by Deryck Jason
Quickly, Wilma grabbed the lock on the window and jiggled it.
“What are you doing?” Crass asked sternly.
“I’m making sure this window’s sealed!”
Crass frowned at her but said nothing.
“What do we do?”
“Wait here!” Crass said “I’m calling Greg!”
Crass moved into the kitchen as Bear stared back at his wife with animal like ferocity. Claws started to protrude slowly from its paws and Wilma could not take her eyes of them. In a heartbeat, the furry monster turned and sprinted round the side of the house. Wilma called to her husband but he didn’t hear her.
MacNamee’s phone rung loudly, breaking the awkward silence in Oates’ Sheriff Station. The jingling, upbeat pop song Greta had changed it to as a joke unsettled him but he answered all the same. His display told him it was Crass calling so he answered quickly.
“Hello Ben what’s up?” MacNamee said as he moved away to a quieter spot to talk.
As Crass spoke he loaded bullets into a six-chambered pistol on his kitchen table.
“The officers outside are gone.”
Crass was blunt, Wilma’s safety was at stake. He was not going to dispense with small talk.
“Where are they? Are they alright?”
“I don’t know!”
Crass was impatient as he was trying to load the gun at the same time.
“Wilma and I looked out a few minutes ago and they weren’t there. I’m worried Greg. Wilma and I are locked up but they don’t know what they’re dealing with.”
MacNamee covered the mouthpiece and called over to Jacobs.
“Ok Ben hold tight. I’m gonna get Sergeant Jacobs to call the station, see where they are, maybe send a backup unit, ok?”
“Ok Greg, but please hurry!”
Crass hung up. Heading into the living room he stood beside his frightened wife. He put an arm around her that told her everything would be alright. He felt however, this may have been the first lie he had ever told his wife. He did not know if everything was going to be alright.
The front door rattled, causing them both to turn. Once Bear had decided it wouldn’t open, the rattling stopped and he moved on to another door or window. After a few minutes of terse silence, they faintly heard the basement door banging. However that door held tight too by the sound of things.
“I need to go upstairs. Just to make sure he doesn’t find a way in up there.”
Crass spoke quietly, which was actually kind of silly because Bear already saw them standing in the living room.
“Stay here. I won’t be more than a few minutes. Just yell if you need me.”
Wilma was more frightened than she had ever been before and Crass spotted it right away. Turning her towards him he looked into her eyes.
“Everything is going to be fine. I promise.”
With that, he kissed her forehead knowing he had definitely made the first false promise to his wife in years. In his head he thought they may survive but things were definitely not going to be alright ever again. Doctor Crass moved up the stairs, he was absolutely convinced he locked the house up so tight he would heard anything forcing its way in, and he was right. Every so often he would something pounding on a window from the hallway. Wilma nervously paced around the living room, walking from the windows to the adjoining kitchen entrance, she listened for any signs of forced entry but there were none. In fact, she hadn’t heard any for a few minutes now. There was only the sound of her husband walking around upstairs. She knew it had to be her husband making the floorboards creak because Bear would not be heavy enough to do so. Suddenly all movement stopped and silence settled heavily around her. With nothing but fearful thoughts to keep her company, Wilma stood alone in the living room. She walked over to the window and looked outside, hoping to catch sight of the creature retreating, defeated. Her hope was a long shot however as she looked out into the brightly lit garden at nothing but grass, trees and a well-manicured row of flower beds. An odd rustling sound started softly behind her. Slowly, she turned, looking nervously around the room. The rustling continued as she walked to the center of the room, puzzled as to where the noise was coming from. She could still hear it. Soft, inconsistent, with quick sporadic movements, and then it hit her where the sound was coming from. Her eyes were drawn to the opening in the wall where soot was falling onto the logs in the natural fireplace. She realized the rustling was coming from the chimney. Bear had found a way in.
“Car 12, come in car 12, over.”
The voice came out loud from the radio in the car but no-one answered.
“Come in car 12. If you do not respond, backup will be dispatched, over.”
Wilma stood motionless in front of the fireplace; she knew the bear she saw out on the lawn with razor sharp claws was slowly moving down their chimney. She had to get the attention of her husband but she had to be very quiet, so as not to alert the intruder. She tried to move backwards but the floorboard creaked underneath her feet forcing her to stay still. Rigid with fear she forced herself to think logically. Questions shot through her mind. She wondered if she would have enough time to go and get her husband before the creature entered the house. She wondered if the old floorboards would give her away, turning Bears’ slow sneaky descent into a sharp drop, putting her in dangerously close contact with him. She stood shaking, pondering her options. About to give up with thinking she almost cried out for her husband and ran but stopped just before that as a thought popped into her head.
“Light the fire!”
The thought, obvious to anyone with a clear mind was like a sparkling revelation to Wilma. Her eyes drifted to the steel box beside the fire. Her eyes moved slowly, as if their very movement would create enough noise to give her away. With a breath she took one large step towards the box, using her memory to avoid the creakiest floorboards around her while also taking care not to have her feet too close to the chimney. Bending slowly sideways, Wilma picked up the fire lighting liquid and the matches. Quickly, quietly, she uncapped the fluid tin and sprayed onto the logs. The crinkling noise as she squeezed the tin had the potential to give her away, but since she had already started she decided to press on, emptying as much as she could onto the firewood. The rustling in the chimney stopped as she slid open the matchbox. Like a deadly game of chess the intruder waited to see what the next move would be. Removing a match from the box she got ready to strike it. She remained still a moment and listened for movement. There was none. Wilma was not going to be fooled however. With a quick swipe she struck the match, lighting it sharply. The sound of the match scoring the box caused Bear to speed up his descent, but he was too late. Wilma tossed the match into the logs causing a voracious burst of heat and flame. The initial blue burst from the fluid shot a quarter of the way up the chimney, scorching Bear’s fur, causing him to lose his footing.
“Ben!”
Wilma screamed, knowing there was no point in being quiet now. Bear tumbled down the chimney, all the way down the sooty stone shaft, into the logs below. Bear landed on his side in amongst the logs, causing his entire right side to catch fire instantly. After frantically kicking himself off the wood, sending embers up into the air, he dove on the carpet, rolling maniacally. Although Bear did not feel pain he did not want to be destroyed, he had a mission to accomplish. And it was unfortunate for Wilma that Bear was unable to feel pain, because if he was able to, he might have ceased his attack now that the entire right side of his body was scorched. Bear was livid. With one eye melted and half a body blackened he eyed Wilma; standing petrified only a couple of meters away from him. Flicking out his claws he charged at her, his rage blinding him to the fact her husband was standing off to her left with a pistol pointed squarely at him. With a skilled eye Crass pulled the trigger as Bear jumped at Wilma. The bullet tore a chunk out of Bear’s scorched fur and altered the trajectory of his jump, causing him to slam into the wall. Taking no time to relish his shot Crass moved in to shoot again but Bear dove be
hind the couch and bolted into the kitchen. Bear momentarily letting up, Wilma released some emotion, throwing her arms around her husband while holding back tears.
“Wilma, we need to get out of here.”
Crass spoke quickly to his wife who simply nodded in agreement. As they stepped out into the hall Crass carefully watched the other entrance to the kitchen while Wilma turned the deadbolt lock as quietly as possible. Her husband was smart enough not to use anything as a lock that required a key for exit, in case they needed to escape quickly. The door opened. Wilma stepped out first, followed by Crass who walked backwards, keeping the gun poised until the door was closed. While he held the gun, Wilma closed the door, making sure she heard the clicked to confirm it was closed properly. Crass kept walking backwards down the steps, watching the door as he did. He knew the creature had to still be in the house. He had locked everything up tight so there really was no way out that wouldn’t be heard. There was little to no sound as they walked down the steps, Crass careful not to trip. His cellphone rung loudly in the house; there was no way he was going in after it. As he listened to his phone ring out, Crass got the feeling he was being watched. He rose his eyes upwards just in time to see a wooden chair being flung through his second floor window. The old man’s reactions were not as quick as they used to be, and neither were his wife’s. The chair, along with shards of glass came crashing down on top of Wilma as Crass watched. The flat edge of the chair’s head struck Wilma hard, sending her to the ground as glass cut into her legs, narrowly missing her main artery. Crass wanted so badly to go to her rescue but he had no time to do so. Swiftly following the chair was the furry demon. Diving, arms and legs outstretched straight down on top of Crass. With a powerful falling swipe, Bear’s claws sliced straight across the old man’s face, causing Crass to accidentally fire a shot from his pistol. Bear landed awkwardly on the ground but it didn’t matter, his powerful claws disarmed the doctor, and that was his main objective. Blood poured from Crass’s cheek, instantly immobilizing the old man. Crouched down while he held his face; his black socks blended in with the dark grass beneath him. Bear turned his attention to Wilma; he paced towards her with claws now red from her husband’s blood.
“No!” yelled Crass “You can’t have her!”
Crass got to his feet and started to run at the creature, but a mistake on his part caused him to miss his target.
Crass thought of almost everything while keeping them safe inside the house including making sure they were living in a personal Fort Knox. The one thing he never thought of was shoes. Wilma was so particular about not wearing shoes in the house that, in their haste to leave, they never put any on. Now Crass was about to step on a particularly large shard of glass, wearing only socks thanks to his wife’s habits. The shard derailed his motion, forcing him to collapse under the pain into a rolling mess on the ground. Bear stood over the unconscious Wilma, claws outstretched; coiling back his arm like a cobra ready to spit. Crass knew he very had little time to do anything about it. Pulling the shard out his foot he dragged his bloodied body to stand. Determination built up inside him, so he pushed forward a few steps and lunged towards the attacking stuffed animal. Three feet was what he hell short by. He could not save his wife; the shard of glass that was in his foot took that ability away from him…
Bear knew this kill was his. In one quick motion he thrusted his arm forward, but something stopped him while he was half way to his target. A wisp of smoke rose from his chest. A bullet pierced straight through him, narrowly missing Crass who was lying on the ground, helpless. Looking up, Bear saw a cop standing thirty feet away, pistol aimed, mouth agape. Bear smirked and brought his arm down hard, straight into the chest of Wilma Crass. The officer opened fire, but all he did was create holes. Bear was not stopped. Again he drove his claws towards Wilma’s chest as the officer’s clip emptied.
Bear had managed to strike Wilma, but he was not sure if it was a fatal blow thanks to the officer’s bullets slowing his movements. His body now in tatters, he had to finish Crass while there was enough of him in tact to do so. The officer did not move, instead he simply stood, staring in shock at the living stuffed bear that just attacked a woman before him. Bear was not interested in the officer; he was interested in Wilma’s husband. He turned, expecting to see the doctor lying helpless on the lawn but was instead met with something else: the flat end of a shovel. Crass had limped over to the wall of the house where the gardener had left out a shovel, despite Wilma’s instructions for him to put all tools away after use. The injured doctor used the shovel to hoist himself up and now used it as a weapon to destroy the demonic bear. A hard hit sent Bear to the ground, followed closely by Crass who drove the sharp end into the creature’s neck area, severing its head. He breathed a quick sigh of relief but it was not over. Bear’s good eye was still open and his body was trying to get to its feet again. Furiously, Crass brought the shovel down again and again, hacking off the limbs of the once fluffy being. The limbs however, were still moving, each one wriggling independently in different directions. Crass turned to the officer.
“Help her!”
Officer Lu ran across the lawn to assist, simultaneously calling for an ambulance on his radio. As the officer helped his wife, Crass hobbled to the wall and picked up a small blue cuttings bin. He hobbled back and chopped up the limbs of Bear some more, then chopped up the face. With a few scrapes of the shovel he swept the bits into the cuttings bin and went to his beloved wife.
Benjamin Crass tore at his own clothes, ripping off strips to try and stop his wife’s bleeding. He checked her pulse and started to administer CPR.
“Is the ambulance coming?”
He was speaking to Officer Lu, but Lu was distracted. The sight’s he had just seen were distracting him to no end.
“Hey!”
Crass’s voice was powerful, snapping Lu out of his trance.
“Is the ambulance coming?”
Lu simply nodded. As Crass administered CPR, he started to realize he may already be too late. The stern, rigid old doctor started to tear up as he furiously tried to save his wife.
“Come on Wilma, stay with me. Stay with your old grumpy bastard of a husband!”
With no response from Wilma, he turned to anger, directed at Lu.
“Where the hell were you? You were supposed to be protecting us!”
“I’m sorry doctor,” said Lu sheepishly. “My partner and I went for coffee.”
“Where the hell is he then?”
Lu did not respond. The officer did not want to tell the doctor the truth, that they were given spotty information as to why they were there guarding the doctor and his wife. That Lu and his partner did not feel there was any real danger, so they went for coffee and the barista gave them the wrong drink, which they only realized after they had left and his partner had walked back in the cool evening air to get it remade. Thinking about the circumstances, it was too ridiculous, even for Lu to comprehend. No, he chose not to tell any of this to Crass, instead he said nothing, quietly praying they would not be the cause of a woman’s death, Wilma’s death.
Crass’s stare was piercing, his face glistened with blood in the moonlight. With his hands he was pressing down on his wife trying to stem the bleeding but his face was pointed squarely at Lu’s. If his hands weren’t being used right now to save his Wilma, he would have used them to strangle the life out Lu. He was furious. As the sounds of the ambulance drew nearer, Crass simply stared. Right now, in the frame of mind he was in, he would be capable of murder but at that moment he had more important things to worry about.
CHAPTER 39
Chomping sounds danced around the main hall of the Sheriff’s station. MacNamee only had half of an egg mayonnaise sandwich, he wasn’t overly hungry. His cellphone vibrated furiously inside his pocket, shining through the fabric proudly. The ringer barely had time to kick in before he answered.
“Ben! Christ I thought we lost you!”
Jacobs overheard and headed
over to MacNamee to eavesdrop.
“I got one of them!”
MacNamee grabbed Jacobs arm.
“You’re kidding?”
“No Greg I’m not, I got the one that killed Greta.”
Tears fell from MacNamee’s eyes. He used his hand to wipe them away.
“The bear? It’s gone?”
“It’s gone.”
Crass spoke quietly. His face was bandaged and he sat in a hospital room, waiting for news about Wilma’s condition. MacNamee suddenly realized he was lost in his own selfish thoughts of revenge. He was so busy thinking about Bear’s demise he never even asked how Crass and Wilma were.
“Thanks for letting me know Ben. Are you and Wilma alright?”
“I’m alright Greg, but Wilma…”
“What about her?”
“She’s…she’s holding on right now. The doctors don’t know what’s going to happen. That thing got her good Greg. It’s a miracle she even made it the hospital.”
MacNamee didn’t say anything. There wasn’t really anything he could say except that he was sorry to hear that news. But he didn’t. Crass knew he had MacNamee’s condolences.
“Anyway Greg I better go, I just thought I’d let you know there was one less for you to worry about.”
“Ok, you call me and let me know when Wilma gets better ok?”
“Ok, will do. Be safe.”
Crass hung up. By this point everyone was listening in, waiting to see what the phone call was about. MacNamee put his phone back in his pocket.
“He got one of the creatures.”
A ripple of relief washed over the group.
“Which one?” Matthew asked, praying it was one of the dummies.
“The bear.”
“Oh” Matthew said, realizing he knew nothing about that one.