Karen spotted a child in the tree line. She drew near to her.
“What’s wrong, honey?” Karen said as she knelt and placed her hand around the small child’s arms.
The child was gently sobbing. “My Daddy is trying to hurt me. He said I did a bad thing...”
Karen looked around. She squinted into the darkness, positive she would see something she didn't want to.
“Come on, let’s get you somewhere safe!” Karen said, taking the girl’s hand.
Karen led the little girl out of Blackwater’s central hub and onto Main Street itself. Above them, suspended from the traffic lights, the bodies of a dozen children swung. Karen gently pressed the girl’s face into her body, shielding her from the horror.
Turning right out of Landry Isle and continuing down the main strip of Blackwater, a tinkling tune faded in. It was a melody every child would naturally run towards, money held aloft, screaming “Ice cream!”
This sound however was not inviting. It was a warped, atonal song. The truck turned a corner and appeared in front of them. The side of the truck, which would have usually born some cartoon character holding an ice-cream, now showed a vicious, blood-thirsty character consuming the entrails of severed kids; their broken bodies strewn around the polluted image.
Karen’s tears rolled silently down her trembling face.
The repulsive, chortling man had reappeared. Clark and his distorted face were behind the wheel of the ice cream truck. He slowed as he drew level with Karen and the child.
Karen pushed the child’s face into her body as the leering ghoul stared out at her. The face had changed. It was James.
He let out a blood-curdling howl and laughed. The truck then sped off with its screeching tires leaving the stench of burnt rubber behind.
Karen finally let out a sob. She blubbered and clung to the small girl.
When Karen had controlled her weeping, she said to the little girl, “Let’s find someone who can help us...”
Up ahead, the Blackwater Police Station loomed. It was not unlike the library with its classical architecture. The outside had been altered slightly; preserving the town’s original architectural vernacular was obviously not a priority.
Karen jiggled the girl’s shoulders gently.
“We should be safe here!”
When the two women opened the doors however, they were greeted by the face again; the terrifying sneering version of James.
Every single officer had the visage of the monster.
“Hello, ladies! How may we be of service this evening?” The seven officers said in unison.
Karen shrieked and gathered the child up in her arms and sprinted out of the doors again.
“Come back soon!” the voices echoed and then the terrible cackling started again; the sound traveling far after the two fleeing girls.
Karen raced back towards the house. Faces appeared in doorways; every one of Clark’s manifestations morphed into Karen’s husband. Karen bawled at them.
At the bridge, across the greenery and flowing Otter Creek, the Blackwater Cemetery gleamed in the moonlight. Karen had enjoyed the peaceful sight on her walks and drives in and out of the town. Now, however, the ground was disturbed and hands were pushing their way out of the dirt. Decomposing faces sniggered up at her. Clark and James were rising from every single grave.
Their pace quickened but as the house rose into view, the red glow that Karen had thought daylight was in fact the burning Blackwater House.
Karen looked down at the child and the blank face stared up at her, repeating, “Me for a web!”
Karen dropped to her knees. “What does that mean?!”
The girl continued to repeat, “Me for a web!”
Karen shook her. The child’s mantra did not change. The toneless repetition echoed in Karen’s head as she awoke, sweat running down her back. Salted beads stung her eyes. She turned to the window. Early dawn was breaking through the tree line.
67
Karen had been so sure that the horror would end. She had found what Emma wanted her to find. She had found the body buried in the walls of Blackwater. The spirit was appeased. It meant the nightmare was over!
Why had the terrible events, not just continued, but escalated?
She would call Alison Dubois again. She desperately needed her help.
Karen woke the children and went downstairs to make their breakfast.
When she reached the bottom of the stairs, she saw that there were still splinters of wood scattered across the floor, especially next to the basement door.
Karen quickly brushed these up. The fewer questions from the children this morning the better. They had witnessed more than enough frightening things without finding out about the body in the basement wall.
Karen hurried back into the kitchen and disposed of the shards in the waste bin.
She busied herself making cereal and toast before her two children appeared looking for their breakfast.
Sophie skipped into the kitchen. She had a huge and beautiful smile on her face.
She is an angel.
Marcus was bleary-eyed. He rubbed at them as he followed his sister.
“Morning, Mom,” the two children chimed together, Marcus a little less enthusiastic than his sister.
“Good morning, my beautiful babies!” Karen rushed to kiss each of them on the forehead. Sophie was delighted, but the early morning assault disgusted Marcus.
He rubbed his forehead furiously.
Sophie hopped onto her seat and began to furiously shovel Cap’n Crunch into her tiny mouth, her head pushed right into the bowl.
“Slow down! You’re gonna choke!” Karen scolded, but she was smiling.
“But Mommy! I'm soooo hungry!” She sang through mouthfuls, mashed cereal and milk spraying from her mouth.
“Sophie? What did I say about talking with our mouths full?” Karen said.
“Sorry…” Her tiny voice replied, but there was a smile on her face. Karen returned it.
Marcus had assumed his place at the kitchen table. He ate in silence.
Karen eyed him carefully and said, “I'm going to go into town to ask Judd or Eli if anyone can come have a look at the TV...”
Karen sipped her coffee and watched Marcus for his reaction. The boy did not look at her. He nodded without looking up from his cereal.
Karen remembered the conversation she had with Marcus the previous evening and knew her son was humoring her.
“Sure thing, Mom.” He said finally. He looked at Karen with intelligent eyes.
Karen peeked at her watch and noted the time.
“Better finish up. It’s nearly time to go!” She said.
“I'm all done, Mommy!” Sophie yelled enthusiastically.
“Good girl!” Karen cried. “Now, go clean your toothies!”
Karen grinned at her daughter. The little girl returned it, milk dripping from her tiny chin.
Marcus took another two large spoonfuls of his cereal and pushed his chair out from the table. His mouth bulged with an amalgamation of corn, oats and dairy.
He mumbled, “Thanks,” as he exited the kitchen door.
Karen chewed her lower lip. Marcus worried her sometimes; he seemed to handle the move so well, and then the strange happenings only tested the boy further. Marcus’ reluctance to show any emotion or worry over what was actually very frightening events, did not seem normal.
The sooner she could get Alison Dubois back in Blackwater the better, Karen thought.
The children appeared at the door momentarily, their packs strung across their backs; Sophie’s over both shoulders, whilst Marcus preferred the ‘cool’ single strap option.
“Let’s go,” Karen said as she led the children out the front door.
As Karen edged the Fairlane along Otter Creek Elementary’s long driveway, she noticed heads turn towards them.
At first, these stares did not attract her attention much; they had been the talk of the town when they first a
rrived and Karen was used to the gossip. However, as the staring faces pointed, Karen noted the agape parents and children.
Karen waved and smiled, hoping to embarrass a few gawkers into minding their business. This did not work. When she greeted the revelers, the faces turned to each other, quickly muttered and returned their attention to the Ford again.
Screw them, Karen thought. She knew what the talk was about; they had passed the story of the body in the basement wall around town, and God knows Chinese Whispers had warped the scandalous gossip.
When Karen pulled up in the turning circle, she was reticent to drop the locks on the doors. She dreaded to think their classmates would pester the kids. Questions about dead bodies in the walls were not the sort of playground chatter children should either field, or answer.
“Have a good day, kids!” Karen called before Marcus closed the door.
A unified call of “’Bye!” returned through the metal frame.
Karen spun the wheel and raced out of the driveway, overtaking a dozen cars waiting. She ignored the car horns behind her. She needed to get out of there.
Before going back to the house and ringing Dubois, Karen needed to buy groceries. Today was not the day to be venturing out onto Main Street Blackwater, but the refrigerator direly needed stocking.
Karen pulled into a space across from Judd’s store. The grocery store was situated on the opposite side of the square. Spaces were sporadic around the square, and looking at the milling locals, Karen regretted parking so far from Bishop’s Groceries.
In and out, Karen. You can do this!
Karen kept her gaze straight ahead. She saw the stares out of the corner of her eye and quickened her pace.
Inside the air-conditioned safety of Bishop’s, she breathed a sigh of relief. Karen looked around. The store was relatively quiet; two or three customers strolled around the store whilst the one teenage employee mooched about, leaning over the checkout counter and picking at a spot on his chin.
Karen took a basket and proceeded along the aisles. She was more relaxed now, but still worked at a fast pace. She flicked items off the shelves into the basket: deodorant, shampoo, tampons, toothpaste.
Karen opened the fridge and lifted a gallon of milk and orange juice, arranging them in the basket. She was slowing down more, taking her time, and feeling less anxious.
Karen turned and came face to face with a woman. She was positioned right behind Karen and did not react when Karen almost bumped into her.
“Oh, I'm sorry,” Karen said. It was an automatic reaction, and he hated herself for it. She stared back at the woman.
The staring woman made no attempt to move out of Karen’s way. “Did you want to talk to me?” Karen asked. Her voice carried an attitude.
“No...” The woman replied after a pause.
“Excuse me, then,” Karen said and pushed her way past the woman who still followed her with a stupefied expression.
Karen hurried to the checkout. The teenager was still picking at his face and he had obviously excavated an impressive blackhead which he was examining raptly when Karen reached him.
She looked over her shoulder as she set the basket in front of the boy.
“Hello!” She said, trying a smile.
The teenager looked up from his quarry and his eyes widened.
“Uhhh...” He stuttered. “Hi...”
Karen’s stomach dropped.
He knows too.
The clerk did not move to scan the items for purchase; he stared at Karen in dumb wonder.
“Are you going to put those through?” She asked, nodding at her still full basket.
The teenager blinked, looked at the basket, and then back at Karen.
He blinked once more and then realized his vocation awaited.
“Sure...sorry...” He muttered, but he still looked under his brow at her as he input the prices into the register.
Karen glanced around again and noticed that the rude woman was standing at the end of the aisle nearest the till. She was speaking with one of the other customers who had been ambling around the store. The two women were talking in hushed tones and they looked troubled.
Karen turned uncomfortably back to the teenage clerk. He grinned sheepishly and asked, “Is it true they found some chick in your basement?” His eyes were wide with anticipation, a sick fascination plastered upon his face.
Karen barely contained her anger. “How did you find out about that?” She assumed the detectives had let it slip to their wives and they had in turn gossiped to half the town. That half was nice enough to inform the other fifty percent.
The teenager leaned over the counter and whispered excitedly. “It’s all anyone can talk about!”
“Well, I don't think an innocent, lonely girl being killed and buried in a wall is something to get turned on about!” Karen scooped up the paper bag of groceries and stormed out of the store. She turned to use her bottom as a ram against the door, and noticed the two women move towards the clerk to continue their gossip as a threesome.
68
“I told you that you lived in Murder House, Mark!” a voice called from behind Marcus and Sophie.
Marcus turned and saw Benji, a classmate who had been one of the few boys to befriend Marcus during his first weeks in Blackwater.
“What?” Marcus laughed, but he felt a wave of heat pass over him and the small of his back began to sweat.
“The body found in your---” Benji tried to repeat, but Marcus interrupted him.
“Stop screwing around, Benji. I'm with my sis.”
Benji looked at the young pig-tailed girl and nodded.
“I’ll see ya later, Soph,” Marcus said and gave her a quick hug, making sure to not attract attention.
“Bye-bye, Marky!” She cooed and skipped off toward the elementary school.
Marcus watched her go before turning back to Benji.
“What the hell, man?! Are you trying to give her nightmares?!”
Benji cowered slightly and held up his hands. “Sorry, Mark. I thought she might know...”
“Know what?”
Benji looked around them.
“The body...in your basement?” He said hesitantly.
Marcus cursed his mother. He had made her promise she would tell him everything that was going on. That arrangement seemed more important than ever at this moment.
“I don't know anything about it.” Marcus said, trying to sound confident.
“When you left my house last night...? Everyone’s talking about it!” Benji enthused.
“Everyone...?” Marcus closed his eyes and sighed. He dreaded the impending day.
“Come on, let’s go,” Marcus began walking for the Junior High entrance.
Benji jogged after him.
Like their parents before them, the children Marcus passed, turned their heads in wonder. Marcus kept his eyes on the ground and ignored them.
“Your family are gonna die, Dawson!”
Marcus paused with his hand on the handle of the school’s door.
Bile rose in his throat.
Billy Mason.
An overweight teen pushed his way across the playground. He sent small adolescents sprawling on the ground, but did not notice; his focus was Marcus. His right eye was blue-black and his upper lip puffed impressively.
Marcus turned, keeping his hand on the door’s handle. “Billy...”
“Quiet, shitbird!” Billy shouted in Marcus’ face. He grabbed Marcus’ shirt with both hands and yanked Marcus towards him.
Marcus’ hand came free from the door.
“Remember what happened the last time we had this conversation, Billy?” Marcus was intimidated by the larger boy, but he also had proven himself when he kicked the crap out of the bully. There was a twinkle in his eye.
“Why did you move here? No one wants you!” Billy shook Marcus as he spoke; his tough guy mask was slipping. His voice was becoming a whine.
“I---”
“Did I
say you could talk, shitbird?” Billy Mason said in an infantile scream.
Marcus did not attempt to reply. He knew it was both useless and foolish.
“Blackwater House is cursed! And you and your dumb family are gonna die!” Billy continued.
“Billy Mason, what do you think you are doing? Let go of that boy!” Ms. Cartwright screeched from a window to the left. She was a severe woman with dirty blonde hair pulled violently back into a tight bun. Cartwright was in her classroom and leaned out to tell the two boys off for making noise.
Billy slowly turned his head to look at the woman. He did not let go of Marcus. He studied the teacher for a second before returning his attention to Marcus. Billy suddenly let go of his grip and Marcus dropped back onto his feet, staggering a little as he did so.
Billy dusted off the front of Marcus’ shirt. “I’ll catch you later, shitbird...” He said in a more level tone. He walked back in the direction he came from, still ignoring Ms. Cartwright’s incredulous stare.
Marcus stood stone still and silent. He knew the day was far from over and the abuse was just beginning.
Shit.
Benji scurried towards Marcus before he could finally open the door. Benji’s face was ashen and his eyes bulging.
“Holy shit, Mark! Are you okay?” Benji whispered.
“Sure,” Marcus said. He opened the door and walked inside.
Class was painful. Even Marcus’ teacher, Mrs. Pakenham, treated him abnormally. Marcus felt like a sliver of glass being handled delicately.
When Marcus raised his hand to answer a question, Pakenham’s voice softened and grew light as if speaking to an easily frightened child.
There was giggling from the rest of the class in response.
Marcus bit his tongue to stop himself from reacting. He tasted copper.
Marcus expected more jibes from the other children when they were left alone, but they continued to gossip amongst themselves, albeit, at Marcus’ expense.
Benji followed Marcus all day, desperate to ask about the dead girl in the basement wall but afraid of Marcus’ barbed tongue.
Eventually Marcus acknowledged Benji and asked him what everyone was talking about.
Blackwater Page 20
