by A. I. Nasser
Karen’s not going to go so easily.
John knew that, but he owed it to her to try. He owed it to their son. Whatever evil had found its home inside her, he really felt like it was tied to the house. If he could get her away from here, out of Cafeville and back in familiar territory, there was a chance he could save whatever remained of the woman he loved. He didn’t care if his cheating tore their marriage apart; at least, he didn’t care right now.
You can’t leave. What are you going to do, Johnny-boy? Are you really going to go back to your mundane city life where you couldn’t write a book to save your life?
“Yes,” John said to the empty room.
You can’t do that!
“Watch me!”
And what about me?
John stopped typing, the sounds in the house suddenly gone, his thoughts deafening in the emptiness. For a second, he heard the voice in his head as loud as someone whispering in his ear.
“What about you?” he asked.
John waited, but there was no reply.
Chapter 21
“I’m not going back.”
John stood patiently in the kitchen door, watching as Karen ran the water over the dishes in the sink and proceeded to scrub one after the other. His mind should have been focused on the fact that she had been wearing the same outfit for three days straight, her clothes wrinkled from having had been slept in. He should have been taking a closer look at her blistered feet scarred with splinters from the attic floor where she had been spending most of the last few nights, alone.
Or at least he wanted to believe so.
Instead he was trying to remember when the last time they had had a meal was; one that warranted her current dishwashing chore.
“Karen, please,” John begged, his voice weak. He hadn’t called June yet, and he was hoping he wouldn’t really have to. Karen was his wife, after all, and there had to be a part of her still inside that shell of a body. He had to believe there was a way to reach her.
“What’s wrong, honey?” Karen’s voice came back, raspy, unlike her. “Can’t find a reason to stay now that your mistress is gone?”
John sighed. “Karen, the book’s done. There’s no reason for us to stay.”
“On the contrary,” she said, dropping the dish in her hand. John watched it shatter as it hit the ceramic floor. “I told you before, I want to move out of the city. I guess I shouldn’t be too surprised that you weren’t listening.”
John’s eyes were fixated on the broken plate, shards littering the floor around her bare feet as she dropped a second one. She didn’t flinch as the sound of breaking china echoed in the kitchen.
“We can find somewhere else,” John said. “Just not here. This place isn’t good for us, Karen. Cafeville isn’t good for us.”
She dropped a third plate, and John knew she wasn’t going to stop until all the dishes in the sink were lying in pieces around her.
“But I’ve made friends here, John,” she said. “So many friends. People who care about me.”
“We can always visit June and Hank during the holidays.”
Karen chuckled, a sound that was foreign to him, and for a moment he wanted to turn her around just to make sure it was actually Karen he was talking to. “June and Hank are not my friends, they’re yours.”
“That’s unfair.”
“Is it?” Karen suddenly stopped what she was doing and turned around to look at him. The gaze he received sent chills down his spine. “Is it really? Tell me, husband dearest, did they know about you and Eva?”
John knew where this was going and tried to think of a way to change subjects. “This house is poisonous,” he said.
“Answer the question!”
Her voice was shriek, loud and piercing. It seemed to rattle the walls around him. He could sense her anger everywhere in the kitchen, the force of it suffocating him as he stood still and met her gaze. Her scowl made him cower, and he suddenly pondered actually leaving her behind. This was not his wife.
“They knew nothing,” John said.
Karen’s scowl softened and a smile found its way to her lips. Somehow, it made her look even more intimidating. John watched in horror as his wife slowly made her way towards him, his eyes drawn to her bare feet as they scrunched on the shards of broken china, cutting deep and drawing blood. She didn’t seem to notice, her smile unfaltering, as if she had no sense whatsoever of what she was doing.
He pried his eyes away from the bloody footsteps she left behind, looking up into eyes that mirrored madness and fury, a stark contrast to her smile and the calmness of her face. She stopped only when she was a few inches away, her eyes locked on his, and she reached a hand out to his face.
John flinched at the cold touch, the warmth of the gesture lost in the horror he felt as she stood so close to him.
“I’d like to believe you,” Karen whispered. “I really do. But, it just seems so unlikely.”
John felt a shiver run down his spine. For a few seconds, he could see Karen’s face shift and be replaced by an unfamiliar image of someone else before returning back to the more familiar features of his wife.
“Trust me, Karen, they know nothing.”
“Trust you?” Karen frowned, her expression suddenly changing as she frowned at him. “That’s asking for a little too much, baby. All things considered.”
John didn’t know how to answer her; the only thing he could do was step back and put some space between them. “You’re bleeding,” he whispered.
Karen looked down at her feet, then back at her footprints. She smiled again and shrugged, as if she had no idea how that had happened.
“How about a break?” John ventured. “We can just go home for a few days, see what we’ll do about moving out here, and then come back.”
Karen looked over his shoulder at the suitcases he had left next to the front door, and then back at him. She shook a finger at him, slowly, and clicked her tongue in disapproval. “You don’t look like you’re packed for a few days, Johnny-boy,” she said, and the way she said his name made his heart stop. “You’re not trying to trick me, are you?”
John shook his head quickly. “We’ll leave the bags here,” he suggested. “Just you, me, and the clothes on our back.”
He could see she didn’t believe him, her eyes searching his for a catch. He just needed to get her away, even as much as outside the front door. He believed that a few miles between her and Cafeville might just be enough to snap her back to her senses.
What if that doesn’t work, buddy? What if whatever’s in this house has somehow found a permanent residence inside her?
It was a risk he was willing to take. Despite everything, this was his wife, the woman he loved, the mother of his child. He had to try.
He was about to speak again when someone began slamming on the front door. Karen’s eyes went wide as she gasped in mock surprise. “Someone’s at the door, sweetie,” she whispered. “Did you invite someone without making sure I was decent first?”
John peered over his shoulder at the door, then back at his wife. He wasn’t expecting anyone, but was willing to believe that fate had dealt him a card in his favor.
Another slam, this time harder.
“Well, don’t leave our guests waiting.”
John didn’t need another invitation, quickly turning and racing down the hall. He didn’t bother to see who it was, welcoming any interruption that might make the current situation less horrifying than it was.
David Green stormed in as soon as John opened the door, the tall man immediately grabbing him by the collar and slamming him against the wall. John felt his teeth clatter as his head ricocheted against the hard surface, the strong smell of alcohol barely hiding the stench that already filled the house.
“You son of a bitch,” David Green hissed. “I’m going to see you dead for what your wife did to my Eva!”
John tried to break free of the man’s grasp, but the vice-like grip made that impossible. The man�
�s eyes were blazing with fury, and John knew that no matter what he said or did right now, David was going to take his suffering out on him and Karen. John could see it in his eyes; David Green knew who killed his daughter.
“Why?” the man yelled.
Karen began to laugh, at first just a soft chuckle that slowly grew to an uncontrollable fit. It sent shivers down John’s spine, and when he looked her way, he saw her standing in the kitchen threshold, leaning against the frame as she watched the scene in her hallway unfold. John could see David’s features change as he set eyes upon the woman he knew had killed his daughter and had burned his home to the ground.
David Green let go of John and immediately made for Karen, his stride quick, his goal only a few feet away. John quickly got a hold of himself and sprinted across the hall, grabbing David by the back of his shirt and catapulting him into a wall. The surprise attack threw the man off, and for a second David seemed unable to decide which of the two Kriks he was going to go after first.
Apparently, John seemed like a greater threat, and the man quickly landed a punch that sent John to his knees, jaw pulsating with the force of the blow. In an instant, David had his hands wrapped around John’s throat, strangling him, lips pulled back in an angry sneer as his eyes reflected a murderous intent.
John tried to break free, but the man’s grip was too strong. David wasn’t going to stop until he finished the kill, and the pressure his thumbs were applying to John’s windpipe threatened to break the cartilage there and kill him.
John helplessly slapped at the hands around his neck, his blows doing nothing more than angering the man further.
Suddenly David Green’s grip loosened and his eyes widened in surprise. Blood splattered all over John’s face, and he looked past the man’s surprised features at Karen as she raised and dropped her arm quickly and repeatedly, the shard of broken china in her hand stabbing into David’s back.
David Green tried to turn around, but his efforts were wasted. Karen was stabbing at him like a woman on fire, and within seconds, the man’s tall framed was lying dead in the middle of the hallway, blood pouring out of his wounds in streams.
John quickly pushed away from David Green’s limp body, the man’s dead eyes staring out into space as Karen relentlessly continued her attack. John saw the smile on her face as she toiled, and at that moment he knew he had lost his wife forever. He pushed himself to his feet, and without a second thought, raced towards the front door.
He needed to get out, now, before Karen decided to take out the remainder of her bloodlust on him.
The front door slammed shut before he could reach it, and as he grabbed for the knob, he felt a heavy blow to the back of his head.
John Krik’s eyes rolled back in their sockets and the world around him suddenly darkened as he dropped to the floor.
Chapter 22
June Summers knew that it was going to be a terrible day.
The minute she had woken up, she could feel it in her bones. There were mornings when she would get up and out of bed with a spring to her step, a lightness about her that made her feel like she could take on the world and come out victorious. On mornings like that, she tackled the day with vigor, her mind concentrating on the ups and playing down the downs, and she usually ended up back in bed at the end of the day with a smile on her face.
This morning had not been one of those days.
For starters, her joints had screamed out in agony the minute she had tried to walk to the bathroom. Actually, every joint in her body seemed to have had joined forces and decided to give her hell in unison.
Hank had passed by late as well, and he had been quiet for most of the drive into town, only briefly discussing the weather and smiling when she told him about her new shipments coming in today. He had offered to help, but she was still holding out for Karen.
She knew Karen Krik had been traumatized by the burning of the Greens’ house, Hank having told her how shell-shocked the woman had seemed when he had arrived with John at the scene. She had tried calling, a gesture that had gone nowhere, and had hoped to grab a ride out to visit her.
It didn’t seem like Hank wanted to offer, though, and she didn’t want to force him into anything. He had never denied her anything, bless his soul, but she didn’t want to cross the line between politeness and imposing.
Now she was going over the shipments she had signed off for this morning, and frustration was an understatement to how she felt. Half the things she had ordered hadn’t come through, and she had given the man in blue overalls hell over it, especially since she had promised clients that she’d have what they wanted by now. She already anticipated angry calls and exasperated complaints. Plus, the door to the back room storage space was causing problems, and she knew that she would be calling Hank in soon so he can find a way to open the damn thing.
The day was definitely not going as planned.
So, when Karen Krik walked into the shop looking like she had just been through the storm of the century, June was already halfway between deep frustration and full-blown anger, seriously contemplating whether or not to close up shop early and just head home. The woman standing just inside the door to the store, staring at her with a frown that was more threatening than June would have expected, was three hells away from the Karen Krik she had come to know.
June stood up from her crouched position, her hand still on the cutter she had been using to open the deliveries, and stared back at Karen in confusion. If the burning had affected her, Hank had really downplayed just how bad she had taken it.
“Oh God, you look like hell,” June said.
Karen cocked her head to one side, her eyes locked on June, her fists clenched by her side as she just stared at her.
“Honey, are you okay?” June asked, knowing well that she wasn’t, but oblivious to what else she could possibly say. She looked over the woman’s shoulder, hoping to see John coming in behind her, because she truly doubted that Karen was in any position to come into town looking the way she did.
“You knew, didn’t you?” Karen whispered, her voice barely audible, yet the words ringing loud and clear in the empty store.
“What did you say?” June asked, hoping she had misheard.
Karen took a few steps forward, slowly, her eyes locked on June as the scowl on her face seemed to deepen. June unconsciously took a step back, taking note of the woman’s bare feet, dirty and bloody as she seemingly floated towards her.
“You knew, June,” Karen said, more assertive, as if stating a fact. “You knew what he was doing, and you didn’t tell me.”
June’s mind began to race as she tried to understand what Karen was talking about. She remembered what Hank had told her about seeing Eva Green at the Krik’s house, and her eyes suddenly widened in comprehension.
Karen smiled and nodded. “So you did know.”
June quickly shook her head. “Karen, my God, of course not,” she said. “Hank had told me something about seeing Eva Green at your house, but I thought nothing of it.”
Karen suddenly stopped, her smile vanishing as she looked hard and long at June. “So Hank knew, too?”
“No, honey, no,” June said, realizing that she had put Hank in a tight position, especially since she knew how close he had become to the couple. “It was just an observation. We never thought there was anything going on. What makes you think something happened between them?”
Karen chuckled, and the sound of it sent chills down June’s spine. “I know, June,” Karen said. “Ana told me everything.”
“Ana?” June frowned, not recognizing the name.
“She’s my new friend,” Karen said, starting towards June again. “A real friend. See, she cares about me, June, enough to tell me about what was happening in that house behind my back.”
“I don’t know who this Ana is, Karen,” June said, the counter stopping her retreat, “but I think you should talk to John before you take anybody’s word for it.”
Karen stop
ped again, looking behind her as if she had just remembered something. “John?” she muttered. “John’s a liar, June. Why would I believe anything he says?”
“He’s your husband.”
“He’s a liar!”
June’s eyes clenched shut for an instant at the sudden outburst, her hands beginning to shake. Karen was not herself, and June had no idea what to say that would calm the brunette down. Her heart stopped when Karen pulled a kitchen knife out, the blade glinting in the fluorescent light of the store.
“You’re a liar, too,” Karen said softly.
***
John opened his eyes slowly, wincing from the throbbing at the back of his head. He waited for the world around him to fall back into focus, blinking repeatedly as he tried to make out his surroundings. There was little light, and the shadows cast by the single bulb were long and dark. He was sitting in a corner of the room, the cold ground beneath him creeping through his pants and causing his body to shiver. There was dampness in the air; he could feel it on his skin, and as he tried to move, to get up and stretch his aching legs, he felt the taut ropes around his wrists dig deep into his skin.
Slowly, the realization of where he was began to sink in. It was the basement’s stench that hit him first, his senses slowly returning and bringing with them the appalling scent he had tried for days to avoid. He looked around and his eyes settled for a second on the furnace in the corner, and then on the windows.
He looked up at where his hands were tied, the ropes twisting and turning around the piping, his efforts to pull out of the knots unyielding. His mind raced with possible solutions, but nothing seemed to present itself, and the pain in his head was making it difficult to think.
He was trapped.
Slowly, he began to remember what had happened, how Karen had attacked David Green and killed him, how he had tried to escape. He remembered the blow to his head, the darkness that had followed, and wondered how Karen had found the strength to drag him down into the basement and tie him up.