by Amy Cross
“Where did those wooden soldiers come from?”
“The...” I paused for a moment, trying to ignore the unsettled sensation in my gut. “The ones Lucy's playing with right now? It's kind of a long story, honey. I really don't want to get into it right now, but let's just say that -”
“I don't want her to have them.”
“Well, to be honest, that's fine. I have to mail them to a -”
“Can you take them away from her?”
“But -”
“Now, Michael? Please.”
I frowned. “Is there a problem?”
“I tried,” she continued, “but...” Her voice trailed off for a moment. “I tried to take them away from her, but she...” She paused, before reaching up and touching the scratch on the side of her face.
“Did Lucy do that to you?” I asked cautiously.
“It was an accident. She didn't mean to hurt me.”
“Lucy scratched your face?”
“She just...”
Pausing, she once again seemed lost in thought. After a moment, however, she started muttering to herself, although her voice was too quiet for me to hear what she was saying.
“Katie,” I said finally, “are you sure the -”
“I don't want them around,” she said suddenly, rubbing her shoulders and then starting to scratch either side of her neck. “I don't like them, Michael, they make the whole house feel strange. Can you just get rid of them?”
“They're just -”
“Get rid of them!” she hissed, turning to me with fear in her eyes. “Can you please take them away from her and get them away from our house? What the hell were you thinking, bringing them here in the first place?”
Sighing, I realized that there was no way of talking her down.
“Fine,” I muttered, trying not to sound too tetchy. I'd had enough discussions about the statues for one day, and all I wanted was to get rid of the damn things and never have to think about them again. “You sort out the books, and I'll take the statues away from Lucy. Hell, I can go post them back to the guy right now, if that's what you want. I'll drive straight to the post office.”
“I don't care what you do with them,” she replied, visibly shuddering, “but get them away from our family.”
“What's wrong with everyone today?” I muttered, heading to the door. “They're just two dumb little statues, that's all.”
Making my way out to the driveway, I saw that Lucas was sitting quietly in the shade, watching as Lucy played. Giving him a quick pat on the head, I couldn't help thinking that he shared my exasperation about the whole crazy situation. Approaching Lucy, I saw that she was mumbling away to herself as she pretended to make the two soldiers talk to each other. She had loads of other toys scattered about, most of them with flashing lights and all the latest gadgets kids were supposed to love, but two simple little wooden soldiers seemed to have captured her imagination.
“Sweetie,” I said, crouching next to her, “I hate to do this, but Daddy needs to take those now.”
She glanced at me for a moment, before shaking her head and then turning to resume her game.
“I have to send them back to the man who wants them,” I continued. “They're not mine. I'm just looking after them for someone.”
She shook her head again. “They're mine now.”
“Honey -”
“I want them,” she added, with tears in her eyes. “Please, Daddy, you can't take them away, not after you gave them to me.”
“I didn't give them to you, I just -”
“They're mine!” Gripping one soldier in each hand, I could see she was holding them tight. “You can't take them!”
“Everyone else can't wait to get rid of them,” I muttered, “but you're the opposite, huh?” I held my right hand out toward her. “Come on, game's over. You've got millions of other toys. You don't need these.”
I waited, but she simply turned and started playing again, almost as if she was trying to ignore me.
“Lucy, I'm serious.”
She mumbled something under her breath.
“Lucy, give me those toys right now.”
“No!”
“Lucy, I'm your father and I'm -”
“No!” she yelled. “They're mine and you can't have them!”
I opened my mouth to reply, but suddenly she turned her back to me and started playing with the soldiers again. She'd always been a good, obedient kid, and I'd never known her to defy me so openly before. Frankly, I'd taken pride in the fact that I'd rarely had to yell at her, and I'd always felt that she respected my authority. This time, however, something seemed different, and I figured I needed to nip her rebellious streak in the bud.
“Lucy,” I said firmly, “I'm being serious now, give me the toys.”
I waited, but there was no reply.
“Lucy,” I said again, “give me the toys.”
I waited.
“Lucy -”
“No, Daddy!” she hissed, still with her back to me. “Just leave me alone! I'm playing!”
I sighed.
“They're mine now,” she continued. “No-one else can have them!” She paused, before looking down at the toy in her left hand. “Why?” she asked after a moment. “What kind of fire?”
She turned to the other statue.
“I don't know how to do that. I'm only little, I don't think I'm old enough to try -”
She turned back to the first statue and waited, almost as if she was listening to something.
“I can try if you really want,” she said finally. “Can't you get someone else to do it, though? I'm just a kid.”
She paused.
“Okay, but you'll have to tell me how it works. I can't do it by myself.”
“Did you scratch Mommy's face?” I asked finally, feeling as if I was losing patience.
I waited, but she was holding one of the statues closer to her ear now, as if she expected it to whisper something.
“Lucy,” I continued, “I asked you a question. When Mommy asked you to give her the soldiers, did you scratch her face?” I waited, before reaching out to grab the statue.
“They're mine!” she hissed, pulling her hand away before I could get close enough.
“Did you scratch -”
“It's not my fault!” she continued, sounding annoyed. “Mommy thought she could take them away from me, but she can't! She's not allowed!”
“But it was an accident, right?”
I waited.
No reply.
“Lucy, you only scratched Mommy by accident, didn't you?” Glancing toward the house, I saw Katie staring out at us with fear in her eyes. Turning back to look at the back of Lucy's head, I realized she was ignoring me again.
I paused for a moment, before getting to my feet. The last thing I wanted was a confrontation, so I figured I'd try a more diplomatic approach.
“I'm going to go get Mr. Pandy from your bedroom,” I told her, “and I'm going to bring him out here, and you're going to play with him instead. You're going to give me the soldiers and play with your own toys. Do you understand?”
I waited, but once again she was ignoring me.
“I'll be back in two minutes,” I added, turning and heading toward the front door. I knew I could have handled the situation better, but I didn't want to be one of those parents who ends up shouting at his kid. As I reached the steps, I glanced at Lucas and saw a mournful, sad look in his eyes. “We're taking another trip to the post office,” I told him. “This afternoon. I'm gonna post those things back to the guy in Wisconsin and just get them out of our lives.” I hurried to the door, before looking back at the dog. “Not because they're evil, but because they're pissing me off! Just to make that clear.”
“I thought you were going to get them away from her!” Katie said as soon as I made my way inside.
“I'm in the process of doing that, honey.”
“You have to do it now!”
“I'm going to get Mr.
Pandy and -”
“I'll do it!” Pushing past me, Katie hurried out to the driveway.
“You don't have to be so -”
I sighed, feeling as if she was being just a little over-dramatic. Hell, everyone so far had reacted to the soldiers with some form of hysteria, and I was starting to think I was the only person who saw them for what they really were: two dumb little chunks of wood that had been painted to look like old-time soldiers. Heading through to Lucy's bedroom, I could already hear Katie outside arguing with her. Whereas I was determined to play nice, Katie was raising her voice, shouting at Lucy in a manner I'd never heard before, almost as if she was becoming frantic.
Feeling a vibration in my pocket, I took out my phone and saw that Jimmy was calling.
“Hey,” I said as I answered, “I don't really have time to -”
“Do you still have those freaky kids' toys?” he asked, sounding a little breathless.
“Not for long. I'm taking them back to the -”
“Dude,” he continued, “I did some reading up on the whole John Spencer Baxter case, and it's way creepier than I remembered. He actually mentioned those toys in, like, this super-weird diary thing he kept.”
“Please tell me they're cursed,” I replied, grabbing Lucy's favorite toy from her bed. “That would be the next logical step here.”
“He said they spoke to him!”
“The wooden soldiers?”
“He said only people who were really tuned in could hear their voices! He said the Devil spoke to him through the two soldiers and told him to kill all those people.”
I opened my mouth to reply, before realizing he was serious. “The toys talked to him?”
“Apparently the Devil spoke through them both at once,” he continued, “and, like, told him in excruciating detail what he should do to each of his victims. All through his diaries, he blamed every goddamn thing on the soldiers. He said the Devil spoke to him with two voices, one from each of the toys, and convinced him to do all those freaky things to the women he captured. Apparently the voices would be, like, goading him, and testing him, and telling him that if he didn't follow their orders, the whole goddamn world would end.”
“Sounds like a good way to plead insanity,” I muttered. “Jimmy, seriously -”
“He even recorded them once!”
“The Devil voices?” I asked with a sigh.
“Listen!” I could hear him fumbling with his phone and tapping at his computer's keyboard. “He rigged up this weird-ass microphone to pick up, like, different frequencies, and he managed to record them.”
“This should be good,” I replied, rolling my eyes. “Listen, Jimmy, the guy was clearly -”
Before I could finish, I realized I could hear a static-filled swirling sound on the other end of the line. Jimmy was clearly playing the audio file, and it sure sounded like voices, but they were too distorted to really make anything out.
“Hang on,” he said after a moment. “After a few seconds he managed to tune in properly. They really... Here!”
Before I had a chance to tell him the whole thing was insane, I heard a sudden rasping, barking voice on the other end of the line.
“The next one has to be alive when you cut her throat!” the voice snarled. “Clean through, so her blood sprays. Why the fuck did you let this one die so fast, you dumb cocksucker?”
“Make her scream!” another voice added, sounding deeper and even more distorted than the first. “If you don't make her scream, we won't be able to hold back anymore! The world will die in flames! You're the only one who can save everything, but first you have to rip the next bitch apart with your bare fucking hands!”
“What are you doing with that thing?” the first voice asked angrily. “Are you trying to record me? Is this -”
The recording cut off, and I heard Jimmy fumbling with his phone again.
“That's all the dude got,” he continued breathlessly, “but seriously, I think you need to get those statues out of your house right now!”
I wanted to tell him he was wrong, to tell him I didn't believe for one moment that the statues had spoken to that Baxter guy, but at the same time I couldn't help thinking back to the way Lucy had been talking to the two wooden soldiers and even acting as if she could hear them speaking to her. The whole thing was clearly crazy, of course, and driven by a combination of coincidence and superstition, but I was starting to think it'd be best to get rid of the damn things before they could cause any more trouble.
“Thanks for the heads-up,” I told Jimmy, “but honestly, I think I've got the situation under control. The statues are going back this afternoon.”
“That's a wise decision, my friend. There's no point meddling in stuff you don't understand.”
“Whatever,” I said with a sigh, “I think I just -”
Suddenly I heard a loud, piercing scream from the driveway. I froze for a moment, before the scream resumed with a more gargled, stuttering tone.
“Katie?” I whispered, as the scream continued. Dropping the phone, I ran out of Lucy's room and hurried toward the back door. “Katie!” I shouted, as I heard my wife crying out. “Wait!”
Six
As I reached the back door, Lucas came running in, as if something outside had freaked him out.
Heading into the sun-drenched yard, I stopped for a moment as I saw Lucy straddling Katie, pounding at her head with the two figures. There was already a large pool of blood on the concrete, and although Katie was reaching up to push Lucy away, her hands were trembling and she seemed too weak to save herself. For a fraction of a second, all I could do was watch as my daughter raised the wooden figures up high and then brought them crashing down again, plunging one of them into my wife's eye-socket and hitting her so hard with the other that her skull could be heard cracking.
“Lucy, stop!” I shouted, racing down the steps. “Lucy!”
As soon as I reached them, I saw that Lucy had used the two wooden soldiers to pound one side of Katie's face to a bloody, pulpy mess. I grabbed my daughter and pulled her away as she cried out, and then I held her kicking, screaming body as I turned back and saw what was left of Katie's head.
“No,” I whispered, “please...”
The left side of my Katie's face had been completely smashed away, leaving plates of broken bone slopping down into rivers of blood. Part of her upper lip was mulched and torn, exposing her bloodied teeth, while her right eye had been completely gouged out, leaving nothing but a mess of reds: the pink, torn flesh; the bloodied meat ripped up from deeper in her skull; and the wet, crimson pool of blood with pieces of crushed white. Part of the pupil had been split down the middle and smeared down her cheek, but no matter how horrific the sight, I couldn't look away. I could only stare, waiting for some sign that the whole thing was some sick joke.
“It's not my fault,” Lucy said calmly. “Mommy didn't understand. I can't let the world burn. I have to do whatever they tell me.”
Turning to her, I saw that she was looking down at her mother's body with an expression of calm disinterest.
Suddenly Katie twitched, reaching up with her hand and touching the side of her face, as if she couldn't quite work out what had happened. At the same time, she let out a faint gurgling sound as more blood dribbled from what was left of her mouth.
“It's okay,” I told her, reaching down and taking her hand in mine. “I'm going to get help.”
I waited, but her remaining eye had fallen still.
“Katie!” I shouted, leaning closer. “You're going to be okay, I swear!”
“She didn't understand,” Lucy told me again. “She tried to interfere.”
“What did you do?” I shouted, grabbing Lucy by the shoulders and seeing that blood had sprayed all over her dress and face. Her hands were stained too, while there were fragments of flesh and bone stuck to the two wooden soldiers, which she was still clutching tight. Her eyes were wide open and unblinking, as if she hadn't really noticed the horror she'd c
aused.
“You don't understand either, do you?” she asked. “That's okay, Daddy. It's because you haven't heard them talk to you yet. But you will. You just have to learn how to listen.”
“What did you do?” I yelled again, overcome by panic before grabbing the soldiers and tearing them from her hands.
“No!” she screamed, trying to grab the soldiers back and then punching me on the side of the face.
“Lucy -”
“Give them back!”
This time she hit me even harder, as if she was finding extra fury and anger from deep down.
Pushing her away, I stumbled to the far side of the yard and tossed the two bloodied soldiers onto the barbecue. With trembling hands I grabbed a can of lighter fluid and doused the figures, and then I lit a match. There was still a part of me that insisted the soldiers weren't to blame, but I was filled with a sudden, desperate need to get rid of them at all cost.
“Daddy, no!” Lucy screamed, running toward me.
Before she could get any closer, I dropped the match and watched as the two soldiers burst into flames.
“Daddy, stop!”
Lunging past me, Lucy thrust her hands into the flames. I quickly tried to pull them out, but the heat was too strong and I had to grab her by the waist and drag her back. The flames were rising high now, and I dragged Lucy further away until suddenly I realized she'd stopped fighting. Instead, she'd begun to sob. It was as if she'd finally accepted that the soldiers were gone.
“Mommy!” she screamed, slipping out of my grip and running back toward Katie. “Mommy, come back!”
Turning, I saw that Katie had fallen still now. A cold shiver ran through my chest as I ran and pulled Lucy away, and my daughter quickly buried her face against my chest.
As people began coming out of nearby houses, all I could do was stare in shock at my wife's bloodied body. I knew there was no way she could still be alive, that half her brain must have been crushed by the fury that Lucy's had unleashed, so all I could do was hold my daughter tight as I slowly turned and stared with wide-eyed shock at the flames that continued to roar from the barbecue.
Whatever had caused Lucy to explode with rage, it seemed to have passed now. I slowly dropped to my knees, holding her as she cried. The flames were finally dying down in the barbecue, and I could see that there was nothing left of the figures.
