Hazy View: Souls of the Vanished

by Ink Blood

  “What do you mean?”

  “Nothing happens in this town and we’ve gotten too use to that. Maybe because we don’t want to see more, we’re overlooking something of grave importance.”

  Andrew sat for moment thinking. “Something about these cases just doesn’t add up I’m giving it much thought but I can’t put my finger on it.”

  “So what do you think?”

  “Oh, just that I think these cases needs more attention. Now that you mention it, it's making the most sense.”

  “Then you’re keeping it open. Good for you. Do you think there’s something wrong with the lake?”

  “Nothing’s wrong on it, it's more a case of what’s wrong in the lake.” Andrew corrected.

  “I haven’t been at the lake recently, the novelties worn off I’m afraid but I’m not deaf. I hear the talk and rumors flying around town.”

  Andrew opened the Robert Wilson, missing child, witness statements and coroner’s report. He studied them carefully.

  Yvonne’s voice overwhelmed his thoughts. “I said I heard Tom had some incidents, small but not much worth mentioning.”

  “I didn’t hear anything about that.” Andrew admitted.

  “I wonder maybe it has something to do with the recent events.”

  “Do you believe in the power of the supernatural?” Andrew started softly.

  “Not unless I’ve gone out of my mind, and I haven’t that’s for sure.” Yvonne rejected the idea.

  “It's strange because I spoke to Helen James-Leigh this morning. She just moved into sheriff’s house. She rescued the team from the lake last night. A father and son, they’re in hospital.” Andrew paused.

  Yvonne seemed confused.

  “Never mind, she told me that she saw a ghost in front of her.” Andrew continued.

  “More than likely she was hallucinating.” Yvonne remarked and rolled her eyes in disbelieve.

  “Do you think she was?”

  Yvonne dropped her pen and looked hard at Andrew. “All these spooky nonsense, it's just stories to bring trade as the hundreds of times before.”

  Andrew lifted his shoulders and got up. “I’ll have to see the men in hospital. Maybe they can clear this up for me.”

  Andrew collected blank statements from his cabinet and got ready to leave when Martin appeared from the office. He had changed into private clothes, and held a large brown cardboard box filled with personal effects. Yvonne stood up as Martin turned to her.

  Martin took a moment before he spoke sincerely. “Thank you for your hard work and dedication that you’ve shown me. I hope Sheriff Foster keeps you on because I consider you to be a real asset to this office. I’d like to apologize for my behavior of late. I don’t even have a good excuse, but I wasn’t myself.”

  “At least you’re getting out of this deadbeat town, where will you be going?” Yvonne asked almost convinced of Martin’s sincerity.

  Martin forced a smile. “Up north, I’m meeting my wife and son. They’re staying at her mother’s farm.”

  Yvonne shook Martin’s hand. “I’m glad everything’s working out for you. Take care.”

  Martin turned to Andrew as someone who had just completed a job rather than a lifelong friend. Andrew felt Martin’s resentment, but couldn’t place the reason.

  “I’ve left my service pistol and the safe keys in the top drawer of the desk. My uniform’s hanging behind my…, I mean your door. I believe you’ll be a good sheriff and wish you the best. Don’t mind these people too much. They’ll drive you insane.”

  “I wish you the best too. Give us a call often and send my regards to Janet and Christopher.”

  Martin looked at Andrew strangely as he turned and headed to the door. “Sure.” He called back and Andrew followed.

  Martin and Andrew walked out to Martin’s private vehicle parked in front of the office like two old friends. While walking they chatted idly, but most of all Martin chatted about his son and seemed excited about seeing him again after a three-month absence.

  Arriving at his vehicle Martin handed Andrew the keys to his old service vehicle.

  “Here, you’re sheriff now, I believe this is yours. Now you’ll need someone else to drive your vehicle.”

  “Thanks, I know you’re in a hurry to leave, but may I ask you something?”

  Martin turned to Andrew, now he had the chance to find out what Andrew was thinking. “Sure.”

  “Do you think there’s something wrong with the lake?”

  “What do you mean? It's a hole with water, what’s wrong with it?” Martin replied innocently.

  Andrew cleared his throat. “I’m not asking about the lake’s water, I mean is there something wrong in the lake?”

  Martin laughed sarcastically. “What could possibly be wrong, don’t tell me the fishes are fighting among themselves.”

  “Some of the witnesses said they saw something like an entity in the lake. I can’t see any sense in that.” Andrew said softly and felt foolish.

  “You’re telling me that people are making up stories about ghosts. Don’t you think this is another tactic people come up with to boost business around here? The town seems a little thin on the trade side don’t you think? It's the same crisis year after year. Now its ghosts, last year it was aliens and then wildlife going crazy. How long can this town keep milking the lake’s reputation for mystery? Don’t you think the town folks are letting their imagination run away with them? Or are you telling me instead that you now believe in ghosts.”

  Andrew lifted the case files slightly. “No, of course not, but if there’s a possibility, then…”

  Martin interrupted sharply. “…Just think of it like this. Without the city’s trade and the hordes that comes monthly, this little town would dry up and soon become a ghost town.”

  Andrew looked at the case files in his hands. “That’s what I thought too.”

  “So follow your instincts. You’ll know something feels right, that’s what has made you such a good police officer over the years, just some friendly advice.”

  Martin got into his private vehicle, started the engine and turned the window down. The breeze blew joyfully and free. The sun was still bright although clouds were growing heavier.

  Andrew forced a smile to ease his bruised ego. “That’s all fare and well, what if I’m wrong and the people crucify me for it? What if I let something major go unpunished? How do I fix it without you? I hoped that you wouldn’t have to leave.”

  Martin got impatient. “You’re not a baby anymore, it's unnecessary for anyone to hold your hand. I’ve got faith in you. You’ll do the best you can. A Few people have the skills to make a good sheriff. You do have the wits for it. Just be the best you can, and if you feel you can’t cut it, then there’s someone else to take your place.”

  Andrew took a deep breath. “You’re right. These people need hobbies or something.”

  “To them making up these stories are hobbies. It keeps them busy until the hordes come into town from the city.”

  Both laughed, Martin had to put more effort into laughing.

  Martin pulled out of the parking bay and waved before driving away. Andrew stood in the middle of the road watching the red ford disappeared around the corner. He smiled as he looked down at the keys in his hand. Excited like a child he walked to the four by four service vehicle. Large letters on the door read ‘Hazy View Sheriff’. He lifted his gun belt and unlocked the door.

  *~*~*

  *III*

  Tom Livingston stood on the pier. He cupped his hand over his eyes to see without the glare of the sun. He surveyed the water. He knew something was in the water, hidden and waiting to strike, he felt it.

  He looked in every direction as far as he could. He paid more attention to the North. Seeing nothing he closed his eyes to give them a rest. He walked off the pier and towards the reeds and inspected that too, checking through the crushed reeds where Robert Wilson’s boat ran ashore.

  Still he found nothin
g.

  He walked into the water where something grabbed Martin the day before. He stood silently waiting for something to come out of the water and grab him.

  Nothing happened.

  He stood silently, thinking for a moment, it must be under the water, waiting for someone to come on the lake.

  As hard as he tried, he couldn’t see anything, where was it?

  Tom looked as far as he could. He even walked along the shore toward the North bank. It was a large area to cover and he walked slowly, more of a stroll.

  Now and then he stopped, cupped his hand and stared out over the water. He was silent and listened hard. Maybe a jump or splash would give away its position.

  He waited, no sound came to hear.

  It must’ve gone under the water, deeper into the murky mud that covered the bottom. He was sure of it.

  Yes. He was sure of it. Danger waited silently in the lake. Every time someone went on the water they became prey to the beast. In the North was a four-hundred foot drop rock face and it was the only possible area where this beast could hide. No one ever went there, it was too isolated. It was not just at night. Something unexplained and unexpected also happened during the day.

  He stood staring with the distinct feeling that something was watching him.

  *~*~*

  *IV*

  Helen noticed water puddles everywhere.

  Small evenly spaced like someone walked dripping, leaving wet footprints everywhere. Water covered the tiles in the kitchen. The upstairs passages carpet showed watermarks as did the spare room. In the upstairs passage the closet door was ajar. Neatly stored Blankets, towels and sheets now lay on the floor.

  “Olivia, come here and explain what you’re doing with my towels.” Helen called stepping into Olivia’s room then paused.

  In the center of the room next to a heap of toys a few towels remained. Dark patches on the carpet showed more wet marks. Helen collected the wet towels and closed the door as she left. She threw the towels into the washing basket and walked downstairs, listening for Olivia.

  It was silent.

  She looked into the lounge and out the window but saw nothing. She heard a faint sound from outside near the pier. The kitchen door was wide open. She followed small puddles through the kitchen, out the backdoor and down the steps. Helen glanced around in bright sunlight.

  She saw nothing.

  The sound came from the basement, it echoed loudly as she entered the kitchen.

  “Who on earth dried up the water, it can’t evaporate that fast. If I get my hands on Olivia, I’ll have to remember to thank her.” She remarked and continued to the basement door.

  The basement window was a small stretched window near the ceiling. The sun shone through, showing just how much dust had collected over time. At the bottom of the stairs installed shelves provided ample space for storage. The floor was in serious need of sweeping and mopping. Fresh paint coated the walls.

  The concreted floor felt cold under her bare feet. A large room branched off to the left. She found herself in a room the same size as the kitchen. She walked to the room next door. Her steps echoed in the empty space. A small room to the left housed the furnace and fuse box. A passage continued to another room. She could hear playing. She managed to make out what Olivia was saying.

  Helen took a few steps and paused at the opening, eavesdropping on Olivia’s game. Olivia had found a friend.

  Helen peeped around the corner.

  Olivia sat on a blanket in the middle of the empty dusty room. Scattered around her were a few toys and a tea set. She sat with her back to the passage. Her attention held by an invisible friend. Dressed in a princess dress with a large pink bow she felt special and it showed in her game. Her long baby blond hair was tide back with a tiara set firmly.

  The basement door slammed shut.

  Helen rushed back to the first room and paused. The door was still ajar.

  Although well-lit the room had some places drenched in darkness. She moved slowly closer to the shelves and noticed the painters failed to secure some to the wall after painting.

  The door cracked again and slammed shut.

  Helen didn’t feel a draft but an eerie cold had sent shivers through her body.

  Her breathing was fast. Her heart pounded and she felt light-headed. She felt angry, filled with rage and desperate. She wanted to grab shelves and throw them. She wanted to grab a lump of her hair and yank it out in a fit of rage.

  She scanned through the darkness and saw nothing.

  Laughter broke through the other room where Olivia was playing.

  Helen felt a strong urge to weep hard and loud.

  She wanted to return to the other room and paused.

  The temperature plummeted.

  A moan echoed, bouncing off the walls and ceiling. A thump followed by a hissing moan filled the room.

  Someone moved quickly, descending into the basement from the door behind her.

  The stairs were empty, whatever descended, came down the wall behind it. A loud crash froze her. The light blinked and admitted a cracking sound.

  A shelf moved.

  Something was moving behind them, moving from shelf to shelf. Fear grabbed her into a numb stance. Her breathing was even faster. Her heart drummed and her ears were dull.

  Vapor escaped her mouth.

  An eerie, mysterious, ghastly draft passed her. Helen hurried to the other room, the hissing and scratching just ahead of her. At the door Helen paused. Olivia’s voice carried above the hissing and scratching.

  Olivia was clinging to an extra blanket still offering it to her friend. Olivia wasn’t in any danger, someone was with her.

  “You can come and play again. Good-bye, come back soon.” Olivia called in a gentle voice.

  Olivia dropped the blanket and sat at her tea set. She was sad and lonely. Helen walked to Olivia. Warmth returned to the room. Olivia turned to Helen with teary eyes.

  “Can you explain all these towels and blanket you’re dragging through the dirt?” Helen asked sympathetically.

  “I was playing mommy.” Olivia admitted between sniffs.

  “Yes, I can see that. Can you explain the water throughout the house?”

  “It's my friend, mommy. I’ll dry it up.” Olivia offered.

  “Your friend is that why you took all the towels and blankets?”

  Helen didn’t want to call Olivia a liar, not after what just happened. Something was happening, something she couldn’t explain yet.

  “Yes mommy, my friend said he’s cold. I was just trying to help him. He’s so sad.” Olivia said wiping tears away.

  “He, so it's a boy? Where’s he now?”

  “His mommy called him. He went home.”

  Olivia’s words cut like a knife through Helens soul.

  “Where does he live?” Helen asked almost breathless.

  “He told me that they use to stay around here, but now he stays in the lake. He doesn’t like it there. He says it's too dark and cold. It scares him.” Olivia admitted and jumped into Helen’s arms and wept.

  “There now, I’m sure your friend would like to come and visit at least he’ll be happy.” Helen cuddled Olivia.

  Olivia stopped weeping. “It's okay if he comes to play?”

  “Yes I’m sure it would do no harm, as long as your little friend stops messing water all over the house.”

  Olivia grabbed a towel filled with toys and ran out of the room.

  Helen collected the rest of the toys and bedding. “It's good she’s dealing with the divorce, but a friend that lives in the lake? What’s he, a merman?” Helen followed Olivia.

  *~*~*

  *V*

  The hospital was a six-floor building offering wards, emergency rooms, consulting rooms, the latest equipment, theaters and specialist departments including a rehabilitation and psychology departments. It was the largest, most equip and safest hospital in a hundred mile radius. People from nearby towns and the city came to the hos
pital for its standard of excellence. Besides the outstanding service the hospital also boasted large windows with a full view of the lake and large wild forests and mountains on the other side.

  Andrew found Dr. Phillip Scotts at the nurses’ station. He was slender with a small mustache, deep set eyes and his drop-dead gorgeous.

  Phillip noticed Andrew and stopped reading a chart. “Congratulations on your position sheriff, I hope the rumors are true this time.”

  “Well news does travel fast around here. Yes it's true this time. I was wondering if I could see the two people, they came in last night from the lake.”

  “I don’t know what you’re going to get out of the father. He’s under heavy medication and is sleeping now, but his son’s in the psychiatric ward for observation. Maybe he can help you.” Phillip started and walked towards the psychiatric ward. “Walk with me. I’m on my way to see him now.” He invited.

  “Are you going to keep him here long?” Andrew asked as he couldn’t recall seeing any physical injuries.

  “No. The psychologist had already seen him and suggested that we keep him there to reduce any harm he could do in the normal wards. It's just temporary.” Phillip assured.

  “Do you have news on the father?” Andrew asked.

  “He was unconscious when he arrived. He has a concussion and three broken ribs. At some stage he fell overboard because he has a substantial amount of water in his lungs. Then he has these cuts on his face, arms and legs.” Phillip explained.

  “Cuts made by what, do you know?” Andrew asked shocked.

  “It looks like they’re made by claws, or something like fingernails, but not exactly. It's too deep for fingernails. If fingernails made those cuts they would’ve broken off and imbedded in the flesh around the wounds.”

  “Do you think the son could’ve done this?”

  “No, he’s too weak. It's safe to say the person was bigger and stronger than a teenager. From the time the boy came in he’s been sitting on the bed rocking. He’s humming every waken moment, at times he would look around filled with more fear than I’ve ever seen in one human being. He’ll ask anyone who gets close if she’s coming back. I’m not sure who his referring to, but I think perhaps he’s talking about someone who might’ve been with the attacker.”