by Castle, Jack
At least there was a way out. In front of her was an old, white, three-paned wooden door, like one you might find in an old farmhouse. The paint was worn and heavily flaked. For the most part, the room was bathed in shadow but a bright white light framed the old door and beckoned her toward it.
“Becca!” The voice was faint and far away, almost like someone yelling through water.
Becca turned to her right and saw that one wall of the room had been replaced with a wall of water. The angle was wrong though. The view was as if she were lying on her back on the bottom of a lake. And staring into the watery wall panel she saw the blurry image of Wally and Big Leonard frantically searching the depths for her.
‘Did I drown?’
Oh, you did a lot more than that, lass.
“So cold.” Becca rubbed her shoulders for warmth.
A burning haze emanated from the old wooden door, summoning her to it once more. She turned from her watery grave and laid a hand on the handle of the doorknob, which was surprisingly warm and inviting. The cracks in the frame work ran red with flame. Becca didn’t care. She welcomed its warm embrace.
A ghost-like hand gently laid his hand on hers. A voice, one she knew as well as her own, whispered into her ear, “Not yet.”
Becca knew if she turned her head towards the voice Mike would vanish. So, keeping her head straight, she replied, “But I’m so tired. So cold. So alone.”
Becca went to turn the knob again but Mike’s vaporous hand solidified a bit more and kept her from turning it. “Not yet, Becca-Bear. Not this way. Not yet.”
‘Becca Bear. So it was Mike.’
Against all primal instinct, she let go of the handle and stepped away.
What are you afraid of, love? Now a new presence appeared in the room. If it’s blessed sleep you’re after, all you have to do is step through the door. Of course, it was Donnie O’Donnell, now appearing as the Late Night Host in the room.
Before she could answer, Mike roared, “You. Shut the hell up!”
Donnie appeared hurt, the face of a scolded schoolboy. This time when he spoke it was no longer as merely a voice in her head. To Mike he said, “You have no authority over me, lad. You’re not even supposed to be here. All I’m trying to do is help dear Rebecca on her way. Don’t you want to be reunited with your lost love there, Mikey?”
This time Becca did turn toward Mike. He was there, not in ghost form as she had expected but real and no longer disfigured. “Is this true? Could we really be together?”
“Absolutely, lass, just go through the door.”
Mike switched his angry gaze from Donnie to her. His face softened at the sight of her. “Oh Becca, I’ve missed you so much. Don’t worry, we’ll see each other again, but for now, you have much to do.”
“NO!” Donnie said, stepping forward. He roared monstrously, “Now is the time, Becca. You’ve wasted too much of my time already.”
Becca shrank away from Donnie but there was nowhere to go.
THWOCK!
Becca didn’t know ghosts could punch other ghosts in the face, but that was exactly what Mike did. He always was a man of action, right up until the day he died, and now, even after his death. The demon, for Becca was now certain that’s what Donnie had been all along, fell backward on his ass.
“Oh, ye shouldn’t have done that, lad. You’ve really gone and done it now.”
In seconds, Donnie transformed into the hideous ice demon Becca had seen earlier. He took a clawed step toward her but Mike leapt in his way. In an instant, the ice demon rammed his taloned claw through Mike’s stomach, lifting him off his feet.
“Welcome to oblivion, boy,” he croaked and then tossed Mike across the room where he smashed into the wall.
“Becca. Run,” Mike said weakly, his body eviscerated and slumped on the floor.
The ice demon turned on Becca, his words filled with hate, “You couldn’t have just blown your brains out. Was that really so hard? Now look what you’ve done!”
There was nowhere to run. As she feared, this was a fate worse than death. Then, Becca heard it before she actually saw him. The barking was as familiar to her as Mike’s gentle whisper. It was her faithful friend and canine for nearly a decade, Champ.
The ice demon cried out in anguish as Champ leapt up and bit down on the ice demon’s bony forearm, crunching bone. The demon fell to the ground, swiped a claw at Champ, knocking him off only temporarily. In a flash Champ was back on his feet and clamping down on Donnie’s throat and squeezed. The demon kept crying out in pain, and his pleas for mercy were soon replaced by gurgling noises as he drowned on his own blood.
The red haze around the door began to glow hotter and became a steaming hot red. Mike, holding his eviscerated belly with one hand, stumbled to his feet, staggered over to the door and threw his body against it. “Go!” he cried.
Becca felt her head shaking. She wasn’t about to leave her beloved again. “Never!” She ran over to stand beside him and help him hold the bucking door.
They could hear sounds on the other side, other-worldly sounds, not of this world sounds. Becca knew once that door flung open they both would be pulled into hell. “I won’t leave you.”
Face to face, heads bouncing off the door, Mike explained, “You have to. If you don’t, so many more will die. You have to go back, Becca, now, before it’s too late.” In a fit of passion he leaned forward and Becca felt his lips once last time upon hers. She closed her eyes for it.
Mike then grabbed her roughly by the arm and tossed her toward the watery wall. She fell to the floor.
“Now go!” It was more of a pleading command than anything else.
Becca looked back at the watery wall and saw one of the men plunge into the water. She took one last look at Mike before diving into the wall of water.
But it was too late.
Just like the explosion at the checkpoint had claimed Mike and Champ before, the door flung open with a massive explosion. The corporeal form of Mike vanished in an instant, like sand blowing away in a powerful gust of wind. The other side of the door was a bleeding gullet, with bodies cut in half all shrieking for her to enter. She had waited too long. First the corpse of Donnie got sucked in, and soon Becca found her body sliding across the floor, being pulled toward the hellish throat by sucking, screaming winds.
Becca wasn’t just going to die; her very soul had an express pass straight to hell.
(Well there you have it)
(Becca’s dead. Donnie’s dead. No big loss there. Mike’s dead. Champ, Ralphie the mostly faithful husband and line cook, even the middle-aged nerd; all dead)
(A bit of a confession here… I sorta liked the nerd in the end)
(So have you figured out who I am yet? I’ve certainly left you enough clues)
(sigh)
(please don’t make me tell you)
(Alright. Fine. I will tell you. First all you have to do is survive this little tale. You do that, make it all the way to the very end, and I will tell you.)
(Feeling pretty smug that you will, aren’t you? After all, it’s only a book, right?)
(All I’m saying is be careful. A lot can happen between now and then. Accidents happen all the time. I mean, look what happened to poor Ralphie. What a sweet man. Didn’t even see it coming.)
(Oh, one more thing. I really am worried about your well-being. Before you go anywhere, make sure you check the left front tire. You’ll know what I mean when you see it.)
Chapter 32
The Human Pincushion
“We need to leave.”
That’s the first thing Becca would say when she found the boys. If they so much as stuttered or asked why, she was out the door. The last time she checked the ambulance was still parked at the gas station under the canopy; snow be damned.
Pistol tucked into the waistband of her pants (Mike would be thrilled), Becca threw open the door of her motel room, stepped into the hallway and said loudly, “We need to leave.”
But nobody was around to hear. She frantically checked down the hallway toward the lobby area but Big Leonard and Wally were no longer posted in their chairs. She quickly scanned the other direction and Mr. Blowhard, his wife, and golf cap weren’t guarding the other back entrance either.
They’re gone. This time the voice in her head was her own. After the unwanted dreams Becca was fairly certain that whatever Donnie was in the end, he was never coming back… and neither was Mike or Champ. The ultimate bitter-sweet ending. But now, for better or worse, now she was truly alone.
And she wanted to live.
(Don’t worry; I know what you’re thinking. Donnie, Mike, and Champ are gone, but don’t worry, I’m still here for you.)
This place, she could feel it. It was a nexus for evil. And her immortal soul was still inside the box. Becca knew, on some basic instinctual level, that if she lost it now, in this place, she’d never see Mike and Champ ever again. And she so desperately wanted to see them again.
Becca was about to check the lobby area for the boys when she heard it, a sickening squishy noise. It was emanating from the room at the end of the hall near the back entrance. If memory served, past the small room that served as a crappy gym, there was a small breakfast nook. Little more than half a dozen tables or so, with a small buffet of food pressed up against the walls and lots of cheap plastic chairs around round tables.
Abandoning her plan to check the lobby Becca headed for the breakfast room. Although the hallway was swimming in shadows the light in the room at the end of the hall was brightly lit. It wasn’t quite white though, or even an emergency red haze. It was a color that reminded Becca of mucus, the yellow and green kind you hock up when you have a sinus infection, or the worst flu in your life.
As she passed the last of the motel room doors, a fire extinguisher, and the crappy gym, she heard the squishy sound again, only this time it was followed by a weak groan. She would’ve turned back but it could be Wally, or Big Leonard, or anyone from the tour bus, who might be in trouble and need her help. Even before getting all the way to the back entrance the smell coming from the breakfast room was overpowering. Like someone had taken a giant piss on the carpet. A glow of dread seeped into the forefront of her mind.
Becca then heard squealing noises, but couldn’t tell if they were animal or man. She stepped around the wall’s edge with an odd sense of foreboding. Turning the corner completely, Becca stared–and for a long moment stood there unmoving.
“Jaden?” Becca asked numbly, staring at the human pincushion strewn out upon the breakfast table before her.
“Please…” was all Jaden could manage. The tour director was stretched out on the table, his intestines hanging out of his body with the loose end curled around a rolling pin as though someone had wound him up like a toy. A large butcher knife stuck through Jaden’s left hand, and a fork had been jammed through his right.
A momentary vision of Peyton hunched over Jaden on the table as she stuck utensils into him, laughing with joy as she did it, flashed across her mind. Realizing someone was watching, the young cheerleader snapped her head up at her with uncanny speed. Becca could now see Peyton had glowing hot-white orbs for eyes and was grinning at her mockingly.
“Peyton!” Becca shouted.
But when Becca blinked, Peyton was no longer there. Had she ever been? Did she imagine Peyton hovering over Jaden like that? The tour director turned his ruined face to the side, and spotting her, he mouthed the words, “Help me.”
Becca’s feet backed her away. Where would she even begin? Jaden’s intestines had been wound up out of his body.
Backing deeper into the breakfast nook area Becca felt someone behind her. “Oh, thank the Lord,” but when she turned around the first thing she realized was that the person was hanging in the air upside down… and not wearing any clothes… or flesh. It was as though the flesh had been flayed from their bodies.
The back of Becca’s hand rose to her quivering lips. Three bodies hung upside down by their feet. At least two of them were missing heads, but judging by their size she was pretty sure they were Mr. Blowhard, his diminutive wife, and the guy wearing the golf cap.
Her knees buckled.
Past the hanging bodies Becca could see where a macabre artist had smeared blood and excrement all over the walls and replaced the food in the food dispensers with body parts.
“Ahhh,” she began to scream, but the sound wouldn’t quite form in her throat. “Ahhhh,” her body tried reflexively again. Still nothing.
Her knees collapsed from under her. A pair of strong hands caught her before she hit the floor. She turned. It was Wally. If she had the strength she probably would’ve fought him off, but the fight had gone right out of her. As bad as the snow demon planet and Hell house room had been, on some level she knew those were dreams (Were they? Were they really? I like to think of them more as one possible future). She hadn’t expected to turn the corner of the breakfast nook and find… this.
“Wait,” she croaked. “We have to help Jaden.”
Becca was pretty sure Wally said, “He’s gone, Becca. C’mon.”
The hallway tilted crazily, like those tunnels in the fun house. Wally led her away from the breakfast nook, down the listing hallway, and back into the lobby. She was pretty certain there was nothing supernatural about it, only her frayed nerves getting the best of her. Somehow, they ended up back on the couch, in the lobby area near the main entrance.
Calvin, the middle-aged nerd, was also there, sitting on the couch and staring off into space.
Seeing Calvin catatonic she asked Wally, “Does he know?”
Lowering her down to the couch Wally nodded, and whispered tersely, “He was the one who found them first.”
Becca didn’t like being coddled but when she tried to resist Wally sitting her on the couch she had nothing, no strength left whatsoever. A thought suddenly occurred to her, “Wait, shouldn’t we pull the alarm or something? Wake everyone else up?”
“What do you think will happen if we do?” When she didn’t answer, Wally said, “They’ll go running right out into that storm.They’ll die..”
Becca was still of the mindset that might not actually be a bad thing. Die yes, but not eternally.
As though sensing her thoughts, Wally added, “No, out there is certain death. We just have to figure out who did this and how to contain them.”
“And be certain not to kill them.”
It was Calvin. He kept shaking his head, like a drunk trying to clear his mind.
“What did you say?” Wally asked him.
One more good shake and Calvin was back with them. “I was thinking about what Big Leonard said earlier, about this being a demon. And you yourself said that after your paramedic friend, I’m sorry, what was her name?”
(Why can no one remember her name?)
“Denise,” Wally said shortly.
Calvin nodded. “Right. Sorry. Denise. After you shot her, you said you heard laughing, like whatever had been inside her was loose and running down the hall.”
“Yeah. So?”
“So maybe they had it right in the Bible. That’s why they didn’t kill the guy who kept breaking all the chains.” Then to himself, he added, “I always wondered about that. Why they didn’t kill him.”
(Me-eeee too)
Now Becca was starting to follow. “Because the demons would just jump to another body.”
“Exactly.”
“Calvin,” Wally asked. “Is there anything else that you can think of? Is there anything else that might work?”
Calvin bit his lower lip in thought for a moment. Finally, he answered, “In the Dark Ages, the Salem Witch Trials, throughout history… Fire seems to be the most consistent weapon when dealing with the unnatural.”
Wally bobbed his head up and down in agreement. “Alright. That’s something. Before we do anything else, let’s check the security cameras in the back office. We can find out who did this, and exactly who we need to contain.�
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“We don’t need to do that, we already know who did this, it was Peyton.”
“The cheerleader?” Calvin asked. “How do you know?”
Becca swallowed before answering. Did she see Peyton? Or did she want to see Peyton? Maybe it was somebody else. If she was wrong, or the demon had made her think she saw Peyton she’d be responsible for murdering an innocent young girl. “Now I’m not so sure.” Ugh. Now she really hated herself.
“Look,” Calvin began. “I know you’re upset, and heck, you’ve got every right to be, but there’s no way a ninety-pound girl could have overpowered three people and hung them from the ceiling like that. Possessed or not, it’s a matter of physics. It isn’t humanly possible.”
Becca felt herself sneer. Turning toward Wally she asked, “Wally, you believe me?”
Of course Wally would believe her. Wasn’t he the one who had seen it all?
To her surprise and dismay Wally merely pointed to the small camera in the corner of the lobby and said, “Let’s check the security cameras.” Seeing her venomous stare he quickly added, “That way we can see exactly what happened and have proof to show the others.”
At the other end of the hallway, in the manager’s office behind the front desk, they found the room where the security cameras’ control center was kept.
When Becca checked the camera monitoring the breakfast room she half-expected the room to appear perfectly normal. Isn’t that how these things are supposed to go in the movies? Nope. Three hanging filleted bodies were still there, with plenty of snack-sized body parts lying around. A small part of her was relieved she wasn’t going crazy.
(it would’ve been better if she were)
“Rewind it,” Wally ordered Calvin, who was sitting at the camera’s controls.
Calvin nodded but after typing a few keys repeatedly he said exasperated, “I can’t, the computer is locked out. I need a password.”
After years of working on numerous security checkpoints all over the world, Becca suggested, “Try security. One-word.”
