Daddy Won't Kill You- The Haunting in the Woods

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Daddy Won't Kill You- The Haunting in the Woods Page 15

by Caroline Clark


  He stepped back, pushing the kids before him. His chest was tight, his breath short. He had to get through this, had to get them away.

  “I don’t think so,” Val said. “You want to go, then go, but they stay here.” She matched him step by step, dragging the ax along as she walked toward them.

  The heavy metal head scraped across the deck, jumping as it bounced over a board and landed next to her leg. Steve could not take his eyes off the ax as it gradually advanced toward them.

  Do something.

  He fumbled in his pocket and pulled out his keys. “Chase, take your sister and wait in the car. Only let me in.”

  “It doesn’t work.” Chase grabbed the keys.

  “Just go.”

  Chase took Lucy and pulled her away. “Dad, your heart?” he asked.

  Val swung the ax up. It winked in the sunshine as it flew past her head and came down to land in her arms. She hefted it as if it were light as a toy.

  “I’m fine. Mum and I just need to chat.” Steve kept stepping slowly backward.

  “With an ax?” Chase asked.

  Val turned her ice-cold eyes onto the children. “Mummy’s coming to get you, kiddies, just you wait and see.” She hefted the ax, to drive the point home.

  “Run,” Steve shouted, looking backward to see that they heeded his warning, and as he did, Val launched at him.

  He ducked left, but the wood of the shaft slammed into his shoulder. He was knocked back, and pain flared from the collarbone and down his arm. He reached out and grabbed hold of the shaft on either side of her hands. Holding on, he regained his balance and swung her around and into the cabin.

  Val hit hard. The blow jarred through the cabin and back through Val, into Steve’s arms. He let go of the ax as her skull bounced into the wall.

  Guilt washed over him as the color drained from her face and she slumped to the floor. Had he hurt her? God, he hoped not, but what was he to do? He looked around to see Chase jump into the car and lock the doors. At least they were safe for now.

  He turned back. Val lay against the cabin, her blonde, shoulder-length bob, and harsh features so different to Lauren, even though the face was the same. As he watched, the hair lengthened and curled, and her features relaxed. It was Lauren again.

  Steve leaned over and ran a shaking hand across her throat, desperate to find a pulse. It was there. He could see her breathing. Her chest rose and fell, so she was alive.

  He closed his eyes at a sharp pain in his chest.

  “Jesus, Lauren, I’m sorry,” he muttered through gritted teeth. His fingers were still on her throat, and he felt her move. Hope soared in his chest as he opened his eyes and stared into the ice blue, mad gaze of Val. He tried to back away, but he was on his heels and off balance. As he tried to stand, she brought the ax head up into his chin.

  It was like being hit with a brick. He bit his tongue, and his teeth collided with the top of his mouth. Tumbling over backward, he landed hard onto the base of his spine. He lay with his back on the hardwood. As shock spiraled up into his skull and back again, leaving him stunned on the deck, his breath came in short, sharp gasps. He blinked, assessing the damage. His jaw felt like an elephant had kicked it, but he would survive if he moved.

  He blinked hard, trying to focus his eyes, but the world was hazy and faded to black. He wanted to rub his jaw, but his arms were sluggish and he had an overwhelming urge to sleep. Something nagged at him as he closed his eyes, something important. The pumpkins, he remembered, just as Val appeared above him.

  She stood over him as Steve blinked away the darkness. He must stay awake. Nausea floated through him, and he bit down, to fight it back. He was just beginning to see again when she blocked out the light. He saw the ax crashing down toward his chest and at the last second, he rolled over right and onto his knees.

  The ax struck the deck. He could see her face, almost at his level as she struggled to pull the head free of the heavy wood. She was so angry, almost manic, and spittle splashed his face as she threw curses at him.

  He tried to stand. He must get away, but everything was spinning, and he stumbled back to his knee. He could see her look of triumph as she raised the ax above his head. Move, he told himself, but his body wouldn’t obey. He stumbled to the right, and she adjusted the ax. It was so large, blocking out the sun as it hurtled toward his brain. He knew the blow would kill him, but his legs still wouldn’t move.

  Val’s face was screwed into a ball of hatred as she poured her full rage into the blow, but just before the ax hit, her face cleared. Lauren was fighting. The ax stopped, poised above Steve as a struggle ensued between Lauren and Val. Val was winning, and the ax came down, but just before it hit, Lauren surfaced and turned the head so the flat of the ax hit Steve on his temple. He dropped to the deck, like a dead weight.

  Lauren stood over Steve, the ax ridiculously large in her delicate hands. His head bled profusely and quickly created a crimson puddle on the deck. He lay so still.

  Val appeared again and decided to chop up the man before her. Then Lauren was back, horrified at the thoughts that kept flooding her brain. She looked down at Steve, wanting to hold him, but she could not stay in control for long. Her hair shortened into the shoulder-length bob and Val was back in charge.

  She raised the ax high above her head and swung it down at Steve’s motionless body. Halfway through the swing, someone jumped at her. She was hit in her side and sent tumbling across the deck, the ax clattering harmlessly away from her. With her breath driven from her body, Val lay winded on the wooden floor and watched Chase stand over his father.

  The boy had pushed her out of the way. Pride filled Lauren’s stomach with warmth but was soon replaced with anger. The idiot child had ruined Val’s plans, but not for long. She scrambled across the deck on all fours toward the ax.

  “Mum, please,” Chase shouted, his voice quivering.

  She stopped and turned to look at him, a wild, evil creature. Val. She snarled at him and grabbed for the ax.

  “Mum, why?” Chase sobbed. He looked down at his dad, at the circle of blood that was spreading from his temple, at his still arms and legs, at his chest that did not move. He looked back at Val, and she changed.

  She let go of the ax and saw him. Her eyes cleared, her hair lengthened, and she saw her little boy. Lauren could see he was hurting and so afraid, yet he stood his ground, a boy so brave it made her want to weep. What had she done? She ran to him and pulled him into her arms. As she hugged him close, she felt powerful love for him and a deep sadness at what she had done.

  “Mum, Mum, what are you doing ... is Dad dead?” Chase asked through tears that coursed down his face and onto her shoulder.

  “I don’t think so ... I don’t know.” She hugged him close to hide her own tears.

  “Dad?” Chase asked, his voice little more than a whisper.

  Lauren pulled away from him and stared down at Steve. He resembled a corpse, surrounded by a spreading pool of blood. The blood made her feel guilty. No, it made her feel good. She giggled at the growing pool of blood. Her face hardened, her hair shortened, the evil returning.

  Lauren shook her head and gritted her teeth. She must fight, but she could feel she was losing; she was so tired. “Chase, get out of here,” she shouted.

  “Mum.”

  “Now! RUN.”

  The look she gave him was seconds away from the monster. Chase hesitated; he had to save his dad. A deep pain seemed to sear into his heart, an ache so big it threatened to swallow him. He knew that his dad must be dead. He wanted to hug him, to bury his face in his hair, but he knew that he had to save Lucy. He looked up at his mum, but the eyes staring back at him could have frozen his blood. He backed away and ran to the car, tears clouding his vision as he fled.

  Lauren and Val fought as Chase left the deck. Val wanted to follow him and smash the ax into his skull. Lauren wanted to check on Steve. She reached down and grabbed his ankle. Still fighting each other, they dragged him in
to the cabin, leaving a puddle of blood and a slick red trail on the deck behind them.

  Chapter 34

  The sun drifted down the horizon through heavy clouds, making the sky blood-red with purple, oppressive bruising. It drew a crimson blanket over the cabin and painted the walls and deck scarlet, hiding the stain where Steve had lain.

  Lauren sat in the rocker, her hair mid-length and slightly curly. It was neither her style nor Val’s but somewhere in between. Lucy was on her lap, cuddled into her neck with Bunkie clutched between them. She was enjoying the apparent normality of her mother, rocking backward and forward, relaxing as the sunset painted them a crimson rose that deepened to maroon as the sun disappeared behind the cabin.

  “Mum, I’m hungry,” Lucy said.

  The rocking continued, and Lauren squeezed a little tighter. She was losing it again and tried desperately to hold onto Lauren, to let the love of her little girl keep her here. Her hair straightened and then curled into the bob.

  “Where’s Dad and Chase?” Lucy asked, still relaxing.

  “They’ve been naughty boys.” Val’s voice was coarser than Lauren’s.

  Lucy giggled. “You sent them to bed. Can I go see them?”

  “No.”

  Lucy tried to get up, but she was held tight. Squirming in her mum’s arms, her eyes flicked back and forth.

  Val gripped her tighter, trying to stop the squirming child from getting away. What was it with children? Why couldn’t they just be good?

  “Mum, I have to pee,” Lucy’s voice was high and breathless, bordering on panic.

  Val rocked the chair faster and squeezed a little harder. Squeeze the damn child till it pops. “Later.”

  The chair rocked forward. Lucy’s big eyes filled with tears and she strained against the arms holding her.

  “Too tight. Want to see Dad.”

  Val laughed and continued to rock.

  Lucy could sense the change, could sense something evil, but she didn’t know what to do. The arms around her were making it impossible to move and hard to breathe, and how she wanted to see Dad or Chase.

  When Mum had come to the car, Chase had told her to stay inside, but Mum looked so normal. There was blood on her hands and Lucy had been scared. What if her mum was hurt? If she had stayed in the car when she could have helped, it would have been wrong. The tears had come then and she had opened the door.

  Mum had changed again, pulling her from the car and dragging Chase after her. Chase had shouted, screamed, and kicked, and he had pulled free. Lucy knew his behavior was naughty and Mum had told her he had been sent to bed, but now she wasn’t sure. What if Chase was good and Mum was bad?

  Tears filled her eyes and she gasped a breath. “Can’t breathe. Please, Mummy, let me go.”

  As the chair rocked backward, her mum became cold, her body bonier.

  Val was gone. Lucy was the girl with the nails in her hands. The pain was instant; she screamed inside.

  As the chair rocked forward, Lucy was back on Val’s knee. Terror and confusion wrenched open her mouth and it stuck in a scream. No sound escaped and her eyes were as wide as dinner plates. What had she felt? She clutched Val as the chair rocked backward, and she became the boy with his leg missing. This time there were no screams, only despair and the dawning of death. His eyes closed as his last breath stuttered into tortured lungs, and the chair rocked forward.

  Lucy screamed and fought against Val. She kicked her legs and freed a fist, smashing it into Val’s chest. Bunkie fell to the ground as Lucy fought for her life. Now her screams were high and desperate.

  Val pulled her even closer, so close that she restricted her breathing.

  Lucy sobbed as the chair rocked backward, back to the nightmare and the pain. She had to stop it. She would not go back to the scary people. She sank her teeth into Val’s neck, and the chair stopped.

  Val bent down and picked up Bunkie. Stuffing the rabbit between Lucy’s face and her shoulder, she pulled the girl even tighter. Lucy sucked on the mottled fur. Her face grew hot. Her lungs screamed for air, and she started to see black. She pushed with all her might, desperate for air as the chair rocked backward.

  In the marital bedroom, Steve was tied to the bed. His right temple and eye were swollen and crusted with blood. His face was as pale as a corpse.

  Slowly, his eyes flickered. Bright light seared into his retinas, and he closed them quickly to prevent the red-hot poker that had stabbed into his brain. He tried to reach his head, but his arm wouldn’t move. Biting down, he opened his eyes gently, just a little, and waited for the pain to stop. Realization hit him; he was tied to the bed, his arms and legs spread-eagled, and he was too weak to move.

  Something nagged at him through the pain. What had woken him? Lucy. He had heard her scream, heard the terror in her voice. He pulled with his arms. The rope cut into his wrists. He tried with his legs. Nothing. But he could push at the base of the bed.

  The world spun out of control and nausea forced him to slump onto the covers.

  “Lauren! Damn it, Lauren, let her go.”

  He kicked at the bed, again and again, anger and fear helping ease the pain that each movement sent spiraling through his battered body. After just a few moments, he was forced to rest. But each time he tried again, and he thought that maybe he was getting stronger.

  The sound of scraping began behind him. He jerked his head as far as it would go and was flooded with joy and relief.

  “I thought you were dead ... and Mum’s gone crazy again,” Chase said, climbing through the window.

  “Thank God you’re okay. Where’s Lucy?”

  “Lucy let Mum in. I escaped, but ... she still has Lucy”

  “Don’t worry, I will save her, but I need to get free.”

  Chase had already started to untie the ropes, his fingers clumsy with the coarse knots.

  Steve helped as he was freed, his head spinning as he sat up. He pulled Chase close, breathing in his scent and hugged him tight. “You are the bravest boy I know, but you have to let me deal with this.” He ran a hand through the boy’s unruly hair.

  “But your heart?”

  “I’m fine,” Steve said, shaking his head to try and loosen the knife that seemed to be stabbing into his brain.

  “Stay out of the way ... If she hurts me ...” What could he say? He had to keep the boy safe. “Hide and regroup, like you just did, but do not let her get you.”

  Chase searched his dad’s face. His hand reached up and hovered over the bloody lump on Steve’s forehead, but then it faltered. “But it’s Mum.”

  Steve touched the lump. It was painful, but his head was clearing. He would be fine, he hoped. “I don’t know what’s happening, but that is not your mum.”

  They locked eyes, both wanting to hug, but both knowing time was short.

  “Go hide,” Steve said, and watched as the boy disappeared through the window. Steve headed for the kitchen.

  Lucy screamed. Steve stopped. The sound curdled his stomach and raised an anger in him he did not believe possible. At that moment, he could have torn Lauren’s head off and spat down the stump. He ran for the door.

  He could see Lucy sitting alone in the chair, covered in blood. Fear froze his legs, and he stumbled forward. Where was Lauren?

  He took a step, unsteady. The chair rocked forward, and Lucy rocked, screaming. Her face was red and covered in tears. He raced through the door, reaching out to her.

  Something glanced off his shoulder and pushed him to his knees.

  The chair rocked before him. Lucy screamed, her eyes so wide. He pulled his own eyes away and rolled over to face the door. His shoulder throbbed and sent fresh needles of pain along his arm and into his chest.

  Lauren rushed him, her face a mask of vengeance, the ax above her head. She slammed it down toward him, spitting and cursing.

  Steve rolled left, and the ax just missed his chest. He kicked out. A lucky blow connected with her legs. He felt the pain shoot through him but p
ushed harder.

  Her legs went out from under her, and she dropped to the deck, hitting hard on her back. Her eyes glazed over, and she lay still.

  Taking advantage of this, Steve rolled over and jumped to his feet.

  She was still down. He fought down his guilt and grabbed Lucy from the chair. She stopped screaming and looked into his eyes. He scanned her quickly. There was no blood, but she was wet, from tears and sweat. Holding her close, he took one last look at her and ran from the deck into the night.

  “I need my babies. Give me my babies,” Val screamed from behind him.

  Steve glanced back. She was on her feet and racing after him, the ax held ready.

  There was nowhere to go. It was dark and oppressive around the cabin, and he could not see the tree line or the lake. If he set off across the open ground, she would catch him easily. He would never make the trees. He ran around the cabin. She was gaining. He could hear her breath, hear her footsteps pounding the grass. He felt a rush of air as she swung the ax at him.

  “You can’t escape,” she screamed as the ax whistled past his arm.

  Steve was breathing much too harshly. Lucy was heavy and cumbersome in his arms; he ducked right and kicked forward, putting everything he had into escaping. The quick turn took her by surprise, and he gained some ground.

  He spotted the SUV ahead and sprinted to it. Please, God, let it be open. He reached the car just before her and ran around to the door, fumbling, searching for the handle in the gloom.

  Lauren was so close, and he felt wind again as the ax just missed his arm. His fumbling fingers found the handle and pulled. It opened the driver’s door. He ran past it to put the door between them. The ax crashed into the door and pushed against him. The metal slammed into his shins, and he grunted with pain but held his ground. Pushing his hip into the door, he threw Lucy across to the passenger seat, climbed in, pulled the door, and slammed down the locks. They were safe for a second.

  “Are you hurt?” he asked.

 

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