Blaire’s breath caught in her throat at Ivan’s suggestion. She was frightened of the basement and all that had taken place there, but she didn’t think that Natalka knew of this elevator. If that were so, then Ivan was right, and Travis would be safe there.
“How did you know this was here?” Blaire asked.
“I’ve been here before,” the boy answered.
In the basement, Blaire found a suitable hiding place for Travis behind a shelf that housed a couple of old books, some broken figurines, and a dingy jump rope. She rested for a moment, and then looked up to see the boy slumped over.
“What happened to you, Ivan?” Blaire asked as she got to her knees. Ivan winced as she moved his gown back to reveal two evenly spaced wounds in his shoulder. Blaire searched the dirty basement floor frantically as the wounds continued to gush blood. A few feet away, she found boxes marked “clothes,” and ripped one open, pulling out a t-shirt, which she pressed firmly against the wound. She used a second t-shirt to tie around and secure the first.
“It hurts,” he mumbled.
“I know,” Blaire told him, as she grabbed the pipe from the wheelchair. “I have to go back up. I have to help Anya and the other children. I’m gonna get some supplies, and then I will be back for you. Find a place to hide down here and stay put.”
Blaire rolled the metal shelf back in front of the elevator once she stepped out into the kitchen, and then she started toward the stairs. At the corner of the hall, Blaire paused and ducked low to peer down toward Travis’ office; she listened. When she was sure that there was no one, she crept into his office and closed the door behind her. She searched the room, grabbed a cloth bag from the back of Travis’ chair, and then placed the chair up against the knob of the door. Quietly, Blaire began filling the bag with gauze, bandage tape, alcohol, and anything else that she could find that she thought may be of use. In one of the drawers, Blaire found several packages of syringes, grabbed a handful, and dumped them into her bag. Then she ran to the closet and opened the door where she found several vials of the powerful painkiller that Latif had obtained. Blaire filled one of the syringes with it and placed the other vials in her bag. Just as she removed the chair from under the door knob, she heard Anya scream.
Blaire threw open the door, raced up the stairs, and stopped on the second floor. She listened for more noises. Again, Anya screamed, and Blaire’s eyes narrowed in on the broom closet whose door was jammed with a chair. Dislodging the chair, Blaire released a hysterical Anya who burst from inside the tiny dark space covered in blood.
Grabbing Anya firmly, Blaire did her best to focus the frantic woman. “Did Natalka do this?
Anya was suddenly quiet.
“Anya!” Blaire shook the woman violently.
“Yes, yes!” Anya whimpered. “I heard a child crying and I came out. She hit me with a hammer.” Wounds on Anya’s head and neck were bleeding profusely.
“Where is she, Anya?”
“The footsteps went that way,” Anya said as she pointed to the room where Blaire had put the children. Already ajar, the door creaked open further, a black bobby pin, with one remaining pink jewel, sticking out from the lock.
Blaire stepped into the room and it was silent, filled with children, but deafeningly quiet, frozen in a block of icy fear. None of the little ones moved, none of them rocked, they hardly blinked, and the room seemed lit only with the whites of their eyes.
The children watched closely as Blaire crept through the room, pipe in hand with Anya close at her back. Danya leapt from the bed and wrapped herself around Anya’s waist for comfort. Blaire was startled but quickly returned her attention back to the closet at the far end of the room. Her hand was trembling as she held it out to slide the door open, her other hand gripping the pipe tighter. A choral gasp swept the room as she shoved the door open.
A primeval screech exploded from Natalka as she sprang from the closet. The room erupted into screams as the girl lunged at Blaire, driving her out into the hall. Fierce pain exploded in Blaire’s back as she collided forcefully with the hallway wall and fell to the floor, the pipe flying across the corridor. Blaire could barely breathe as she grasped and scratched at Natalka’s hands, growing ever tighter around her neck. Everything seemed to be fading just before Blaire saw Anya’s face and heard a scream. Air filled Blaire’s dry throat, and she sucked in all that she could, while her hands shot up to massage her throbbing neck, at last free of the strangler’s grasp. Natalka screamed and reeled from the blow to the head that Anya delivered with the pipe. Blaire saw the drug-filled syringe roll out of her bag toward the steps. Natalka was disoriented momentarily, but was regaining her venom and consciousness with every passing second.
“Lock the door!” Anya shouted to Bo, who she saw standing in the doorway of room 2D. Anya helped Blaire to her feet, and by the time they were both standing, Natalka was raging toward them. As both women shot out down the hall, Blaire dipped swiftly to pick up the syringe, and then they scrambled down the staircase with the wild girl close behind them. Just as they hit the bottom step, Anya lost her footing, slipped, and fell hard, banging her head against the last step, allowing the pipe in her hand to go rolling down the hall. Blaire turned back to help her up, just before Natalka pounced down into the spot where Anya’s head was lying just a moment before.
“Anya, come on!” Blaire heard herself screaming just as the pair was stumbling into the kitchen. Suddenly, Blaire stopped. She realized that everything was completely quiet. There were no more wild screams, no rapid animal-like footsteps chasing them, and now she was even more frightened than she had been before.
“Where is she?” Anya asked.
“I don’t know,” Blaire said, once again herding the woman toward the back of the kitchen, where she moved the shelves and pressed the elevator button frantically. The cage opened immediately. Both women jumped into the elevator, and Blaire pressed the button for the basement, while staring out into the wide-open kitchen. Both she and Anya were dripping with perspiration. Blaire bit the plastic top off the syringe and held it like a knife.
“Where is she? I thought she was behind us!” Anya wondered out loud, panting wildly.
Blaire watched diligently, saying nothing as the doors began to close.
Natalka’s screech sounded through the elevator just before she came charging in with a large kitchen knife. Natalka threw herself upon Anya just as the doors closed. Blaire tried to pierce the girl with the syringe, but she was thrashing too wildly. Anya was screaming and using every bit of strength that she had to keep the girl from plunging the knife into her chest. Grabbing Natalka’s hair, Blaire flung the girl backward, thrusting Blaire into the opposite elevator wall, causing her to collapse. Warm, salty liquid filled Blaire’s mouth. The elevator dinged, the doors spread open, and Anya tried to make a run for it, but Natalka plunged the knife into Anya’s back several times causing her to sink and fold halfway out of the elevator onto the basement floor. Blaire dove toward Natalka plunging the needle deep into her neck to dispense the powerful drug. Natalka flailed in response to the puncture, throwing her arms madly and slicing a deep cut into Blaire’s thigh. Blaire swung at the weapon sending it sailing out of the elevator.
Blaire shrieked as she fell back against the elevator wall again, grabbing her leg in pain as warm blood gushed through her fingers. She scurried out of the elevator over Natalka, who was distracted by the work of removing the needle from her neck. On the floor Blaire found another one of the t-shirts from the clothing box and wrapped it tightly around her leg as she moved through the dim basement.
“Ivan!” Blaire called in a whisper as she crawled over to Travis’ hidden wheelchair, while Natalka extracted the syringe from her neck and threw it across the room. Cautiously, the mad girl lifted herself from the floor and looked around.
Blaire pulled herself up next to the wheelchair and could barely stifle her cry when she saw the unmistakable pale hue of Travis’ skin. Tears tumbled down her face as she
shook him quietly, but he didn’t move, and she knew he had finally made the only escape possible.
“Ms. Baker, why did you do that?” Natalka cried, once again the sweet and innocent little girl that Blaire had met in her first week at St. Sebastian.
Blaire cupped her hand over her mouth to hold in her cries.
“Ms. Baker…I don’t feel so well, will you help me?”
Her voice was getting closer. Blaire peeked through the shelves to catch a glimpse of the girl. She pressed tighter against the wall, trying to silence her breathing and trying to forget about the deep pain in her thigh.
Blaire and Natalka spotted Ivan at the same moment, his little foot sticking out from beneath the cloth that hid the under cabinets of the old sink. Blaire exploded from her hiding place just as Natalka ripped Ivan from under the sink to hold his small body up in the air. Ivan was thrashing with all his limbs when suddenly one arm rose high in the air, and both Blaire and Natalka saw that he was holding the syringe that Natalka had pulled from her throat. He plunged the syringe down into her eye, causing Natalka to wail and throw the boy across the room with supernatural strength. The splintering crack of his skull, as it bounced off the hard cement floor, sent chills through Blaire.
“Ivan,” Blaire screamed just before she was tripped by Natalka as the half-blinded girl hit the floor after being stabbed. Natalka scrambled along the floor in an attempt to get to Blaire, who scurried backward doing her best to get out of the reach of the psychotic girl who refused to give up. Blaire looked around for something to grab as she scuttled along the floor and tried to reach out for the knife, but it was just out of reach. Natalka grabbed for the knife. The power of the drug was beginning to slow Natalka, but she had one last pump of adrenaline left in her as she lifted herself slightly off the floor to lunge onto Blaire who had been forced to stop as she collided with Travis’ wheelchair. Blaire was screaming and her hands were fumbling for anything with which she could defend her life. Something came into her hand, a jump rope and she snatched it down and wrapped it tightly around Natalka’s neck just as the deranged girl landed on top of her. With all the strength left in her body, Blaire pulled the rope as tight as she could. Their faces were inches from one another now. Both of Natalka’s hands went up to her neck as she fought with the small rope, gasping for air. Blaire screamed out trying to summon the energy to finish it. Wrapping the excess rope around each of her hands, Blaire stiffened her grip, pulling so tightly now that her own hands were writhing in pain. Blaire watched as the life drained from the little girl through her one sparkling eye. Blaire squeezed her eyes closed, and the tears dripped out as she sucked the last bit of precious life from the once innocent child.
“No!” Blaire screamed as Natalka weakened into a lifeless corpse.
Blaire released a sob as she rested against the wheelchair and allowed the rope to release from around her hands and from Natalka’s neck.
Blaire’s mouth was bubbling with thick, sweet blood. Her freed hands felt along her stomach to a place of tremendous pressure. The handle from the butcher’s knife protruded from her abdomen.
You can’t escape the curse.
Blaire cried out in frustration, spitting blood as she looked around the basement at all of the darkness and death that surrounded her, and then she looked into her lap once again. Blaire pulled the syringe from Natalka’s eye and closed her eyelids.
It was getting harder for Blaire to breath. Somewhere in one of the many rooms of St. Sebastian “Dream a Little Dream” began to play again, and it was close and comforting even if it were only in her mind. No pain, but there was a warmth that started in the tips of her toes and began to flow over her, up, up, up and away; she felt her eyes fluttering to a close. There in the basement she felt the heat from the fire, and from the hot sun on her face. The door of the burning car opened, and a young Blaire squinted her eyes under the harsh rays of the sun to see only black smoke billowing from inside the charred vehicle, and with no one to hold her back anymore, she walked toward it with a fresh and unfamiliar confidence. Blaire smiled as her mother emerged from the black smoke. Her skin still singed and burning, revealing patches of red flesh. The woman twisted the features of her burnt and bleeding face into an enigmatic grin as she welcomed her daughter to the other side of Black Water. Her mother reached out and Blaire fell happily into the fleshy arms that dragged her back into the black smoke as the basement around her faded to black.
CHAPTER FORTY FOUR
The next morning the sun rose in its own sweet time, melting the snow away little by little, and, as it inched up midway to the top of the sky, the children began awakening and could see that the snow had ceased its hammering fall.
A truck rumbled up the drive in front of St. Sebastian and Hannah got out, waved goodbye to her ride and made her way up the steps through un-shoveled snow. Inside Hannah shook out her coat and hung it on a hook. She was halfway down the hall when she stopped suddenly, realizing that St. Sebastian was eerily quiet for this time of morning; it seemed as if the place were empty. Looking around, she noticed a photograph on the floor and stooped to pick it up. Hannah recognized the image of the American volunteer, Blaire Baker, with Ivan, despite the fact their faces were completely swirled in some photographic defect. She placed the picture in her pocket and continued up to the second floor.
“Vesna,” Hannah called out as she walked the empty hall cautiously, but she stopped when she noticed a creaking noise. She walked into the bathroom to see Vesna hanging from a pipe and let out a huge scream that she carried all the way back down the stairs, not bothering to look for the children. She grabbed her coat, threw it on making no attempt to close the front door of St. Sebastian behind her as she galloped clumsily through the leftover snow toward town.
At the urging of a hysterical Hannah, a group of men soon appeared at the orphanage. They made their way through the building where they discovered the children, and continued on following Ivan’s small blood trail that led them to the secret elevator shaft. They pressed the button, but the elevator would not move. Anya’s body still lay across the threshold of it not allowing the doors to close.
Jonathan Speckle opened Blaire’s letter.
Dear Jonathan:
Give my uncle and his wife whatever it is they want, and in the event of my death, the entirety of my remaining estate is to be left to St. Sebastian orphanage. Since coming to this home for unwanted children, I have realized that I was lost, but I’m finding myself again here, in these children.
Best regards,
Blaire.
Petro took a deep breath before breaking the locks off the basement door, opening it from the outside with a crowbar. When they opened the door to the basement, darkness assaulted them.
“Hello?” Petro yelled.
Light from outside floated into the void and slowly revealed the bodies of Travis, Anya, Ivan, Natalka, and Blaire. Their restless souls escaped into the light, into the open bright light of the world, and floated freely into the sky.
Mommy, mommy take me home, far away from the unknown. Pick me up and fly away into the light of another day. Rescue me from the halls of the haunted, the desperate, the evil, unloved, and unwanted.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
JeanNicole Rivers is a great lover of reading and writing. Although she loves varied genres, the horror/thriller genre is her favorite. JeanNicole has been writing poetry and short stories since she was a child, but has always aspired to master the art of storytelling through novels. The Unwanted is the second story in her series of Black Water Tales, following The Secret Keepers.
JeanNicole Rivers graduated from Florida International University with a bachelor of arts in philosophy, and she lives in Houston, Texas.
Become friends with her at www.facebook.com/JNicoleRivers. Follow her on Twitter @Jeannicole19. Check out her Instagram @Jeannicole19 or visit her at www.jeannicolerivers.com.
Table of Contents
TITLE PAGE
COPYRIGHT
/>
CONTENTS
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER NINE
CHAPTER TEN
CHAPTER ELEVEN
CHAPTER TWELVE
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
CHAPTER NINETEEN
CHAPTER TWENTY
CHAPTER TWENTY ONE
CHAPTER TWENTY TWO
CHAPTER TWENTY THREE
CHAPTER TWENTY FOUR
CHAPTER TWENTY FIVE
CHAPTER TWENTY SIX
CHAPTER TWENTY SEVEN
CHAPTER TWENTY EIGHT
CHAPTER TWENTY NINE
CHAPTER THIRTY
CHAPTER THIRTY ONE
CHAPTER THIRTY TWO
CHAPTER THIRTY THREE
CHAPTER THIRTY FOUR
CHAPTER THIRTY FIVE
CHAPTER THIRTY SIX
CHAPTER THIRTY SEVEN
CHAPTER THIRTY EIGHT
CHAPTER THIRTY NINE
CHAPTER FORTY
CHAPTER FORTY ONE
CHAPTER FORTY TWO
CHAPTER FORTY THREE
CHAPTER FORTY FOUR
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
The Unwanted (Black Water Tales Book 2) Page 27
