unshaven face.

  “To be honest, Karen, I can’t say. There are a million things going through my head. I know this isn’t easy for you to hear ... things about Beth, and I know it caused some trouble for us before—”

  “Forget it, Gavin. I understand. I have to let that go. I know the whole thing must have caused you a lot of pain. That can’t be easy for anyone. And knowing you, I’m sure you didn’t get any counseling after it happened. Which might have helped.”

  “I don’t need any mothering, now.” His tone was resigned, not angry.

  She smiled sadly. “I know you don’t.”

  “There is one thing I didn’t tell you about Beth. One thing I didn’t even tell Carly.” Gavin lowered his voice and watched his daughter closely to see if she stirred. He watched the slow rise and fall of her chest, felt Karen waiting next to him, giving him the opening he needed. “I told you that Beth sought some unconventional means to treat her depression. She went to the metaphysical store and talked to the guy there who prescribed her those strange herbs, the new age healer, Davis Crowley.”

  “Right. You thought she’d stopped taking them, or that they had the reverse effect and sent her into a spiral.”

  Gavin watched Carly as he spoke because he desperately did not want his daughter to hear what he had to say next, but he also desperately had to get it off his chest. Neither could he look Karen in the eyes as he told her: “She was also having an affair with Crowley. She was cheating on me with him. I guess for several months.”

  “Oh, Gavin.” Karen caressed his arm with soft fingertips. “I’m sorry.”

  “You know, I know that Beth loved me, but she went through a lot being bi-polar. It’s one extreme to another. Love in the morning, violence in the evening, sometimes solid days of depression so deep I was afraid she’d never come back. And then when she did, it was the best feeling in the world to have her back, the woman I loved appearing again like the sun from behind a month of clouds ... but a lot of times, especially near the end, that woman I loved was with me less and less, and in her place was someone I didn’t know, someone who threatened to take away everything I loved and plunge it all into darkness. That was the part of Beth that left me, that Crowley preyed on.”

  “I’m so sorry.”

  Gavin shrugged, but he kept watching Carly, seeing Beth in her face. “After Beth killed herself ... after the funeral, I cleaned out her closet and found e-mails between them that she had printed out and saved. Professions of love, everything he promised her he could be that I wasn’t.” Gavin shook his head and finally met Karen’s eyes. He felt his jaw clinch slightly. “Despite the fact that she left me in spirit—at least part of her anyway—I know she never left Carly. That’s why I really believe that she appeared to Carly tonight. And when she said ‘protect you’ I swear it scared the goddamn hell out of me.”

  “Because of everything that’s been happening in town.”

  Gavin nodded. “Because of everything that’s been happening in town.”

  He leaned back into the cushions and tried to relax. She leaned against him and he cradled her in his arms. She nuzzled his chest.

  “Karen, I have no idea what killed those kids up at Rainbow Falls last weekend, and I have no idea what killed those kids in that car accident. I know the sheriff’s department closed the case on the first deal, and that the car accident seems to be just that ... an accident. But there’re some strange and unexplainable commonalities between them.”

  Gavin held Karen to his chest, felt the warmth of her in his arms. He looked lovingly at his daughter and thanked God that Karen had let them come here tonight and have solace from the world they’d struggled through together for the past several years. He ran his fingers gently through her hair. “The bottom line is, if something—some damned thing—is coming for kids in Carson Lake High School and that thing is supernatural, I believe that Beth would come back.”

  Karen sat up, her eyes pinched, wary of what he’d said.

  “Do you think she’s come back to—”

  “Protect Carly. That tonight she was letting her know: something’s out there, and I’ve come to protect you.”

  Karen’s dark eyes dilated in the shadows. She searched his face and laid her head upon his chest. He felt her shiver in his arms.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

  Abigail trembled in the passenger seat of her mother’s Escalade. She had wrapped herself in her mother’s long fur coat and they’d both run out of the house, then jumped in her car. In the driver’s seat, her mother had snot running from her nose, chest heaving with panic as she screamed at the 911 operator and tried to explain what had happened but in the end only managed to convince them to fucking send someone over now!

  Her mother ended the call, threw the phone, and collapsed into sobs, clutching the steering wheel. Abigail couldn’t keep her tears contained either, and the agony of what she’d witnessed tonight, what it all really meant, worked its way through her like a typhoon that laid waste to everything sane inside of her. She reached for her mother, and they held each other and cried until they were both shivering uncontrollably from the cold. Mom started the Escalade and let the vehicle warm up, wiping her eyes clear to peer out all of the windows. Her mother took a deep, tremulous breath.

  “My god, Abi, what the hell was that?”

  “I ... I don’t know, Mom.” And her throat swelled again, choking off any hope of offering her mother any kind of explanation for the creature. She wasn’t sure could really have offered one anyway.

  I didn’t even cast the spell, she told herself. How did it come through?

  After they’d calmed down, and after the cold air blasting from the heater vents finally warmed, thawing her bare legs and feet that had gone numb, Abigail chanced a look across the snowy lawn to the house.

  The front picture window was shattered. The lights were on in the living room. Thankfully, she could not see the blood, which was smeared all along the inner front wall of the house. Her father’s corpse lay just inside the front door, and if not for the sheer state of panic that prompted her mother to yank her off the stairs and flee, they wouldn’t have been able to cross the threshold of that door, as it required pushing part of him out of the way, and then tracking through his blood onto the front steps and down to the walk. Abigail wiggled her feet as they tingled under the warm vents. She could feel the tightness on their soles, and knew it came from her father’s dried blood.

  “It’s going to be okay, baby,” Mom said to her, unconvincing as all hell. “We’re gonna be all right.” It was just a mother’s litany. “The police will come, and after we talk to them, we’re going to a hotel.”

  Their eyes were drawn to the mirrors. Neither of them could stop peering into the night’s deep shadows. Abigail tried not to look around, but she did so instinctively and so did her mother. They were looking for the creature. Expecting it to come back for them. Neither of them could relax. The tension in the car kept them on edge, waiting for something else terrible to happen.

  Finally, after minutes they both spent nursing impending fear, the sounds of sirens resounded along the street. The flashing globes of an ambulance and police car probed the darkness in nightmare red and blue. The mournful songs of their sirens rose to earsplitting volume as the vehicles rushed to the curb. Lights went on in the neighbors’ ho
uses.

  Mom reached out and squeezed Abigail’s hand as a big policeman with hard features, gray hair and stubbled cheeks hurried to their car. The man tapped on the window, and even though she’d seen him coming, Mom jumped and gave a startled peep before she lowered the window.

  The old cop’s breath curled in wispy tendrils from between his lips in the frigid night. Abigail felt the air from the open window. They could smell a hint of coffee on his breath. He looked in and gave them a shrewd once-over, taking in everything in the car, then coming, apparently to the realization that they were nothing more than piss-your-pants scared.

  “Miss Rebecca Holman?”

  “Yes, I’m Rebecca,” her mother said. Fear had stripped away the years that usually weighed in her voice. She sounded just like Abigail felt—a scared little girl.

  “I’m Sergeant Oliver Raines, ma’am. I need to speak with both of you about what you saw. I just need you to stay put while I go inside, all right?”

  Rebecca nodded.

  Oliver caught Abigail’s eyes and she had to look away, into her lap, hugging herself as the cold rushed in to embrace her. He gave them a brief, kindly smile, nodded, and then hurried over to where the EMTs were removing the stretcher from the back of the ambulance. They watched as the men went up to the open front door, and noticed their sudden pause as they spotted the gruesome remains of Landon Holman.

  Rebecca Holman began to quietly cry.

  Abigail had to remind herself to breathe, fending off the possibility of the creature coming back and rending flesh from the cop and EMTs. She carefully scanned the neighborhood’s dark areas, praying it would never return.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

  Carly awoke on a fluffy white love seat, wrapped in a maroon afghan, smelling a mixture of potpourri from a nearby coffee table and bacon that sizzled in a kitchen. It took her just a moment to remember what had happened last night—the dark shape of her mother’s ghost in her doorway, in her bedroom—and to recall that they’d come to Karen’s sometime early in the morning.