Alice's shattered body flew out of the fog at her. The collision almost knocked her out, covering her in Alice's blood. Through the stars obscuring her vision, she could see a dark figure emerging from the fog.
"Answer the question."
"W...what..."
It picked her up by the throat, licking the blood from her face. "What is the answer to the question?"
The hand squeezed with impossible strength. "Give!!"
"I don't know...can't...breathe...please."
"Now you sleep, whore. Rot in the ground."
Liz was effortlessly tossed into an open grave. Fresh dirt rained down on her, being shoveled into her face. "NOOO!!"
"Eternal sleep!!!"
The casket full of spikes slammed shut, crushing her body.
Liz blinked. She was in the cemetery with Rich and Alice. Everything was fine. Part of her wanted to start screaming her brains out, and part of her was ok. It was like what had happened to her was less real. "Rich, I just saw..."
She stopped. He looked at her, confused. "What Liz?"
"Nothing... Nothing at all."
*****
They pulled up to Rich's house. Liz gave him a little hug. "It's weird, I feel like I know you from somewhere. Hope the rest of your day is less weird."
Alice stuck her head out of the window. "We can give you a ride for the rest of the week if you want, since you’re in a new town and all. Just let me know. Feel free to let one of us know if you need anything. Ciao!"
"Thanks for the ride. Later."
"Oh wait, you forgot your quiz." Liz handed it to him. "Richard Spoller. That's a strange name. Is your family from anywhere in particular?"
"America. We are definitely goofy, normal Americans, all the way from America. Can you believe it?" Both of the ladies were giggling as they pulled away from the house. Rich felt pretty good. It had been a decent day overall.
As he entered the kitchen, Aunt Rose was cooking. Matt was asleep in his room, and mom was at the table writing something. "How was your day, sweetie?"
"I owned it on a test, made friends with some cute girls, and chased a cat through a graveyard."
"Well, I guess you had quite the adventure then. Tell me more about these girls." Rich could tell he had piqued her interest because she had stopped writing.
"No way… Not getting into that subject with you today. What are you writing?"
"A letter to your father. The counselors say it's good for his recovery."
"Can we see him?"
"We can go for a visit in sixty days."
"A visit? How long am I going to be stuck in this town!? When are we going home?"
Aunt Rose dropped some peppers onto a skillet. "Hey, this is my town!"
Mom continued writing. "It doesn't work like that, Richard. It's not like he can pass a quiz and be ok. It's going to take time. And there is no home, I won't move back into the house. I don't care if it's free."
"Damn!!" Rich stormed out of the kitchen into his room, and slammed the door.
He plopped down on his bed, his mood ruined. He really didn't feel like doing anything. Finally, he found himself looking at some old family photos. "All I'm doing is freaking out even more." He was right. Maybe tomorrow he'd ask Liz out for coffee or something. "No, then it becomes relationship coffee. Or, she could say ‘no’." Rich turned to his image in the mirror. "Or Alice would want to come, which would ruin the whole point. Maybe I should be asking Alice? But then the whole list of problems is the same in reverse."
"Why don't you just ask Stan while you're at it? You'd have a lot more fun, Richie, if you'd just go with the flow, take a chance."
"I know, right?!" Richard said to his image in the mirror. "I should take a chance once in a while."
"But you do take chances. So, what's this all about?"
Rich pointed at the mirror. "What?"
His mirror self held up his hands. "This? You realize you’re cracking up, right?"
"I am not."
"Look man, you need to go into the kitchen and explain to your mom that you're having two-way conversations with yourself, and get some help. Before you hurt someone… Your dad likes to hurt people."
"He does not! He's sick!!"
"tHeY sHoUlD lOcK yOu uP wItH hIm!!!!"
A huge, clawed figure jumped out of the mirror and pulled him in.
"YAAAAAAAAAAHHH!!!"
Rich jumped off of his bed. He must have dozed off looking at photos.
"Richard? Are you yelling in here?" His mom stuck her head in the door.
"Bad dream. Everything is fine. Sorry about earlier."
"This is a nice room. Don't you like it?"
"The room is fine. The whole house is fine. The town is fine. It's just not my home."
"Home is where you make it. You might be surprised."
She gave him a little hug and then left him to his solitude. "Yeah, I might be surprised. Surprised to death…."
The next month sort of flew by, and things settled into a nice, grey routine of doing almost the same exact thing every day. Go to school. Do good. Be bored for seven hours. Meet up with friends. Go do one of the only four or five activities for teenagers to do in a town this size. Go home. Eat. Sleep. Go back to school. This most adventurous thing he'd managed in Desolation Falls so far had been chasing that stupid cat through the cemetery.
One late afternoon after school let out, Alice plopped herself down right next to Rich. "So...I think you should ask Liz out."
"Um...ok. Why?"
"Because she's been following you around like a puppy since she met you, and you want to but you won't for some reason, and at this point it's just getting pathetic. So ask her."
Liz was talking with Franklin, a football player they had been hanging out with since Stan went nuts and vanished on them. Rich pointed. "Ok then, why don't you ask out Franklin?"
"Oh no... You men folk cause too much trouble. I can't figure you out. I haven't got the time to break in that numbskull right now. Besides, I would like to move away from this place someday."
"Wouldn't we all..."
"Not Liz, she says Desolation Falls is the only place that's real."
"Interesting…"
Alice waved. "Hey, Franklin, come here. I have something to show you."
"He he, now you're talking, babe."
"Oh, grow up jerk."
They walked back to Alice's car. Rich meekly walked up to Liz. He wasn't ready to do this, but perhaps he never would be.
"Umm...hi, Liz. Well...um...what are you...um..."
"Yes."
"Yes what?"
"Yes, I'll go on a date with you. Be at my house tomorrow night at 8 so you can meet my mom. Wear something nice. We're going to dinner and a walk in the park. You'll have me home by 10. No funny business. Understand?"
"Ha! You haven't planned this out or anything, have you?"
"Trust me. This is probably the twenty fifth version of the plan. Just go with it." She gave him a little peck on the cheek. The others were coming back. Alice and Liz gave each other quick thumbs up. Rich rolled his eyes; he had been duped.
"Nice, so you both planned this out?"
Alice laughed. "Hey, I'm just looking out for my friend. Remember, be a gentlemen. No hanky panky in the champagne room, understand?"
Liz gave her a little shove. "Hey! You know me!"
Rich wasn't ready to let it go. "So why did you want to go out with me?"
"What? You asked me."
"Right, with a lot of prompting from Alice. Why was the plan for me to ask you out?"
Liz smiled. "So, you wouldn't have asked me? We forced you?"
"Hey! Don't change the subject."
"Ha ha. You seem nice. I wanted to know more about you."
"There's not much to know. What you see is what you get."
"Nonsense. There has got to be tons to know! Where were you born? What's your favorite food? What's your family like?"
Rich thought about that first questio
n. Where were you born? For some reason, he felt his pulse speed up as he realized he didn't have a clear answer. Rich was pretty happy overall, and tried to let it pass. "So, what should we do to finish up the evening?"
Franklin lit up a flashlight. "The night is young, my friends. I have an idea, why don't we tell ghost stories?"
Alice shrugged. "Fine by me."
Liz looked nervous, so Rich took her hand and sat next to her.
Alice shined the flashlight under her chin. "Three young kids were trying to get home one evening..."
Franklin got a stupid grin on his face. "Always with the young kids and the evening...amateur."
"Shut up. Anyway, they are walking home through this fog and decide to cut through the graveyard."
Richard laughed a little. "This is going to end well."
"Suddenly, they see this light following them, and a dark figure. There had been all these murders in the area, so they tried to move away from it. But the light kept following them, moving faster...faster...FASTER! Soon they were all running, and the dark figure was running after them. They reached the fence at the far end of the graveyard. They were trapped...TRAPPED, I TELL YOU!"
Liz latched on to Rich's shoulder. "What happened to them?"
"As the strange light illuminated the shadowy figure, they could see it was the night watchman. The hunched-over old man calmly walked up to the children. ‘What are you doing out here youngins? Don't you know there's a werewolf on the loose?’ he said. The old man's sharp teeth glistened in the moonlight. Terrified, one of the boys told the others they needed to get home. One of the other boys turned to his friends and said RRRRRRRRROOOOAAAARRRRRR!!!!!"
Liz jumped. Franklin screamed like a little girl. Even Rich jumped a little. Alice exploded into uncontrollable laughter. "Gotcha!"
Franklin had his head in his hands. "Geez, Alice. Sorry I called you an amateur. Please don't tell anyone I yell like that. So...embarrassed..."
When everyone calmed down, Alice handed the flashlight to Franklin. "Beat that, tough guy."
Franklin leaned over and whispered to Rich. "You think Alice would go out with me?"
Rich pointed at him. "HA HA! Really? No, I don't. At all."
Franklin scowled and turned back to the group. I've got one for you, the Wilson House Horror."
Alice shook her head. "No way. This is supposed to be ghost stories, not real-life murder stories."
Rich shrugged. "What's the difference? Most of the stuff they make horror out of now is based on real life. That guy who used to turn people into lamps. That movie where the guy forces people to solve clues or be subjected to devices from the Spanish Inquisition. Horrific viruses that wipe out the planet… All that sick stuff. I enjoyed the werewolf story much better. They don't make anything classic like that anymore.
Franklin didn't care. "Too bad you guys didn't say that before we started. I'm telling it babe, oh yeah!!"
Rich nodded. "What's the Wilson House Horror?"
"You can see the old Wilson House from here; it's that old crap shack off in the fog there. Four years ago, a friend of my sister’s, Sharon, had invited her boyfriend over to watch a movie. Her parents knew about it, but they were at a business dinner two towns over."
"What happened?"
"There were very few signs of a struggle. Not many marks on the body. No signs of forced entry. The cops were pretty sure she let him in, and was taken completely off guard."
"He killed her?"
"With his bare hands. Crushed every bone in her neck. Hasn't moved or said a word in four years. They say he's locked up in Desolation Asylum up on the hill."
"Why did he do it?"
"Some say he went insane. Some say he was possessed by a demon. Some even say...that he escaped the asylum and is still killing out in the darkness. BOOOO!!"
No one even jumped. Everyone started laughing. "Oh, come on guys. That was a good one!"
Liz stretched her back. "It was a good one. But you made that last part up. Oh! Hey Sta..."
In one swift motion, Stan wrapped his hands around her throat, and squeezed with impossible strength. Franklin tried to jump on his back. Stan barely touched his chest, and he went flying twelve feet into a gravestone. The sickening crack of his skull echoed through the graves.
"Men who fear demons see demons everywhere. I have seen my inner demons, and they are me!!"
Liz was crying and struggling, turning blue, trying to pull his hands off her neck. Rich hit him with a rock. He was scared for a moment then hit him in the back of the head really hard. The blow should have killed him. Stan punched him in the chest, and he went airborne.
The last sounds he heard before blacking out were a little squeal, cut off by a sickening crack, and finally, a gunshot. Then, he faded into the calm darkness.
******
The funerals were held back to back. Rich barely remembered them, he was still in shock.
He hobbled into the psych ward at the hospital. Cracked ribs and a stress fracture in his right leg; even after a few months, he was still walking with the cane. As he did every Sunday, he was going to visit Alice.
She had nearly been killed by Stan as well. Turns out, she kept some extra protection in her car. She'd shot him in the head as he was pouncing on her. Now it haunted her. Alice didn't sleep; she didn't eat unless she was forced. She didn't talk much. All she did, day after day, was sit in the psych ward and stare at the wall.
The room was overly clean, and gleamed white. It smelled of old bleach. "Hi, Alice. You feeling any better?"
She turned her head to look at him with her bloodshot eyes. Dark circles now dwelled beneath them. "I didn't even give him a warning Rich."
"Hey, from your perspective, he had just killed three of your best friends in less than two minutes. What more could you have done?"
"I know. But still..."
"Yes?"
"I enjoyed it Rich. I felt good for a while. That makes me an evil person. I just can't believe I did it. I can't believe I messed up this bad."
Rich put his hand on her shoulder. "This wasn't your fault. None of it."
"I can't get it out of my head. I think about it every day."
"I know. It's hard for me too. I couldn't save her." He could feel himself tearing up. The flush of embarrassment and loss flooded through his veins. "We have to let it go. You need to get healthy, move on with your life."
"Well, that's the pot calling the kettle black. How's the leg?"
"It sucks. I'll be ok, though."
"I know..."
"Sweetie, you're not an evil person. You need to pull it together, eat, and get some sleep so I can take you home to your mom and dad. That's it. After a while, they're not going to let you out of here. Or worse, you'll go to the asylum. Then, even your dad won’t be able to pull enough strings to get you out of here. Do you want that?"
"No, you're right. I can't end up there. I'll take care of it. Thanks for helping me, Rich."
"No problem."
Rich left the hospital. He felt empty inside. The deaths of some people he had only known for a few months shouldn't have affected him so much. But he had felt something real for Liz. As he wandered out in the darkness, he found himself in front of the Wilson House. As he looked up at it, he saw someone watching him from above. The figure quickly ducked back into the darkness. "Hey, who's there? What do you want?" The Wilson House had been abandoned for years; no one should have been in there.
Before he knew it, Rich was prying the loose boards off the front door. The door was no longer locked and had been smashed in at some point. Of course, there was no power. Mold had taken hold in a few places, and there were leaks everywhere.
Rich watched his footing as he crept upstairs. It would have been very easy to slip, and he half expected his foot to go right through one of the steps. As soon as he got upstairs, the figure ran from one bedroom into another. Rich's leg and ribs were throbbing, and he had no weapon, but something was driving him. "Come on, come ou
t man! I'm not messing around! I'm giving you until the count of three, and then I'm coming in."
Rich heard something like hissing, and a few thuds, but no response. "One...Two..." And he moved into the bedroom as fast as his busted leg would let him.
"Whoa, man!! Whoa! Just hold up a second."
In the corner of the room stood Stan.
Rich just kept staring. "You...you're dead. You killed Liz and Franklin, and then Alice blew your brains out. Are you a ghost? Am I cracking up now?"
"Rich, listen. I'm not that Stan. I'm the Stan from before."
"Before? What the hell are you talking about?"
"Try to remember. We got attacked by a haunted Ouija Board. You and Liz saw some freaky stuff at the school. Then she disappeared. When you went looking for her, you disappeared, and then no one remembered that either of you existed."
"That was just some crazy dream I had when I moved here. You're a hallucination."
Stan walked across the room and pinched him. "You are not hallucinating. I'm a real guy. And also, you didn't move here. We've always been here."
"I don't understand."
"They're experimenting on us Rich. Everyone in the town, beyond the town...if there is anything beyond this town… They alter people's memories, or give them new ones entirely. They kill people, or capture them for study, and simply clone new people. It's like the matrix or some crap in here, man! They're messing with our minds."
Richard wanted to reject everything he was being told. It was crazy and impossible. And yet, somehow it also made sense. He remembered parts of what Stan was talking about. "How come they didn't mind wipe you?"
"They did. Seems like some of us are resistant to the treatment. We remember parts of what happened, or all of it, even after they mess with us. I managed to give them the slip, and now we have to go."
"Go where?"
"Liz is still alive in there. Of all of us, they seem to be most interested in her. I'm not sure why. We can save her, though."
Rich still couldn't believe what he was hearing was the truth, but part of him deep down knew that it was. If could save Liz...if he could find out what this nightmare was all about and get free of it..."Ok, I'm in. What do we have to do?"
Chapter 4
An Infinite Sorrow Page 4