Slaughter Series

by A. I. Nasser

  Another slam, this time harder.

  “Well, don’t leave our guests waiting.”

  John didn’t need another invitation, quickly turning and racing down the hall. He didn’t bother to see who it was, welcoming any interruption that might make the current situation less horrifying than it was.

  David Green stormed in as soon as John opened the door, the tall man immediately grabbing him by the collar and slamming him against the wall. John felt his teeth clatter as his head ricocheted against the hard surface, the strong smell of alcohol barely hiding the stench that already filled the house.

  “You son of a bitch,” David Green hissed. “I’m going to see you dead for what your wife did to my Eva!”

  John tried to break free of the man’s grasp, but the vice-like grip made that impossible. The man’s eyes were blazing with fury, and John knew that no matter what he said or did right now, David was going to take his suffering out on him and Karen. John could see it in his eyes; David Green knew who killed his daughter.

  “Why?” the man yelled.

  Karen began to laugh, at first just a soft chuckle that slowly grew to an uncontrollable fit. It sent shivers down John’s spine, and when he looked her way, he saw her standing in the kitchen threshold, leaning against the frame as she watched the scene in her hallway unfold. John could see David’s features change as he set eyes upon the woman he knew had killed his daughter and had burned his home to the ground.

  David Green let go of John and immediately made for Karen, his stride quick, his goal only a few feet away. John quickly got a hold of himself and sprinted across the hall, grabbing David by the back of his shirt and catapulting him into a wall. The surprise attack threw the man off, and for a second David seemed unable to decide which of the two Kriks he was going to go after first.

  Apparently, John seemed like a greater threat, and the man quickly landed a punch that sent John to his knees, jaw pulsating with the force of the blow. In an instant, David had his hands wrapped around John’s throat, strangling him, lips pulled back in an angry sneer as his eyes reflected a murderous intent.

  John tried to break free, but the man’s grip was too strong. David wasn’t going to stop until he finished the kill, and the pressure his thumbs were applying to John’s windpipe threatened to break the cartilage there and kill him.

  John helplessly slapped at the hands around his neck, his blows doing nothing more than angering the man further.

  Suddenly David Green’s grip loosened and his eyes widened in surprise. Blood splattered all over John’s face, and he looked past the man’s surprised features at Karen as she raised and dropped her arm quickly and repeatedly, the shard of broken china in her hand stabbing into David’s back.

  David Green tried to turn around, but his efforts were wasted. Karen was stabbing at him like a woman on fire, and within seconds, the man’s tall framed was lying dead in the middle of the hallway, blood pouring out of his wounds in streams.

  John quickly pushed away from David Green’s limp body, the man’s dead eyes staring out into space as Karen relentlessly continued her attack. John saw the smile on her face as she toiled, and at that moment he knew he had lost his wife forever. He pushed himself to his feet, and without a second thought, raced towards the front door.

  He needed to get out, now, before Karen decided to take out the remainder of her bloodlust on him.

  The front door slammed shut before he could reach it, and as he grabbed for the knob, he felt a heavy blow to the back of his head.

  John Krik’s eyes rolled back in their sockets and the world around him suddenly darkened as he dropped to the floor.

  Chapter 22

  June Summers knew that it was going to be a terrible day.

  The minute she had woken up, she could feel it in her bones. There were mornings when she would get up and out of bed with a spring to her step, a lightness about her that made her feel like she could take on the world and come out victorious. On mornings like that, she tackled the day with vigor, her mind concentrating on the ups and playing down the downs, and she usually ended up back in bed at the end of the day with a smile on her face.

  This morning had not been one of those days.

  For starters, her joints had screamed out in agony the minute she had tried to walk to the bathroom. Actually, every joint in her body seemed to have had joined forces and decided to give her hell in unison.

  Hank had passed by late as well, and he had been quiet for most of the drive into town, only briefly discussing the weather and smiling when she told him about her new shipments coming in today. He had offered to help, but she was still holding out for Karen.

  She knew Karen Krik had been traumatized by the burning of the Greens’ house, Hank having told her how shell-shocked the woman had seemed when he had arrived with John at the scene. She had tried calling, a gesture that had gone nowhere, and had hoped to grab a ride out to visit her.

  It didn’t seem like Hank wanted to offer, though, and she didn’t want to force him into anything. He had never denied her anything, bless his soul, but she didn’t want to cross the line between politeness and imposing.

  Now she was going over the shipments she had signed off for this morning, and frustration was an understatement to how she felt. Half the things she had ordered hadn’t come through, and she had given the man in blue overalls hell over it, especially since she had promised clients that she’d have what they wanted by now. She already anticipated angry calls and exasperated complaints. Plus, the door to the back room storage space was causing problems, and she knew that she would be calling Hank in soon so he can find a way to open the damn thing.

  The day was definitely not going as planned.

  So, when Karen Krik walked into the shop looking like she had just been through the storm of the century, June was already halfway between deep frustration and full-blown anger, seriously contemplating whether or not to close up shop early and just head home. The woman standing just inside the door to the store, staring at her with a frown that was more threatening than June would have expected, was three hells away from the Karen Krik she had come to know.

  June stood up from her crouched position, her hand still on the cutter she had been using to open the deliveries, and stared back at Karen in confusion. If the burning had affected her, Hank had really downplayed just how bad she had taken it.

  “Oh God, you look like hell,” June said.

  Karen cocked her head to one side, her eyes locked on June, her fists clenched by her side as she just stared at her.

  “Honey, are you okay?” June asked, knowing well that she wasn’t, but oblivious to what else she could possibly say. She looked over the woman’s shoulder, hoping to see John coming in behind her, because she truly doubted that Karen was in any position to come into town looking the way she did.

  “You knew, didn’t you?” Karen whispered, her voice barely audible, yet the words ringing loud and clear in the empty store.

  “What did you say?” June asked, hoping she had misheard.

  Karen took a few steps forward, slowly, her eyes locked on June as the scowl on her face seemed to deepen. June unconsciously took a step back, taking note of the woman’s bare feet, dirty and bloody as she seemingly floated towards her.

  “You knew, June,” Karen said, more assertive, as if stating a fact. “You knew what he was doing, and you didn’t tell me.”

  June’s mind began to race as she tried to understand what Karen was talking about. She remembered what Hank had told her about seeing Eva Green at the Krik’s house, and her eyes suddenly widened in comprehension.

  Karen smiled and nodded. “So you did know.”

  June quickly shook her head. “Karen, my God, of course not,” she said. “Hank had told me something about seeing Eva Green at your house, but I thought nothing of it.”

  Karen suddenly stopped, her smile vanishing as she looked hard and long at June. “So Hank knew, too?”

  “No, honey,
no,” June said, realizing that she had put Hank in a tight position, especially since she knew how close he had become to the couple. “It was just an observation. We never thought there was anything going on. What makes you think something happened between them?”

  Karen chuckled, and the sound of it sent chills down June’s spine. “I know, June,” Karen said. “Ana told me everything.”

  “Ana?” June frowned, not recognizing the name.

  “She’s my new friend,” Karen said, starting towards June again. “A real friend. See, she cares about me, June, enough to tell me about what was happening in that house behind my back.”

  “I don’t know who this Ana is, Karen,” June said, the counter stopping her retreat, “but I think you should talk to John before you take anybody’s word for it.”

  Karen stopped again, looking behind her as if she had just remembered something. “John?” she muttered. “John’s a liar, June. Why would I believe anything he says?”

  “He’s your husband.”

  “He’s a liar!”

  June’s eyes clenched shut for an instant at the sudden outburst, her hands beginning to shake. Karen was not herself, and June had no idea what to say that would calm the brunette down. Her heart stopped when Karen pulled a kitchen knife out, the blade glinting in the fluorescent light of the store.

  “You’re a liar, too,” Karen said softly.

  ***

  John opened his eyes slowly, wincing from the throbbing at the back of his head. He waited for the world around him to fall back into focus, blinking repeatedly as he tried to make out his surroundings. There was little light, and the shadows cast by the single bulb were long and dark. He was sitting in a corner of the room, the cold ground beneath him creeping through his pants and causing his body to shiver. There was dampness in the air; he could feel it on his skin, and as he tried to move, to get up and stretch his aching legs, he felt the taut ropes around his wrists dig deep into his skin.

  Slowly, the realization of where he was began to sink in. It was the basement’s stench that hit him first, his senses slowly returning and bringing with them the appalling scent he had tried for days to avoid. He looked around and his eyes settled for a second on the furnace in the corner, and then on the windows.

  He looked up at where his hands were tied, the ropes twisting and turning around the piping, his efforts to pull out of the knots unyielding. His mind raced with possible solutions, but nothing seemed to present itself, and the pain in his head was making it difficult to think.

  He was trapped.

  Slowly, he began to remember what had happened, how Karen had attacked David Green and killed him, how he had tried to escape. He remembered the blow to his head, the darkness that had followed, and wondered how Karen had found the strength to drag him down into the basement and tie him up.

  What had she done with David Green’s body?

  John looked around aimlessly, not knowing what else he could do, trying once again to break free from his bounds. Nothing. He closed his eyes and tried pushing the pain away, tried forcing his mind to think.

  Doesn’t look good, Johnny-boy.

  “Shut up,” he muttered.

  You’re alone down here, tied to a pipe, with no way out. I’m your only company.

  “Leave me alone,” John pleaded.

  “Are you sure you want me to do that?”

  John’s eyes flew open. He was not alone.

  The voice wasn’t in his head. His eyes scanned the darkness, squinting as he tried to discern anything in the shadows, but came up short. The single bulb flickered, its light weakening, throwing the room into deeper darkness as the scent around him suddenly became unbearable. The windows above his head opened and slammed shut again, as if something had pushed its way into the basement through them. John felt a sudden chill in the air, and he began to pull against his ropes with even more force.

  “That’s useless, buddy.”

  John stopped, his head snapping left and right, panicking as he tried to pinpoint where the voice was coming from. He felt a shudder race through his body, and his heart beat changed from a quick skip to a racing thud.

  “You know, this could have been completely different.”

  John’s eyes grew wide as a figure stepped out from the shadows, familiar with her hair falling down to her shoulders, her dress dark. Eva walked into the dimming light, the shadows on her face hiding her eyes, but not her smile.

  “Hi, Johnny-boy.”

  John kicked back, pushing himself further against the wall, wishing he could crawl completely into it and hide. He felt the world around him shatter, knowing that he was losing his mind as he stared at the figure in front of him.

  “You’re not crazy, Johnny-boy,” Eva said, her voice raspy, like sand grains being rubbed against each other. “At least, not yet.”

  “You’re dead,” John stammered. “You died in the fire. How are you here?”

  “I’m not exactly here,” Eva chuckled, “and you’re wrong about the fire. I was dead before the fire.”

  John shook his head quickly, blinking as he tried to clear his mind, tried to fight the illusions he was experiencing before he went completely insane.

  “You see, your wife did quite a number on me,” Eva went on. “She’s pretty lethal with a knife, did you know that?”

  “You’re not real.”

  “Of course I am,” Eva smiled.

  “No,” John said quickly. “You’re only a figment of my imagination. I was hit on the head. I’m suffering from a concussion.”

  Eva walked towards John, forcing him further against the wall, and crouched down a few feet away from him. “You’re only half right, buddy,” she said, and in an instant her voice changed completely. “Eva is dead, and in a way, you’re to blame for that, aren’t you?”

  John closed his eyes. He didn’t want to hear any more. He wanted it to stop. He wanted his mind to stop playing tricks on him. He wanted out, and he wanted out right now.

  A cold hand grabbed his jaw and pressed down hard, forcing his eyes open as he groaned in pain, the pressure threatening to break bones.

  Eva was gone. In her place was a man he only recognized from his dreams, his beard heavy, his eyes bloodshot above a chilling smile. John stared into his eyes, and for a second he could feel his mind snap.

  Images flashed before him, a montage of places and faces frozen in time and space as they reeled before his eyes. He could barely make out anything he was seeing, each image never lingering for more than a second, so many so fast that it gave him a headache. It was like he was trapped watching a movie on fast-forward, and he couldn’t make it stop.

  “Do you see,” the man whispered, the sound of his voice coming from far away. “Do you see why I couldn’t let you leave, Johnny-boy?”

  John felt a heavy weight on his shoulders, tightness in his chest, and as the hand grasping his jaw pressed down harder, he felt the images slow down as they projected through his mind. It was as if he were being given someone else’s memories, sharing someone else’s experience, and the sheer volume of it was overwhelming. Generations upon generations of anger, love, laughter, hate and loss raced through him, and he suddenly knew that if this didn’t stop, he would go completely mad.

  “I will not be alone again,” the man said. “Not now, not ever. You wouldn’t listen, Johnny-boy, but Karen did. Karen wants to stay, and she will. She won’t leave me the way you wanted to. She won’t pack up her bags and go. She’ll make sure I’m never alone, and she’ll need you with her for that to happen.”

  “Stop,” John pleaded, the pain in his head excruciating as he tried to wrestle free of the hand holding onto him.

  “There’s no end, buddy,” the voice chuckled. “There’s only you and me down here, and we’re going to be spending a lot of time together.”

  John kicked out in vain, and suddenly a second hand grabbed him by the neck, pushing him roughly against the wall and pinning him there as more images raced throug
h his mind. He couldn’t breathe, the hand on his neck suffocating him, choking as he continued trying to wrestle free. He was going to die like this, and the realization of that made him fight harder.

  Then it was gone.

  John felt the pressure on his neck loosen and the reel of images slow and stop, then disappear completely. He inhaled sharply, filling his suffocating lungs with rancid air as he coughed and spit. He felt the pressure inside his head subside, and when he slowly opened his eyes, the tears that had been trapped behind the lids rolling freely down his face, he let his head fall against his chest.

  He could hear someone laughing in the darkness, a shrill sound that boomed about the basement as he tried to catch his breath and slow down the pounding in his chest. After a few seconds he looked up, searching the room with tired eyes.

  He was alone again.

  Chapter 23

  Sheriff Walter Garland pulled up in front of the Victorian and squinted at the large house looming over him.

  The sun had begun to set, the skies already purple as the world edged into the night. The temperature had dropped significantly, forcing Walter to slip on his coat and pull the zipper all the way up. He wasn’t young anymore, and the cold always found its way to his bones, promising a morning of excruciating pain and agony.

  Which was why he would have rather been somewhere else. Home, for instance. That seemed like a more appealing destination than the Dean house.

  Walter had taken Hank’s call seriously, knowing well what the effects of a traumatic experience could do to a man. He remembered the rampage Samuel Dean had gone on after the death of his son, and it wasn’t farfetched to believe that David Green could be capable of the same viciousness. He had lost his daughter, after all, and that kind of pain made a man do things. Terrible things.

  Walter had spent the entire afternoon looking for David, first stopping at the small loft he had been living in since the fire. When Walter didn’t find David, he stopped at all the regular places, avoiding the imminent drive out to the Kriks. He was hoping that David wouldn’t be stupid, but in retrospect, Walter knew that this should have been his first stop.