by Joe Zito
“Mary, it’s time. Come on out and do what needs to be done!”
Charlotte’s voice seemed closer now to Mary but it was still deadly black outside and she couldn’t see her. What needs to be done? Mary thought.
Without thinking she ran downstairs. She went to the back door and carefully opened it just enough to see outside. Peeking out into the dusty black morning, she could barely see the outline of their barn a few yards away. Run now Mary. Just run away, she thought. She focused her eyes harder. As she did there was a quick, bright flash of something a few feet away from her. And then the slim silhouette of a body emerged from the devil black dust swirling about the farm. It was aunt Charlotte. Mary froze. She felt trapped between the dust and the house. Nowhere to go.
In Charlottes left hand was a long wooden stick. It was the handle of the ax she was dragging behind her on the ground. It flashed its sharp chrome blade at Mary.
She cautiously stepped outside and Charlotte stood in front of her just a few feet away. She had her hair down and it flowed like a ghost against the black wind of the dust storm.
The two eyed each other for a long moment not saying anything. Then Mary spoke. “Is that the same ax you used to kill my mother and father with?”
Mary could see Charlotte’s eyes widened with surprise through the darkness.
“Oh, my dear child,” Charlotte said in a calm tone. “Your mama and papa had the devil in them just like you. I tried to save them. But they wouldn’t listen. I had to release the devil from them, don’t you see.” Her white hair blew softly over her shoulder.
Mary cried out, “You are a killer Charlotte. And you murdered my parents. There are no devils and no demons inside anyone. You are mad! The only devil here right now is you Charlotte. You are the devil and I can take no more!”
At that Mary ran out into the dust. Charlotte howled like a twisted witch in hell and raised her ax. The shiny chrome which she had shined to perfection for this special occasion was blotted out by the dust. Mary was running but she didn’t know where to. She tripped and went face first into the dirt. Charlotte was behind her swinging her ax wildly and speaking in tongues.
“The rapture is upon us child and you still got the devil in you Mary. The time has come to bleed him gone. I can help you. Let me help you before it’s too late.” She kept swinging her ax high and against the blackening dust storm.
Mary was disoriented for a moment as she lay on the ground. She could hear her aunt talking behind her and realized how clear her voice sounded. The dust storm was frighteningly silent even though it looked like hell on earth.
“Come now Mary. It is time.” Charlotte said.
Mary got to her knees and rubbed her head. She found the strength to stand up. As she turned around Charlotte was behind her with her ax held up high. It’s sharp blade laughing in Mary’s face. She screamed and started to run again and made it to their chicken coop and hid behind it. Charlotte continued swinging the ax and speaking in tongues like a mad woman. She seemed to have no sense of direction. She whirled around and around in the dust. Mary could see her from behind the little chicken shack and thought her aunt looked drunk the way she was swinging the large ax around. And then the black dust seemed to swallow Charlotte when a heavy gust of wind blew throughout the farm. Mary lost sight of Charlotte but she could still hear her praying and telling her that it was time to bleed that devil gone. Charlotte’s voice drifted with the wind and dust and became distant in Mary’s ears and then she heard a chilling, sharp sounding scream from out in the darkness. Mary was on her knees, huddled up close to the chicken coop peering out from behind it. She knew something had happened to Charlotte. She heard the scream again. It startled her making her heart jump in her chest. A bright flash came out of nowhere. It sounded electric. And then Charlotte’s scream echoed throughout the farm. Mary built up enough courage and stood up still holding onto the shack. She slowly walked out into the yard; the black dust surrounding her. Tiny pellet sized bits of dust swarmed into her face. It stung and she coughed. She covered her face and peeked through her fingers to see where she was going. Charlotte’s agonizing screams led Mary to her.
“Mary. Please, help me!” Charlotte begged.
As Mary came closer to the sound of her aunt’s voice, the dust began to clear slightly and Mary could see plain as day aunt Charlotte hanging from a barbwire fence. Mary formed an ‘O’ expression of horror on her face hidden behind her hands. Again, Charlotte let out a long and dreadful screech. She was trapped in the grips of the sharp barbwire fence. She had become disoriented in the dust and fell into it. Her body was leaning sideways on it as if she was trying to lay down and take a nap. Her black dress was ripped and torn from the small pointy pricks of metal. They dug in the side of her stomach. The ax she had used to kill her sister with lay on the ground in front of her and out of her reach. Mary withdrew her hands from her face and another electrical charge bolted into the fence making Charlotte howl in pain.
“Mary!” She screamed and held her arm out to her niece.
Mary stood there silent looking at her aunt caught up in the fence watching the electrical shocks from the extremely dry air charge themselves into the fence and then Charlotte’s old, helpless body. They weren’t exactly lightning bolts as if from a thunderstorm but rather freakishly large zaps of electricity like the kind of charge you get from touching a metal door handle after rubbing your feet on the carpet floor. It zapped again and Charlotte cried out in pain and Mary felt nothing.
“Mary please, help me.” Charlotte pleaded sounding out of breath. A medium size splotch of blood covered her chin. Her white hair flew out sideways all tangled in the barbwire. It was a frightening image.
Mary oblivious to her aunt’s agonizing pleas for help was eyeing the ax lying on the ground. She stepped forward with caution. The grimace on Charlottes face was a cross between a smile and agony. “Thank you, thank you Mary,” she said.
Mary bent down and picked up the ax.
“What are you doing Mary? Please, help me get out of this.”
Mary gripped the wooden handle of the ax and brought the large blade to her aunt’s face. She gently caressed her cheek with the ax.
“What in the lord’s name are you doing Mary!”
Mary’s eyes were lifeless and held not an ounce of mercy in them. She moved the ax up and down Charlottes face without cutting her. I could just kill her right now. Chop her head off and run like hell, Mary thought.
“Do it child.” Charlotte said quietly. “Go on. Take my life and then take yours and you can be free of that devil. We can die together.”
The blade found its way to Charlotte’s neck.
“That’s it. Go on and cut me.”
I could do it for my mother and father, Mary thought again. But I would be just like you Charlotte.
Charlotte started to pray quietly to herself. She was humming some religious hymn. And then another thrash of electricity attacked the barbwire fence and it knocked the ax out of Mary’s hands. It fell back to the ground. Charlotte screamed again from the horrendous shock. Mary started to back away slowly from her aunt.
“Mary, please don’t leave me. Where are you going? Please Mary!”
Something deep inside Mary was telling her to just walk away and let it be. Let her hang there and die a horrible death all caught up in the grip of hellish barbwire torture. Mary covered her face again and slowly walked backwards away from Charlotte.
“Mary! Mary please!” Charlotte screamed. “Don’t do this Mary! The devil is still in you. Mary! If you leave me here to die I’ll be there tonight at your bedside to make you see that devil in the mirror! And the next night and the night after that! Mary!....Mary!....Mary!”
Mary could see the image of Charlotte’s old face and blood coated chin slowly moving away from her through the cracks of her fingers. The dark dust blew all around Charlotte shrouding her dying body and outstretched arms flailing towards Mary.
Soon all she could see
was a wall of dust blotting out the scary image of Charlotte hung sideways in the barbwire fence.
The heels of her black boots hit the bottom step leading up to their porch. She stood there with her hands still covering her face, terrified to move them as if she was a child covering her face at bedtime afraid of seeing the lurking demons under her bed or in the mirror. Charlotte’s screams had ended and Mary stood alone in front of the porch with the lonely wind blowing midwest dust all around her. She wondered if she would see demons in that ugly brown dust. And she wondered if Charlotte would be at her bedside tonight, there to help her see that devil in the mirror.
She removed her hands from her face. They were sweaty and trembling. Her chest moved up and down from her slow breaths. Then she saw Charlotte coming straight at her with her arms out reaching towards her as if to wrap her bony hands around her neck and squeeze that goddamn devil right out of her. Her death white hair flowing behind her in a sharp V and her face a terror mask of hell came rushing towards Mary.
Charlotte opened her mouth like an ancient coffin and screamed at her niece.
JESUSCHRISTWILLFUCKTHEDEVILOUTOFYOUMARYANDSENDYOUTOHELL!
Mary screamed out loud. It echoed throughout the dust and the empty farm. She fell backwards and tripped over the step. Her bottom hit hard on the porch and she scrambled away in a backwards crab walk all while envisioning the hallucination of her aunt coming back to life to kill her and send her to hell. She got up quickly and ran inside, tears of fear rolling down her eyes. Her black boots hit the staircase and she ran screaming up the stairs where she entered her room and hid on the floor by her bed. She moaned out a horrified cry as she held her hands over her ears and squinted her eyes shut tight just like she would do at midnight when Charlotte would come creeping up those stairs saying, “You see that devil in the mirror Mary?” She sat hunkered down and not moving for at least fifteen minutes. She’s dead. I know she’s dead. I saw her and she’s not coming back. She’s not. The brown dust outside began to clear away leaving the once white house a sepia tone color. She heard a noise downstairs. Her heart went up her throat. She’s down there. I can hear her. She’s coming.
“Mary!” A voice called out. It was a familiar voice, a male voice. “Mary, are you all right? It’s me Johnathon. Where are you?”
She slowly pulled her hands away from her now matted hair. Her face was sticky with sweat. At the sound of Johnathon’s voice she felt an almost liquefying feeling of her fear melting away from her. She covered her mouth and began to cry.
“Mary!” He called out again and Mary could hear him at the bottom of the staircase. She heard his feet climbing the steps. It’s not Charlotte. Those shoes sound different.
“Mary,” He yelled out at her bedroom door.
He went inside and found her balled up on the floor by her bed. He ran to her and knelt down putting his arms around her making her feel safe.
“Mary, are you ok? I tried to get over here before that dust hit but my pa wouldn’t let me leave.”
He gently caressed her hair as she cried into his chest. He comforted her some more reassuring her that she was safe now. And she did know that she was safe when she saw her reflection in the oval mirror in front of her bed.
There will be no more blood and no more screams, she thought.
And there will be no more crying in this devil land.
Audrey
High above the Armsworth farm, gravestone colored clouds slowly rolled across the sky as if surveying the land below it. It was a hot summer day in 1904 and sixteen year old Audrey Armsworth was in her father’s barn balancing herself atop a wooden beam supported fence. Later that day she would be chopped to pieces in her father’s cornfield because her wandering eyes had seen too much. As she playfully skipped and balanced herself over that wooden beamed fence, she suddenly heard an unusual sound coming from somewhere in the barn. She jumped off the beam and began investigating the foreign sound. To Audrey, it sounded like a woman crying. She crept around the barn following the sound. She was near the back of the barn when she peeked around the corner of a stable and saw her stepmother Cassandra on top of the farmhand. The view of her naked backside bouncing up and down and her red hair swinging from shoulder to shoulder made Audrey’s eyes grow wide and glisten with tears. Among the stink of cow flops and hay, Audrey stood frozen in shock at the sight.
Audrey’s father remarried three years after his first wife Mable died of cancer in 1898. Audrey was only ten years old when her mother passed. She spent a lot of time to herself and felt very alone during the years after her mother’s death. Mostly she would be spend her days in her father’s barn doing acrobatic flips off the wooden beamed fence into a pillow of hay on the ground. She didn’t like the idea of her father beginning to see other women only a year after her mother’s funeral. And she didn’t take to his new wife, even though Cassandra did her best at first to get to know the little child with straight brown hair and big brown eyes. There was something about the woman that Audrey did not like. It was a feeling she got when she was around her. In Audrey’s mind it felt as if a presence of evil was in the room when she was with her. Soon, Cassandra gave up entirely on trying to befriend Audrey and she began to ignore the girl. But then things changed in the Armsworth house as moods and feelings seemed to elevate to a hateful level concerning the females of the house. John Armsworth’s new wife began to hate and despise Audrey and the little girl didn’t know why. When Audrey entered the room she would hold her head down if Cassandra was present or she would try to avoid being seen at all. It was as if the woman was fiercely jealous of the girl and Audrey could feel that hateful vibe. Then in the summer of 1903, Audrey’s father hired a farmhand to help out with tending to the fields and the farm animals. He offered the farmhand free residency in his home in return for his much needed help on the farm. The farmhand kindly accepted and when he did accept John Armsworth’s offer, Cassandra felt a tingle of excitement down below at the decision. They got to work immediately and Cassandra gazed at the young farmhand from her bedroom window, watching him chop wood in the hellish heat of summer with his shirt off. One day as Audrey was alone in the barn doing handstands on the wooden beam fence and her father away in town on an errand, Cassandra offered the once again shirtless farmhand a cold glass of ice tea. He kindly accepted and as Audrey was making her way back to the house she caught a glimpse of the two standing close to each other but not quite touching and they saw her staring at them. The farmhand gave her an angry, wolfish grin and Audrey hurried towards the house with a pain in her stomach because she knew what was happening. She didn’t have the heart to tell her father even though she wanted to. It would break his heart.
As the months dragged on Audrey felt as if she was walking on broken glass every time she saw the farmhand and her stepmother together. The deadly looks they would give her when she passed by gave her nightmares because she knew their secret. And now as she stood in the barn of infidelity, peeking around the corner, seeing an image that was shocking to her yet made her feel sick with guilt because of the quick flare of excitement she felt rush through her body at her stepmothers naked body bouncing quickly up and down, her fears and suspicions had been confirmed. The farmhand cocked his head up and his eyes met Audrey’s. The whoring stepmother stopped bouncing and swung her head around quickly. Her eyes turned red with hate when she saw Audrey. The farmhand grabbed Cassandra by her waist and pulled her off of him.
“Get the little witch!” She screamed with her red hair all tangled in a mess around her face.
Audrey gasped and scurried away in a panic when the farmhand stood up naked and took ahold of an axe lying on the floor. Without thinking she ran towards the cornfield behind their house. Her father had gone into town to run some errands and wouldn’t be back for a while. That’s why she was playing in his barn, trying to pass the time until he got home and could then fix him lunch and they could sit and laugh and enjoy this warm summer day, but instead she was being chased by a wild,
naked brute of a man with an axe and a wolfish, bloody grin on his face. She burst into the tall stalks of green without having any sense of direction of where she was going. She just ran as quickly as she could with her heart racing like mad but then she tripped.
Not too far in the distance she heard, “C’mon girl. I’m gonna find ya no matter what. No wheres to hide now, c’mon ya little sissy snitch. I know yous gonna tell your daddy bout’ what you’ve seen today. Ain’t none your business girl. Now here I come!”
Audrey’s lips trembled violently with fear as warm tears fell down her face. She whimpered a high, girlish cry of terror when she heard the farmhand’s voice getting closer to her in the corn.
Slowly he said, “Gonna get ya little’n. Gonna slice the snitch bitch!”
She put her balled up fist to her mouth trying to smother her cries of fear but he was getting closer, oh so damn close and then just as she summoned the courage to stand up and run again she heard from behind her, “Gotcha!”
She shrieked a quick scream and turned over quickly. At first sight the shape of the farmhand was only a black shadowy outline of a human standing above her, but then her eyes began to focus and she could see the hate and rage rolling off his naked body and that terrifying wolf grin of his.
She knew very well that she couldn’t get away from him. She was trapped between the corn and his big brown boot stepping firmly on her chest, confining her to the floor of the cornfield. Behind the farmhand she could see the sun peeking in between swaying stalks of corn. It was a horrifying sight, the farmhand standing naked above her holding his axe tightly.
“We got ourselves a little problem here don’t we, little girl. Ya see I can’t have you runnin to your Daddy, so I’m here to fix our little problem.”
Audrey cried out but there was no one to hear her. Her mouth frowned downward as she cried softly because she knew she was doomed. He moved the axe to her mouth, slowly moving the blade up against her cheek and then her mouth.