Slaughter Series

by A. I. Nasser

  “Get out!” Miranda hissed, quickly making her way to the fireplace and grabbing one of the fire irons.

  William looked at her angrily, his mouth curled in a scornful promise of retribution. “I will see you burn for this, you bitch. I will tie you to that tree and light the flames myself!”

  “I’ll be waiting for you,” Miranda said, “but until that day comes, get the hell out of my house!”

  William shot her a look of pure rage, his teeth clenched in anger as his eyes darted between her and the fire iron in her hand. Accepting that there was nothing left to be done here, he stormed from the room and out of the house, the front door slamming behind him.

  Miranda Cole broke into tears.

  ***

  Sally Brians stepped into the bar and unbuttoned her coat, looking about the small crowd tiredly. It had been a long ride, and her argument with Jeff had made the journey even more tiresome, his consistent calls an annoying distraction. He had agreed to stay behind after much convincing from her side, but it had not been easy, and she could already see the strain their argument would have on the future of their relationship. Still, she needed him in Melington, not with her. Not for this.

  She spotted Joanne from across the room and made her way directly to her, rapping her knuckles on the bar to get the woman’s attention. Joanne poured a drink and brought it to Sally, placing it in front of her.

  “I’m not here to drink,” Sally said, keeping her voice low.

  “I know,” Joanne replied. “This isn’t from me.”

  Sally frowned.

  “You’re a popular woman, Agent Brians,” Joanne said.

  Sally tried to hide her surprise, wondering how the bartender had found out. Joanne eyed her for a few seconds before giving her a small smile.

  “I guess I am,” Sally replied. “So why the drink?”

  Joanne gestured to a table behind Sally. “It’s from your friend over there.”

  Sally turned to where Joanne was pointing and felt a sudden tingle race through her.

  At a table in the corner of the bar, secluded and away from the rest of the crowd, sat Alan Carter.

  ***

  The woman in red watched the flames from the shadows and smiled.

  The house was alight in splendid colors of red and orange, the fire enveloping the structure and consuming it as neighbors watched in horror and sirens blared in the distance. The woman knew well that there would be nothing left once the fires were put out, the flames hot and furious enough to melt steel and turn bones to dust. She had seen it before, had felt that fury once, and she welcomed the pain it was inflicting on others.

  Alan Carter had lied. She had tasted it on his lips. He had no intention of returning, of ending what his family had started. He was going to leave her to rot in the corridor forever, at the mercy of the monster she was bound to for all eternity, to tear at her until there was nothing left.

  But, there was consolation now. Only two children remained, and when the door was finally open, the seals broken and the promise fulfilled, he would be free, and she along with him. In a way, she had Alan Carter to thank for that. If not for him, she would still be in the corridor.

  “He knows.”

  The raspy voice came from the darkness behind her, but she did not flinch. She had gotten used to the stench, to the heavy breathing and the rotten flesh that touched her bare skin. She could not be hurt, though, and that provided enough comfort. The monster needed her now more than ever, no longer as steward, but as his only link to the outside world. As long as she was breathing, as long as she was moving, the corridor moved with her, and so did he.

  “Who knows?” the woman replied, keeping her back to the figure in the shadows, unable to look him in the eye lest she lose everything.

  “Carter.”

  Victoria felt a shudder race through her, and she instantly understood the feelings she was experiencing since her arrival to this world. With every step, she had felt someone watching her, eyes within her own, looking out into the world along with her. It was an odd presence she had tried to ignore, convincing herself that it was nothing more than her presence beyond the corridor. She had never thought it could be anything else.

  “That is of no concern,” Victoria replied. “He can’t do anything about it.”

  The chuckle behind her shook her to her core, and a hand rested on her shoulder, squeezing tightly. She flinched from the touch, the raw, skinless flesh that made her own skin crawl. She steadied herself quickly, resolved to not let her fear show, knowing well what he could do to her if he knew she was weak.

  “He knows everything,” the monster whispered in her ear, the smacking of tongue against lips enough to make her lose her mind. “He is one with the corridor. He is one with you.”

  The woman in red knew what that meant, and only then did she venture to look at the red eyes staring dangerously at her, the souls of the dead reflecting in the fires that burned within. His lips were drawn back, his teeth, an amber glow in the light of the flaming house. She frowned at him, her body numb as he wrapped his hand around her neck.

  Copper’s face was inches from hers, his rot clouding her senses. “Cole,” he said with a smile.

  Victoria closed her eyes as the fingers around her neck pressed tighter against her windpipe, blocking the air to her lungs.

  “They’re in Darville,” she gasped. “They’re the last ones.”

  The hand around her neck suddenly released its grip and she opened her eyes in time to see Copper disappear into the shadows, his laughter deep.

  “We’ll go there now,” she said to the darkness.

  “Good,” the raspy voice echoed around her. “We’re going to have so much fun.”

  ***

  “You’re a difficult man to find.”

  Sally stared at Alan Carter from across the table, her drink in her hand as the man gave her a weak smile and folded his hands over the table. He looked much different than he had in the pictures, as if years had been added to his life. She could see the sunken eyes even in the dim lights of the bar, the disheveled hair showing signs of the original blonde color at the roots, his skin a shade paler than she would have expected.

  “I guess that’s a good thing,” Alan replied, his eyes briefly scanning the rest of the bar before settling on Sally again.

  “How smart do you think this is?” Sally asked. “Meeting me here, especially since you’re a fugitive.”

  Alan smiled. “A fugitive?”

  “The FBI is looking for you.”

  Alan nodded and shrugged. “Funny,” he said. “Didn’t expect that one.”

  “So who are you running from?”

  “I think you know, Agent Brians.”

  Sally folded her arms across her chest and raised a bemused eyebrow. “Fiona Bright.”

  Alan shook his head.

  “The Council?”

  “That’s strike two, Agent,” Alan said with a smile and sipped from his drink.

  Sally clicked her tongue and leaned forward. “You do know we’re looking into the missing children, and you’re at the top of my most wanted list.”

  “That’s okay,” Alan replied. “I have nothing to hide.”

  “Really? Your research says otherwise.”

  Alan smiled. “So you found them.”

  “You don’t seem surprised.”

  “Should I be?”

  “I would if I had something I didn’t want people to find out.”

  Alan pushed his drink to a side and leaned in, his eyes locking onto Sally’s. “There’s nothing there that the right people don’t already know.”

  “There’s a whole lot there that nobody would believe, though.”

  Alan winked. “Exactly,” he said. “The right people.”

  Sally stared at the man for a moment before leaning back and lighting a cigarette. She took a sip from her glass, her eyes never leaving Alan’s, trying her best to read him. The confidence he had was admirable, given the predicamen
t he was in. In a way, it seemed like he thought he was untouchable, which was a terrible mistake.

  “Where’s Deborah Adams?” Sally asked, trying to throw him off.

  “Are you looking for her, too?”

  “That’s not an answer.”

  “I wasn’t trying to answer you,” Alan said. “I doubt she’s important to whatever it is you’re looking into.”

  “On the contrary,” Sally replied. “I think she’s very important. It doesn’t look like you’re going to give me anything meaningful to work with.”

  “How so?”

  “I read up on you, Alan Carter,” Sally said. “Your medical history, the psychiatrists, everything. From what I’ve seen, it looks like you actually believe this whole Copper whatever bullshit.”

  “And you don’t?”

  “Of course not,” Sally said. “I think you actually know who’s behind the kidnappings and don’t want to face it. Someone close to you maybe?”

  Alan smiled. “We all have our secrets, Agent Brians,” he said. “For instance, I know yours.”

  “Mine?”

  “Blake Collins,” Alan said. “How many people in the FBI actually know he’s your nephew?”

  Sally felt the world around her come to a standstill, slowing down until there was only Alan and her. She hadn’t shared this information with anyone besides her direct supervisor. Not even Jeff knew.

  “How did you know that?” she asked, suddenly a lot more serious as she realized Alan had been able to get the upper hand.

  “I know a lot of things now,” Alan replied. “Some things more than others, but most pretty disturbing.”

  Sally eyed him, trying her best to see the lie behind his words, to read him somehow, but he was as blank as a sheet of paper.

  “You’ve been doing your research, too,” she finally said.

  “No, I only just found out about you,” Alan shrugged. “They tell me you’re important, that you’re probably the only one who would believe me enough to help me see this through.”

  “See what through?”

  “Copper Tibet,” Alan said. “It started with a Carter, and it must end with a Carter.”

  Sally shook his head, annoyed at the riddles Alan was spewing at her. “You know something about the kidnappings.”

  “I do,” Alan replied, “and so do you. I’m assuming you didn’t have a warrant when you confiscated my research, but I really don’t care. What matters is that you know.”

  “Do you actually expect me to believe what’s in those boxes?” Sally asked. “I’ve asked around. This is all in your head, and the sooner you realize that, the closer we’ll get to finding out who’s been taking those kids.”

  Alan looked at her for a moment before downing his drink. He leaned in, his eyes serious, his features no longer a poker face as the gravity of what he was about to say settled in. If Sally didn’t know better, she would have sworn that those were the eyes of a man who had truly seen nightmares beyond anyone’s wildest dreams.

  “I am going to say this once, Agent Brians, and only once,” Alan started. “Copper Tibet is real, and the kidnappings are real. This might sound like small town folklore, but there’s more to it than you can ever imagine. You cannot even begin to fathom what I have been through, or any other member of the founding families, for that matter. Our ancestors burned an innocent man alive, and somewhere between this world and the next, he’s created a small horror house where he keeps the children he takes. I know that place well, because I have been there. I have seen the children. I have seen Blake and countless others whose names are now burned into my mind. I can never forget them. My sister was there until I freed her, but with her, I freed a woman so terrifying, she could freeze the blood in your veins. And as she moves, Copper moves, and not a single child is safe. Copper has them all except the Coles, and the woman in red is already a few miles out of Darville and on her way here now. If the Cole twins are taken, too, then that’s it. Copper walks free! And I’ll be damned before I let that happen. So, I suggest you open your eyes to the realities beyond what’s believable and put a little trust into the one person who can stop this; me. Because if you don’t, Agent Brians, then the children of Melington will not be the only ones going missing.”

  Sally sat completely still, gazing at Alan as he finished his monologue and sat back, waiting for her reply. A hundred different questions raced through her mind, and in the center of them all was what he had said about Blake.

  “The Coles are in Melington,” Sally said, unable to reply with anything else.

  Alan took the cigarette from her hand and put it out. “Then road trip it is,” he said. “We need to get there before the woman in red finds out.”

  Sally was about to say something when the sound of gunshots shattered through the night.

  ***

  The woman in red smiled as she watched the determination on Peter Anderson’s face.

  They were making good time, and she was pleased with how obedient her human toy was. He cared a lot for her, she could feel it, and it seemed like a waste that in the end she would have to get rid of him. He had proven himself quite useful over the past weeks, and she was going to hate having to break his neck.

  Still, she could dwell on that later. Right now, there was work to be done, and she could already feel the tingling in her body as they came closer and closer to their final target. At last, she would be free; free of the corridor, free of him. The world had changed so much since she had last walked through it, but she knew she would be able to handle herself here. Besides, there would be more toys.

  “He’s here.”

  Victoria kept her eyes focused straight ahead, knowing what she would see if she dared look in the rearview mirror. The stench filled the car quickly, and she was forced to roll down the windows to let it out before suffocating in it.

  “Carter.”

  The woman in red nodded. She could feel him, a heavy presence in her heart that pulled at her as if bringing her to him. No doubt he was here to save the Coles, but she knew that would prove useless. There would be no denying him this time; not when everything hung on these last two children.

  “He will not stop us,” Victoria said.

  A chuckle in the darkness behind her made the hairs on her arms stand up as they passed a sign with the words ‘Welcome to Darville’ painted on it.

  “No,” came the raspy reply. “He will not.”

  ***

  An hour before Sally Brians stepped into the bar on the other side of the street from The Blue Whale, Ivan Pullman sat behind the wheel of his car and waited. Denny sat beside him, munching on a bag of Doritos and humming ‘Fly Me to the Moon’ out of tune. Ivan had told him to stop once, but the big man ignored him.

  A few minutes later, Ivan sat up straight as he watched Fiona Bright and David Whelm step out of their motel room and climb into a car. Ivan tapped his friend on the arm, and Denny quickly reached into the backseat for his shotgun.

  “Let’s rock and roll,” the big man bellowed, and Ivan quickly squeezed his arm to shut him up. He waited until Fiona backed out from her spot and idled out of the motel parking lot, slowly turning right before accelerating forward.

  “What are we waiting for?” Denny asked.

  Ivan unlocked the doors. “You are going to the motel. Rachel Adams isn’t with them, so I’m assuming she’s still inside.”

  “So?”

  “So,” Ivan said in exasperation, “I am going to follow the Sheriff and you deal with the vegetable.”

  “Ow, come on!” Denny threw his hands in the air. “What fun is that?”

  Ivan looked at him seriously. “This isn’t supposed to be fun. Just get the job done, and do it quietly.”

  Denny sighed and opened the car door before Ivan stopped him. “The gun?”

  Denny pulled his arm back. “This is my baby,” he said. “I don’t go anywhere without my baby.”

  Ivan let the burly man go, wincing when he slammed the door an
d watched him hurry across the street and to the motel. Ivan turned the ignition, shifted into drive, and followed Fiona Bright.

  FBI Report

  Elizabeth Gardiner

  Elizabeth Gardiner, 4 Berrington Drive, Melington, Connecticut

  I’m a lawyer and member of the Melington Council.

  I was not involved in the kidnappings of any children in Melington.

  I was not involved with any event that led to the riots.

  No, I did not order Fiona Bright to shoot the rioters. She did that on her own.

  I was under direct orders from William Brewster.

  I was the only contact person between the Chairman and Ivan Pullman. I relayed all the Chairman’s wishes and reported the results.

  Yes. But that wasn’t my fault.

  [The accused breaks down and cries for a few minutes before regaining herself]

  I was being forced to comply. William Brewster forced me to do those things.

  I know how it sounds. Find William and he’ll tell you I’m innocent.

  I couldn’t. He wouldn’t let me. He would hurt me, beat me sometimes. I couldn’t do anything about it.

  What authorities? Fiona Bright was his puppet.

  Ivan came back for us. I think he secretly knew that William would try to have him killed.

  Please, stop asking me that. I’m innocent. I swear it. It was all William.

  [The accused begins to cry again. Questioning is stopped for half an hour]

  Sheriff Alexandra Bail and FBI Agent Jeff Duncan. They came to the Town Hall to warn us, but Ivan was already there. He tried to kill William before Alexandra got to him. He shot her, I think. I’m not sure. It’s all too hazy. It happened too quickly.