by Amy Cross
“I identified at least eleven deaths in that area that might have been the result of a serial killer. The links are spurious and in some cases I guess I'm stretching a little, but the more I read, the more I started to feel like there was something else going on, something that was weaving in and out of the facts, hiding behind all the uncertainty. Trawling through local newspaper archives, I noticed some similarities about the bodies. Specifically, their teeth.”
“What about their teeth?”
“They all had a few teeth missing. More than a few, actually. Like, half a mouthful was gone.”
“So you think there's a mad dentist on the loose?”
“I think there's potentially a mad something on the loose.”
“That's kind of a weak link,” she pointed out nervously. “Lots of people have a couple of teeth missing.”
“Some of these victims were in their twenties,” he continued. “I know it's not conclusive, but there's at least a possibility that someone was killing people. I mean, serial killers collect trophies, don't they? I watched enough Dexter and CSI to know that. It's like an ego thing, they want to keep something that reminds them of everything they've done. Some people collect stamps, some people collect comic books, and some people collect the teeth of their victims.”
“So you think you've found a serial killer,” she replied, “and no-one else ever noticed before?”
“Well, I am something of a genius.”
She sighed.
“There was this guy,” he continued, “named Ellis Hathaway. From what I can tell, there were a few suspicions about him, but nothing got done. Eventually he was murdered by his own daughter, which I guess cleared things up, and then she killed herself by jumping in front of a train.”
“Gross,” she replied. “And after this Hathaway guy died, there were no more deaths with missing teeth?”
“Well, maybe a few...”
“Sounds like your link is pretty shaky,” Rose told him. “Unless he's a ghost serial killer?”
“Or a copycat started working in the area.”
She sighed again.
“I think I was the first person who looked at the data in this particular way,” he continued, “and the first person who really bothered, and I think the cops, for whatever reason, won't touch anything related to Marshall Heights with a ten-foot barge pole. It's like...” He paused again. “I might be completely wrong, but what if there was someone at Marshall Heights who was basically killing people on and off for, like, a decade, and no-one caught on? And then maybe he died and someone else took over? Rose, I don't know if it's a good idea for you to be there. Not because you're a girl, but because you're a living, breathing human being with a mouthful of teeth that might prove too tempting to whatever sicko's in the area.”
“What about Megan?”
“Rose -”
“I don't want you to be right, because that's bad news for my sister.”
“So you'd prefer a ghost story?”
“This place is insane,” she continued, looking across the street and spotting the ominous sight of Marshall Heights in the distance, towering over the other buildings in the area. She ran through all the possibilities for a moment, trying to piece them together in some way that might make sense, before finally she felt as if her head might explode. “No way. There's no way any of this can be true. There can't be a goddamn serial killer hiding in plain sight like this.”
“Why not? Only the dumb ones ever get caught, the ones who get cocky or the ones who make mistakes. What about the ones who keep plodding on, avoiding getting noticed? What about the boring, everyday serial killers that no-one suspects because they're too damn good at what they do? We like to kid ourselves that people like that would always get caught, that there's some kind of moral order to the world, but I'm starting to think that there's a lot more that might slip through the cracks.”
“No,” she replied. “It's just not...” Pausing, she tried to tell herself that he was wrong, but in the pit of her stomach she was already starting to feel that maybe, just maybe, he was onto something.
“Eleven people went missing from the area near Marshall Heights over the past ten years,” Ben said after a moment. “That's not people who actually lived in the building, that's people who lived nearby, but... Their bodies were all found, and all with a significant number of teeth missing. The cause of death wasn't always the same. Some of them were strangled, some of them were stabbed or whatever, but maybe that's just what someone would do if they wanted to avoid being noticed. The tooth thing seems to be important, though.”
Sitting on the steps, Rose stared at her trembling hand.
“Are you still there?” Ben asked.
“Yeah,” she replied, her voice filled with fear.
“Do you want me to go on, or have you heard enough?”
She paused for a moment, thinking of Megan. “Go on.”
“The deaths were pretty spaced out,” he continued. “One a year, maybe a little more often than that. None of the bodies were found at Marshall Heights, but maybe that's just because no-one ever really goes to poke around in that place. I don't get it, Rose, but for some reason the police just seem to be blind to anything that happens there. It's almost like they're scared, or they just want to ignore it and pretend it doesn't exist. Either that, or Ellis Hathaway had something on the local cops and they couldn't touch him.”
“So these eleven victims might just be the ones who ended up being disposed of away from Marshall Heights,” Rose replied, her blood running cold at the thought. “There might be...”
Her voice trailed off.
“No,” she said finally. “This is way too crazy to be true.”
“A ghost story would be a good cover, don't you think?” he continued. “Make people nervous, make them scared to ask too many questions if they heard weird noises at night.”
“I really don't want to believe any of this,” Rose said firmly, still staring at Marshall Heights in the distance. “I don't even want to think that someone might have hurt Megan.”
“You can't go back there,” he replied. “This isn't a game, Rose.”
“It was never a game. My sister's missing, remember? And my aunt.”
“Exactly, so you need to go to the police again and find some way to persuade them.”
“But -”
“The police, Rose. I'm sorry if I egged you on and got you all worked up to go racing around on your own initiative, but this shit is serious.”
“They won't listen,” she told him. “I've already talked to them, there's no chance.”
“Rose, this could actually be dangerous.”
“It's okay,” she replied, watching the building and starting to feel that something was staring back at her. “I think I've got a better idea.”
Four
Stopping suddenly, Beth turned and looked back along the walkway.
Nothing.
Still, she was certain she'd heard something a moment ago, and that she'd felt something brushing against her shoulder. She was used to hinted presences, but this was something stronger, something that seemed to want her attention.
Checking her watch, she saw the time:
3pm.
She stared along the empty walkway for a moment, watching every shadow, every corner in case something moved. Eventually she realized she was holding her breath; she forced herself to breathe more normally, but she still felt as if something had been -
“Hey.”
Spinning around, she saw that someone was standing right in front of her. She took a step back, her heart racing until she saw that the man staring down at her was someone she recognized.
“Sorry,” Michael continued, with a faint smile, “I didn't mean to scare you.”
Beth swallowed hard.
“Are you okay?” he asked.
She nodded. She wasn't used to having anyone speak to her. Most people in Marshall Heights just hurried along, barely even making eye contact.
<
br /> “Out playing alone, huh?”
She nodded again.
“Me too,” he replied. “Well, not playing. I'm checking up on the plumbing, and planning some painting work, and restoring a few of the gas systems. It's a whole barrel of fun, but someone's got to do it.” He stared at her for a moment. “So... You didn't see anyone come along here just now, did you?”
“No,” Beth said cautiously.
“I thought I saw someone out of the corner of my eye,” he continued. “I guess it might have been you, but it seemed like someone taller.” He looked along the walkway for a moment, as if he too was searching for something. “You play a lot in the walkways, don't you?”
“Sometimes,” she replied.
“Ever see anything odd?”
“Like what?”
“Like anything that shouldn't be there.”
Beth thought about it for a moment, decided to lie, and finally shook her head.
“Nothing? Huh.” He paused. “What about in that room the other day? I caught you and your friend in flat 813, remember?”
“We were just playing.”
“And you didn't see or hear anything unusual?”
She shook her head.
“Well...” He paused again, staring at her as if he didn't believe a word she was saying but couldn't bring himself to flat-out call her a liar. “That's good, I suppose.”
“I should go,” she continued, stepping past him before he put a hand on her shoulder.
She flinched.
“How's your tooth?” he asked.
She turned to him.
“I remember the other day,” he continued, “when I found you and that boy in flat 813, I noticed you had a loose tooth. It looks juicy, like it was about ready to come out.”
“It did.”
“That must be cool.”
“I guess.”
“Have you got any more?”
She stared at him. “No.”
“No more loose ones?”
“Mum says it was my last baby tooth,” she told him.
“Is that right?”
She nodded. “Can I go now?”
He stared at her, before letting go of her shoulder. “Of course. I wasn't holding you here, just... Congratulations on the tooth.”
She forced a smile, before turning and hurrying along the walkway. She could feel his eyes on the back of her neck but she told herself that if she looked, she'd only encourage him. When she got to the far end, she finally glanced back and saw that – just as she'd suspected – Michael hadn't moved; he was staring straight at her. Turning, she hurried through to the stairwell and immediately began to head down to the next floor.
She hated days when Toby wasn't available to play. Without Toby, she noticed weird things happening, but some days Toby was just nowhere to be found.
Five
“Hello?” Rose called out as she got to the bottom of the steps. “Anyone down here?”
With her laptop balanced in her hands, she waited for a reply. Next to her, a large yellow sign offered a stern warning: BASEMENT. HAZARDOUS MATERIALS. NO UNAUTHORISED ACCESS.
“Hello?” she called out again, her voice echoing slightly. “Anyone?”
She paused.
“Of course not,” she muttered finally, stepping forward and keeping her eyes on the screen, waiting to see if any of the graphs moved. “At least, not anyone who should be here.”
When she reached the next room, she looked around and saw that it was mostly bare, save for a few sacks of what appeared to be cement dust. Having already begun to feel as if Michael Powers was somewhat creepy, she couldn't shake the image of him sneaking about down in the basement, and he was the last person she wanted to bump into at that particular moment. She had her pen-knife clipped into her belt buckle, ready to defend herself if necessary. She'd never actually used a knife in any kind of confrontation, but she figured it couldn't be too difficult.
A part of her wanted to call Ben again, to have him on the phone while she looked around the basement. At the same time, she figured she didn't really need him; besides, his serial killer theory had unsettled her, and she was reluctant to find out what else he might have come up with in the hours since they'd last spoken. As she made her way across the room and peered into the next, darker section of the basement, she realized that for better or for worse, she was on her own at Marshall Heights.
“Hello?” she called out cautiously.
No reply.
Taking her phone from her pocket, she switched on the flashlight app and used it to light the way. The next room was empty, save for a few thick metal pipes running along the far wall with what appeared to be black duct-tape applied to several points, while the room after that was even more bare, with just four concrete walls and a low, rough ceiling. As she continued to make her way from room to room, Rose was starting to feel as if she was on a hiding to nothing, but the basement remained the only part of the building that she hadn't yet explored. Besides, she wanted to disprove Ben's serial killer theory, and the best way to do that seemed to be to check out the most isolated part of the building and make sure that it wasn't being used as some sick body storage area.
Checking the laptop screen, she saw that none of the readings seemed to be any different.
Stopping when she reached the far room, she looked around for a moment and saw that she'd come to a dead-end. A set of metal pipes ran along the ceiling, but apart from that the whole place seemed empty.
She turned to go back.
Stopping suddenly, she saw a figure standing in the distance, silhouetted against one of the doors she'd just passed through. She paused, but after a moment she realized that the silhouette was short, and that a child seemed to have followed her down to the basement.
“Hey,” she said cautiously.
The figure stepped forward, and finally the flashlight caught the features of a young boy, no more than ten or eleven years old.
“Hey,” Rose said again. “I was just... What are you doing down here?”
“Nothing,” the boy said flatly, his eyes fixed on her. “I didn't think you'd be able to...” He paused, frowning as if something about her puzzled him.
“My name's Rose,” she continued, holding the laptop and phone with one hand while reaching out to him with the other. “Pleased to meet you.”
“Toby,” he replied, ignoring the offered hand. He looked at the laptop. “What's that for?”
“I was just... taking some readings.”
“About what?”
“About the building.” She forced a smile. “Are you playing down here alone?”
“No.”
“So what are you...” She glanced across the dark room, but there was no-one else to be seen. “Are you with someone?”
He nodded.
“Who?”
“I don't think you can see them,” he replied.
“I can't -” Before she could finish, one of the graphs on her laptop screen began to change, indicating some kind of increased activity in the area. She turned to look over her shoulder, but there was still no sign of anyone.
“They don't like this time of day,” Toby explained. “It's their least favorite.”
“It is?” Checking the screen, Rose saw the time: 3pm exactly.
“This is when they find it hardest to get through,” Toby continued. “It's the worst part of the cycle for them. Twelve hours later, at the other end... That's when it's easier.”
“Easier to get through?” Rose asked. “What do you mean?”
He shrugged.
“Who are you talking about?” she continued. “I don't see anyone around.”
“That's because it's hard for them to get through from the dark place,” he replied. “I already explained that.”
“But who are they?”
“They...” He paused, looking away for a moment, almost as if he was listening to something. “They all want to come through,” he said finally, “but mostly, only one o
r two of them ever manage it. The best time for them is three in the morning, that's when the barrier is weakest. It's the same all over the world, but at certain points it's even weaker, and Marshall Heights is one of those points.”
“You remind me of someone,” Rose replied cautiously. “Do you mind if I ask you some more questions?”
He stared at her.
“How do you...” She paused. “How do you know who they are?”
“I met one of them.”
“You did?”
He nodded.
“Can I meet one of them?”
He paused. “I don't think you want to.”
“Maybe I do.”
“The only time you can meet them,” he continued, “is at three in the morning. That's the only time they even have a chance of breaking through. Things are different then.”
“Breaking through from where?”
“From the other side.”
“The other side of what?”
“They're...” He paused, staring at her with a dark, almost mournful expression. “They used to be here,” he continued finally. “They used to be just like everyone else, but then they died. Now they're over there in the dark place, but they want to come back. I suppose they could try to come at any time, really, but 3am is when the barrier is weakest. That's when they can be heard, sometimes they can even be seen. Some of them try to cross, most of them don't make it but the strong ones, the ones who know what they're doing... They can make it, at least for a little while. Staying permanently is even harder.”
“They...” Taking a deep breath, Rose felt a tightening sensation in her chest, as if fear was starting to take grip. Instinctively she glanced around, but there was still no sign of anyone else.
“You should help her,” Toby said suddenly.
“Who?” she asked, turning back to him.
“The woman on the tracks.”
“The -”
“Before it's too late.”
“What woman on the tracks?” she asked, as a passing train caused the basement to rumble. “Is someone on the train tracks?”
“Not yet,” he replied, “but when she's there, you should definitely help her.”