Frightful Tales #1: Rose's Thorn

by Wesley Thomas

  “Wait!” he hollered.

  “You need to open the box and get everything we are gonna need first,” Toby instructed, eyelids fluttering, but forcing himself to stay lucid.

  Laura relinquished her hold and opened the first aid box, pulling out objects as per Toby's instructions. Plenty of bandages, alcohol cleanser, and a safety pin. Soon enough there was a neat pile aside the first aid box, ready and waiting to be used.

  “Right, do it,” Toby ordered, biting his tongue and tensing in preparation for the impending pain.

  She admired his gallant attitude and felt awfully responsible for this whole thing. But there was all the time in the world to feel guilty, right now she needed to get a hold, both of herself and the candlestick. Her grip relocated itself on the stick as she took a deep breath and yanked it out. There was a moist squelch as Toby squealed through gritted teeth, clenching every tooth through painful whimpers. Heaps of blood, without hesitation, gushed from the wound. Globules of crimson fluid soiled clothing and stained flesh, spurting from the puncture energetically.

  “Quick, put some alcohol cleanser on a pad and rub the wound,” Toby told her.

  She obeyed. But from several movies she'd seen Laura could have sworn it was more important to clog the wound first. But then again her parents weren't wealthy doctors. She laid him down on the floor as the blood's flow eased off, giving her the opportune time to quickly clean the gash.

  “Now wrap the bandage around tightly, and use lots of it,” he advised, eyelids drooping and lips barely moving.

  Laura spun a bundle of white round and round. When she was finished it looked as though he was wearing an armband, ready to go for a swim. Then to add the finishing touch a safety pin clipped the padding together. A circle of red stained the bandage, but the hectic rush of blood had appeared to decrease considerably, platelets rushing to heal and clot the injury.

  “You did a great job,” Toby half heartedly smiled, energy draining.

  “Being told by someone much younger than me, but thanks,” she laughed, but was pleased with the job she had done. Laura just hoped it was enough.

  “Now we just have to wait for the police, and that shouldn't be much longer now. Hang in there,” Laura rubbed his head like a caring mother, flinching at how cold it was. Now all they had to do was wait.

  It was 00:30am on the digital clock in the panic room. The good news, Laura should be dead by now, but wasn't. But the bad news was that their hope was evaporating. So much so its existence will have disappeared all together very soon, leaving pessimism embedded into them.

  “Where are they?” Toby asked, resembling a ghost, bags puffing his bloodshot eyes and lids drooping like a decrepit old man.

  The whites of them marked with tiny red squiggles, adding to the look of exhaustion and lack of well-being. Laura ransacked her mind for an answer that would sustain the last reserves of prosperity that may dwell within him. Tell him that the traffic was bad? Yeah right, at this time the roads would be dead. Tell him that they were downstairs waiting to get in? No, unrealistic. So she was honest.

  “I don't know Toby, they should be here by now, I'm sure they are on their way though,” she stroked his arm gently.

  “Pass me the laptop, I think I just found a way out of here,” Toby abruptly informed, growing weaker and weaker with every word but determined regardless. Laura scoured the place, turning everything upside down and inside out, and found a large, but lightweight, portable computer on a shelving unit. Curiosity was building within her as to what could help them. The authorities had already been contacted and were on their way. What more could Toby do? He opened the laptop and it purred to life, just before a web of small squares appeared on-screen. Each flashed white, then colour spread throughout the screen of squares. It took a moment for Laura to make out what exactly the squares were. But the furniture looked familiar, and the layout of each.... It was rooms in the castle; it was the well disguised CCTV cameras!

  “How did you know this?” Laura was grateful, but suspicious.

  “Dad showed me years ago, I only just remembered. This is one of the places all cameras can be monitored. Obviously this isn't all of them, but you can scroll through to see all rooms that have surveillance.” Toby's eyes flickered as his head rolled onto the metal wall. Clunk.

  “Toby,” Laura panicked, gently cupping his cheek; it was still cold.

  “Oh God, Toby, come on, wake up,” Laura pleaded, chest tight and eyes watering.

  But his eyes were sealed shut. Laura found a shred of courage to carry on, placing a hand on his heart. Luckily it was still beating, albeit very gently. She ransacked the place for blankets, sifting through everything. She rifled through a set of large metal drawers in the far corner. The first few had books, stationery and tools. But stuffed in the bottom were tonnes of clothing, bed sheets and blankets.

  She brought them to Toby, dropping them on the floor beside him. Unsure of whether he should be moved onto a bed or not, she chose to gently nudge him to the closest wall. Laura propped him up and tore off one of his pyjama sleeves that was drenched in blood. Then one by one wrapped each around him, shaking whilst doing so, but persevering nonetheless. When done she had a plan to find a way out, by attaining the location of the clown and then working around that as to leave the house, undetected. But was that the wisest plan given Toby's condition? He was badly injured and would need to be carried. Further more, outside was dangerous. The cold rain and no help had arrived yet. Or maybe it had! The proverbial light bulb switched on, giving her the intelligence to search the surveillance and see if there was anyone outside. There must be, at least that is what she was counting on. Presto! There was a camera that must be fixed at the front of the main tower that they were at the top of. But there was nothing. No police car and no sign of any help. Laura's stomach dropped. A vacant slot of gravel and vast green land all around, but no help. This was a major blow to her positivity, winding her badly.

  Laura skimmed through the many cameras. Swipe after swipe showed the never-ending list of rooms. Each one empty. Until she stumbled upon one just outside the panic room. The clown was in front of the door, staring up at the camera, a creepy grin painted on his face.

  Laura was horrified. How does he know? He had no idea she was looking through that camera at that exact moment, given the hundreds plotted on the property. The blue furry wig sat atop his head, with white, red and blue paint coating his face. Laura was terrified, but a morbid fascination prevented her from looking away. The mash of rainbow colours was oddly mystifying. Until he lifted a piece of paper, as if he knew she was watching at that very moment. It took a second for her eyes to focus, but it read.

  'I KNOW YOU ARE WATCHING ME AND I AM GOING TO KILL YOU'.

  How the hell does he know that? Oh God help us!

  Laura's sense of security took a serious hit. How on earth was it possible he knew the exact moment she was looking? How did this man even know about the laptop that showed all surveillance footage? It was beyond frightening; it was totally baffling. Even worse, how could they escape with the psycho clown in their path? If he didn't move, they were trapped. Laura was circling in a pool of worries, doubts, and the uncertainty of her future. She sat choking on regret: thinking about her father, about the mistakes, the amends she wished she could make, the people she wanted to talk to, and apologize too. In what felt like the final moments, Laura was in a vice like grip, having life thrown in her face, a chocolate bar dangling just out of a child's reach. The things she will never again know: happiness, accomplishment, goals, fun, joy, even experiencing anger, and resolving conflict seemed more appealing than this nightmare. She'd never felt the touch of a man, that kind of touch that changes your identity, takes a person's virginity. So many parts of life yet to be explored, marriage, kids, finding a career, growing old. All the things taken for granted and assumed a right not a privilege. Some that people moan and complain about. All the while choosing to ignore just how fragile existence is. Everythi
ng could change in an eventful second. She was guilty of not appreciating the value of life, which would be confessed to God, if heaven was real. Out of her reflections a phone started to ring.

  She yelped like a dog, yanking it from her pocket. How had she forgotten about it?

  “Hello?” she cleared her throat.

  “Laura?” a voice asked.

  “Yes this is Laura, is that Officer Thompson?” she asked, endowed with a new hope.

  “Yes, one of our men is at the front door and has been knocking for a while now, he can't get in. Where are you? In the panic room?” he asked.

  “Yes, the clown is outside the door; I can't get out. And Toby has passed out as he was stabbed,” Laura looked at him and felt his chest again. Still breathing. Silver linings. But time was of the essence.

  “Oh God, okay, I will tell him to find a way in. If the clown moves get out of there, and close the door behind you to keep Toby safe,” he commanded.

  “Don't I need the code?” Laura asked.

  “Don't worry about it, I can engage the door mechanism remotely.”

  “But what if he dies?” Laura felt tears rushing to her eyes.

  “He won't, not if you keep monitoring that camera, and when he moves, run. Go to the front door, I will have one man waiting at the door, and another trying to get in another way.”

  “How did you know I can see him through the surveillance?” Laura became aware of his knowledge, which she wasn't sure she had shared with him, or maybe she was becoming delirious, paranoia being one of the side effects of pure fear.

  “Dr Anderson, he and I worked closely on the security of the castle, as I warned it would attract burglars who were very gifted and were in it for expensive items, and the owner of such a castle was clearly going to be very wealthy. So I know a lot about the ins of the castle. But I also assumed Toby would get the laptop out and monitor the cameras. He is a very smart kid that one. But it is kind of assumed when trapped in a panic room you will get to the surveillance,” he explained.

  It seemed plausible. But Laura couldn't deny that trust had been dented slightly. Amidst her thoughts her eyes wandered and fell on the monitor, noticing the vacant space in front of the panic room door. The cameras revealed the floor below in the bedrooms and hallways were also clear.

  “He's gone, and I have just checked the floor below quickly, and he is nowhere to be seen,” Laura was actually excited. That she didn't expect. She figured anything was better than being stuck in there, with no chance. At least by running there was a shot of prevailing all this.

  “You have to be one hundred percent sure Laura, are you?” Officer Thompson left no room for compromise in his voice. Implying the grave importance of her observation.

  Laura caroused the cameras again, and each room was vacant. But then each small square started to transform into blackness.

  “Oh no,” Laura whispered, thinking aloud.

  Each square of colour was sent into a black abyss.

  “What is it? What's wrong?” Officer Thompson's volume raised with alarm.

  Just at that moment all the lights went out in the castle, sending the whole interior into darkness. Pitch black consumed Laura and Toby in the panic room. Laura became catatonic, a mental patient whose mind had turned to mush. This was as a result of the unbelievable gust of abhorrence that had occurred within her. She simply sat with the phone pressed against her ear, able to hear the words Officer Thompson was roaring, but unable to respond. Stuck in a parallel world, in a vortex of angst and disorientation. Her eyes wide, mouth agape, and bag of bones motionless. They were nothing more than a machine that only had to have one button switched to close down the entire carcass. Then her father appeared from the dusk. She couldn't distinguish if it was real, or the ability to make objects appear in her mind, or self-consciousness blaring 'snap out of it, come back to reality, and get out of this horrible mess!' Laura was in metaphorical sinking sand, and the more time that passed, the worse it would become. The chaos would duplicate continuously unless she fought, or at the very least ran.

  “Laura! Laura!” Officer Thompson's voice was tuning in, becoming louder, as if a volume knob was being adjusted, his voice coming into focus. The words starting to have specific meanings, not just blurs of noise in her disorientation. They brought forth motivating forces, both physically and mentally.

  “Yes, I am here,” Laura's voice was delicate, as if fresh from a coma, surrounded by threatening blackness.

  “What happened? I can't see any room in the castle any more? I had been watching the panic room's camera keeping an eye on you two between trying to get you help. Albeit the camera isn't the clearest in that room. But now everything is black,” he blared.

  Did he tell me he could see me? Laura feared that she was losing her mind, fear demolishing what little sanity remained.

  “All the lights have gone out,” she muttered, sounding defeated and about ready to admit defeat.

  “Oh Jesus!” he panted.

  He couldn't hide his own panic, as much as he no doubt tried; he was fighting a losing battle. His tone unable to insinuate a good outcome, or show a crumb of positivity. But then his tone changed dramatically.

  “Laura, you still there?” he asked, more upbeat this time.

  “Yes, what's wrong?” besides everything.

  “Dr Anderson installed a heat detection system on the cameras so at night he could see intruders.”

  She should be happy about this and leap for joy. But this still meant leaving the panic room and traipsing around a spooky castle in complete darkness with a homicidal maniac on the loose.

  “So if you leave that room, go down to the front door and meet the officer, and let him in. I can guide you, and tell you where to go depending on the clown's whereabouts based on body heat,” he was optimistic.

  “Yes, okay,” Laura was reaching the point where she would do anything to get out of the room now. Even if that meant dying at the hands of a crazed killer.

  The walls were slowly closing in on her, oxygen supply dwindling. Which was bizarre as there were only two of them in a reasonably large room. Claustrophobia was making her delirious.

  “Laura?”

  “Yes?” she couldn't deny it was beginning to annoy her, him constantly saying her name. Was he just trying to keep her lucid, patronise her, or just liked saying her name, creating a personal bond between the two to endow hope? Either way she had bigger fish to fry.

  “He's gone, the clown isn't in front of the door any more, he is on the first floor in the computer room, now is your chance to get out and carefully go downstairs.”

  Laura began to stand, a warm serenity taking hold as if being guided by a helpful spirit. It was times like this she felt the presence of her great grandparents and questioned if it was in fact them supporting her.

  “Okay, you sure?” Laura questioned.

  “Yes, but hurry, and be quiet!” he said firmly.

  Before Toby passed out, in the midst of their conversation, she remembered him telling her the code. Her bare feet slapped the cold metal as she trudged to the code box, her hairs standing on end. But as she got to the door, the lock disengaged and it began to open. Officer Thompson. A light broke in from the window of the stairwell. The moon shone down, gracing Laura with light. It wasn't enough to see clearly, but enough to walk down the stairs without tripping.

  “Keep me on the phone, and if he moves I will tell you. Okay?”

  “Okay,” she whispered. Everything felt surreal and nightmarish. Laura's worst fear had been realised. Little light, alone, large castle, murderer roaming free. At that moment a numbness came over Laura. If the clown turned up she was beyond fighting, death would receive a welcome invitation born of exhaustion.

  “Okay, he is still in the computer room, move,” he spoke tough, like a sergeant in an army base.

  She was becoming colder, rubbing the backs of her arms to generate heat. So afraid, the only way of coping was to shiver. Laura crept by
dark corners, evil looking shadows and eerie statues. No longer did the art and sculptures impress, they now terrified the young girl. Each clay rendering looked frightening, as if a monster lurking, ready to pounce from the abyss.

  “Oh shit......Laura stop!” he ordered.

  “You need to lock Toby in the panic room, for some reason I can't remotely close it just this second. Go to the pad and I'll tell you the closing code. Hurry,” once again, with a dominating, powerful tone.

  Laura turned, staring into the unnerving, dark panic room. With her back to the stairs she felt vulnerable. The clown could appear behind her at any moment. The nape of her neck tingled. Toby was barely visible with hardly any light reaching him. But Laura could see he was still covered in the many blankets Laura had cocooned him in. But from the black void surrounding the young boy came a bright hand. Red gloved fingers wriggled in mid air, dripping a thick crimson liquid.

  “Oh God....” Laura gulped, legs trembling.

  The dripping digits started stroking Toby's hair. They petted him delicately, smearing red through his hair. Then Laura's eyes travelled from the hand to a face floating in the gloom, grinning profusely, and chuckling quietly. Features blurred into focus. Painted skin, malevolent eyes, yellow teeth. All resting beneath a vibrant wig. The eyes shifted the gaze from Toby, and shot to Laura. Upon noticing the audience, the clown burst out laughing hysterically. “No no no.....” Laura back away, gasping for oxygen. Just when she thought things couldn't get any worse, the clown began to sing a lullaby.

  Laura ripped the air with an eardrum-breaking shriek that took her breath away, chest ablaze. Toby looked so peaceful and innocent, as if sleeping, as the clown continued to pet him, burgundy drooling down his face. Blood! Taunting Laura, eye-balling her, an evil grin controlling his face. He broke from singing and reverted back to laughing hysterically. One that she had never heard before. It was demonic, low pitched, and slightly robotic. Laura thought of scare walks at amusement parks and the giant stone head that usually invites you into the 'walk of doom'. It was a monster's voice. Then he rose in one fluid motion, leaving Laura terror-stricken. Colourful limbs became visible in the murk. Laura fought breathlessness as he advanced towards her. The shoes squeaked on metal, the chuckling ongoing. Laura fell from the fearful oblivion and ran. Still clutching the phone, which Officer Thompson was repeatedly yelling through. But the main priority was to hotfoot it immediately, there was no time to waste. She flew downstairs, bracing against the bannister as legs rolled around like the wheel of a bike. The wood was moist, and segments of the carpet were soggy, squelching with each step. Laura's brain was under extraordinary pressure to make a choice. Keep going down, or turn off into one of the floors. A list was being formed of all the rooms that Dr Anderson described. From that she was making the decision where to hide. Lungs were on fire as time was running out. The front door was pointless. Her vision bounced as she ran, hazy and blurred. It wasn't possible to just scurry to the front door. All those locks would take time to unlatch. And time was the one thing that was lacking.