by Kevin Guest
Anderson and the girls stood outside the gate, watching the cloud of smoke. It rose then suddenly turned to the east in the shearing winds of the atmosphere. There were no sounds of any kind. The silence worried the group, and they each independently prayed to hear a fire truck, ambulance, or police car. As they prayed, Fletcher emerged with the cart.
Anderson climbed into the passenger’s side and the girls loaded up in the back. Once they were secure, Fletcher hit the accelerator. The cart was not used to so much weight, but it slowly gained speed. Fletcher kept the pedal floored, any let-up and the electric motor could not pull the weight.
The cart bounced down the pot-holed dirt road. The girls looked at the Morgue as they passed it. They held on tight as they were jostled back and forth. The cart turned onto the lead-in road and the bumps smoothed out as the cart picked up speed. In the distance, they could see cows grazing, just beyond the tree line. They had not noticed them when they came in yesterday. After everything they had experienced, seeing the cows was a comforting sight.
Finally, after what seemed an eternity, they reached the outer barricades. Fletcher hopped off and opened them as Anderson scooted into the driver’s side. He pushed the pedal and drove the cart through; Fletcher then closed the barricades and bounded into the passenger side.
As they drove north on Houston School Road, they could see the smoke ahead. The ride seemed to take forever; the small cart could not manage more than ten miles per hour, though it was doing much better on the smoother surface.
† † †
Mary closed her eyes. “Please don’t let me be in the chapel, please,” she begged. As she opened her eyes, she was outside, though time had moved forward. She turned and the house was complete! Not only that, but it was surrounded by a wonderful landscape of shrubs and flowers. In addition, the yard was well groomed and maintained.
As she looked at the front door, she was surprised to see that it was not the heavy industrial door she knew. Instead, it was a beautifully hand-carved double door with ornate bronze handles.
As she entered the house, she noticed it was not yet complete, but the staircase and the upstairs were present. She could tell the carpenters were still carving out some of the detailing on the railing. Just as before, she had never seen a construction site like this. In her time, there were architectural plans and permits, but this house and all its décor were built directly on the lot and designed as they went.
The amazing handcrafted architecture was stunning. She felt so fortunate to be able to see the house as it was in the beginning. Unfortunately, her tour ended in the dining room.
“Good afternoon Mrs. Sharp.”
Mary gazed at a woman of extreme wealth. She sat at an ornate dining room table, sipping tea. She poured another glass and pushed it toward her. “Please, sit down, Mrs. Sharp, we have much to discuss.”
Just as before, against her will, her body walked over and involuntarily sat down, partaking of the tea.
“I received your letter and decided it was best for me to view the circumstances on my own.”
Mary said something, but it was inaudible. Only her thoughts remained under her control.
“Yes, I too am sorry of the events that have taken place.”
Inaudible speaking.
“As you can understand, those from my society would not look kindly on this development. It is about our stature and place within the proper society. I can see you’re also a woman of culture and should understand the predicament we both have been deceived into.”
Inaudible speaking.
“It should be done here. They should find him here. No one knows of my travels. I can protect you, but you must do as I say, for now.”
Inaudible speaking.
“Yes, I can and shall, until then.”
Mary watched as the woman left the house. Again, the scenery changed. She found herself outside, picking flowers. She was careful to select only those of high quality and full bloom. She placed the flowers in a basket. Once she was done, she walked into the house and began laying them on the floor. Involuntarily, she made a trail of flowers from the entrance, into the living room, on each of the stairs, across the balcony, and into the far room. There she waited, but only for a moment. The sound of a man was heard. He was walking up the stairs slowly, suspecting nothing. She saw his shadow approach the door and she became nervous. He walked in, smiling. “My darling, what a wonderful romantic you are!”
Out of the shadows came the woman. “Is she, now?”
He looked at her in shock. How could she know? How could this have happened?
He froze as she walked behind him and closed the door. “Is this what you want, two wives? Why not just ask me? I would have given you one of our maids. Why have you done this?”
“I—”
As he began to speak, she revealed the axe she had hidden behind her back. With purpose, she swung it violently and struck him in the back. He screamed and fell to the floor, face first. Mary involuntarily grabbed another axe and swung, severing his left arm.
The woman walked around him. “How dare you do this to me, James! How could you put our lifestyle at such risk?”
He put his hand up, tears streaming down his face, “Please…”
She swung, chopping off his hand. The limb rolled into the corner as blood spattered all over the wall.
Mary swung and dug the axe deep into his side.
Back and forth they went until he was reduced to a pile of chopped-up flesh.
† † †
The golf cart came to a halt in the intersection of Reindeer Road and Houston School. Two trucks, smoking and burned, lay on their sides in the ditch, both on the west side of the road. The group rushed down and was instantly sickened by the sight.
Blood dripped from both cabs. The windshields were shattered and covered in blood. The vehicles had obviously met in the intersection at a high rate of speed. It was unclear who was at fault, but it no longer mattered.
All they could do was watch as the fire spread into the interiors of both cabs. The heat was too intense to attempt a rescue. A moment later, a voice from inside the fire screamed in agonizing pain, but then fell silent.
Only the sound of the crackling fire remained. The stunned investigators could only watch from a distance. As the fires grew hotter, they had to back up. Suddenly one of the gas tanks exploded.
There was so much going on that it took the group a moment to gather their thoughts. Finally, Jessie finally reached into her back pocket, retrieved her phone, and called 911.
“Red Oak 911, what’s the emergency?”
“Two trucks have collided in the intersection of Houston School and Reindeer Road.”
“Thank you ma’am; is anyone injured?”
“Yes ma’am, the occupants are deceased.”
“Ok, I am sending fire and rescue immediately. Can I get your name?”
“Jessie McDougal.”
“Thank you, Jessie, can I record your number for a call back if necessary?”
“Yes ma’am.”
“Thank you, would you like me to stay on the line ‘til help arrives?”
“No ma’am, that will not be necessary.”
“Thank you, have a good day.”
She hung up the phone as Anderson walked across the intersection. The stop sign was missing from Reindeer Road. It was in the ditch, the pole still standing. He carefully walked into the ditch, trying not to get his cane stuck. The bolts on the sign were missing. He scanned the area and found them. They had been sheared in two, as if a saw had cut them.
Moments later, the unmistakable sounds of police cars, ambulances, and fire trucks were heard. The group stood in the road and watched as the emergency vehicles sped toward them.
As the vehicles arrived, the emergency personnel quickly swarmed the trucks, and doused the fire. However, their pace slowed once they realized the victims were deceased.
They switched into recovery mode and quickly loaded the burned corpses into the ambulance. Their speed in cleaning up the sight was phenomenal. Anderson thought, If only they could clean up accidents on Interstate seventy-five like this.
In a span of ten minutes, the trucks were loaded onto flat beds and hauled away. Only the police remained to interview the group. Anderson explained that they were guests of Andy’s and had heard the impact. They rushed over to give aid, but it was too late. He explained about the stop sign and the sheared bolts.
† † †
Mary screamed as she woke in a cold sweat. She found herself laying face down on the cold floor. Though she felt it was only a dream, the associated guilt was overwhelming. She cried for Mr. Sharp, sorry for what she had done. Suddenly she felt that even in the deepest part of her mind, she was not safe.
She stood and quickly turned on the light. At the foot of her bed was the luggage. Her clothes were strewn everywhere about the room. The luggage had been completely emptied! As she looked about the room, everything was a mess. All of the dresser drawers were flung about the room; even the bedding lay on the floor.
As she moved into the bathroom, she was shocked at the sight in the mirror! She was completely naked! Scratches and teeth marks ran from the top of her head to the bottom of her feet. She put her hands over her mouth as she cried, but she was too terrified to scream. She had to leave.
As she stepped into the hallway, she had the uncontrollable urge to go to the stairs. Though she was still naked, her terror overwhelmed her sense of modesty.
Just as she was compelled to act in her dream, she was also compelled to descend the staircase. Her thoughts seemed to abandon her as her mind tried to make sense of it all. As she walked down, it felt more like gliding, as if something was assisting her descent. Once she got to the bottom, she glanced at the snowy monitors but continued toward the dining room.
She walked through the dining room, and into the kitchen, then into the chapel. As she entered, the candles lit themselves and soft music from an absent organ began to play. She sat in the pew and picked up the novel. She ignored the text, focusing only on the margins, the pictures of debauchery, incantations, spells, and potions.
One by one she scanned them, committing them to memory. When she had seen every page, she stood. Whatever was controlling her movements released her and she suddenly she knew where she was. The candles blew out and she stood in total darkness.
Remembering where the light switch was, she dashed over, and turned on the light. A dark figure stood before the pentagram. It was the shape of a man, looking up at the horrid object. Slowly its head turned and looked at her. It was transparent, as if it was made of a light grey smoke.
Terror over took her and she screamed, but there was no one to hear her.
The entity moved toward her and she backed into the kitchen. “Stay away!” She screamed. Her hopes of safety were dashed as the figure emerged into the kitchen, staring at her. She turned and ran, through the dining room, the living room, and to the front door, but it was locked. She banged and banged, but no one answered and the door would not budge.
Slowly, she entered the living room and saw the figure waiting for her. She quickly ran up the stairs, turning to see the figure was in pursuit. She ran to the first bedroom door, but it slammed shut in her face. She ran to her bedroom, but that door slammed shut.
The figure kept coming, finally reaching the top of the stairs. Mary backed away. “What do you want?”
No response.
She continued to back away until she backed into the last door. She reached for the door handle and it opened. Quickly, she dashed into the dark room and slammed the door shut.
† † †
As the police were talking, Anderson suddenly came to the horrific realization they had left Mary alone. He wrapped up his conversation and hurried the group back onto the cart. They took off for the manor in silence. This had easily been the most disturbing week of their lives.
This time when Fletcher stepped out to open the barricades, they would not budge. The chains had wrapped themselves so tightly around the bars he could not free them. At the same time, the golf cart went dead, its battery was exhausted from the excessive weight it was forced to haul. Anderson stepped out and walked to the barricades. He stepped over and began walking toward the manor. Jessie called out, “What about the cart?”
“Leave it!” he yelled.
† † †
The room was dark and well below freezing. Mary knew where she was: this was where James Sharp died; this was where she killed him. The house creaked and strained, as if it was bending in a heavy wind.
With an expression of horror, Mary watched the door handle slowly turn. The entity was taking its time, torturing her, making her wait.
She backed as far into the room as she could. She cowered there, like a frightened animal, crying, pleading for mercy, invoking the name of God, but it did no good. The door handle stopped turning. For a moment, she felt relief that she had escaped. But her hopes were dashed when the grey figure emerged through the door.
“Please, don’t hurt me,” she begged.
No response.
It floated directly to her, then entered her body. She screamed as her vitals were mashed and twisted. Violently and repeatedly, she slammed her head against the wall. She screamed for help, pleaded for anything, but nothing was there to save her. Dizziness overtook her; the room appeared to be spinning. A pounding headache sent pain rippling through her body. It felt as if she was being sliced from the back of her neck to her eyeballs, from the inside.
She fell to her knees, gnawing on her wrist, trying to bite through. She flew back and her head slammed against the floor. She scratched at her arms, neck, and chest. She looked at herself and saw insects crawling all over her, stinging, biting, and entering her body.
“Stop it! Stop it! Stop it” she screamed.
The entity would not let her go.
† † †
