by Matthew Tait
But Sadie had never forgotten her.
She stood by the gallows, fawning over the solitary noose like a game-show hostess indicating a prize. Standing here earlier, a kind of torpor had infiltrated her body, and now Alyssa felt the same inertia take hold again, guiding her inside the gallows. As more applause erupted, Alyssa noticed additional bodies added to the tapestry of grinning clown faces … the faces of Carolina, Jeff, and Dillion. No longer incumbent to life, they cheered on with the same wild-eyed abandon as the rest of the dead, urging Alyssa ever onward. In Carolina’s abdomen, a gaping hole told the tale of her demise. In Jeff’s left eye, the same. Only Dillion seemed unscathed … but then she saw the red flower that was his back, a stygian wound from shoulder blade to buttocks.
Where’s Jason? she had time to think. Did he somehow get away –
But then one of Sadie’s hands gripped her own, tugging her forward. Before slipping the noose over her head, Alyssa was given one last glimpse into those fathomless black eyes … and saw nothing in them but the roving forms of Providence Place, of power with appetite finally gaining back what was once denied.
Twenty
Inside the carpark, Jason’s Honda sat unharmed, a bright red counterpoint against the charcoal dark. Although dawn was nearing, no daylight could be seen peeking over the horizon.
The cars belonging to Dillion and Alyssa had vanished.
Never to return, he thought randomly. The headmaster has seen to it.
Feeling himself shudder, Jason turned around to peer back at Providence Place. From this perspective, there was no sign of the force that had occupied Father Parrington or of the unseen world; only the bricks and mortar of something deserted and left to die.
But Providence Place will not die. Not if it has its way with me.
Jason had returned seeking closure, a chance to put aside or even close the books on Providence Place forever. Instead, the school had tasked him with homework, and now he would never be free of her walls or the creatures that dwell inside.
Not if he wanted to go on living.
Facing away, Jason walked back to his car.
Although an opaque mist clung to the undersides of the Honda, this did not prevent him from seeing the objects placed only a few feet away from the tires as he inched closer: small articles rectangular in shape and arranged in a neat pile for Jason to discover.
I’ll help you, the headmaster had said. A rejoinder when Jason had put forth the question as to how he could possibly assist in ushering life back into Providence Place. Well, here was that help: three of their director’s iPhones containing everything that had transpired on this night. Every word; every reaction; every dark happening showing itself to the pilgrims. Jason Wedle was now free to create an entirely new movie of his own, one that would bring a tide of flesh back to the unseen world.
To live, I play the Devil’s emissary.
Bending down, Jason picked up Dillion’s phones. Then he got in his car and drove away.
Twenty-One
Through the darkness of Providence Place, someone moves from room to room, a man of middle age and a scion of the school.
Coming to rest in a classroom containing mannequins, the man lights a solitary match.
For a while the flame simply stutters, as if the hand holding it only desires to observe luminesce for its own sake. Then the match is dropped, first igniting mildewed sheets underfoot before catching onto the vermin.
There is a cacophony of shrieks, followed by silence. The sound is repeated on and on until sitting mannequins also catch the conflagration.
His mother returning was just the beginning.
Soon, he would greet the arrival of others.
And when they came, the man would help usher in the penultimate fire; a fire to end them all and a purging of the world itself.
Twenty-Two
From The Cranston Herald:
EX STUDENT TO REOPEN LOCAL SCHOOL WITH CHRISTIAN INTERACTIVE EXPERIENCE.
In what comes as a surprise to many, the long defunct Cranston school, Providence Place, has found a developer for the 12-acre site. Once a vital piece of infrastructure within the residential area, Providence Place was plagued by a list of tragedies that led to the school’s foreclosure in 2004. Noted for its intricate brick and stonework cornice, the school has since fallen into disrepair. In more recent years, Providence Place developed a sinister reputation, carrying the title of haunted, becoming the focal point of tabloid fodder and interstate ghost hunters.
Jason Wedle, local zealous Christian and once a student of Providence Place, has plans for a themed ‘hell-house experience’ described on the ticket sales page as featuring ‘life or death moral choices where guests would receive in-your-face scenes of dark reality. You will walk the school and encounter individuals who will make choices. The choice is life or death; sin or salvation; Heaven or Hell.’
The Rhode Island Public School System told The Cranston Herald the controversial event will not take place on the site, and a complaint has been lodged with the City of Cranston. A spokesperson said that despite these ‘Hell Houses’ being popular among some evangelical Christian groups, they are strongly opposed to anyone benefiting from the dark history of Providence Place.
The Craston Herald reports that a casting call for the event posted to Facebook last month described it as a ‘Christian Interactive Experience’ and specifically sought out former students for some of its scenes.
Despite recently receiving hate mail, the director is unrepentant.
‘They have stipulated it is offensive,’ Jason wrote. ‘But we are working very hard on this production, trying to shed light on the truth of the world.’
February 2016 – November 2016
Adelaide, South Australia.
About the Author
A vociferous columnist in horror circles since 2005, Matthew Tait published his first collection of dark fiction in 2011. Since then he has been nominated for the prestigious Shadows Award in the category of novel and gone on to publish an illustrated book of non-fiction. Described as writing ‘the sort of horror Clive Barker must read on his days off,’ Matthew’s fiction often treads the line between the familiar and the fantastic. His latest book, Olearia, is the second novel in an epic trilogy of dark fantasy.