“Is everything okay?” the Asian woman asked.
“He thought he saw his wife fall into the hole,” the Middle Eastern man said, a small half smile on his lips.
“I’m sure it was just your imagination,” the Asian woman said. “The thing gives me the creeps, I’ll tell you that.”
“Yeah, maybe,” Embry said, not at all sure it was his imagination. He suspected it could be the cancer. Maybe it had finished ravaging his insides and had moved up into his brain to see what kind of damage it could cause up there. Either way, he had developed a definite dislike for the sinkhole. There was something unnatural about it, something… sinister.
“Come on, back to the house,” Hannah said, hooking her arm through his and leading him away from the watching crowd. Embry allowed himself to be led, trying to decide if what he’d seen was real or a trick. He glanced into the crowd, and saw the Brewster kid from across the street, staring and holding another one of those damn jars of his..
Chapter Two
Morgan crept down the hallway, making sure to avoid the creaking floorboards. He paused outside his mother’s bedroom and listened to the rhythmic sounds of her snoring. Satisfied, he forged on and slipped downstairs. The shadows were deep and pure, but he was not afraid. He waded through the gloom, his familiarity with the house making it easy for him to navigate.
The light was better down here, the yellow-orange glow from the streetlights outside illuminating the kitchen. He didn’t switch on the light; he knew his way enough in the dark. He could do it with his eyes closed if he had to. He walked past the table where he ate breakfast and to the basement door. He opened it without hesitation and flicked on the light switch. A soft, yellow glow bathed the wooden steps. He closed the door softly behind him and descended.
No matter how many times he came here, it made him smile. This was his secret place. He cast his eyes on his collection and walked towards the dog-eared armchair laced with cobwebs. He sat in the chair and tucked his knees up to his chin.
The shelves around the edges of the room were filled with jars, and inside were his prize possessions. He had spent a long time collecting them, his beloved spiders. He had hoped he wouldn’t have to, but they were strong tonight, and he would have to send one down the hole. He hated to do it, but there was no other way. It would be okay as long as he could keep finding them, but they were becoming harder to find, especially if they didn’t want to be found. He cast his eyes over the jars, reciting the names of the spiders in his head. He locked onto one of them, an old coffee jar with a red lid, and knew that he had found the one.
It was always this way. There was no changing it. He always just knew. That was how it worked.
He crossed to the red-lidded jar and scooped it up, pressing his nose against the glass as he tapped his finger on the lid. The spider skitter-jerked across the smooth surface and stood there, waiting.
Morgan smiled and hugged the jar close to his body.
Yes.
This was definitely the right one.
He headed back upstairs, turned out the light, and closed the door.
II
“You don’t have the balls for it.” Candy said as she looked Eddie up and down.
“Don’t dare me; you know I’ll do it.”
“Bullshit you will. You’re not that drunk, yet.”
Eddie grinned, the bravado oozing out of his pores as he shifted gear, the cherry red Camaro growling in response as it accelerated.
“I swear to you, I’ll do it. I have my climbing gear in the back. The question is,” he said with a smile, snatching a quick look at the crop top that she was almost spilling out of. “What will you, do for me?”
Candy smiled and flicked her blonde hair out of her eyes. “Everything,” she said, grabbing his crotch across the seat.
“Holy shit, you got a deal, baby. I’ll do it right now.”
She released her grip and looked at him, as he shifted into fourth, towards the hole on Maple Street that had been all over the news.
Eddie parked the Camaro around the corner and was about to get out when Candy leaned across the seat and grabbed his arm.
“Look, you don’t need to do it, okay? You proved your point.”
She looked scared, and Eddie liked that just fine. He was sure that he would look an even bigger hero after it was done. He turned to her and flashed his best smile, the one he saved for girls like Candy.
“Look, this is nothing to worry about babe. I’ll go down there and take a look, see how deep this bitch goes.”
“Let’s just forget it. We can find a bar, get a drink or something.”
“And have you tell everyone I lost my nerve? No thanks.”
She grabbed him and kissed him hard, probing into his mouth with her tongue. She could taste booze and mint from his chewing gum. He could taste her fear, a heady, sweet-sour taste. She came up for air and gripped his face in her hands.
“Look, forget it. I’ll still do you, I was going to anyway. You don’t have to impress me.”
“Oh yeah?” he asked, flashing a grin. “Prove it.”
She smiled and reached over, unbuttoning his jeans.
“You asked for it, Eddie.”
She leaned her head over the seat, and Eddie closed his eyes. He couldn’t believe his luck.
III
Morgan opened the door quietly, keen to make sure he didn’t disturb his mother. It was a warm night, and a light breeze ruffled his hair as he went outside. He pulled the door closed behind him and turned towards the hole. It looked to have grown even bigger since the morning, and he crossed to it quickly, making sure to keep a tight grip on the jar. He approached the edge, and a woozy dizziness came over him as he stared into the black depths. It seemed different at night. Without the crowds and the noise, there was a different vibe, one he, more than anyone knew all about. A light breeze pushed out of the hole, a hot breath of some slumbering beast which made Morgan wrinkle his nose. He looked up and down the length of the street at the houses which were dark and silent like graveyard tombs housing the dead. He held his breath, and apart from the steady drone of traffic in the distance, there was absolute silence. He clicked his finger against the jar as his stomach began to quiver.
Tap tap. Tap tap.
He licked his lips, and held the jar up in front of him, rotating it in his hands, wishing he didn’t have to do what he was about to do. Another breeze drifted from the hole, and the smell was stronger now. It smelled like the dead cat he had found under the porch, the one that had been there all summer and was rotten and covered with maggots when he discovered it.
Not much time.
He shuffled on his knees to the very edge, a few loose stones falling into the abyss. He held the jar out in front of him and closed his eyes, preparing himself for what was to come. It was the way it was, and the way it had to be.
IV
Candy finished and lit a cigarette as Eddie fastened his jeans.
“Holy shit, baby. That was something else,” he said, a cocky grin plastered across his face.
Candy smiled, her eyes nervously flicking to the window. Although it was around the corner and out of sight, she could almost sense the hole, and it scared her.
“I’m glad you liked it, Eddie. Now let’s go, okay?”
“Absolutely babe, whatever you say. Just as soon as I take a quick look in this hole.”
“Eddie, no. You promised.”
He didn’t answer; instead, he climbed out of the car and opened the trunk, taking out the large roll of rope. Candy climbed out of the car, stalking towards him.
“You said you wouldn’t,” she whined.
“No, I didn’t. Do you remember me saying I wouldn’t go ahead?”
“But, I don’t want you to.”
“I’m not scared.”
“Well I am,” she whispered.
He hesitated for a second, and she thought that on some level, below the macho bullshit and bravado, he was scared, too. He had jus
t put himself in a position where his pride wouldn’t let him talk his way out of it. He closed the trunk and locked the car.
“Come on, let’s go take a look,” he said, tipping her a wink.
She started to protest, but he was already walking up hill towards the hole.
V
Tap tap. Tap tap
The jar felt cold in his hands, and even though the night air was warm, the breeze on his skin had a chill which raised goose bumps. Morgan shuffled, adjusting his position. He was ready now, and as much as he hated to do it, it was time. He relaxed his body and was about to release his grip when he heard the voices coming towards him. He opened his eyes and ran back towards the house. He went inside and walked to the window in the sitting room, watching from the edge of the curtain.
Eddie strode towards the hole, Candy behind him and begging him not to go ahead. He dropped the rope at the lip of the hole and stood with his hands on his hips.
“See, nothing to worry about. It’s just a hole in the ground.”
Although the words sounded confident, his expression was anything but, as his eyes darted around.
“This is a bad idea,” Candy said, hugging herself against the chill in the air.
“Nah, this is a great idea,” he said, taking off his jacket and putting it around her shoulders.
“This won’t take long; I just wanna take a look.”
“Why? So you can brag to Mike and the rest of those asshole buddies of yours?”
“No, because I want to do it!” he spat, glaring at her.
“Fine, then do it. But I’m not going to stand here and watch. I’ll wait for you in the car.”
She turned on her heel and stormed back down the hill. He watched her go, and his gut told him to follow her, that she was a good one and probably the best thing he would ever have in his life, but if there was one thing about Eddie, he was stubborn. He snorted to himself and picked up the rope. He tied one end securely around a nearby lamppost and made a basic rappel loop around his legs.
Morgan watched from his window, and although he knew something bad was about to happen, he knew he couldn’t interfere. Instead, he watched, and tapped.
Tap tap. Tap tap.
Eddie tested the rope, making sure it would hold his weight, and then leaned back over the edge of the hole. Now that he was hanging over its edge, and with his girlfriend out of sight, the confidence melted from his face, and his fear took over. His heart raced, and the blood pounded thickly in his temples. He prepared to lower himself when he thought he saw a flash of movement below. He held his breath and stared into the darkness. He could see nothing, but was aware of how small and vulnerable he was, balancing ass first over a hole that looked from his vantage point to be bottomless. He wrinkled his nose at the awful stench that billowed out of the gaping maw and finally decided that Candy was right. There was nothing to prove, and even though people in movies did stupid things like this all the time, he wasn’t so dumb.
“Fuck this,” he muttered to himself, as he pulled himself back towards safety.
It happened quickly, but Morgan Brewster saw it because he knew it was coming. A flash of color, a lighter shade of dark against the opaque depths, and Eddie was snatched from his rope into the hole. There was no scream, no sound at all. As quickly as it had arrived, the shape had gone.
Eddie’s rope hung over the lip of the hole, swaying gently before coming to a halt. Morgan watched and tapped his jar, then held it up in front of his eyes, looking at this small black occupant. He took the jar, walked back to the kitchen, into the cellar, and put it back on the shelf where he got it. It would be safe tonight, and his spider would keep for another day. He smiled, caressing the jar lovingly, then headed back upstairs, turned out the light and went back to bed.
VI
Meredith Brewster woke up in the middle of the night. Her son, Morgan, was tucked in bed. Earlier, she thought she heard rapping noises in the foyer and something skittering overhead, but when she went to investigate, her son was fast asleep. As she dozed in between the waking world and the dream state, she wondered why her son was transferring the jars from his bedroom into the cellar.
Why was he collecting them to begin with? That was the real question.
Twenty jars rested throughout his room, on top of desks, nightstand, bureaus, and book shelves. They looked empty. Some were grimy, blanketed by years of settling dust. Others had scratches on the inner surface of the glass. Whilst leaving her son’s bedside, she saw something flicker in one of them. A tall spider fiddled its front leg, trying to escape from its prison. She shuddered, wondering how Morgan could sleep with something like that in his room. She hurried out of the door, shutting it, and bringing the dream to an end with an exhale
VII
Meredith bolted awake when she felt something cold playing with her hair. It shimmied down her legs, and then the strange electrifying sensation disappeared. In the gloom, she saw a woman standing in the far corner. She was dressed in a white, an almost a party gown. Her face was compressed, squashed to one side. Her skull was crushed; she looked as though she’d landed on her head. A streak of blood splashed the front of her dress.
The woman in the white apparel extended her arms, reaching for support. Her fingers unfurled, opening and closing, as they hooked into a claw. And, Meredith realized the woman seemed to be falling. The way the dressed billowed out and her hair swelled around her, flapping in an imaginary breeze, her mouth wide open in a strangulated angle, it appeared real, right before her eyes, a scene reenacted like the vestige of an old reel.
Meredith shrieked in a high-pitched voice, jerking the bed covers to her chin. She was naked save for a t-shirt and panties, and blindly fumbled for the lamp light. She snapped it on. The figure was gone.
She began to wonder if the phantom was nothing but her mind playing tricks on her, perhaps the remains of a half remembered dream. The idea that someone could have entered the house freaked her out even more. Her breath came in shallow and ragged gasps, and she knew she’d have to check if the front entrance was locked she intended to get any sleep at all.
She crawled out of bed. The sheets rustled. She could just about make out the contours of a body under the blanket, her fiancé, Donald, who slept soundlessly and undisturbed. Meredith walked through the house, checking the doors and windows. Everything was locked. The house was secure.
She returned to her bed and climbed in, settling down and closing her eyes, drifting into an uncomfortable sleep. Someone straddled her, cupping a hand on her left breast. It was light and familiar, a gesture she recognized from a time almost forgotten. In the dark, she imagined she could hear throaty, labored breathing. Slowly, the sounds became frenetic as she felt her panties slide down to her ankles and something warm and hard enter her from behind. It throbbed, and she smiled, mumbling in her sleep, “Baby, I love you.” It drove deep inside her. “I miss you. Baby, just like that. Oh god, that feels good.”
Her orgasm was powerful and a restless sleep soon followed. She turned over on her side and began snoring.
Something parted her moist flesh and crawled out.
Chapter three
In the morning, Meredith poured herself a bowl of cereal. The milk swirled into the bowl, crackling the frosted wheat checkered squares. She sat down at the table, rubbing her temples to try and sate the headache. She dipped her spoon in the liquid, winched a mass of sodden muesli, and chewed. It crunched in her mouth. Each bite worked her lower jaw muscles, triggering fresh pain that spiked up her temporal lobe.
Her eyes watered.
What in God’s name happened last night? She thought.
She had awakened early to take Morgan to school. On her way home, she grabbed a cup of coffee at a fast food chain. Sipping the hot java, she heard her stomach rumbling. She was awfully hungry; she didn’t know why. Usually, she didn’t eat breakfast, but for some reason, all her energy felt sapped.
She scooped another spoonful of cereal and jammed it in he
r mouth. She ground her teeth, crushing the wheat-sized meal with the incisors and back molars, and swallowed. The front door opened and closed.
“Morgan actually likes this stuff?” she said, aloud, to no one in particular.
Footsteps made their way up the entrance into the dining room where Meredith was seated. She chewed without looking up. She knew who it was even before his voice filled the quarters.
“Hey, what’s wrong with Wheaties?” Donald Sheridan asked.
“It’s too sugary,” she replied to her fiancé of six months. Don sat down.
“Nothing wrong with sugar,” he said.
“What are you doing here?”
“I’m here to propose to you,” he joked.
Meredith glared at Don. For the past several weeks, Don was busy with work and he couldn’t come for his regular visits. The fact he finally got down on his knees and proposed two years after dating almost caused her an aneurism. Now, that they were engaged Donald Sheridan thought he could just come and go as he pleased as if this was his own house.
“You think that’s funny?” she asked.
“Do you see me laughing?” he countered.
“You know how I feel about marriage.”
“Yeah—yeah,” Don said, digging in the cereal carton, and popping a few squares into his mouth. “Is Morgan here?”
“He’s at school.”
“Already? I thought it was still vacation.”
“No,” Meredith said. “Today was his first day back after the holidays.” She lifted the bowl with two hands and drank the milk from the source. She was about halfway done when a big, black, hairy blob surfaced to the top. It was a dead spider floating, winy legs curled under its abdomen, bobbing upside down.
Her heart stopped.
The spider spread its legs.
She reeled back, screeching, and flung the bowl across the room.
“What the hell’s wrong with you?” Don asked, getting up from his chair. “That was your favorite bowl.”
The Void Page 2
