by C. T. Phipps
There was something about this place that made me uncomfortable. It wasn’t just the creepy atmosphere. It took a lot more than a natural cave formation to make me uncomfortable. There was something supernatural afoot and as we approached the compound, I felt it grow stronger. One thing was for certain, this wasn’t an “escape tunnel” and I didn’t know if Cassie was deliberately lying to us or just paraphrasing.
“I can see the appeal of this place. Lots of places to store the bodies,” Carrie replied, closing her eyes and reaching out with one hand into the air. “I can feel hundreds of them down here. So, ironically, the truth is stranger than fiction. It is the dumping ground for an evil cult of women-hating psychopaths.”
I reached out with my powers, wondering if I could sense the victims of violence as well as the perpetrators. Indeed, I found there was a lot of bodies at the bottom of the lake. Things ravaged and fed on by something else.
“536,” I replied.
“Excuse me?” Nancy asked.
Cassie just chuckled.
“536 bodies,” I said. “That’s how many they’ve dumped here. All murdered by violence over the course of the last ten years.”
“Jesus,” Nancy said.
“I’m sorry, but you need to change that. That’s too close to an actual swear,” Carrie said. “Have you considered saying Jeebus instead? Or holy pogo sticks?”
“I’m not a five-year-old,” Nancy said.
“I beg to differ,” Carrie said. “Also, you swore in my brain, so we’re going to have to work on you recovering your sweet innocent good girl act.”
Nancy gave her a hand signal.
“See, that’s what I’m talking about, you’re ruining your brand,” Carrie said. “How are we going to get a movie made of you if you’re not needlessly stereotypical?”
“I don’t think anyone is going to be making a movie out of me,” Nancy said. “Besides, Hollywood is apparently run by a bunch of Satanists.”
“Well, we knew that,” I said.
“Just a few,” Cassie said, cheerfully. She started walking across the land bridge dividing the lake. Lakes? I wasn’t sure whether it was technically one or two. “Besides, when I’m owner of Pantheon Corp, I’ll be able to make movies about whoever I want. You could find yourselves big stars.”
“I have no interest in being a star,” I said, dryly. “I am a fugitive.”
“Money can fix all problems,” Cassie said, gesturing. “Look at this place. No one cares as long as the proper bribes are paid.”
“You don’t have to sound so proud of it,” Nancy said, disgusted.
“It is what it is,” Cassie said. “Besides, think of how much power you could get as a slasher with your own franchise.”
“And the sacrifices,” I pointed out. That was what this place was, really. It was a slaughterhouse that provided endless numbers of lives to the Red Gods. It was pathetic in a way, as they were grasping at every little bit of power they could while actually getting less and less.
Perhaps, the Spirit of the Hunt said. Perhaps they are simply getting less and less from their masters. Perhaps the Red Gods have grown fat and lazy on the fast food diet of mortal cinema and industrialized cruelty. Perhaps one of their number wishes to shake things up and see what sort of gods might replace them if they should die.
Can gods die? I asked her.
Yes, if you kill them, the Spirit of the Hunt said.
“You’re freaking me out here, Cassie,” Nancy said as we reached the halfway point across the land bridge. “You can’t really want to be involved in any of this after the bad guys, for lack of a better term, are killed.”
“Yes, bad guys is the wrong term for them,” Carrie replied. “We’re bad guys. They’re evil guys.”
“Why shouldn’t I?” Cassie asked, ignoring my sister. “They tried to force me to marry a man I didn’t love. They brainwashed me. I won’t even begin to discuss the abuses I suffered growing up in that sick household—”
“You sure?” Carrie interrupted. “We could share stories. I recall being traded by my dad for a pack of cigarettes to the creepy guy at the supermarket. William ended up beating the guy to death.”
“He didn’t die,” I replied.
“Unconscious people don’t usually wake up. Maybe like half the time,” Carrie said.
“Yes, I suppose that does make Batman’s no killing rule laughable,” I muttered, realizing the number of people I’d killed was perhaps higher than my Mark of Cain said.
“You’re really going to have to introduce me to this Batman guy. A slasher who doesn’t kill is a weird bird, or mammal as the case may be,” Carrie said. “Still, it was an inspirational moment for me.”
Cassie frowned, looking upset that we’d distracted from her speech. “What I’m saying is that I deserve every dime that my father and uncle possess. Their deaths are not nearly enough compensation. Their empire is mine by right.”
“That’s a little supervillain-esque,” Nancy said. “What the hell was that?”
“Is it the Watcher in the Water?” Carrie asked.
“This is not the Mines of Moria!” I snapped, looking to the glowing lake, only to see a long hideous tendril slither through the water. “Okay, maybe it is.”
“It’s a shoggoth,” a voice spoke nearby, familiar but slightly echoing as if it was coming from a phone with a bad reception.
“A shoggoth?” I asked, turning my head. They were creatures I’d heard of in fiction but hadn’t been aware were real until now. That was less important than finding out who had found us, though.
To my surprise, standing at the other end of the land bridge was the figure of Marge from The Last Stop Diner. She resembled her normal self but, notably, had a shotgun blast injury that had taken away half of her head. There was also the fact that she was translucent, which told me that she was now a ghost. I know, what a brilliant deduction.
“Well, I guess we won’t be going back for seconds,” Carrie said, looking at me. “It’s a shame, Cujo really liked the sausages.”
“Those weren’t sausages,” I said, looking back.
“What were they if they weren’t?” Carrie said, before blinking. “They were that body part, huh? Waste not want not, I guess.”
I grimaced, speaking for all the men in the world.
“What are you looking at?” Cassie asked, confused.
“A ghost,” Carrie replied. “You don’t have very heightened mystical senses, do you, Cassius? See, that’s a pun on the famous Roman traitor and your name.”
“It doesn’t work if you have to explain the joke,” Cassie replied.
Carrie glared. “You’d be on fire now if I had pyrokinesis.”
“Pyrokinesis is bad Latin,” Cassie said. “Stephen King screwed up his Latin.”
“You take that back!” Carrie said, horrified. “I am ashamed to have my name sound like yours!”
“Normally, when I show up, I am the center of attention,” Marge said, advancing on us. She pulled out a long chef’s knife and glared at us. “You children ruined me and are going to pay the penalty.”
Nancy took a step in front of me, holding her machete tight. “Don’t worry, William, I’ll protect you.”
I placed my hand on her shoulder. “If it’s alright, I’d like to talk here rather than fight.”
“What?” Marge asked.
“What?” Nancy echoed.
“Are you serious?” Carrie asked, appalled.
“What kind of slasher are you?” Cassie said, showing that I had the support of absolutely no one here.
“Your confidence fills me with a warm sense of joy,” I replied, dryly. “Marge, I have no idea what you’re talking about. I am sorry about what happened at your establishment but we’re here to kill the Fraternity.”
Marge snorted then burst out laughing. “Oh Lord Below, you’re serious. You came here to try to take on the Fraternity of Orion? Oh, man, I was going to chop you all up and possess one of you, but what I’d
do is child’s play to what they’re planning here. Do you know who, exactly, you’re messing with?”
“No, we do not,” I said, speaking for everyone else. “What happened to you?”
Marge growled. “Those damned Fraternity townies burned my diner down, my brother’s mechanic shop, and my slaughtering shed! With me in it! It’s just rude, son! I think they were looking for your Nancy girl there too.”
“Yeah, that is my name,” Nancy said, looking ready and willing to take Marge on. Taking down my father had apparently given her a confidence about sending slasher ghosts off to Hell. Either that or she always had an abundance of confidence in taking on slashers.
“Where’s your father?” Marge asked. “I don’t see his ghost anywhere.”
“He’s indisposed,” I replied.
“In Hell!” Carrie said, dramatically. “Bwhahahaha.”
I glared at her.
“What?” Carrie asked.
Marge frowned. “They’ve been doing all sorts of black magic rituals in town. They’re summoning the Red Gods here, son, and they have a need of a lot of things that are best left hidden. The Necronomicon, a sacrifice of a pure-hearted woman, and a circle of the meanest, most evil souls in the world. It looks like you brought some of the requirements here. I can feel one of them coming from your sister.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I lied, staring at the ghost.
“Now, what’s a shoggoth?” Nancy asked.
“It’s an extradimensional amorphous creature that can assume any shape and survive in any environment,” Carrie said, pulling out the Necronomicon from her backpack and opening it. “Presumably, the Cassidy brothers summoned it in order to serve as a guard or something.”
Cassie stared at the Necronomicon hungrily, her eyes as big as dish plates and as predatory as a wolf’s.
I stared at Carrie, opened my mouth, closed it, then felt my head. “Carrie, why in the world did you bring that here?”
“Uh, duh, why would I leave it back in the car where anyone could find it?” Carrie asked.
A monstrous black tentacle lashed out from the lake and smashed the top of the rocks above the doorway we’d come through, burying it under several tons of rubble. It threatened to bring down the roof on top of us.
Nancy, Carrie, and I all looked at Cassie simultaneously.
“What? Surely you don’t think I had anything to do with this,” Cassie said.
“You lead them down here to betray them,” Marge said, waving her knife. “Funny thing about being someone who knows the gluttony of people, I can see it when they’re envious little trollops.”
“Don’t shame trollops,” Carrie replied, sniffing the air. “Some of us are proud of it.”
Cassie growled.
Nancy frowned and grabbed her by the arm before forcing it behind her back. “Don’t move a muscle, Cassie. You’re now our prisoner.”
Cassie scoffed. “You’re the idiots who followed me down here. Did you really think walking right into a trap made you less vulnerable? This isn’t a movie.”
“I think I can probably control the shoggoth and send it to eat everyone upstairs,” Carrie said, flipping through the Necronomicon. “I mean, I might have to sacrifice someone to do it, but wherever would I find a human sacrifice here?’
Cassie’s eyes widened.
Marge chuckled. “I was going to kill you all in revenge for what they did to me. However—”
She didn’t get to respond because her spirit exploded into a pile of burning ectoplasm on the floor, a blonde woman in a white tank top and black sweatpants was holding a spear behind her. She was accompanied by a half-dozen lovely young women in camping attire.
She blinked as she surveyed us. “Sis?”
“Summer?” Nancy asked.
Huh.
Chapter Twenty-One
Summer Day Weiss was almost the opposite in appearance of Nancy in many respects. She was blonde and Caucasian in that Valley Girl sort of way that was the stereotype many foreigners had of Americans due to television. Her skin was golden rather than pale and there was a predatory gleam in her eyes that just wasn’t present in Nancy’s. Summer also lacked any signs of Goth leanings.
On closer inspection, though, there were similarities as their facial structure was almost identical. Summer didn’t have any Asian heritage, so I presumed she and Nancy had different fathers but sported what I assumed to be their mother’s strong genes. They were also sported very athletic builds for women, like those of runners or swimmers, that showed they’d grown up in similar environments. I was reminded a bit of Linda Hamilton in Terminator 2, a movie I needed to see the original of now that I was free. Movie night at the asylum was schizophrenic in its choices, as I think I’ve already mentioned.
The spear in her hand was one that looked professionally made of modern materials and I wondered if it was one of the Wild Hunt weapons that they’d taken. Summer had just used it to destroy Marge, which put any rest to the idea she wasn’t an Artemis like her sister. She glowed with the same sort of power that Nancy did, but it was much harsher, more malevolent—at least to my perspective—, and directed squarely at us.
Behind Summer were three black women of varying ages, but similarity in feature enough to say they were sisters. I took those to be the three Heathers. Why three sisters would all be named Heather mystified me, but I wasn’t their father. There was a tall Japanese woman who stood a head taller than the other girls in defiance of stereotype. Finally, there was a small blonde girl that looked directly at Nancy with shock. Even more so than Summer.
“Well, that was an easy rescue,” Carrie said, putting down the Necronomicon and grabbing Cassie in an armlock. “Hi, Summer, nice to meet you. Your sister has told us all about you. I promise, we don’t hold it against you.”
Nancy stared at her sister, wide-eyed and opened mouthed, before giving Carrie a dirty look. I assumed for the smack talk about her sister and not about stealing her prisoner.
“Oh thank God you’re here!” Cassie said, looking at Summer. “Your sister has been brainwashed by these evil slashers. I’ve been trying to rescue you!”
“Brave words, Jefferson Davis,” Carrie said. “Quisling? Ephialtes? Wow, I’m running out of traitors.”
Cassie glared at her.
“Good evening,” I replied to Summer, hoping this would not degenerate into violence.
Summer pointed her spear at me. “I don’t believe you for a second, Cassandra. However, I’m willing to kill these goddamn slashers before I get to killing you. Nancy, what the hell have you gotten yourself into?”
“Apparently, the whole aversion to swearing thing is not a family trait,” Carrie said.
Nancy glared, adjusting her pose to make it even harder for Summer to stab me. “They’re with me, Summer!”
“Are you stupid?” Summer said, growling. “They’re slashers, our natural enemy!”
“They’re here to rescue you!” Nancy snapped. I could tell there was no love lost between the siblings.
“Are they? Are they really?” Summer asked. “Or is this really just an elaborate plan to lure you into a trap so you can be killed.”
“To be fair, only one of us had that idea,” Carrie said, squeezing Cassie’s arm. “Her!”
“Ow!” Cassie said. “Listen, there’s all a very good reason for this.”
I put my fingers into my mouth and whistled. “While not my place to get between two family members hashing it out, I’d like to point out that we’re in the middle of a cursed lake. The exit is blocked off. We’re going to have to find a different way out of here.”
“There is no we, monster,” Summer said, keeping her eyes focused on me. “I know who you are and who you’re the son of.”
“Billy is dead,” I replied. “Permanently. Your sister killed him.”
“You helped!” Nancy said, as if it was something that I needed reassuring about.
“I feel kind of left out here,” Carrie s
aid, looking at Nancy. “I mean, I killed bad people too. Plus, I have this neat hostage!”
“I am not a hostage,” Cassie said, growling. “I am your only way out of here.”
Carrie sniggered.
“Don’t take it the wrong way, Carrie,” Nancy said. “Summer always thinks she’s in charge of whatever situation she’s in.”
Summer stepped forward, raising her spear like a javelin and I had the idea she might hurl it at my head despite the fact her sister was directly in front of me. “That’s because I am in charge. I’ve rescued these people after you stupidly volunteered to get yourself killed. I thought you were dead! Then I see you coming back with these people! Escaped mental patients and the Wicked Bitch of the West!”
“Can we not call her that?” Carrie asked. “It makes my names look weak.”
“You have no idea what’s going on!” Nancy shouted.
“We need to leave!” I said, seeing the shoggoth’s tentacles start moving up on both sides of the lake.
This situation was ridiculous. Summer had managed to get the hostages free, somehow, so we had our chance to escape. There was a monster nearby, though, and antagonizing it was suicidal.
“You shut up!” Summer said.
“Maybe we should trust her,” the small blonde girl beside Summer said.
“You too, Jenna,” Summer snapped, identifying the young woman. That meant the unusually tall Japanese girl was Shinobu. I know, what a brilliant detective mind I have.
That was when an enormous thing emerged from the lake beside us. It was a forest of black inky tentacles that shimmered and surged with extra-dimensional energies. It was difficult to really describe something that didn’t exist according to rational laws of physics. You couldn’t really see what it was so your mind tried to fill in the blanks.
I knew some creatures that were totally invisible to the naked eye because of this and it was like seeing people ripped apart by nothingness. I, unfortunately, could see a bit beyond the spectrum of what was real, and this was a terrifying mass of what should not be. It stared at us with hundreds of sensory organs I will call eyes for lack of a better description and lashed out at the intruders who had disturbed its peace.
