The Lords of Salem

by Rob Zombie

  The sound grew louder and louder. Yes, definitely voices. Why would they be hiding in the dark, though?

  She almost didn’t see them until she was right on top of them. They were dressed in black, faded into the darkness, and if they hadn’t been whispering she might have walked right smack dab into them. As it was, her foot scraped and they heard her coming and stopped talking, rapidly turning to face her. Then she saw the white fabric around their faces and the faces themselves. Very hard to see, but from what she could make out in the darkness they looked really old.

  “Oh hey, sisters,” said Heidi. “Sorry. I didn’t see you. Was just looking for a place to warm up from the cold.”

  The two nuns regarded her without saying anything. Just stared.

  “I didn’t mean to disturb you,” she said.

  “You’re not disturbing us,” said the first, in a creaky old voice.

  “No, you’re not disturbing us,” said the other. “We were expecting you.”

  The first elbowed her.

  “Expecting me,” said Heidi. “How could you be?”

  “She doesn’t mean that,” said the first. “We were expecting someone, but not you. How could we be expecting you?”

  “Yes,” said the second, her eyes shining in the dark. “How could we be?”

  “Um,” said Heidi. “I’m warm now. I probably should go.”

  She turned and started back down the pew.

  “Wait,” said the second nun. “What fragrance do you wear?”

  “Fragrance?” said Heidi. “Perfume, you mean? No, I’m not wearing anything.”

  “But you smell so good,” said the second nun. “Almost good enough to eat.”

  “Sister,” said the first nun. “Think before you speak.”

  “Well,” said Heidi quickly, “I should go.”

  She almost ran the rest of the way to the doors of the church and was only really comfortable once she was outside, in the cold again. So much for a good night’s sleep, thought Heidi. Shaking her head, she hurried the rest of the way home.

  Chapter Twenty-seven

  Her fingers were aching by the time she reached her front door. First it was hard to get her keys out and then, once they were out, to make her fingers find the right one and get the door open. She checked for mail, and then headed for the stairs.

  Lacy’s door was wide open, light spilling out into the hallway. The sound of voices and scattered laughter came from inside. She groaned—last thing she wanted tonight was company. She’d have to go past on her way to the stairs. She’d just go quickly and quietly, she told herself, and hopefully not be seen.

  She was halfway past when she risked a glance in. Lacy was there, a glass in her hand, sitting in a high-backed chair that looked almost like a throne. She was rapt, her attention turned to a sharp-nosed woman, with a huge, tangled mass of brightly dyed red hair, around Lacy’s age, sixty or so, who was speaking. On the other side of her was a cute, perky woman with short, choppy blond hair, maybe a little younger. The latter turned and looked straight at her, and smiled.

  Heidi hurried past. She’d put her first foot on the step when she heard Lacy’s voice ring out.

  “Heidi!” she called. “Come meet my sisters.”

  Heidi took a deep breath. Last thing she needed was a landlady who wanted to be her friend, too. She gathered herself and returned to the door. She put on a fake smile, poked her head around the door frame, and waved.

  “This is Megan,” said Lacy, gesturing to the woman with red hair. “And this is Sonny,” she said, gesturing to the blonde. Funny, thought Heidi, they didn’t look like Lacy’s sisters. She couldn’t see much family resemblance. Maybe Lacy was adopted?

  “Hi,” said Heidi. “Nice to meet both of you.”

  “Nice to meet you, too,” said Sonny. “Come on and join the party. We don’t bite.”

  Megan simply nodded and held up her wineglass.

  Lacy smiled. “Please come join us, Heidi,” she said.

  “Oh hey, thanks,” said Heidi. “But tonight’s not so good for me. I got held up at work and I’m not feeling so great, so maybe a rain check.”

  Lacy nodded. “One glass?” she said.

  Well, she had told Herman and Whitey she was going to practice the red wine method, and they definitely had red wine here. But still she resisted. “I really should call it a night and get some sleep,” she said.

  “One itsy-bitsy spider of a glass?” wheedled Lacy.

  What? thought Heidi.

  “She broke out the good stuff for a change,” said Sonny in a stage whisper.

  Heidi gave a tired smile. She was too exhausted to fight. “All right,” she said. “One drink. But first I have to feed Steve.”

  She trudged up the stairs. She shouldn’t have glanced in, should have pleaded exhaustion. Probably if she hadn’t, she would have managed to get by without them calling to her. But now it was too late. She’d have to go talk to them.

  At her apartment, she couldn’t help but glance down at apartment five. For a moment she thought the door was open and did a double take. But no, it wasn’t open after all. It was just the way the shadows fell. She resisted the impulse to go down the hall and check to make sure it was locked.

  She opened the door on darkness, heard Steve whining.

  “I know, buddy,” she said. “I’m late. I’m so sorry. Hold on, give me a second.”

  She flipped the kitchen light on, but when it came on it flickered a little, and kept flickering. Bulb must be going out, she thought. She took off her coat and tossed it into the living room. She dropped her bag.

  Steve was acting odd, whining a little. He greeted her, but not very enthusiastically, but once she filled his bowl with food he began eating right away, wolfing it down and growling as if he expected someone to take it from him.

  “Stop being weird, Steve,” she said, feeling a little hurt. “I wasn’t gone all that much longer than usual.”

  She watched him for a moment. Gradually, his growling seemed to fade away. Maybe she’d forgotten to feed him before she left. She grabbed a bottle of wine off the counter and opened the apartment door, stepped out into the hall.

  “Okay, buddy,” she said. “I promise I’ll be back quick. I’m just going to go have a quick one with the old ladies downstairs.” How do I get myself roped into these things? she was wondering.

  She stood in the doorway watching Steve eat a moment more and then shut the door and went out into the hall. She glanced again at the door to apartment five and again had the impression it was open, but this time stopped herself from turning around to look at it. It would be, she was sure, the same as it had been before: just an illusion. Nobody was in apartment five, she told herself. The door was certainly closed.

  She continued toward the stairs without turning back around, feeling the skin prickling on the back of her neck.

  But the door was open this time. And there, in the door frame, half consumed by shadow, stood a thin figure. As Heidi moved toward the stairs and down them, the figure moved out of the doorway, gliding silently down the hall.

  When it came into the light it revealed itself to be so thin that its bones were showing through its skin, vividly outlined. There was no flesh to the figure. It was hard to believe that it belonged to a living body and not a corpse. There was something wrong with its face, something about the skin—it looked as though it had been torn free, torn loose, and only imperfectly reattached. It hung wrong on the skull, as if ready to slough off at any moment, and the mouth and eyes didn’t seem lined up quite right.

  It seemed drawn forward, step-by-step, moving in time with Heidi’s movement down the stairs. When she stopped and rapped on the door frame of Lacy’s apartment below and said “I’m back,” it pretended to rap on Heidi’s door, mimed her speech.

  “Come on in,” said Lacy downstairs, and the figure bowed low before Heidi’s door. It reached out and tried the handle, found it locked. The flesh on its hand, too, was less like skin
and more like a glove, loose and pulpy, and it left damp stains on the doorknob and the door beside it.

  The figure gave a strange lopsided smile. It put both hands up against the surface of the door and then pushed. For a moment the door tightened in its frame, the wood creaking, and then, suddenly, its hands slipped through the surface of the door. It thrust itself forward and the arms slid through the wood as well until its face rested against it. It pushed its face against the wood and the skin of the face stretched strangely and sloughed to the side, laying bare for one moment a raw and fleshless expanse of pinkish skull. And then with a wet squishing sound the face thrust through the door and disappeared to the other side. Neck and body followed. Slowly the figure wormed its way through and into Heidi’s apartment.

  When it was done, the door was still one piece. All that was left was a wet stain the size and shape of the figure, and very quickly that began to fade away.

  From inside came the sound of Steve whining. And then of him scratching at the door, trying to get out.

  Just as always, one drink had become two, which had become three and then four. Those old ladies sure can slam it back, thought Heidi, feeling a little buzzed. She’d made short work of a plate of cheese and crackers as well, but maybe should have had another plateful, enough to soak up all the wine in her belly.

  Sonny was there beside her with an inquiring look on her face, holding up the bottle, ready to pour. What the hell? thought Heidi. One more won’t kill me. She held out her glass and Sonny filled it, emptying the bottle.

  “And that ought to do it,” said Lacy. “Another dead soldier.” She reached out and took the bottle from Sonny and saluted it. “Sir, you served your country well.”

  “Thanks,” said Heidi. She took a sip. So far the evening had been the old ladies quizzing her down on everything under the sun, from boyfriends to her job at the radio to her Christmas plans. She’d answer a question and then be barraged by two more. But, she realized, Lacy’s sisters had said almost nothing about themselves. And Megan had said almost nothing at all.

  She turned to Megan. “So what do you gals do?” she asked.

  But it was Sonny who answered. “Well,” she said. “I’m what you might call a self-help guru. I guide people who are lost in the art of finding oneself.”

  “I think I could use a little of that,” Heidi said. That wasn’t exactly true. She’d mostly been doing okay lately, but the last few days had been rough for some reason. She hoped it’d get better soon.

  Sonny reached out and patted her hand. “Everyone can, dear…,” she said. “And Megan here… Well…”

  “I read, darling,” said Megan. Her voice was sharp and powerful, deeper than you would think it would be from looking at her.

  “Read?” said Heidi. “I’m sorry, I’m not sure what you mean exactly. Read books? And you get paid for it?”

  But Megan didn’t answer, just kept looking at Heidi with a steady, steady gaze. Did I say something wrong? wondered Heidi.

  There was an awkward silence, which Lacy finally broke.

  “Megan is quite the palm reader,” she said.

  “Oh,” said Heidi. She didn’t know what else to add.

  “Most readings are surface-level observations,” said Sonny. “But Megan here… she sees very deep into the world beyond.” As she said it, she moved her hands back and forth as if pretending to cast a spell. Heidi shot a quick glance Megan’s way to see if she minded her sister teasing her, but her face remained as placid as ever.

  “She’s very good at it,” said Lacy.

  “Really?” said Heidi. “I’ve never had my palm read before. I always figured it was a scam.” She turned to Megan. “No offense,” she said.

  “Actually, my dear,” said Megan. “I do take offense. Great offense. But not at you. At all those who demean the true gift with their false substitutes. Plastic gypsies with crystal balls and neon signs have destroyed the value of my true gift.”

  At the mention of neon signs, a memory flashed up in Heidi’s mind, a flickering red neon sign that read Jesus Saves. Where was that from? she wondered. Where had she seen it?

  “Give her your hand,” said Lacy.

  “What?” said Heidi. “It’s late, maybe another time. I’ve got to—”

  “Heidi, give her your hand,” said Lacy, a little more insistently. “Come on, it’ll be fun.” When Heidi still hesitated, Megan reached out and took it.

  “Um, okay,” said Heidi.

  “The hand and the brain are one,” said Megan. “The hand is controlled by over three hundred muscles, tendons, nerves, bones, and arteries. One-quarter of the motor cortex in the human brain is devoted to the hand. Did you know that, darling?”

  What, now I’m getting a science lesson from a palm reader? “No,” Heidi said. “I can honestly say I did not know that.”

  She watched her hand resting in Megan’s bonier, older hands. Megan turned her hand palm up and spread the fingers. With one hand she held Heidi’s hand in place. With the other, she began to run her fingers gently over the lines of Heidi’s palm, up and back, up and back. It was a little weird, slightly sexual, and reminded her of the way Lacy had held her hand so long the first time they’d met. The light touch made her skin tingle and seem to come alive. All the women were leaning in now, peering at Heidi’s palm.

  “The lines are formed at a subatomic and cellular level,” said Megan. “These are the lines of your life.”

  “I thought these lines were just from the stress of my life,” quipped Heidi.

  Beside her Sonny pointed to her forehead. “No, these are stress lines,” she said, and smiled.

  “Please, sister,” said Megan, and Sonny fell silent. Megan’s fingers continued running over Heidi’s palm, up and back, up and back. “No, no, these are formed in the womb and continue to control the thoughts,” said Megan. “Give me your right hand. The right hand is the future.”

  Heidi drained the glass of wine in her other hand and set the glass down on a rickety old wooden end table. She held out her right hand and Megan released the left and took it. She took her hand and ran her finger up the center of the palm.

  “Is that the life line?” asked Heidi.

  “No,” said Megan. “This is the fate line. This is the only line of concern to me. The length of your life is inconsequential. It is what you do with your time here that matters.”

  She saw Lacy and Megan exchange a strange look. What was going on? Were these women messing with her somehow?

  “Oh, okay, so tell me then, what is my destiny?” she asked. And then she turned it into a joke. “Please don’t tell me that I’m going to meet a tall dark stranger? I’ve had more than enough of those lately.”

  But the sisters didn’t laugh. “It reads your fate, Adelheid,” said Sonny. “Not your destiny.”

  How does she know my full name? wondered Heidi. “Is there a difference?” she asked.

  “Yes,” said Lacy, quite serious now. “A crucial difference.”

  Heidi was tempted to pull her hand away, but she felt Megan’s grip tighten on her wrist. “With destiny you participate in the outcome, but fate… ah, fate leaves you no choice. It is predetermined by outside forces greater than ourselves.”

  No, thought Heidi. What the hell had been going on the last few days? She couldn’t even walk into her own house without someone trying to freak her the fuck out. It was like the whole world was conspiring against her. “Oh, I don’t think I like that,” she said. “I’ve changed my mind. I don’t want to know. I’ll keep my fate a mystery. A mystery to me, anyway.”

  She tried to pull her hand away, but Megan held on. Freaky old bitch, thought Heidi. Megan was staring at her, trying to look deep into her eyes. She turned away and saw that Sonny was staring hard at her as well. So, on the other side, was Lacy.

  “You must make peace with your subconscious desires,” said Megan in a slow, deep voice.

  She pulled at her hand again, but Megan wouldn’t let go. She was sta
rting to feel trapped. If she didn’t get out of there soon, she was likely to start yelling. Or screaming even.

  She pulled again. “What desires?” she asked, hoping just to get it over with.

  “The wicked thoughts burning inside your head and exploding in the juices between your legs,” said Megan, her voice perfectly controlled. “The darkness inside your very soul, Adelheid. The only reason you exist.”

  What the fuck? thought Heidi. Megan suddenly slackened her grip and Heidi pulled free, more than a little stunned by Megan’s words. She started to stand, nearly tipping the chair over, knocking the end table askew so that Sonny had to dart forward to keep her wineglass from falling.

  “Um, maybe I’ll make peace with those desires later,” she said, already backing to the door. “Right now, I better get going.” She turned to Lacy. “I really should go back upstairs. I have to get some sleep.”

  “Pleasant dreams,” said Megan.

  Fuck you, too, thought Heidi.

  Lacy followed her out. “Sweets,” she said. “I’m sorry if Megan upset you. She is a little… adamant about things sometimes. And she can be a little intense.”

  “And a little wasted,” shouted Sonny from within the room, humorous again. Whatever had been off about the mood of the room had broken now. Had she just imagined it? Or had something shifted there? Had something odd happened?

  “It’s nothing to worry about,” said Lacy. “Don’t pay any attention to what Megan says if it bothers you.”

  Heidi pressed her hand to her forehead. “No, no, I’m fine,” she said. “I just need to get a decent night’s sleep. Haven’t had one in a few days for some reason, and I’ve got a couple of crazy days ahead of me.”

  “Yes,” said Lacy. “I’m sure you do.” Her tone was a little odd, too, thought Heidi, but maybe it was just a result of the drinking, or of Heidi herself being a little rattled. Lacy’s expression was polite but otherwise unreadable. “Good night, then.”