by K. R. Rowe
He stooped, speaking low. “I want you to come and stay with me.”
Allie smiled. “That’s sweet of you, but why?”
“Just for a little while, until they catch this psychopath.”
“I’ll keep her safe,” Mrs. Michaels piped in.
Phillip glanced over Allie’s shoulder but the old woman had her back to them.
“She’s right,” Allie said. “I’m safe here. I don’t go out at night anymore.”
A twinge of panic twisted his gut. He couldn’t leave her here and he’d sleep outside in his car if he had to. “Please, Allie. I adore you and if something happened to you … please reconsider.”
Allie smiled, reached up and brushed her fingers across his cheek. “That’s really sweet—”
“Stop harassing the girl,” the old woman said. Phillip looked up and Mrs. Michaels stood just behind Allie. “She’s safe here with me.”
Phillip had never wanted to hit a woman before, especially not an elderly one, but this one wasn’t a normal old woman. She was a bad influence, he didn’t like her, and her weird gray eye disturbed him. His main goal was to keep Allie safe and his patience with this crazy old bat evaporated along with his politeness.
“I mean no disrespect, ma’am, but this is none of your business.”
“Such a rude young man,” the old woman said. “I can see why the girl doesn’t want to go with you.”
Before he responded, Allie grabbed his hand and led him out into the hall, easing the door closed behind her.
“I don’t like her,” Phillip said.
“She’s just an old lady and set in her ways,” Allie said. “And she’s just trying to protect me.”
Phillip sighed, realizing he was getting nowhere. “I know you want to be independent.”
Allie smiled. “And I am.”
“Yes you are.” He pushed a wisp of hair from her cheek and a smile tugged at his lips. “But I just want to know you’re safe.”
“I know, and it’s sweet of you to worry.”
“Please reconsider.”
“Okay,” she said, turning to open the door. “I’ll think about it.”
“Can I call you tomorrow? Maybe we can talk about it?”
When she turned and smiled, his breath caught in his throat. Her beauty pushed warmth into his lonely soul. She stepped close, pulled his face toward hers and pressed her lips to his cheek.
“I’d like that.”
Phillip’s phone chirped and he dragged it out of his pocket.
“Shit,” he muttered, looking at the screen. He counted to three before answering, but if he counted to a million, it still wouldn’t help. “Yeah?”
“Stop jerking off up there,” Lawrence snapped from the other end. “The boss needs you down here.”
Chapter 24
Rookie
The two young rookies stood watch on the street. Indefinite foot patrol they’d told them. Jake had been on the force for almost six months, his partner Nathan, for nearly a year, but neither complained when the captain put them on these types of assignments; alert the residents, keep them indoors, watch for suspicious activity. Easy stuff, nice and quiet, a little boring, but nothing dangerous. Jake wasn’t afraid of the danger, but his wife would be happy. Their first child was due any time now and it wasn’t good for her to worry.
He glanced down at his watch—almost ten thirty. “Did you go to every apartment?”
“Yeah,” Nathan said. “Well, the ones that’d open the door.”
“I know what you mean. Same here. I don’t blame ‘em though. It’s getting late, and these people are scared. Something weird’s going on here and I want to find out what it is.” A musty scent caught in Jake’s throat. He gagged and pulled his collar over his nose. “Do you smell that?”
Nathan chuckled. “I farted.”
“Well, something must’ve crawled up in your ass and died.”
Still laughing, Nathan took a look around. “It’s probably coming from the sewer. Rats get down in there, drown, or get stuck and die. Have you ever smelled a rat after it’s been dead for a while? They dry up—it’s a nasty smell.”
“Dried up dead rats,” Jake muttered. “We’ll have to get animal control out here.” Trying to clear his throat of the stench, he hacked a wad of phlegm and spit on the street. “I think I’m gonna puke.”
Nathan grinned and smacked him on the back. “I’ll go take a look around. Stay here and call me if you need me. I’ll see if I can figure out what that godawful stink is.”
Jake watched his partner disappear around the corner. The area was deserted and the buildings all looked the same. The narrow streets in this part of town were a like a maze; a labyrinth of urban decay. He leaned against a lamppost for a few minutes before boredom crept in. Turning, he took a few steps in the opposite direction when his radio crackled to life.
“Jake!” his partner screamed. “I need backup. Something’s out here!”
“I’m on my way. Where are you?”
Static followed and then silence from the other end. Jake ran in the direction where he’d last seen his partner, sliding to a stop when he rounded the corner. Nathan lay in the street, body twitching.
Jake yanked his gun from his holster and engaged the radio clipped to his shoulder. “Officer down! Need backup!”
Sweeping the scene for signs of an assailant, he took a few steps toward his partner and stopped. Shadows darted away from his body. They slithered across the cobblestones and up the walls of a nearby building. His partner’s body jerked; head rolling toward Jake, mouth forming a silent plea for help. His skull imploded, shattering from within, ripping through the flesh of his face. An eyeball popped from its socket and dangled, before touching the street and bursting; its contents sucked clean and disappearing into the roadway. His chest cavity exploded, spewing blood into the street, his ribcage separating, ripping through his clothing, tearing like claws from his torso. Lungs and innards oozed from his body, sliding down his sides and onto the cobblestones.
Jake screamed into his radio again, “Officer down! Officer down! Oh my God!”
Running to his partner, he knelt by his side. Nathan’s remains spasmed and his bowels exploded, spewing bile, blood and excrement into his partner’s face. Jake fell backward onto his haunches, screaming, eyes burning from the stomach acid, but the street grabbed at his backside, pulling him to it. He struggled, breaking free from the vacuum and pushed to his feet. Stumbling to the sidewalk, he looked back and watched the street claim the rest of his partner’s remains; the stones absorbing the large pool of blood, bones cracking, grinding to dust, and disappearing.
A stream of urine poured down Jake’s leg and he bent at the waist and puked on his shoes. Staggering backward, he caught hold of a lamppost for support. Above him, the streetlight clicked on, and then another and another. Light flooded the weathered stones, pushing color and youth into their crumbling pores. Rust fell from the lampposts like shedding skin, leaving a smooth black surface behind. Terrified, he jumped away from the post, backed against a building and watched the wave of color move toward his feet.
Sirens sounded in the distance.
Jake dropped his gun and ran.
Chapter 25
Brown Demon
Apartment 34. Detective Lawrence knew he had the right apartment and he wouldn’t stop knocking until Allie answered. The local news had been swarming the area, and he had to wait until they’d wandered away before he decided to confront her. A policeman down was not to be taken lightly, but a week had passed and the gawkers had dwindled, finally moving on. They’d found the dead officer’s partner terrified and running like a bat out of hell. When they finally caught him, he babbled about something under the street. Now medicated, they were keeping him hospitalized until he calmed down and was able to give a coherent statement.
Lawrence knocked again. Rustling from inside the apartment told him someone was in there, and he wouldn’t stop until he talked to her.
“Allie Kent? This is Detective Lawrence,” he said. “Official police business.”
He knew she’d been avoiding him, but this time, he had damn good reason to be here. A tingle rolled down his belly and into his groin. Maybe he might keep his information to himself if the girl made it worth his while. Lawrence didn’t have to tell his boss anything he’d discovered, but what he did find was enough to make her the primary suspect.
Leaning his forehead against the door, he stuck his eye to the peephole, just to let her know he saw her. The door cracked open and he lost his balance, almost falling against the hard oak panels. An old woman looked around the edge of the door.
“What do you want?”
Her cold marbled eye gave him the creeps, and he doubted she could even see out of that freakish thing. The fact that she was even alive baffled him, because she looked more like a mummified corpse than a living creature. He cleared his throat, leaning in close. “I need to speak with Miss Kent.”
“You have the wrong apartment.”
“No. This is the right apartment,” he said. “Can I ask your name, ma’am.”
“No, you may not.”
His shoulders dropped and he sighed. “Listen, we could make this easy, or I could come back with a warrant. Then you and the door would cease to be an obstacle.”
He could have sworn the old woman growled; the sound sending shivers crawling up his spine.
The door slammed in his face.
“Shit!”
His vision exploded with stars. Reaching up, he pinched the bridge of his nose, positive the door had broken it. When he pulled his fingers away, he expected to see blood, but there was none. Pulling a small mirror from his jacket pocket, he checked his reflection; a little red, no real damage.
“Old bitch,” he muttered.
Hearing the rattling of the chain unlatching, he put away his mirror and stepped back. The door swung open, but the old woman stood a few feet inside. Behind her, darkness cloaked the room.
“You can look all you’d like,” she said. “But do it from where you stand. You’re not welcome here.”
A disgusting odor wafted from the gloom; a mixture of fresh gamy meat and burning grease.
“God what is that stench?” he said, covering his nose. “What the fuck are you killing in there?”
In the darkness, an old woodstove burned, but its flames failed to illuminate the rest of the room. He took a step inside, but the old woman moved in front of him. Her one gray eye looked over his shoulder but her sharp blue eye stared hard into his.
“What is your biggest fear?” she asked.
“What kind of question is that?”
A cloud slid over her iris, and Lawrence looked closer, unable to turn away. The cloud swirled, transfixing his gaze, pulling him inward. Shaking his head, he blinked hard, trying to yank his eyes off hers, certain she’d crawled into his innermost thoughts.
“Leave here, and forget what you know.”
He took a step back. “What are you trying to do, cast some weird voodoo bullshit spell on me? Now get out of my way.”
She didn’t budge, and like a magnet her marbled stare drew his eyes back to hers.
“I’m so sorry you’re feeling ill,” she said. “You really must watch what you eat.”
“What?” he said. “What makes you think I’m sick?”
Maneuvering around her, he took a step further inside, but his stomach gurgled. Cold sweat popped from his skin, stippling his forehead and rolling down his temple. A burning sensation tore down his midsection and settled in his lower colon. He made it no further. Clenching his sphincter, he backed toward the door, hoping to make it to the lobby restroom, but knew he wouldn’t.
His bowels released, splashing the back of his fresh pressed pants and oozing down his legs. The stench followed, traveling upward, curling into his nose, turning his stomach. Spinning away from the apartment, he gagged from the smell and puked in the hallway. Behind him, he heard the old woman chuckle.
“Such a shame,” she said, her voice changing to that of a sweet old lady. “I hope you feel better soon.”
He wiped his mouth and tried to straighten but his boiling gut kept him doubled over, gripping his stomach. “You did this!”
“Dear, I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“I don’t know how,” he said. “But you did.”
A long loud gurgle tore from his gut and he backed away, hoping to make it outside. The old woman coughed, curled her nose in disgust, and closed the apartment door.
Chapter 26
Griggs
Her phone rang with no answer. More than worried, Phillip tried over and over but she wouldn’t pick up. Until now, he hadn’t considered going over there and breaking down her door to see if she was okay, but if necessary, he would. That would be a little extreme, and if she were just asleep, it would be very embarrassing. For now, he’d wait, he had work to do.
The modest house sat on the edge of town. His gaze followed the neat picket fence separating the yard from the rough gravel road. Staring past it, he imagined Allie sitting on the soft green grass, their children playing, a puppy rolling on the lawn. A dog barked, and his eyes tore away from the fence. She’d love it here, and so would he. The old man lounged on the porch, his rocking chair squeaking with every movement, the sound echoing across the yard and through the car’s open window.
Phillip dropped his phone into his pocket and stepped out of his vehicle. The neighborhood was quiet, with only the thump of his car door closing, and the rhythmic creak of the old man’s chair breaking the comfortable silence. Pushing open the small wooden gate, he winced when the wood scraped across the walk and the hinges screeched in protest. Stepping through, he closed it, strode to the porch and stopped at the bottom step.
“Excuse me, sir,” Phillip said, pulling his badge from his inside coat pocket. “Are you Nathan Griggs?”
The old man smiled. “The one and only.”
“My name is Phillip Chambers. I’m a detective from the Port Bella Rosa police department.”
The old man stopped rocking and leaned forward, distress creasing his kind weathered face. “Did someone die? Oh lord if something happened to my daughter—”
“Oh no, sir. Nothing like that.”
Mr. Griggs released a sigh of relief. “Thank goodness, you about scared this old man to death. Nothing worse than outliving your children.”
“I apologize. I didn’t mean to scare you.” Phillip motioned toward the empty rocker. “Mind if I have a seat?”
“Come on up, son. Want something to drink?”
“No, sir, thank you. I’ll only be here for a minute.” Phillip took a seat in the rocker across from the old man. “I came to ask about the murders in the Brentwood area, ninety or so years ago.”
The old man nodded. “Ah yes, the Dark Zone,” he said. “I saw on the news that it’s happening again. I tried to tell ‘em.”
“Yes, sir, you did,” Phillip said. “And I read your statement from years ago. You mentioned something about a demon.”
The old man chuckled. “You know, they didn’t believe me. They didn’t listen to younguns back then. Mind you, I’m not crazy, never have been. I’m about the sanest person you’ll ever meet; got a PhD in Physics. I have an open mind, and might have an active imagination, but I know what I heard and saw, and I’m far from insane.”
Phillip grinned, instantly liking the old gentleman. “You look totally sane to me.”
“So what would you like to know?” Mr. Griggs asked. “My memory ain’t as sharp as it used to be, but I’ll do my best.”
“That’s all I ask.” Phillip opened his notepad. “Now if I understood the report correctly, you lived near the murders?”
“Yes, sir, I lived on the first floor of the Brownstone apartment building.”
Phillip shook his head. “I’ve never heard of that. Is the building still there?”
; The old man’s forehead creased in thought. “Now hold on a minute. I think they’ve renamed it. Now it’s The Sandstone or something.”
Phillip looked up from his writing, “Sandstone? Could that be the Sandalwood Apartments?”
Mr. Griggs slapped his knee. “That’s it.”
Phillip wasn’t surprised. That was Allie’s apartment building, and the report said the murders happened in the same area.
“Anyway,” the older gentleman went on. “There’d been five murders, right near my building—two just outside the front door. I saw one right after it happened, and I’ll tell you like I told the police then, it wasn’t a human that did it.”
“What do you think it was?”
“I don’t rightly know for sure, but I can tell you what I heard.”
“I’m all ears.”
“You see, there was this girl that lived upstairs on the third floor, a real looker she was. Went by the name Isabella.”
“Isabella? I’ve heard that name before.”
“I’m not surprised. Oh she was a doozy,” the old man said. “Anyway, she’d run off and got married to a young fella by the name of Noah, but they didn’t bother getting permission from her grandmother.”
Phillip looked up from his writing. Noah? Apparently this story was fairly well known and not just the ramblings of some crazy old lady as he’d first suspected. Not wanting to lead his witness, he decided not to mention it and continue his questions. “So her grandmother was upset?”
“You bet. Back in the day, you just couldn’t do that. It wasn’t proper. Most of the time, though, nothing came of it. There’d be a bunch of talk and gossip—ruined reputations and all that nonsense—but eventually the excitement would die down. But the grandmother, Mrs. Hoffius, was just plain evil, I tell you. I saw her from time to time, and she plum scared me.”
“Old ladies sometimes scare me too,” Phillip said, images of Allie’s neighbor flickering in his mind. “Now, you’d mentioned witchcraft in your statement.”
