Sick House

by Jeff Strand

  "Okay," said Maddox, moving aside.

  Hector didn't move.

  "Heck, do what she said."

  Hector reluctantly stepped against the wall, giving them enough room to pass. Gina, Boyd, Adeline, Paige, and Naomi slowly walked through the hallway into the kitchen.

  "What's next?" Maddox asked.

  "Next you let us go downstairs undisturbed. I don't want to see your hideous face while I'm talking to these people. Do you understand?"

  "How do I know you aren't trying to trick us?"

  "You don't. You accept that giving me a few minutes to talk things out with your innocent victims is better than me immediately banishing you again. And the more you talk, the less charitable I'm feeling."

  Maddox looked unconvinced, but he didn't try to stop Gina as she led the Gardners down the stairs into the basement. They walked slowly, both to give the impression that they weren't trying to make a hasty escape, and because Boyd looked like he could barely move.

  Gina flipped the light switch. Nothing happened.

  "The bulb shattered," said Adeline.

  "So we'll chat in the dark." She closed the door as they walked down the stairs.

  "Can you really send them back?" Paige whispered.

  "No. I would've done it right there. And they're going to figure that out soon, even though all three of them are idiots. So we don't have a lot of time."

  "You can't send them back, but can you stop them?" Boyd asked.

  Gina hesitated.

  "You can't stop them?"

  "I didn't come in here wearing a white hat and pretending to be your savior," said Gina. "I can at least say that you're better off now than you were before I got here. That's something, right?"

  "I guess. Is there something you can actually do to help us?"

  "There might be."

  "What?"

  "You're not going to like my answer."

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  "What's your answer?" asked Boyd.

  "First of all, this is all confidential," said Gina. "You don't speak a word of what I'm about to tell you to anybody else, okay?"

  "Because it'll sound crazy?"

  "That's part of it, I guess. Mostly it's because I murdered your home invaders. Don't talk to the cops about it. If I help get you out of this, you tell them that we didn't speak to each other. You didn't even know I was in the house. Got it?"

  "Got it," said Boyd. He'd suspected the whole "murdered them before they became ghosts" part anyway.

  "I puppeteered them. Put my own thoughts into their minds, made them think they should come to my house, this house, to apologize. I drowned one of them in the koi pond, I chopped up another one with an axe right around where we're standing right now, and I beat the last one to death with a fireplace poker, also right around where we're standing now. It wasn't in cold blood. They did far worse to my sister."

  "Why did they kill your sister?" asked Naomi.

  "They were hired by somebody who needed to kill a witch."

  "Why did they need to kill a witch?"

  "For a really awful ritual that would have given him her power. Don't worry, I ruined his plan. Our concern right now is getting rid of the ghosts."

  "Right," said Boyd. "I'm still waiting on the answer I'm not going to like."

  "If their three corpses were lying on the floor in front of us, it would be perfect. I'd send them back and they'd be out of your hair. The problem is that I only buried one of them in the yard. The other two are buried hundreds of miles away. I thought that by keeping their bodies apart, they'd be trapped alone on the other side, but obviously I got that part wrong."

  "So we need to figure out a way to bring the other bodies here?" Adeline asked.

  "No. I mean, yes, in theory that would work, but even if I could get the message out to somebody who was willing to do it, it would take a few hours, not counting the time to dig them up. I can't even get Cliff's body. If I could get out of here, it's not like the police would just stand around and watch me dig up a corpse."

  "Which one is Cliff?"

  "The tall bald one. Cliff Fletcher."

  "The choking one."

  "Right. I buried him in my flower garden. Which means that his body is..." Gina turned and pointed. "...on the other side of that wall."

  "Then all we need to do is break through a concrete basement wall," said Adeline. "No problem. Oh, I guess we also have to worry about the black ooze that melted the cop. No biggie."

  "Your sarcasm is setting a bad example for your daughters. I'm not saying that we can get to his body. I'm saying that maybe, maybe, no guarantees, if we can lure Mr. Fletcher down here and get him reasonably close to where he's buried, I might be able to send his ghost back to his body."

  "So he'd be buried alive?" asked Boyd.

  "Yes."

  "I actually like that answer."

  "Being buried alive is better than what he was going through on the other side, but, yes, he would cease to be a problem for us. That still leaves the other two."

  "Right."

  "Have you been able to fight back?" Gina asked. "I'm sure I know what you're going to say but I want to make sure I have accurate information."

  "No," said Boyd. "They can hurt us but we can't hurt them."

  "But you might be able to fight them on equal ground."

  "Meaning...?"

  "I've never done this before. Never tried to do this before. Never even considered doing this before. I don't know if it will work. I don't know if it's the right thing to do even if it does work. It could cause things to be infinitely worse than they are."

  This lady had more disclaimers than an antidepressant commercial. "Please just tell me what you're thinking," said Boyd.

  "I can send one of you to the other side."

  "To Hell?"

  "To the place that's not quite Hell, yes."

  She was absolutely right. Boyd did not like this answer. "The benefit is that I can actually fight them?"

  Gina nodded. "If it works, and if you can withstand the agony and terror, and if you can find them, I think you might be able to fight them."

  "Aren't they in the house, though?"

  "They're not entirely in the house."

  "I don't understand."

  "I don't, either. That's why I keep making excuses."

  "Let's pretend it does work," said Boyd. "Best case scenario, if you take Cliff Fletcher out of the equation, it's still a two-against-one battle, right?"

  "Yes. But you have an advantage. Wisdom that I'm going to share with you. When you cross over, treat it like a sick joke. Have fun with it. And that may give you the power to control it."

  "That sounds really messed up."

  Gina nodded. "It is."

  "Can you pull me back out?"

  "I believe so."

  "'I believe so' is pretty weak."

  "I agree," said Gina.

  "Okay, so, to recap: I can risk being stuck in Hell forever, or we can sit around and wait for the ghosts to kill us?"

  "That's how I see it. You've been trapped in the house longer than me, so you might have a different perspective."

  Boyd shook his head. "Sounds about right to me." If he thought about it too much, the unimaginable horror of this scheme would make him decide that "wait for the ghosts to kill us" was the right way to go, so he decided not to think about it. "Let's do it."

  "Boyd, no!" said Adeline.

  "We don't have a choice," Boyd insisted. "I can beat these jokers in a fair fight."

  "It wouldn't be a fair fight!"

  "I can beat them, I promise." Of course Adeline knew that he could promise no such thing; this was more for Paige and Naomi's benefit.

  "If somebody has to go, it needs to be me," said Adeline. "You're too badly hurt."

  "His injuries won't matter on the other side," said Gina.

  "See?" said Boyd. "It'll be worth it if only to stop bleeding to death."

  "Your body here will continue to bleed
," said Gina.

  Boyd didn't want to talk to her anymore. He pulled Paige and Naomi close, though not close enough to aggravate his many wounds. "I have to do this," he said. "I'll be thinking about you and Mom the whole time, and it'll keep me safe. Nothing is going to happen to me."

  He knew that his daughters were going to beg him not to do this, but what choice did he have? If he had to sacrifice himself to save his family, he wouldn't hesitate. Not even if he was condemning himself to an eternity of suffering. Though, again, it was a decision he wanted to finalize quickly, before he started weighing the pros and cons.

  "What do you have to do?" Boyd asked. "You don't have to actually kill my body, right?"

  "I'm sending you to a very bad place," said Gina. "It requires death or blood."

  "Death or blood, not death and blood, right?"

  "Yes."

  "Well, I've got the blood part covered."

  "Previously spilled blood won't work."

  "Of course it won't."

  "Don't go, Daddy," said Naomi, burying her face into his chest. It hurt, but he didn't stop her.

  "I'm going to be totally fine," Boyd assured her. She was eight years old. Too old to believe in Santa Claus, and thus too old to believe that her father would be totally fine if a witch sent him to Hell.

  "Children, step away," said Gina. She said it softly, but there was a frightening edge to her voice that caused Paige and Naomi to step away from Boyd without hesitation. "Boyd, give me your arm."

  "What are you going to do to it?" Boyd asked. He suddenly worried that the answer was "chop it off."

  "Draw fresh blood." She grabbed his arm with both hands, then gave it a violent twist, wringing blood out of the long cut Maddox had given him. It was not the worst pain he'd experienced today, eliciting a really loud wince instead of a scream, but it was certainly unpleasant. Gina continued doing this for at least thirty seconds. Boyd's eyes had not adjusted to the darkness well enough to gauge the size of the pool of blood on the floor. He could, however, see that the gash was now about an inch longer on each end.

  He could hear Adeline, Paige, and Naomi all weeping.

  Gina stopped twisting.

  "Are we done?" Boyd asked through gritted teeth.

  "We're done with that part."

  The upstairs door opened. All three ghosts were there. They were bound to realize they'd been conned eventually, but Boyd hoped they hadn't come to that realization quite yet.

  "Finished with your chat?" asked Maddox.

  "Almost," said Gina. She ran her fingers along Boyd's wound, using both hands.

  "We're done waiting."

  Gina curled her fingers. Oh, shit, she wasn't really going to...

  She dug her fingers into the gash.

  The ghosts began to walk down the stairs. Maddox was in front, and his ribcage burst from his chest again.

  Gina pulled her fingers apart, prying open the wound. This was the worst pain Boyd had experienced today.

  And then he wasn't in the basement anymore.

  He didn't know where he was. A desert? Why would he be in a desert?

  No, he was on an iceberg.

  In a jungle?

  A womb?

  All of these places at once? None of them? Was he still in the basement and just hallucinating?

  One thing he did know: the pain of Gina prying open the wound on his arm had already been demoted to second place.

  He screamed until his jaw exploded, spraying flesh, bone and blood an infinite distance.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  Boyd dropped to the floor.

  Adeline prayed he was just unconscious. She crouched down next to him and grabbed his wrist, which was slick with blood, trying to find a pulse.

  "Stop!" Gina shouted.

  For an instant Adeline thought she was talking to her. Then she realized that Gina was, of course, talking to the ghosts.

  "What did you do to him?" the bruised ghost asked.

  "He's at peace now. You won't be able to drag him back with you."

  The ghost sneered. "I feel like you don't quite understand our intentions."

  "Leave this house," said Gina. "Immediately."

  "If we could leave, we'd be long gone from this shithole." The ghost pointed to Paige and Naomi. "You made those kids orphans for no reason. That's all on you."

  "I accept the responsibility."

  "You're trembling a bit, old lady. Sure you're not trying to bullshit us? If you could really twitch your nose and send us back to Hell, why do you look so scared?"

  "That's a ridiculous question and you know it."

  "Is it? Because I feel like I could throw you onto the floor and rape you to death." The ghost ran his hand over the protruding broken rib bones. "Lots of bones inside of you all at once. They'll all hurt, but some more than others."

  "You've crossed to the other side, seen evidence of life after death, gained knowledge that has been sought by humanity since the beginning of man's creation, and the best you can do is make dick jokes?"

  The ghost stepped closer. The other two ghosts did the same.

  "It's cute that you think it was a joke. If it were a joke, there would've been an amusing punchline. I meant in a completely serious way that I would literally throw you to the basement floor and rape you while the broken bones of my ribcage penetrate your chest, in and out, in and out. That seems to me like a pretty unpleasant way to go. Not as bad as what we did to your sister, but..."

  Adeline couldn't imagine the trauma that hearing this was inflicting upon Paige and Naomi, but that was a concern for later. For now, she still couldn't locate a pulse on Boyd's wrist or his neck, and she didn't think he was breathing.

  "Say what you want about me," said Gina. "Don't disrespect my sister."

  "Oh, we already disrespected her to death. Do you even know everything that happened to her, or did you only see the end result? I can give you a blow by blow if you want."

  "You're playing with fire."

  "No, we're playing with a sad, pathetic old hag who would have done something to us by now if she could. One warning was convincing, but you keep giving us chance after chance. Why would you do that? I think—and feel free to zap us back to Hell if I'm wrong—that you can't do shit to us."

  "We can't hurt you," said Adeline. "But we can save you."

  "Save us?" The bruised ghost's ribs slid back into his chest. "And why exactly do you think we need saving?"

  "Enough of this garbage," said the dismembered ghost. "They're trying to keep you talking. We're supposed to kill them, so let's kill them."

  Adeline stood up. "What's the big flaw in your plan?"

  "Victims who won't shut the fuck up."

  "Think harder."

  "You can go ahead and think for me. I'm done with the games."

  "Do you want a clue?"

  "Sure."

  "Exit strategy."

  "Okay."

  "I'm going to let my eight-year-old daughter tell you what you've overlooked. Naomi, if these ghosts come back as real men, what problem do they still have?"

  Naomi shook her head and was silent. Adeline's point would've carried more impact if it was made by a little girl, but she shouldn't have expected Naomi to be able to play along right after watching her father collapse, possibly dead.

  "This house is surrounded by cops," said Gina. "You heard the helicopter, right? You might complete your ritual, but you're still screwed. How do you explain being in a house with five dead bodies, two of them children?"

  "That is indeed a bit of a pickle. Lucky for you, you'll be dead and don't have to worry about that predicament."

  "Then come and get us," said Gina. She looked at the choking ghost. "How many inches of water did you drown in? I bet I could make you drown again in the pool of Boyd's blood."

  The ghost didn't seem concerned about that outcome. He ran for Gina, arms out as if planning to wrap his hands around her neck and choke the life out of her for poetic justice.

>   Gina grabbed one of his hands, swung him around as if doing some sort of strange dance, and then released him. The choking ghost sailed across the basement and then passed through the wall, right where Gina had said his body was buried.

  Everybody just stared for a moment.

  "What did you do?" asked the bruised ghost.

  "Returned him to his corpse. He's now rotting inside of his old body, fully conscious but trapped under six feet of dirt. Who's next?"

  The bruised ghost and the dismembered ghost exchanged an uneasy glance.

  "What, you thought I was bluffing?" asked Gina. "Witches don't bluff. That is Cliff Fletcher's fate: an eternity of being buried alive. You can join him, or you can go back upstairs. I'm done being polite, and I will not ask you again."

  "You bitch."

  Gina extended her arm toward him. "Come closer and say that again."

  The ghosts did not come closer, but they did not return upstairs. Though Adeline wanted to believe that the humans finally had the upper hand, of course Gina was bluffing. There was nothing she could do about the other two ghosts. That was all on Boyd. If he still existed.

  "I asked you to leave," said Gina.

  The ghosts didn't move. Nor did they say anything. They were both staring at the wall where their friend had disappeared.

  Adeline looked over at it as well. The cement wall had a small circle of green, as if a patch of mold were rapidly growing upon it. The patch grew and grew, becoming about the size of a lopsided hula-hoop.

  She glanced at Gina. It was clear from the woman's expression that she didn't know what was happening.

  The patch stopped growing.

  A hand emerged.

  Then an entire arm. A human arm; not a ghostly one.

  And then the tall, bald man crawled out of the hole in the wall, but he wasn't choking any more. He didn't look like a drowned corpse that had been underground for a while. Aside from the dirt, he looked healthy. Strong. Angry.

  The black ooze poured down, sealing up the hole.

  Gina seemed to be on the verge of panic. Adeline didn't know what the woman had expected, but it definitely wasn't this.

  "Fletcher...?" asked the bruised ghost.

  Fletcher wiped some dirt off his face. His scowl disappeared. He suddenly went from looking pissed off to looking positively joyous.