‘We’ll never go back.’ Ebon shuffled in his seat.
Hayley’s head began to pound.
‘And what about Mampy?’
‘He’s not with us,’ Ebon stated, showing the first hint of remorse since the interview began.
Lenka bowed her head and scanned the veneer of the desk top, unsure of where to put her gaze.
The children were currently in the playroom enjoying warmer surroundings than her office. It gave her time to think. She threw her cigarette on the floor and trod on the glowing ember, twisting her high heel to ensure it was extinguished. Heading back in through a fire escape and walking towards the reception, she checked in on the children, gave them a smile and told them she wouldn’t be long.
Briefing the receptionist to keep an eye on the pair, Hayley checked her phone again as she stepped into her car.
She needed to speak with Dawn and Lee. Had their foster parents learnt any more details that might help piece this dark mystery together?
Hayley shuddered at the possibilities as she turned the key, firing the ignition.
The still house was of no surprise when she arrived, but the lack of barking when she knocked on the door worried her. Monty was normally first to announce a visitor; his black paws up on the sofa as he barked through the window or bounding round the side with an eager excitement, showing the Labrador’s young age.
Heading to the back of the old farmhouse she stopped to peer through a window, but was unable to see past the reflections on the glass and into the darkened interior.
Hayley breathed in the fresh, country air. Their home was situated on an old piece of farmland. It was less than a couple of miles from the city, but it felt like a world apart. The open green fields, the peace and quiet: she coveted the tranquillity. Even on a day as miserable as this it was a veritable paradise; the kind of place she’d love to raise her Billy.
The Hayeses were foster parents that were certainly well suited and equipped to give unfortunate children a better life. She was glad they had registered, passed the checks and were willing to take on Ebon and Lenka. It could be so hard to place older children, especially a brother and sister. Taking them both meant they didn’t have to be separated.
There was no doubt they’d be treated with love and affection. But did Dawn and Lee know anything about the eerie confessions she had borne witness to earlier? Had the Hayeses unintentionally gleaned information about Ebon and Lenka’s past? Had they heard stories that hinted at the dark truths, taking them as nothing more than childish fantasies?
She didn’t imagine for one moment that the children had been cast out as sacrificial lambs to a supernatural demon, but monsters did exist. They were real; lurking on Internet chat rooms and hanging by school gates. The scraggily beard, the yellowing fingers, the big bloated belly all pointed towards some kind of social misfit.
And what else did the children say about the Ugly:
It likes the smell of children, the taste of us.
Hayley grew cold at the thought.
Making you more naked than you’ve ever been.
Her teeth clenched as she tried not to think about it.
It takes hours for the beast to finish you off.
Her stomach tightened, a mixture of rage and disgust.
Its mouth opens up like an umbrella and sucks you in.
Bile stung her throat.
It was no wonder the children had built up a fantasy to protect themselves from the vile truth. To create a world of demons for such evil to lurk. But this fantasy had done more than shield them from the awful truth of the world, it had made them dangerous. Projecting their own rage outward and onto something they could harm: it had turned them into killers.
The image of the cat’s stripped flesh flashed through her mind.
Violence begat violence. It was a vicious cycle, and one that needed to be stopped.
The poor children.
So angry.
So vulnerable.
So confused.
She thought of her own son, Billy; only a little younger than Lenka and Ebon. What she wouldn’t have done to hug him right then. To know he was safe.
The back garden was empty as she made her way round the side; so was the shed.
Approaching the house she checked her phone once more. Nothing.
‘Hello?’ she nervously called as she gently knocked on the backdoor.
When her greeting was met with silence, Hayley turned the door handle. Finding it unlocked she gently pushed it open and stepped inside.
The kitchen’s strip-light hummed as its harsh illumination fought back the brooding darkness of the building storm outside. Empty cereal bowls sat on the counter with remnants of dried cornflakes clinging to their rims. A fly buzzed through the air, making jagged circles with its haphazard flightpath, whilst maggots crawled through the rotten mulch that lined a neglected dog bowl. Hayley choked on the smell.
‘Mr Hayes?’
Still no answer.
‘Dawn? Lee? It’s Hayley Paterson.’
Dirty marks ran across the hallway carpet, as she headed further into the house, blotting the otherwise pristine, cream shag pile. Following the trail, her nose curled at the strange, unpleasant odour; it was more than rotten dog food. The unidentified stench grew stronger as she followed the trail along the floor. Her ears picked out a murmur; the low hum of a television. She recognised the theme tune to the Children’s Channel, then the increased audio of a commercial break. Her heart pushed into her chest, her breath laboured in fright, at odds with the cheery jingle for kid’s cold medicine.
Turning a corner, Hayley entered the dining room and froze.
Her face twisted with terror and after a few moments her fear addled brain finally accepted what she saw. Fishing her mobile phone from her handbag she slowly walked backwards as trembling hands searched the keypad.
Sprawled across the table, with a pen driven into the soft flesh of his neck, Lee’s eyes were nothing more than deep, dark craters as his blood-covered shirt lay ripped open, revealing a stomach that had been torn in two then pulled to pieces.
‘Hello, Ken?’ Hayley screamed into her hands-free as she sped back to the office. ‘If you’re there pick up. I want to speak with Billy. I just…I just want to know he’s okay.’
Hands tied to a chair and head slumping forward, Dawn’s hair obscured part of her face. The cheek that was visible basked in the sunshine that shone through the window, illuminating the flies that had already started to collect around her ravaged remains. Skin hung, torn and ragged, from the bite marks that made her face almost unrecognisable; her fingertips, nothing more than stumps, shredded to the bone.
Hayley beat her fists against the steering wheel as she slowed in traffic. Tears streamed down her cheeks as the sights of the Hayes’ dining room continued to flash through her mind.
Their dog, swinging from the door handle by its own lead. Its eyes pulled out, its mouth taped up with six-inch nails driven through its snout. Its back peeled and flesh dug out, leaving a sanguine crater carved out by small hands.
Hayley honked on her horn, frustrated at the gridlocked traffic and the radio announcement of an accident up ahead. The sky grumbled above her as the clouds grew darker. She rolled up her window, protecting herself from the sudden onslaught of rain. It was an irrational thing to do; to call her husband and check on her son. But after witnessing death’s gruesome aftermath, after feeling it breathe down the nap of her neck, the first thing that came to Hayley’s mind was the safety of her own family. Their argument this morning dissolved into a meaningless charade, a stupid set-to between mother and son. She didn’t care if he swore, she just wanted his forgiveness and love. She wanted to hold him and know he was safe.
He wasn’t a bully, it was just a childish phase; something he would grow out of. Billy would never be like Ebon and Lenka. They were dangerous.
The influence of their traumatic past had deeply affected them. Creating monsters to mask the real evil that hid behind
the face of humanity. But their delusions had gone too far. Abused or not, they were killing and torturing. They had to be stopped.
The police had been called, but they hadn’t taken her warning seriously. The threat of murderous children was treated as nothing more than the ravings of a mad woman; hysteria brought on by the discovery of mutilated corpses. The operator had instructed Hayley to calm down, but there was no time to lose.
Leaving the murder scene, she allowed the approaching police officers to find the tiny, blood-smeared handprints that covered the walls in their own time. They could come to their own conclusions about the child-sized teeth marks that ravaged the dead bodies; about why all the victim’s eyes had been gouged from their sockets; about the gore-soaked graffiti, written with the aid of a torn off dog leg and splattered against the wallpaper.
The foot high letters that dribbled down the walls.
Two words.
The Ugly.
Rushing through the entrance, Hayley stopped for a moment and caught her breath. The traffic accident had held her up for the best part of an hour, making matters worse when her phone ran out of power before she could call through to the office; all that nervous checking throughout the day had taken its toll on the battery.
Straightening her suit jacket she poured a glass of water from the cooler, regained her composure and forced a smile at the front desk.
‘Your son’s here, Mrs Paterson,’ the receptionist beamed as she closed her computer down and slipped on her coat.
‘My son?’ Hayley asked, confused.
‘That’s right. Mr Paterson came by and dropped him off.’ Her smile never faltered behind the thick, red lip-gloss. ‘He said he got your answerphone message but couldn’t get through when he called back. He had a job to attend and wasn’t expecting you to be working so late, so he brought your son here.’
‘And where is he now?’
‘Mr Paterson waited around for ten minutes, but had to leave for the job. Don’t worry, Billy is safe and sound. I put him in the playroom with Lenka and Ebon.’
Hayley’s heart thudded against her ribcage.
‘Are you okay to lock up?’ the receptionist asked, quickly checking her phone and smiling at the contents of a text message. ‘Everyone else has gone, but I stayed to keep an eye on the kids until you arrived.’
‘Would you mind hanging back a little bit longer please, Ann?’
‘I’m sorry,’ her smile growing wider, ‘I have a hot date tonight. Fireman. Square jaw and beautiful, blue eyes. I don’t want to be late. Have a wonderful evening.’
‘Thanks,’ Hayley said, forcing the disingenuous sentiment before walking down the empty corridor towards the playroom, stopping at the kitchen to pick up a knife.
Gingerly, Hayley pushed open the door to the playroom, hearing the sound of laughter coming to an abrupt and guilty silence. The cartoon’s sounds of explosions and pratfalls from the television did nothing to fill the uncomfortable silence as Billy smiled, watching his mum cautiously enter the room. Lenka and Ebon stood either side of him, each holding a hand, their unflinching smiles turned to face his mother with a sinister intensity.
‘Hi Mummy, meet my new friends, Ebon and Lenka. They’re really funny,’ he exclaimed, excitedly. ‘We’ve had so much fun.’
‘I’ve met them before, Billy,’ a fake smile failed to hide the concern that creased her face.
‘They know so many stories.’
‘Don’t listen to them, honey. Remember what we said this morning? You can be so easily led.’
His face tightened at the mention of their previous altercation.
The door shut behind her, clicking closed, and making her jump.
Quickly she countered her instinctive correction towards her son with genuine concern. ‘How are you, darling? Are you okay?’ Now wasn’t the time to bring up the argument.
‘I’m fine.’
His tone was peppered with resentment.
‘Billy,’ she called gently, but firmly. ‘Billy I want you to come here. It’s time to go.’
He looked at his new friends who squeezed their grip tighter on his hands.
‘Can’t I stay a little longer?’ he asked, turning back to his mum.
‘No, it’s home time.’ Hayley held out her free hand out, motioning to take his. ‘Come on, Billy.’ Her other hand clenched the handle of her weapon tightly; keeping it concealed behind her back.
‘Can Lenka and Ebon come?’
‘No, not today. Ebon and Lenka have to stay here. They need to talk to Mummy and her friends.’
The young boy looked towards his newfound companions. They said nothing, but pulled his hands closer to them. Their grins grew wider.
‘I don’t want to go,’ Billy said, although his defiant tone had softened, the gentler she spoke.
‘Come on Billy,’ she cooed, stepping closer.
Looking back at the brother and sister, he slowly and reluctantly let go of their hands. Gripping his mother’s palm, he allowed her to guide him close to her side.
‘Did they hurt you?’ she asked, keeping her gaze fixed on Lenka and Ebon.
‘Mum, they’re nice. They want to help me.’
‘Did you do it?’ she eyed the pair, her voice trembling. ‘Did you kill your foster parents?’
‘She’s been to the house!’ Lenka turned to Ebon.
‘I told you we shouldn’t have come here. I knew it was a bad idea,’ he protested.
‘Why did you kill them?’ Hayley felt her hands shake.
‘We told you,’ Lenka half sang.
‘We had no choice,’ Ebon explained.
‘The effects of the cat wore off,’ the girl continued, their sentences flowing between each other as if spoken from the same person.
‘The Ugly was closing in. We were scared. We did the only thing we knew how.’ The boy stepped closer to the social worker, his eyes brightening with a joyful memory. ‘We ate their flesh.’
‘Slowly.’
‘Over the course of a week.’
‘They suffered for seven days,’ Lenka laughed and followed her brother’s cue, edging closer to the social worker.
‘Keep away,’ Hayley warned, as she edged backwards, feeling the handle of the closed door push into her spine.
‘Their torment served us well,’ Ebon ignored her threat, his grin widening. ‘They screamed so hard their flesh kept us concealed for days.’
‘But we were trapped on the farm,’ Lenka added. ‘And the Ugly was closing in once more.’
‘When you texted to arrange the appointment,’ Ebon carried on, ‘you gave us an opportunity to escape.’
Rain rapped against the window, like a thousand small hands knocking on the glass. The interruption startled the children.
‘It’s here.’ Ebon’s voice was shrill with panic. ‘The Ugly’s coming. We don’t have much time.’
‘You told us we’d be okay,’ Lenka cried in anguish, towards the social worker. ‘That you’d protect us. You said we’d be safe.’
‘There’s nothing coming,’ Hayley told them. ‘There is no Ugly. Not the way you think.’
A loud bang reverberated around the building.
‘She’s just like the rest. I knew I shouldn’t have listened to you. I said she couldn’t be trusted,’ Ebon cried. ‘It’s coming and there’s nothing she can do about it.’
‘It’s not my fault,’ Lenka argued back.
‘Yes it is! You convinced me to reply to her text. You convinced me that we’d be better off with her.’ He pushed his sister with short jabs to the shoulders as he shouted into her face. ‘It’s been circling since we arrived, and all we’ve done is sit here.’
‘Mampy said…’
‘To hell with Mampy,’
Hayley studied their confused faces; they were terrified beyond belief. Her heart began to melt. Yes, they’d performed awful acts, but they didn’t know what they did. Their innocence had been corrupted, but it was not beyond redemption. They needed hel
p, not punishment.
This morning she’d slapped her son, this evening she held a knife, ready to strike out at a pair of orphans.
What had she become?
Dropping the blade, Hayley placed her arms around the two. Stunned by her touch, the children paused for a moment, taking in her compassionate smile before collapsing into her embrace amid a flood of tears.
Pulling them closer she gently rubbed their backs. Her neck grew wet from their grief as they buried their faces into her warm skin.
‘It’s okay,’ she whispered softly. ‘It’s going to be okay.’
Behind her, Hayley heard the television: the irritating theme of the Children’s Channel came to an end followed by the sponsors advert; its heightened volume piercing through her soft words of comfort.
Are you feeling unwell? Wheezy? Cough? Runny nose?
Pasty skin? Chapped lips?
Try Mampy’s Magic Cold Formula.
The embrace relaxed as the social worker turned to the TV. Mampy? Wasn’t that…?
With one sip it’ll slide down your throat with a wondrous taste, making the pain go away.
On the screen was the cartoon image of a large man, overweight and bleary-eyed. He wheezed and coughed with the symptoms of a cold. Unkempt and unwashed, he struggled to keep his eyes open as he stroked his unshaven chin.
It’ll get to work straight away, sending those pesky germs into a panic.
The children were watching, transfixed on the grotesque image of the unwell man. Their eyes were glazed; the shadows from the room dancing in their pupils.
Kill those germs. Make them scream so you don’t have to.
Pasty skin? Chapped lips? Red nose?
Their lips moved in sync, mouthing the words.
Keep the lurgy at bay.
Winter’s coming. Don’t get caught.
Listen to Mampy.
With a new improved recipe. It tastes just like sugar knobs.
A jingle signalled the end of the advert; a chorus of xylophone chimes and piano stabs accompanying a sickeningly sweet yet familiar melody. One she’d heard Lenka and Ebon hum throughout the day.
Mampy knows best. Mampy knows right.
Keep the lurgy at bay, it’ll serve them right.
The children sang along, their words differing slightly.
Year's Best Hardcore Horror Volume 4 Page 24
