The Girl in the Darkness

by John Triptych

Addison frowned. She made her way to where the gym bags had been placed by the door, and she noticed a familiar-looking branded box sticking out from one of the packs. Bending down, she pulled it out and stared at it. The package she had in her hands contained thermal imaging goggles. She turned and noticed that Jeff was looking at her intensely. It seemed that his poise had changed from a friendly, cooperative individual to a visage of barely suppressed rage. Their eyes locked and she could see the palpable hatred in his soul. She had sensed his secret and was now the enemy.

  The door was still closed and he was right in between. Addison dropped the box and backed away towards the spacious living room, one hand reaching back to where her concealed Ruger LC9s was holstered by her right hip. Jeff closed the distance quickly, and he was able to get his hands on her before she brought the pistol up to bear. Addison remembered her training; she pivoted to her left and tried to throw him off balance, but he had an iron grip on her forearms even as he staggered towards her right side.

  Addison twisted her right arm away from his grip and tried aiming the pistol to his head, but he was too fast for her as he slapped the gun from her hand. The 9mm Ruger fell to the wooden floor with a bulky thud. Addison turned and dove for the pistol, but Jeff tackled her from behind, knocking them to the floor, each struggling to gain the upper hand.

  Jeff had strong hands, with a body built up from years of being out in the sun doing construction work. He used his strength and bulk to pin her to the ground. Addison screamed from the pain as he held her hands down on the floor. The gun was at an arm’s length away and she couldn’t reach it.

  His voice had a reptilian hiss. “Stop struggling, detective. You’re just … making it harder for yourself.”

  With an inner ferocity borne of desperation, Addison craned her neck and pushed her face up before biting him in the ear. Jeff howled in pain as the blood spurted from his torn earlobe, and his grip on her wrists slackened. She was able to twist one of her arms free and elbowed his neck, sending him tumbling sideways on the floor.

  Addison twisted her body away from him as she reached out for the pistol lying on the ground. Just as she wrapped her fingers around the Ruger’s handgrip, Jeff got back on top of her while placing his knee on her spine. Addison cried out in desperation as the barrel of the gun was slowly being turned to the direction of her own face.

  “It’ll look like a suicide, detective. Happens all the time to cops who lose their partners in the line of duty. Survivor guilt's a bitch,” Jeff said mockingly.

  Addison thrust her face forward and bit down on his wrist with all her might. Jeff yelled out again as he pulled his bleeding arm away. She tried to aim the gun at him, but his sudden backhanded slap sent the Ruger tumbling away from her hand. She rolled away from him and promptly collided with the coffee table.

  Just as he got up and advanced upon her once more, Addison got into a crouching position, her hands trying to grab anything that was on the low table, hoping for something that she could use against him. She gripped something solid, and sensed that it was an ashtray. The moment he lunged at her again, she swung it into the side of his head.

  Jeff took the blow in his cheek as the ceramic ashtray shattered, bruising the side of his face and embedding bits of broken porcelain into his skin. Addison sensed her chance as she turned around and sprinted away from him, making her way towards the kitchen. He was not ready for the fierceness of her resistance, and he was slow in recovering his senses.

  She needed a weapon, and she figured there would be knives in his cupboard or drawers somewhere. But just as she was about to thrust herself through the swinging doors and into the kitchen, Jeff caught up to her, grabbed Addison by her hair and pulled her backwards. The sudden attack left her reeling as the back of her head collided with the floor, momentarily stunning her. By the time Addison’s mind had cleared, he was already above her, keeping her down on the ground.

  Jeff knelt down on top of her chest as they both struggled beside the dining room table. He had both hands on her throat, and he started squeezing with all of his might. Addison gasped as she grabbed onto the leg of a nearby chair and tried to pull it out, but her strength began to rapidly weaken. The pain in her throat was unbearable, and she couldn’t breathe, her legs thrashing around.

  “Die, you bitch,” he said.

  Addison clawed at him, her fingers scratching his arms and face. She tried to cough, but the viselike grip around her throat blocked any air from coming and going. Spots of blackness begin to creep into the edges of her vision. Everything was fading out. The last thing she saw were the eyes of a man who was beyond feeling, beyond madness. Her arms lost their strength and fell back down to the floor. Addison’s chest heaved several times before she stopped moving altogether.

  Jeff waited a few more minutes until he was absolutely certain she was dead before letting go of her throat. A dog barked out in the distance somewhere, then everything was quiet and peaceful once more. He slowly got up and wiped the drops of blood off his face. Staring down at her blank eyed look, a feeling of disappointment spread over him. He always liked her, but there was nothing to be done now. For a few minutes he just stood there, letting the last bits of adrenaline dissipate from his body so that he could think clearly again. It looked like his hobby had taken a dangerous turn, and he needed all his wits and guile to think of a way out of this.

  A vibrating noise from her chest momentarily startled him. He knelt down and took out a smartphone from her coat pocket and examined it. There was a text from someone named Stephanie, asking as to when she would be joining her in Vermont. He texted back as Addison, saying she was being called back to duty and would be investigating a lead down in Georgia before adding an apology to it. As soon as he did, he powered off the phone before placing it back into the coat pocket.

  Walking over to a nearby drawer, he opened it and took out a pair of vinyl gloves. He should have been on his way to the lodge by now, but it looked like he would have to work all night to cover this mess up.

  Twenty

  The road was half-shrouded in darkness since there weren’t any streetlamps nearby. The only illumination was from the lights of the distant houses and the clear, moonlit night. While other kids her age were scared of the blacked out woods, Samantha’s anger gave her a newfound courage to face whatever was out there. Why did her mom have to slap her? Just because she didn’t feel like raking the driveway didn’t mean she deserved a painful blow to her face like that. It just wasn’t fair. She'd be turning twelve in a few month’s time, and she deserved more respect than what she was getting.

  “I hate you!” she screamed at Brenda, before turning around and grabbing her jacket by the front door. Ignoring her mother’s quick apology, she stormed out of the house and started walking up the road, just as the sun began to set over the tree-lined horizon.

  It was a good thing she did have the sense to bring her jacket along, for the nights grew cold around the area, and she was already close to freezing even though less than an hour had passed since she had left the house in a huff. She half-expected her mother to catch up with her using the car, and felt even more frustrated when it didn’t happen. Samantha would normally go deep into the woods by the house if she didn’t want any company, but since she didn’t have a flashlight, it was better to just walk alongside the street for now.

  A few cars passed her, but at this hour of the night even the road was mostly deserted. Every time her mother would punish her, Samantha would cry and run out into the woods. This was the first instance that she didn’t shed any tears, and the first time ever that she talked back to her mom. Her behavior was surprising, even to herself.

  There was a bend in the road and she cut through it, stepping carefully around the tall grass in between the trees, fearful of snakes and other things. Once past the other side she walked by a country house and heard a dog barking at her. She continued to walk beside the wooden fence that sealed off the property and the guard dog soon stopped howling on
ce she made it past the opposite end. There weren’t any sidewalks, so she kept her eyes peeled as she walked by the edge of the road, just in case an unexpected car came whizzing by. In some parts of the street, the grass would sometimes creep out into the asphalt, and she would walk over that instead.

  A pair of bright headlights soon lit up her back, and the vehicle stopped just a few feet behind her. Samantha turned and shielded her eyes from the illumination. Did her mother call the cops or something?

  “Hey, Sam,” a familiar voice said.

  She walked over to the SUV knowing full well who it was. Samantha must have figured that her mom must have contacted him to pick her up. It was the first time she had ever talked back to Brenda, and she was afraid that they were going to really punish her this time.

  The front passenger seat window rolled down. Samantha peered inside, but didn’t open the door. “Hi,” she said softly.

  Her father was in the driver’s seat. He looked calm. “What are you doing out here?”

  She hesitated at first, wondering if Brenda had told him about what had happened. “I just wanted to be alone.”

  Jeff shook his head slowly. “It’s dangerous out here, sweetie. Get in.”

  Samantha opened the door and sat in the front seat. She closed the door and continued to stare out through the windshield as the window beside her electronically closed. Her hands were folded over her lap.

  Jeff placed his right hand over hers. “Did something happen, Sam?”

  “Mom hit me,” she said tersely.

  “You must have done something, right?”

  “I said I was gonna rake the leaves tomorrow! Why did I have to do it right away?”

  Jeff held his hands up in a gesture of neutrality. “Okay, okay. Calm down.”

  She exhaled slowly. “I’m going to start junior high next year. Why does she still treat me like I’m eight or something? It’s not fair!”

  For a long minute neither of them said anything. After another car passed them by, Jeff turned and looked at her. “I get it. You’ll be a woman soon and you want some respect, right?”

  “Sort of. I just wish she’d listen to what I want every once in awhile.”

  “Okay, I’ll talk to your mother about it,” Jeff said. “But you have to realize that respect is a two-way street. You need to do your chores.”

  Samantha gritted her teeth. He was taking her mother’s side now. “I said I would! I just didn’t want to do it that instant.”

  He continued to stay calm. “Right, did you tell your mother the reason why you couldn’t do it right away?”

  Samantha bit her lip. “Well sort of…”

  “What do you mean sort of?”

  “I just said no.”

  “Just no? Well that’s why she got angry then.”

  “I was distracted, okay? I was waiting for my friends to call.”

  “You got to give a better explanation than that, Sam.”

  She crossed her arms. He was right and she knew it. “Fine. Can we just drop this?”

  “Okay,” he said. “Do you want me to drive you back home now?”

  “Not just yet,” Samantha said. “Where are you going?”

  “I’ve got a place with a basement that needs a little work before I head back to the house,” Jeff said.

  “Can I come with you?”

  He looked at her for a short minute before replying. “Okay, put your seat belt on.”

  It took a little over an hour, but they soon drove into a private road, leading up to a two story lodge surrounded by a deep forest of oak trees. Samantha remembered this place. It was one of her parent’s properties, and the whole family had stayed overnight here several times in the past. She had not visited this place for several years now, and it looked the same as before.

  She got out of the SUV and walked up to the cabin’s spacious porch, standing beside an antique wooden rocking chair. Jeff walked over to her carrying a flashlight and had a small backpack slung over his shoulder. He handed her a set of keys. “Go ahead, unlock it.”

  Samantha did as she was told. After opening the door her dad went inside first, flipping on the light switch and illuminating the place. The interior was built log cabin style, with three bedrooms and a high-ceilinged roof above. A stone fireplace stood at the other end of the main room. The walls were mostly oak wood paneling, buttressed with a solid foundation of quarried rock and cement. Two couches and an easy chair were clustered around a low coffee table near the fireplace. At the opposite end was the full-service kitchen, its gleaming stainless steel counter a technological contrast compared with the rest of the lodge.

  Sam turned to look at him. “So we still own this?”

  He gave her a smile. “We sure do.”

  She walked around the living room, running her hand along the tops of the couches. “How come we don’t come over here anymore?”

  Jeff winked at her. “I’ve been doing some secret work on the foundation of this place.”

  “What secret work?”

  He beckoned her to follow him into the pantry area by the kitchen. “Have a look.”

  She followed him over to the pantry. He opened the door to the small room and pointed to the ground. When Samantha looked down she let out a surprised gasp. There was a trapdoor where the floor was supposed to be. She could see a ladder had been built along one side of the hole, leading down to a shadowy abyss.

  “What’s down there?”

  “Let’s have a look.”

  “I don’t know, Daddy.”

  “Don’t be scared, I’ll be with you.”

  “Okay.”

  Jeff came down the ladder first, followed by Samantha. When he got down to the bottom he used his flashlight to signal at her to follow. The first time she gripped the sides of the rails she thought she was going to fall off and drop down below, but her father’s reassurance gave her enough courage to walk down the rungs slowly until she made it to the bottom.

  Looking around she could see that it was like an underground box. The walls and flooring were solid concrete, and there was a ventilation shaft at the opposite side of the trapdoor, right by the ladder she had just climbed down from. At the far end of the room was what looked like a basic toilet and bathroom sink. There was a strange chemical smell coming from somewhere that she couldn’t identify.

  Jeff continued to show her around using the flashlight beam as his only illumination. The light coming from the trapdoor above was too faint to display anything but the ladder at the end of the room. “So what do you think?”

  Samantha shook her head in disbelief. “Did you build this all by yourself, Daddy?”

  “I sure did,” Jeff said. “It was to house a very special guest, but I decided to make it for someone even better.”

  She gave him a quizzical look. “What do you mean, Daddy?”

  Jeff leaned over and picked up a pair of black metallic goggles that was lying on a box beside him. He placed it on his face and now it looked like he was wearing a pair of binoculars over his eyes. He started grinning from ear to ear. “I’ll give you one guess.”

  Samantha had never seen him like this before and it was making her very uneasy. “Daddy, I don’t like this. Let’s go home already.”

  “You are home,” he said. Then he turned off the flashlight.

  Samantha started to scream.

  Twenty One

  Brenda waited until it was late afternoon before she went out to rake the leaves by the driveway. It seemed that summer would be arriving much sooner than expected. Last night, the sounds of crickets and katydids became more pronounced, signifying the true change of seasons had come at last. She had already told Cherry Wilson that she would start working again in the next couple of days, so she figured it was best to tidy up the house before she got too busy.

  Tigger’s meowing could be heard just behind the front door. Brenda smiled to herself as she continued raking the fallen leaves. Ever since she brought the tabby home, the cat took an
instant liking to her. She named it Tigger since she couldn’t think of any other name, and she remembered that Winnie-the-Pooh was Samantha’s favorite cartoon when she was little. Brenda had listened to Fernando’s instructions since the cat still had a soft bandage on its right foreleg, keeping Tigger confined within the house for the time being. The tabby was restless as it paced back and forth in the living room for the past several days. This was the first time she ever owned a cat, and Brenda spent a lot of time on the internet, searching through numerous blogs and online articles on how to take care of it.

  It took less than an hour, but she was finally done. With the driveway now clear of any debris, the house looked well-maintained from the outside. Brenda knew she still had some cleaning to do in the interiors, and Tigger’s occasional clawing of the furniture wasn’t making things any easier. Brenda took out the cell phone from her pants pocket and added a note to go buy a half dozen scratching posts the next time she went out.

  Placing the rake by the side of the door, Brenda put her hands on her hips as she looked into the house from the outside window. Sure enough, Tigger was trying to use both its forepaws to scratch the side of the sofa, but the soft bandage on its right paw was hindering it somewhat.

  Since the window was slightly opened, Brenda leaned forward so the cat could hear her. “No, Tigger!”

  The cat was momentarily startled as it immediately stopped its clawing while turning to look in her direction. Brenda smiled while wagging a finger at it. She figured the animal had already been trained by someone else. Just as she backed away from the window, a sudden realization that the cat’s owner might be looking for it darkened her mood somewhat, before she realized that Fernando had already taken Tigger’s name and picture off of the website.

  Brenda shook her head as she placed her hand on the doorknob. “Remember what Dr. Harmon said, you need to stop over-thinking about things,” she told herself.

  The moment she opened the door, Tigger leapt out of the opening and ran past her. It had happened so fast, she was completely surprised and just stood there for a few seconds, dumbfounded. The cat turned and ran towards the side of the house, and out of sight.