The Collected Horrors of Tim Wellman

by Tim Wellman

  Even before she got to the Principal's door he looked out and motioned her toward him. "We have news," he said. She walked through his door and saw a gruff looking man in his forties, perhaps, wearing dirty jeans and a rock band t-shirt. He was sitting in a plastic chair reading a newspaper. When he saw her he nodded, but otherwise ignored her presence.

  "This is Mister Allen, our maintenance man. Tell her what you told me, Charlie," the Principal said.

  He looked up from his paper. "I seen one of them girls drawin' all that stuff on the chalkboard."

  Evelyn stepped back. "What?"

  "So, you see, I told you I'd get to the bottom of it," the Principal said.

  "Which girl?" she said.

  "I don't know, one a them brats in your room."

  She narrowed her eyes. "Really, now," she said. "You saw her?"

  "Yep."

  "How did she reach the top part?"

  He looked up, frowned and cocked his head. "I told ya who done it."

  "What's that?" she said. She was pointing to a spot on his pants that was different than all the other dirt.

  He looked down. "What?"

  "That!" she said. "It's chalk. I'm a teacher, half of my life involves chalk. I know it when I see it."

  He jumped up and grabbed her arm. "You ain't blamin' me! You're one a them demons, too!" He raised his hand and she flinched, but before he could land a blow, Steve landed a solid punch to his stomach, dropping him instantly to the ground.

  "I might not approve of your interfering, but I'll be damned if I let a man hit a woman," he said.

  The Principal acted as if he might faint, but leaned on the wall and took several deep breaths.

  "Thank you," Evelyn said. "How did you know what was going on?"

  "My class is just across the hall, he said, "and you have a very annoying voice when you start yelling. Mac, call Bernie at the sheriff's office and tell him we caught someone vandalizing school property," he said. "That's settled it, right?" he said as he looked at Evelyn.

  She nodded. "Yes."

  "Fine, fine," the Principal said. "See, Miss Crone, I told you I'd get to the bottom of it." He let out a heavy breath and picked up the phone. "Still, never thought Mister Allen would have done something like this."

  Evelyn could hear him talking as she left his office and walked back to her classroom.

  "What happened?" Susan said.

  "They caught the guy," she said.

  "Who?"

  "The maintenance man."

  A soft gasp came from all the girls as they started to understand what had happened. "That creepy guy," one said.

  "Creepy?" Evelyn said. "How so?" She checked her gradebook. "Tiffany. Do you know more about him?"

  "He keeps asking us if we want a ride home," she said. Several other girls nodded.

  "He tried to pull me into his car, once," another girl said.

  "All of you, come with me," she said, and walked them all back to the Principal's office.

  "Uh, is there another problem?" he said. Steve was still standing in the corner, talking to someone on his cell phone.

  "I want my girls to witness this," she said. "Why have you been trying to get them into your car?"

  Steve looked up. "I'll call you back." He walked over to where Mister Allen was sitting. "That true?"

  "'Tweren't nothin' like ya think," he said. He stood up and pointed at the girls standing in the doorway. "They killed my boy! Sure as hellfire, them demons killed 'im!"

  The girls seemed to part as a big man made his way through. "What ya got, Mac?"

  "Ah, sheriff!" the Principal said. "Fine, fine! We'll get this over with."

  "Are you the sheriff?" Evelyn said.

  "That's what they pay me for, ma'am," he said. "Bernie Combs at your service."

  "This man threatened all of my students," she said.

  "Charlie?" he said. "Is that true?"

  "I didn't do nothin' bad," he said.

  "He wrote a foul message on the chalkboard and filled it with religious symbols," she said. "Scared the girls to tears."

  "Sheeh!" he said. "I understand your concern, but I ain't rightly sure I can lock a man up for that."

  "What?" she said. "He terrorized these girls."

  "I understand that, and it 'tweren't right, not one bit, but I don't know if it were a crime."

  "How about assault," Steve said. "That's a crime, isn't it?"

  "Yep, that's a crime," the sheriff said.

  "Mac and I both witnessed him grab Miss Crone and try to take a swing at her," he said.

  The sheriff looked at Charlie and shook his head. "That true?"

  "She's protectin' them demons so that makes her guilty as they is a killin' my boy," he said.

  "I gotta take ya in, then," he said. "I hate ta do it, but ya broke the law. Even worse, you attacking a woman. You weren't raised like that."

  "And tell him how you've been trying to kidnap my girls, Charlie," Evelyn said. "Tell him all about that."

  "Charlie?" the sheriff said.

  "That's bullshit, I ain't been tryin' ta kidnap them girls," he said. "I just needed ta talk to them alone, get some truth out of 'em."

  "Were you going to beat it out of them?" she said.

  He looked her directly in the eyes and snarled. "If that's what it took."

  "You sick bastard," she said.

  The sheriff grabbed Charlie by the arm and pulled him toward the doorway. "Come on, Charlie. I know you've had a rough time of it, but there ain't no justification t'all to hurt no children." He looked back. "I'll send Jerod over soon as he gets on duty ta take y'all's statements and sign the papers to file charges."

  All of the girls backed up into the hallway as the sheriff led Charlie past them and out the door of the building. They all began whispering to each other.

  "Okay, fine, fine," the Principal said. "All cleared up, now!"

  Evelyn nodded. "Thank you, Steve," she said. She nodded to them both, and walked out the door. "Come on, girls. I just wanted you to see that no one will get away with hurting you." They all seemed to swarm around her, touching her. "But I'm still assigning you homework."

  ****

  Two days had gone by without any further problems. They were still being shunned by the other students, but it had not progressed past a few whispers and awkward moments. Evelyn was handing out the results of a spelling test. Everyone had perfect scores. "You're all very good at spelling," she said. "I was surprised. So, maybe I'll have to make the next test a lot harder."

  "Aww," came a collective grown from the girls.

  Suddenly a fire bell went off and everyone jumped. "Oh!" Evelyn said. "I'm sure it's just a test, girls, but let's line up and calmly leave the building." She stood aside and let the girls walk by, and then followed the last one out of the room and into the hallway. Other classes were coming out into the hall as well, and though they stayed in separate groups, in an emergency, simulated or not, everyone seemed to think less about suspicion and more about safety. But as they got outside, the more familiar distancing reemerged. "Ah, Principal Stevens, this is just a test, right?"

  He seemed panicked and was literally walking around in circles and wringing his hands. "I'm not sure! I'm not sure!" He looked around at all the classes. "Is everyone out? Are all students accounted for?" No one spoke up. "What should we do now?" he said. "Is it safe? Was it just a false alarm?"

  "Is that smoke coming from the second floor?" a teacher shouted and pointed. It was the fifth grade teacher, Bea Saunders, and the longer she pointed the more sure she seemed to be.

  "Oh god!" the Principal said. "It's real! It's real, Miss Saunders!"

  The first grade class seemed to be talking loudly, and then they began shouting. "Mister Cross is missing!"

  "What?" Evelyn said.

  "No!" Susan yelled and pointed at the main doors.

  "It's okay," he said. He was holding a huge old brass fire extinguisher and had several black smudges on his clothes and
arms. "Fire's out, there's nothing to see here."

  "Steve! My boy!" the Principal said as he ran toward him and patted him on the arm. "Fine, fine!"

  Evelyn followed the Principal. "There was a fire?"

  "A small fire, upstairs," he said. "It's out, there's no danger now." He turned to face everyone else. "It's all clear, everyone! You can go back to your classrooms!"

  His class of first graders seemed disappointed. "He's not dead!"

  He looked at Evelyn. "Were all your students in class?"

  "Yes, of course they were."

  "None went to the bathroom?"

  "We all go to the bathroom together," she said. "My girls were in our classroom." She narrowed her eyes. "Why are you asking?"

  He shoved Evelyn and the Principal a few feet away from everyone else and whispered. "Charlie Allen is dead."

  "What?" Evelyn said.

  The Principal grabbed his forehead and wobbled a bit before regaining his senses. "Charlie's dead?"

  "That smoke you saw coming from up there was his body burning," Steve said. "He was dead before I got there, I just put him out."

  "But what... who?" Evelyn said. "Wait a minute, you were thinking one of my girls had something to do with it?!"

  "Shush!" he said. "Don't start a panic now. Mac, as soon as everyone is settled back in, announce over the intercom that everyone gets to go home early today because of safety reasons. Then we'll get Bernie and Jerry over at the Lavlet fire station to come over."

  "Charlie, burned alive?" the Principal said. "Bernie just let him out of jail this morning to wait for his court date."

  "It wasn't an accident, but I'll be damned if I know what could have happened," Steve said. "I think he could have set himself on fire... maybe as a way to burn down the entire school and kill as many kids as he could."

  "And that could have happened if you hadn't put the fire out quickly," Evelyn said. She walked away and back to her girls. "Let's go back to class, girls. It's all safe, now."

  They walked back through the entrance and down the hall. There was no smell of smoke or burnt flesh, no sign at all that a senseless tragedy had just occurred. Just as they all shuffled through their classroom doorway, the Principal came on the intercom. "Is this thing on? Oh, er... this is Principal Stevens. Because we want to be very sure of everyone's safety, we are suspending school for the rest of the day. Please gather up your belongings and leave. Now! Oh. I mean, you're free to go as soon as you can; all of your parents have been sent text messages. Thank you. Er... this is Principal Stevens signing off. Ten-four."

  "The man is an idiot," Evelyn said. She chuckled. "You girls didn't hear me say that."

  "Miss Crone," Susan said. "Are they sending us home because of what Mister Allen did?"

  "What?" she said, and then assumed she was referring to what happened several days ago. "Oh, no, it's not that."

  "Because he's dead?" Betsy said.

  "What?"

  "We all know," Tiffany said.

  Evelyn was shocked. How could they know? For a brief moment a twinge of fear surged up her spine and settled in her throat. "How?" She settled down. "Oh, I guess you could hear us talking about it. I'm sorry, girls, you shouldn't have heard that. It's a horrible thing that's happened."

  Mister Cross wants you to believe one of us did it," Susan said. "No more store discounts for him."

  "He... I don't know what he thinks, girls," Evelyn said. "He's very hard to figure out."

  "Do you think we did it?" a girl in the back said.

  Evelyn had finally memorized their names. "No, Sienna, I don't believe that at all."

  "But what if one of us did do it?" Becky said. "What if one of us stabbed him?"

  "Becky, sweetie, do you know something about this?" Evelyn said. "If you know anything about it you need to tell me."

  "She doesn't know anything," Susan said. "She's just being her usual weirdo self." She pointed at Becky. "Be good, weirdo!"

  "Sorry," Becky said.

  The mood seemed to be unusually light-hearted in the classroom and Evelyn was a bit confused. Were they taking the news the only way their young minds could process it, or were the actually happy that a man who hated them so much was dead? She didn't know. "Anyway, I'll see you tomorrow morning. Be careful. Wait close to the building if your parents are picking you up; otherwise be careful walking home."

  ****

  "He's down here," Steve said, leading a small group of firemen and law enforcement down the second floor hallway. Several were carrying flashlights since the electricity had been shut off on the second floor several years ago over safety concerns. Evelyn was invited; she wasn't sure why, but she accepted Steve's invitation and came along mostly out of curiosity. But a part of her wanted to find clues to confirm exactly what had happened.

  "God! Stinks!" Bernie said.

  "Burnt flesh," one of the firemen said. "Take a good whiff, you can smell lighter fluid or some other petroleum-based accelerate, too."

  Everyone sniffed the air, looked at each other, and shrugged.

  Steve bounced the beam of his light around over the floor and walls, then stopped on the blackened figure slumped against the wall. Around him were twigs and other dry brush, and several cans of charcoal lighter fluid.

  "Looks like he was tryin' ta take the whole damned school with him," Bernie said. "Stupid bastard." He shook his head. "It looks pretty cut-and-dry. Suicide."

  He got closer and his flashlight better illuminated the scene. That's when they all gasped. Above and around him, all over the wall he was leaning against, were crosses intermingled with curse words. It was the work of madness, not desperation.

  "I didn't see this earlier," Steve said. "I guess the fire blinded me a bit."

  "The crosses are exactly like the ones he wrote on my chalkboard a few days ago," Evelyn said. "But there was just a single statement, 'demons rot in hell'."

  "You shoulda seen the jail cell he was in," Bernie said. "Filled the walls with this same shit. Like he were possessed er something."

  "I need to call in the county coroner," one of the firemen said. "I'm not authorized to move a dead body until he declares the cause of death."

  The sheriff bent down and grabbed the burnt and crumbling flesh of Mister Allen's chin and opened his mouth. "I don't see none of the usual reactions to being burned alive," he said. "They usually choke on their tongue... teeth explode." He brushed his hands together.

  "What does that mean?" Steve said.

  The sheriff held his flashlight closer to the body and began to examine it closely. "Look there," he said.

  Everyone in the hallway moved closer except Evelyn.

  "What are we seeing, Bernie?" Steve said.

  "Ain't completely sure," he said. "But I'll be damned if that don't look like a knife wound to me. Right over his heart." He stood up straight again and everyone backed away to give the big man some room. "Cain't be certain. I reckon the coroner will tell us when he gets here."

  Evelyn's mind was reeling. Stabbed. Becky had mentioned it but at the time no one should have thought it was anything other than being burned to death. She caught herself and rested on a calmer thought. Becky had just mentioned a way of being killed. She didn't know that was what happened; it was just something that popped into her mind. She forced her own mind to accept it was a reasonable conclusion to believe someone was stabbed if a conversation about someone dying was overheard.

  "Anyway, let's all get out of here," Bernie said. "We cain't do nothin' for him and the way this floor is saggin' I'm scared we're all gonna fall right through any minute."

  "You all go ahead," Steve said. "I wanted to look for an old book up here, anyway." They all started to leave. "Oh, Miss Crone, Evelyn, can you stay for a moment and give me a hand?"

  She shrugged. "Yes, I suppose so," she said.

  He looked over her shoulder and remained silent until he watched the last of the group go down the stairs. "Sorry, I didn't want the others to know about thi
s." He spoke softly so that only she could here. "Follow me." He stepped over the body and walked a few steps down the hall. She decided to follow without an argument. "Take a look at this." He shined his light on a small area on the floor that had some sort of design scratched into it. "By the way, I looked you up on the internet," he said. "You posted a lot of private information about yourself."

  "What?" she said.

  "Not on any newer accounts, but I found a blog you had when you were a teenager," he said.

  "Oh," she said. She thought for a moment. "Oh shit!" She ran her fingers through her long red hair and winced. "That was a long time ago," she said. "I wasn't the happiest girl in the world."

  "I'm not judging you," he said. "So, you were a witch. I was a comic book geek in high school. Witchcraft, whatever, doesn't matter to me what you choose to believe."

  "Well, it was just a phase," she said. "I stopped believing in that stuff a long time ago."

  "Maybe you shouldn't have," he said. He knelt down and ran his fingers over the scratches. "You can't make them out in this light, but feel this."

  She knelt down beside him, careful to keep her skirt modestly tucked between her legs. "Feels like writing."

  He grabbed her hand. "Start here and move to the right. Feel the letters."

  She tried again. "Oh, okay, I can feel them, now. S U S A N..." She jerked her hand back. "Yeah, okay, you're trying to tell me Susan scratched this in the floor. How many Susan's are there at this school this year, let alone over the past years."

  He grabbed her hand again. "The next name."

  "B E C K..." She jumped up. "No!" She shook her head. "You did this earlier."

  He stood up. "Believe what you want to believe," he said. "I've shown you something important. It's up to you if you accept it or not."

  "All of the names are there?"

  He nodded. "Now, did they do it, or did Charlie do it before he died?" He chuckled. "Were they signing their work or was ole' Charlie naming his murderers?"