The Depths of the Hollow (Mercy Falls Mythos Book 2)

by Nathaniel Reed

  

  Just as spry he started the next day with two glasses of orange juice, a glass of milk, eggs, bacon, and buttered toast. Body re-fueled, he went for another run. Benjamin thought he could get used to this. Except that his food bill might go up.

  Amelia now had one less person consuming food

  at her place, and this was good. Although they were supposed to split the grocery bill, she and her boyfriend, more often than not, ended up buying the majority of consumables. She had breakfast at eight p.m. preparing for her 10 o’clock shift. Keeping odd shifts wore the body down, but more so on her days off when she had to prepare herself for the work week and stay in the routine. She wasn’t sure how she’d done it for so long.

  Heading out the door now on her way to work, she put on her helmet and got on her Honda scooter. Normally when they both worked she would drive to the Supra-mart with her boyfriend, in his car. Today she chose to take the scooter even though he wasn’t off. It was her first step toward independence.

  Walking into work she was a bit sad to see Ben wasn’t there. Guess he actually got two days off in a row. But he was a newbie. That wouldn’t last for long. She avoided Dane as much as she could. They still talked but it was mostly perfunctory. Amelia wondered, not for the first time, if she was being too unreasonable and blowing things out of proportion- if she was, in fact, acting just like Dane. But she had work to do. She needed to focus.

  Inventory was a bore but her music kept her going until her break time. Amelia sat alone in the break room, going to her meal an hour before Dane, so she wouldn’t have to find an excuse not to sit with him. He would want to talk, and she didn’t want to talk; at least not yet. As usual the un-loaders (the guys who took the merchandise off the truck), the blacks, and the Spanish people speaking their own dialect, had their particular tables where they huddled together. She never got that. She understood they could probably relate to one another more, but she didn’t exclude anyone. Amelia hated all people equally. Marvin Meeks glanced over as he was talking to Shaneka, nodding and winking at her. She looked away, flustered. She couldn’t wait to go home and sleep.

  

  Not thinking much about it, feeling better than ever, and convinced it had all been in his head, previous musings left Ben’s mind as he went to work on the night of the full moon. When he went outside for a break, he didn’t come back himself.

  Shaneka found Dane in one of the storage rooms, propped up among the mops and brooms, stomach ripped open, intestines dangling like ropey sausage, his formerly freckled face gnawed on, nose and eyes missing; his blood caked red hair and goatee making him immediately recognizable, despite his condition.

  Amelia nearly tripped over someone as she went through the double doors to the back room, skidding and almost falling backward on a puddle of blood.

  “Jesus! Marvin!” He was staring up at her glassy-eyed, his throat torn out, red claw marks running the length of his torso from chest to abdomen.

  They had just come in from a cart run, when all the overnight stock and inventory associates were called outside to bring in all the shopping carts. Thankfully there had been no customers in the store at the time. Of the three that remained behind two were killed. The third, which they found ten minutes later, after the screaming and hysteria died down a bit, was Ben, who lay curled up naked, in the fetal position, on the floor of the dry goods storage bay, smeared in blood.

  CHAPTER THREE

  NEWBORN AND DYING

  “Step on it!” she screamed.

  “Are you kidding me? It’s just a little spider,” Michael said. “I’ll chase it out the door.”

  “Whatever, just get rid of it,” Cassie insisted.

  “You know, as an animal lover you need to appreciate all of God’s creatures,” he teasingly suggested.

  “That’s not an animal, that’s an insect.” She said the last word with an obvious note of disgust.

  Michael opened the kitchen door, which led out to the side of their yard, and shooed the spider along in that direction, with the flat of a newspaper. “Move along little buddy, before the wifey starts tossing shoes at you. Wouldn’t want you to get hurt.”

  “Sure, take the spider’s side,” she pouted.

  “Love you.”

  “Yeah, yeah.”

  “Okay, the destroyer of worlds is gone; happy now?”

  “Yes,” she hugged him, “My hero.”

  He cocked his head back in victory. “I do what I can ma’am.”

  Cassie laughed.

  “Now can we finish dinner?” Michael asked, “I’m starving.”

  “Yes, grumpy pants. Put the macaroni in the water. I think it’s boiling now.”

  As he followed instructions their newborn started to wail.

  “Oh geeze, what now?” Cassie said. “I already fed

  and changed her. Can you go see, Michael? I’ll watch

  dinner.”

  “Sure honey. No worries.”

  “Yeah, not when you sleep like a rock like you do,” she said, light-heartedly, but with evident frustration.

  Finding the right guy and getting married was a blessing, and their first child was even more of one, but in the two weeks since they’d had Alicia the constant crying had her frazzled. Maybe twenty-two was too young to get married and start having children. Maybe she wasn’t ready. But people were having them younger and younger these days, not that she necessarily thought that was a good thing. She wondered if she was one of those mothers who would quickly adapt. She certainly hoped so. Either way dinner was done in twenty minutes, Michael was back, and the baby was sound asleep.

  “What did you do?” she asked, as they sat at the dinner table and ate. “How’d you quiet her down?”

  “Ah, rubbed her belly and sang softly to her. One of the few things that seem to soothe her.”

  “That old trick.”

  “Don’t knock it, it works. She’s quiet isn’t she?”

  “That she is. And now we can eat without reheating,” Cassie smiled.

  “The baby whisperer triumphs again.”

  k

  The Fourth of July was not a major event in Mercy Falls, but the town did have their little outdoor shindig in Mills Avenue Park with a couple of vendors selling hotdogs and American flags, along with a modest fireworks show. Michael and Cassie Williams were there minus baby Alicia. Feeding her just before, and leaving more breast milk in the fridge to heat should Alicia get hungry, they used a fourteen year old sitter that came with good references from neighbors. They planned to only be at the park for two hours, just long enough to see the finale and then book out of there. They figured it would be one of the few times they’d get to be together alone, as they didn’t plan to make a habit of it.

  Music was playing before the show, in the back-ground behind the vendors through intermediate sized speakers set up on speaker stands. Cassie whooped it up when she realized Prince was singing, “Tonight we’re going to party like it’s 1999!” The song was released in ’82, and now that it was actually 1999, it was getting some replay, which was fine. Michael liked it too. It brought back good childhood memories. They would have both been about five then. His mother never let him listen to the raunchier songs, but he could still see his mother dancing in the kitchen to that song, and taking him by the hands, trying to get him to dance along with her. And now he danced with his wife in much the same way, except he didn’t have to reach up.

  They hugged each other and laughed when the song was over.

  “I love you,” Cassie said.

  “Love you too babe.”

  Despite their love for one another, and being glad to share this moment alone, there was only one creature they loved more than each other and themselves, and that was their daughter waiting back home for them. They found themselves as excited thinking about getting back to the house to see her little face as they were of being here now. This made the fireworks more spectacular than they actually were. Life was good.


  k

  Maria Whitley wasn’t easily distracted. Playing Snake on her Nokia while the baby was asleep in the crib upstairs put her at ease. The Williams’ seemed like nice people, and their daughter was adorable. And two hours pay for a fourteen year old was nothing to gripe about. The sound of scratching at the back door, however, was distracting. It sounded like a dog’s paws, and she was fairly sure they didn’t mention any animals in the house. She got up from the sofa to investigate.

  It was definitely coming from the backyard, but the more she listened the less it sounded like animal paws. It sounded as if metal were being raked across the glass on the other side of the door- Screeeee! The white painted wood door was still closed so she couldn’t see what was on the other side where the glass door was. Maria was afraid to open it and see. She considered whether she should call the cops or the Williams’. She thought it could possibly be a loosened gutter or drainpipe that was scraping at the door, but it sounded purposeful, deliberate, and the noise frightened her.

  Alicia still slept calmly upstairs, and for that at least, she was thankful. She put her ear to the door and the sound increased both in pitch and intensity, the scraping stopping for a second before resuming in what seemed to be a different area of the glass, as if shifting directions. Unquestionably frightened now Maria shouted, “Go away whoever you are, or I’m going to call the police, I swear!”

  The baby woke and started crying.

  “Great,” Maria said, backing away and heading toward her cell phone where she’d left it on the sofa.

  THUNK! There was a loud pound at the door as if in answer to her threat. Maria jumped. She ran into the living room, grabbing for the phone. The scraping resumed. “I’m calling right now!” she yelled back.

  THUNK! Again. Another sound arose as she began to press the numbers. Like voices in unison, starting as a moan, going up in octave. Whoever they were they were chanting. More scraping, THUNK, more pounding. THUNK! There was a scary dreamy syncopation between the elements. She’d never thought of the term “blood running cold,” as possible, but a deep chill definitely sifted through her core.

  She punched the buttons.

  “9-1-1, what is your emergency?” said the woman’s voice on the other end.

  “Yes, there’s someone at the door. I think they’re trying to get in.”

  “All right ma’am. Stay calm. What is your name, and where are you calling from?”

  She gave them the information as the volume of the chanting and the pounding rose, as if trying to thwart her attempts at communication.

  Quickly it became nearly impossible to hear what the operator asked of her.

  “Please hurry!” she screamed. Maria disconnected, holding her hands over her ears. The chanting rose to inhuman levels.

  “Stop it! Stop it! Stop it!” she cried out. They broke down the door. Cowled figures emerged from the entryway and strode toward her. Maria ran. She was overpowered, grabbed by the waist from behind, halted in her tracks. She screamed and thrashed and fought against them, but there were too many of them. She opened her eyes wide as she saw the knife. They encircled her arms and legs. One of them pulled her head back by the hair, exposing her throat, and another drew the knife across it, slicing, her blood spraying. Upstairs Alicia wailed. It was the last sound Maria Whitley heard as she dropped to her knees and to the floor.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  CHARLES AND THE DIZZY DIVA

  To Sarah’s surprise they stopped at a house. The Mayor was getting out.

  “You coming?” he said.

  She got out of the car. “Where are we?”

  “We’re going to see a friend of mine.”

  “Vampire?”

  “Of course,” Mayor Tremont said.

  “I thought they all lived in the pit,” Sarah said.

  “No, not all. Just most. Since their ranks were decimated in ’86 a few of them have decided to blend in with the common folk. I can’t exactly trust you to fly me down in to the pit, now can I?”

  Sarah looked at him distrustfully.

  Charles Tremont grinned. “You’ll like him. He’s good people. I mean, for a blood thirsty killer that is.”

  Sarah Strobe waited while he rang the bell. When the Mayor pushed the button Bach’s Toccata and Fugue in D Minor played in chimes rather than organ, which made it sound slightly more sinister.

  “Subtle,” Sarah said.

  “I don’t quite think he gets the meaning of blending. But then again, he is British,” the mayor confided.

  “Fuckin’ O,” Walter said as he opened the door and saw the two of them, “What’s this then?”

  Mayor Tremont put on his best I’ll try not to strangle you smile. “This is Sarah, a new recruit.”

  “Is that right? Ain’t heard nothin’ from the big boss.”

  “That’s because one of the grays made her. She was wandering around my office,” Charles said. He noticed Walter looking distracted, out of it. “Did I interrupt something?”

  “Nah,” Walter shook it off. “Just watchin’ the tele. Was falling asleep to be honest with ya. It’s getting kinda late.”

  “Yes, I know. Shouldn’t you be hunting about now? This is like noon for vampires,” the mayor said.

  “Nah, had my dinner early. Reserves in the fridge,” Walter noted.

  “Ah, I see. Well, you going to invite the lady in or should we stand out here and be conspicuous for a while longer?”

  “Yes, certainly, come in. Although the lady doesn’t need to be invited in by me. I’m no longer exactly human.”

  The mayor nodded. “Always did have trouble keeping the rules straight.” They stepped through the doorway.

  Walter’s “pad” was a tribute to simplicity. The combo kitchen and living room seated a simple tan microfiber couch flanked by two table side lamps on either end, only one of which was in use at the moment. It appeared to have an extremely low watt bulb in it. The backend of the TV faced them, casting a blue glow on the seating area. Further back was the small kitchen, currently lit only by a nightlight, separated from the living room by a half wall that served as a ledge for a house phone and several indistinguishable knick knacks, and what might have been a phone book. The cabinets must have been white because they were the most visible thing beneath the night light’s glow. Other than that the place was like a cave with square walls shadowed in darkness.

  He seemed to sense their discomfort and flicked on the kitchen light. The cabinets were indeed white, and there was a stainless steel fridge set precisely into the wall nook behind and to the left of the dividing wall. The kitchen was bright and shed enough light into the living room to make things comfortable. Walter’s hand hovered over the refrigerator handle.

  “Would you like anything to drink?” he asked them.

  The mayor shook his head.

  “No thank you,” Sarah said.

  “Water, beer... blood?” Walter prodded.

  Sarah felt her stomach gurgle at the mention of blood, but she’d had enough at Tremont’s office. “Thank you, I’m fine.”

  “I wouldn’t go that far, but you ain’t bad looking.”

  She greeted this with a fuck you grin.

  Walter nodded. “Suit yourself.”

  They sat on the couch, the mayor waving his hand toward it for Sarah, not waiting for Walter to offer. It didn’t appear that he was going to. They sat at opposite ends, and Walter came in to sit between them, which made Sarah feel awkward. Walter looked back and forth between them several times, finally settling on the mayor.

  “So, what can I do ya for? Or should I ask her that?” He spun around to wink at Sarah. She greeted this with revulsion. He wasn’t unattractive but he wasn’t her type. She didn’t admire cockiness and he was already coming off as a giant ass. Plus, he was a bloodthirsty killer, literally. So are you, Sarah, she reminded herself, so are you.

  “You know what I’m here for Walter,” Mayor Tremont said impatiently, “I watch your children during the day, yo
u take care of your own at night.”

  “My children,” Walter chuckled, “Very clever Charles, but I would never want to make another one of me. I leave the turning for those who still call the pit home.”

  “Nevertheless, I want you to take Sarah down there with you, and introduce her to the rest of the family.”

  Walter smiled. “You forget who holds the power

  here. I don’t take orders from half-breeds. In fact, you’re

  less than a half breed; you’re like a third breed. You only have power because they continue to feed you their blood. I have no interest in repopulating the species. I’m fine right where I am.”

  “Be that as it may,” the mayor countered, “Wouldn’t your boss be very cross with you if you were to let one of his creatures loose without consulting him?”

  “You know, you see,” Walter pointed an accusatory finger at him, “Right there! Give you a little fuckin’ power and you think you’re a bloody king. And here I am just trying to enjoy my TV show.”

  The mayor looked over at the television which was playing an infomercial. “The Ginsu Knife?”

  “Hey!” Walter exclaimed happily. “It slices, it dices, it makes all other knives obsolete!”

  Charles Tremont eyed him warily.

  “All right! I’ll take the girl, bloody ’ell!”

  “Good, I’m tired of doing all the leg work. And no hanky panky.”

  “Wouldn’t dream of it,” Walter said, surreptitiously winking at Sarah again. She shrank back a little.

  Charles got up. “Okay Sarah. Take care of yourself. You’re in goo... um, capable hands.”

  Sarah looked up at him beseechingly. She hadn’t realized how much she’d enjoyed his company. The mayor was perhaps her last link to the human world, and she needed him to get through this.

  As if reading her mind he added, “If you ever need anything, don’t hesitate to stop by my office.”

  Sarah nodded gratefully. “Thank you.”