Diane sat up.
“Bring me the three.”
Diane was on her feet in an instant, marching toward the SUV. Jessie ducked into the floor and Abby searched for a last minute escape. She climbed over the armrest into the backseat just as Diane wrenched the back door open.
Abby kicked her in the chest hard enough to make her stumble backward. The door stood open and Abby climbed through. As soon as her feet hit the ground, Diane struck her in the face, spinning her halfway and sending her up against the car. She was laying into Abby’s side when Jessie sat up and lunged at Diane with his switchblade.
He slashed at her stomach, missed, then caught her on the arm with the second swing. Blood poured from her sliced bicep, but Diane continued forward. They struggled until they fell to the ground and the knife slid away from them both.
Dazed, Abby watched them and fought to stay on her feet. Blood from her split lip spilled onto the SUV and smeared when she held it for balance. Her ears were ringing and through the pain, she heard the voice.
It knew they were fighting. It could sense their injuries. It chanted while they died.
“Bleed. Bleed. Bleed.”
Diane wailed when Jessie mounted her, sitting on her chest, slamming her with his fist. Finding her balance, Abby stepped away from the SUV. Jessie must have heard her, or just hoped for the best. He shouted, “Abby, the blade.”
She tried to speak but felt like she might vomit again if she did. She spotted the switchblade by a patch of weeds.
“Bleed. Bleed. Bleed,” the voice whispered.
Abby picked up the knife, glazed red with Diane’s blood. She gripped it in her hand and stumbled toward the fight.
“Bleed. Bleed. Bleed.”
Jessie was still on top and in control. His fists were solid red, as was Diane’s face. Abby could hardly tell Diane’s eyes from her nose.
“Three. Three. Three,” the voice chanted.
Jessie landed one more punch and Diane went limp. He stood up, spat red spittle in the dirt, and turned to Abby. Both of them looked at the pit.
“Can’t we just leave?” Abby said.
Jessie shook his head. “My blood is all over the place. And my prints. We have to get rid of her.”
Abby nodded.
The voice was silent.
Together, they drug Diane’s body to the edge of the pit. Jessie stooped down and lifted her under her arms while Abby looked into the pit. The darkness inside of it seemed to go on for eternity. The air that came up was stale. Stale and warm.
“Do you know what this is?” she asked.
“Do we really want to know?” Jessie replied.
Jessie finally got Diane’s body over the pit, struggling to keep her upright. The amount of blood that was falling into the pit was like rain. The darkness beneath seemed to surge forward to catch each drop.
“Three,” the voice whispered once more. Abby heard it clear as day. Jessie kept moving like he hadn’t heard it.
He dropped Diane into the pit. Just like the man before, she hovered in the pit before she started to sink. She went down slowly, sank to the hip. The edge of her blouse started to turn red.
She went no further.
“You’ve got to be shitting me,” Jessie said. He put a foot on Diane’s shoulder and that was when Abby understood. The pit of darkness swelled beneath Jessie’s foot like deep midnight waters.
Abby raised the blade, the pearly green handle glinting in the headlights.
Jessie leaned forward, trying to put more weight on the body.
She put the blade right between his shoulders.
Jessie screamed and jerked to the right. His foot slipped from Diane’s shoulder and entered the blackness of the pit. With a whisper of wind, Diane began to descend and Jessie, struggling to pull his foot from the void, went with her.
His right foot vanished to the knee, a bright red circle staining the frayed fabric of his jeans. Despite his calf and ankle surely being gone, no blood came out. The pit wouldn’t spare it. His left leg hit the ground, pulling him into a deep split as the pit continued to devour him. He screamed when his hips could stretch no further and with a hollow snap, his left leg went limp.
His eyes grew wild. The darkness rose to his chest.
Diane was gone, her splatter of blood not as spectacular as the first man’s. What hadn’t been absorbed by the pit splattered over Jessie’s face.
He was sideways now, his left leg waving in the air. His back shoulder was gone and Abby watched the knife disappeared in the darkness. After that, he went quick. His left hand and leg were the last to go, sliding smoothly into the blackness of the sand pit. His fingers gave a final grasp at freedom, and Jessie was gone.
The night went on. Abby could hear insects in the distance and the purr of the engine behind her again. The creek sounded like a creek again.
The wind picked up and the mound began to swell. Abby knelt by the pit as the void began to fill with sand. Grains spiraling downward, mesmerizing Abby, drawing her in.
Images danced in her head, images of herself and a tall noble looking man. They were walking the streets of Florence, passing sculptures of Gods and Men alike. Their arms were entwined while they looked into each other’s eyes. He spoke to her, whispering slowly, sweetly in her ear. His voice was the only thing that mattered.
He wasn’t quite ready to return. His body wasn’t ready yet. He needed more strength. He needed more blood. He wanted Abby to help him come back. He needed Abby. He would give her exactly what she wanted, if she just helped him return.
As the sand filled the void and it became just a mound again, she promised to help him. No matter what it took, she wouldn’t rest until Mr. Renaissance returned.
THE END.
LITTLE GIRLS by Daniel Kirk
Lisa stared at her husband. He was absolutely adamant.
“Where is she? Where did she go?”
“Who, what are you talking about?” Lisa could barely make out her husband John’s shape looming over her on her side of their queen size bed.
“The little girl.”
“No one is in here,” Lisa said wondering if her husband’s talking in his sleep had escalated to sleepwalking.
“You’re right,” John said and walked around the bed, climbing back into bed he sounded calm as he added, “…she’s gone now.”
John kissed the side of Lisa’s forehead. His lips were wet and his breath still smelled like minty toothpaste. He was dressed with a pep in his step as he navigated through the kitchen and into the pantry where he snagged a breakfast bar. Just as he had so many times before.
“Do you even remember last night?” Lisa said, flipping the switch on the coffeemaker. Lisa looked like hell. Her eyes were heavy and her shoulders lurched forward as if she could fall over at any moment.
“Did you not sleep well?” John asked.
“No. You kept me up all last night.”
John was surprised. “Really? Well, I do remember that I had some very vivid dreams. I woke up at one point, I remember. I kept thinking our Kimmie had crawled into bed with us, and she was choking.”
“That wasn’t all,” Lisa said before recalling his insistence that a small girl was in the room. “You scared the crap out of me. Acting like someone was in our room. You got up and were searching on my side the bed. Then you just said, ‘You’re right, she’s gone now’ and went right back to bed.”
John laughed. “Did I really? Man, that was some dream. I kind of remember that.”
“It’s not funny. How in the hell was I supposed to go back to sleep after you say shit like that?” Lisa asked.
“Sorry, babe. I’m going to be late for work.”
John rounded the kitchen counter and found their daughter, Kimmie, sitting on the floor playing with building blocks. Though playing was a debatable description. She was only a year and a half, but managed her blocks like a college kid trying to study after a night out at a frat party. She looked exhausted as well.
>
“Bye, bye Kimmie,” John said. He leaned down for a kiss, but his daughter didn’t respond. So he had to complete the bend and merely grazed the top of her head.
“Wait, John,” Lisa said. “Couple of seconds. I need to use the bathroom real bad. If you could just watch her a second?”
John saw his wife’s frazzled expression and agreed.
Lisa promised it’d only be a second, and dashed out of the kitchen.
John knelt down next to Kimmie and moved a block closer.
“Mamma,” she cooed pointing down the hallway where Lisa had just run.
“That’s right, and who am I?”
“Dadda,” Kimmie said, still pointing down the hall.
“No. Dadda is right here.”
“Dadda-dadda.”
The light in the hall flickered, not at the bulb, but as if a shadow had crossed below it. John focused on it. He was sure his eyes were playing tricks on him. A second later he saw Lisa cross the hallway from the laundry room back into the bathroom. He relaxed.
“That’s Mamma,” John told Kimmie. She wrapped her arms around his leg and he patted her on the head.
Lisa emerged from the bathroom a moment later. “Thank you so much, hon. Have a nice day at work.”
John went to walk, but Kimmie had quite the strong grip on his leg.
“Looks like someone doesn’t want you to go to work today,” Lisa said.
“You and me both,” John told Kimmie, pulling her up into his arms. “I’ll be back.” He kissed his daughter on the forehead, then set her back down and left for work.
The garage door roared. It was on its last rope, felt like it was shaking the whole house as it opened. It was another repair they couldn’t afford.
Lisa groaned when it roared shut as John drove off.
“Did that noise scare you?” Lisa asked her little girl. Kimmie’s eyes were wide and glued to the far ceiling. “It’s just our awful garage door. One day, when we are rich we’ll buy a new one.”
Later, Kimmie’s eyes would light up as they did every evening when John returned home, and their rickety old garage door trumpeted his return. It didn’t matter what Kimmie was doing, when she heard the garage she’d perk up and wait for John to come through the door.
Kimmie started a moment longer and then she returned to playing with her blocks. A deep sigh carried Lisa back into the kitchen, where she poured herself a cup of coffee. It would be too hot to drink right away so she started to set it on the counter.
Kimmie grabbed her leg.
The coffee spilt. Steaming hot liquid splashed down on Kimmie.
She screeched.
Lisa screamed, too.
Lisa snatched Kimmie from the ground, pulling her in close. “You’re okay, baby. Mommy has you.”
But Kimmie was near inconsolable. Her eyes were puckered with thick tears wetting her cheeks. Lisa bounced her gently, patted her back. Everything she’d learned in the last year and a half was put to the test. One of those things had to work.
“It’s okay, it’s okay,” she repeated over and over again. Her heart raced. She was as alert as the drinking two cups of coffee would’ve made her. There was no reason for it now. She carried Lisa as she searched the freezer for an ice pack, all the while trying to console her daughter. “You’re fine, you’re going to be fine.”
But all Lisa could think about was how terrible of a parent she was. She burned her child with hot coffee.
“Is she okay?” John asked later that night.
Lisa had confessed just before they settled in for bed. “Yes, she was fine by the time I dropped her off at day care. She didn’t have any marks or anything.”
“I’m sorry, babe.”
“It’s my fault. It was so stupid. I was just so tired,” Lisa said. “I spill coffee every morning, I don’t think I ever noticed it before, but there’s drip stains all down the counter, right there.”
John nodded. “I’ve seen those before.”
“Why didn’t you tell me? Or better yet,” she switched tones, “why didn’t you clean it up?”
“I figured it was from the previous owners, it’s been like that since we moved in last year.”
“I really thought we’d be moved in by now,” Lisa said.
“We’ve got a good excuse. We moved right after having a baby. I feel like I didn’t even start sleeping until a week ago,” John said.
“You haven’t been sleeping,” Lisa said. “You wake up as much as Kimmie does.”
“I guess I’m waking you up, too.”
“Don’t take it the wrong way, but if you wake me up tonight, I’m going to start sleeping in the guest bedroom. I’ve got to get a decent night’s sleep.”
“Sorry,” John said. “Maybe I should go sleep there. Would that make it easier? All your stuff is in our bathroom. I could move my toothbrush into the hall bathroom and could probably slink in and out in the morning without you noticing. Then you could sleep in a little.”
“Kimmie isn’t going to let me sleep in. She’s up the same time your alarm goes off.”
John kissed Lisa and slid his legs out from under the sheets and onto the floor. “We’ll try it tonight.”
“I’m not kicking you out,” Lisa said. “I mean we’re not one of those couples who ends up sleeping in separate beds. I love you.”
John smiled. “Sure you do. Wait until Tony hears about this.”
“Oh don’t you dare tell him. He’ll tell Caitlin and then I’ll never hear the end of it. We’re a happy couple. We just need sleep.”
“So you keep telling me,” John said with a wink.
Lisa tried to read her book after John left. But she kept hearing him, bumbling about in the kitchen and what not. She really couldn’t figure out what he had to do other than what she’d seen him do---grab his toothbrush out of the bathroom and snag his pillow off the bed.
But Lisa had gained no more than a sentence all the while. She read it again, having already forgotten what she was reading.
Something crashed.
She closed her book, set it on the nightstand and turned off her lamp.
Lisa awoke in the middle of the night. Moonlight cut shadows on the far bedroom wall. It looked like someone had started to paint the wall a lighter shade and given up. Her mind thought of all the rooms she wanted to repaint. There were plenty of marks on the walls, and quite a few she knew they were responsible for when they moved in. She hoped the house would feel like home once she took the steps to repaint and decorate. But after over a year of living there, it still felt like they were renting a crummy apartment.
The whole reason they had bought the house, was because it had sat on the market too long. Her understanding was that the original owners just stopped paying their mortgage and skipped town. When the housing market crashed, the bank lost interest had in staging it for resale. When they viewed the home, the grass was over a foot high, and though the house was unfurnished, dust decorated the walls and counters. It was thick enough that they left footprints. But John was confident that a little tender love and care would return the home to glory, and the money saved could be spent making upgrades that fit their personality.
The most they’d changed, was getting the cable guy to reroute the cable to a different wall so that they could hang the TV over the fireplace without a mess of cords.
Ever since, it had been one thing or another. They replaced the garbage disposal. Paid an AC repairman a lot of money to realize they’d just blown a fuse and needed to flip a switch. There was the leaking toilet that just needed a bolt on the tank tightened. And of course, there was the guest bathroom’s tub, which fell apart the first time they tried to use the shower and the toilet seat that broke as John tried to fix it himself. The tools and the broke faucet had remained the tube ever since. It’s not like they needed it. Aside from family members who helped them move, they hadn’t had time for guests.
But Lisa wanted guests. She wanted a place she could call her own, and her
mind circled around a growing to-do-list.
She didn’t sleep at all.
Neither, did John.
She heard him over Kimmie’s monitor.
“Go back to sleep,” he said.
Then a little while later, again, “Go back to sleep.”
A door closed and the floor creaked a little as he wandered through the house. The fridge door puckered as it was opened, and later closed.
Lisa thought she heard John’s stomach growl. It was amazing how sounds travelled.
“I hate you,” Lisa said as she crossed John’s path.
“Sorry, did I wake you? Kimmie is still asleep,” he said.
“That’s great. I need a gallon of coffee.” Lisa turned on the coffeemaker. “Why do you look so awake?”
“Cause… I’m not bragging…but I slept pretty good last night.”
“Really. I heard you up around 3 or so.”
John scrunched his face and cocked an eyebrow. “No.”
“Were you sleepwalking again?”
John stopped in his tracks, midway to grabbing his breakfast bar. “I hope not. Did I?”
“I swear I heard you get up last night.”
“Well, I don’t remember. Don’t even remember if I dreamed anything. Maybe you just dreamed it.”
Lisa feigned a laugh. “I spent the whole night thinking about all the things I wanted to change and fix in this stupid house. It felt too warm in the room, and I just couldn’t get comfortable. Every time I was tired enough to close my eyes, I heard some noise.”
“Sorry, babe. I hope your day goes better.”
John wasn’t being rude. It was time for him to leave. Lisa knew that and didn’t bother. He was probably late the day before and she had no desire to hold him up again that morning. Especially since Kimmie was gifting her a few extra minutes of peace by sleeping in for a change.
She wandered into the room that they’d designated as the nursery—one day it would be John’s office. The door was open, a night light shone on the far side of the room and the hum of a white noise-maker had kept Kimmie from hearing John or Lisa as they prepared for the day. She was so grateful that her child slept soundly. She looked forward to more mornings like this. She stared into the room a moment and then looked back down the hallway.
9 Tales Told in the Dark 18 Page 11
