Into the Void

by Amanda Frame

  I forced those thoughts to crawl back into the recesses of my brain, and focus on the task at hand. Getting back home without wanting to kill myself.

  For the entire journey back, I felt like I was being watched. I kept looking over my shoulder. The feeling didn’t go away the whole ride home. By the time I trudged into my surplus store, I was exhausted, miserable, and paranoid.

  Even though I was about to pass out after I brought everything inside, I examined the crossbow again. I was too excited about it to be able to go to sleep without checking it out more thoroughly. It looked very straightforward. After about ten minutes of fiddling with it, I was pretty sure I knew how to shoot it. I’d have to make some kind of practice target in the morning. Right now, I needed sleep.

  CHAPTER 42

  ANNA

  “No, no. Left up here.”

  Becca flipped her turn signal, frustrated. We couldn’t find the parking for Saint Mary’s hospital.

  “There!” I pointed, seeing an entrance to a garage with a sign that read “visitor parking”. We found an empty spot on the fourth level near the elevator. I got out of the car, heart racing. I glanced at Becca. Her mouth was set in a hard line, eyebrows drawn together. We got in the elevator and pressed the lobby button, still in silence.

  “Bec…” I said turning towards her.

  “For the hundredth time, I am going with you,” she interrupted, giving me a small smile. I sighed as the elevator doors opened.

  We were directed to the third floor by a woman at the help desk. After wandering the hallways for a while, we found a set of double doors with an inconspicuous sign that said “psychiatric”. There was a keypad with a call button over it. Obviously only authorized personnel could get in. I pressed the call button.

  “How can I help you?” an impatient voice responded through the speaker.

  “Uh, we’re here to visit a patient?” I said hesitantly.

  “Name of patient?”

  “Jackie Figueroa.”

  After a moment the door beeped and swung open. We approached the nurse’s desk, where we had to fill out some paperwork and have our IDs scanned, and were given a list of items that we could not take in with us. I took off my belt with shaking fingers and put it in a bin, along with a pen that Becca had in her pocket, and both our purses. This was feeling more surreal by the moment.

  We were escorted to room 416 by a very large man who motioned us towards the door.

  “We…we just go in?” Becca asked nervously.

  “Yep. She’s approved to have unsupervised visitors for fifteen minutes at a time. I’ll be waiting outside the door.”

  My heart raced. Becca took my hand and I squeezed back. The orderly looked impatient. I turned the knob, taking a deep breath. We stepped inside and he shut the door behind us, still able to see in through a little window near the top.

  The walls were bare but for a small shelf over a comfortable-looking twin sized bed. A few well-worn teddy bears and a picture of an older couple rested there, watching us. A cheery quilt on the bed tried to disguise the fact that the owner was here against her will.

  The bright colors and stuffed animals couldn’t hide the heaviness in the room. Foreboding seeped from the walls, knotting my insides and prickling my skin. Glancing over at Becca, I could see nervousness painted on her face, and knew she felt it too.

  I expected a vibe like this to come from a room plastered with images of insanity scrawled on the walls in black marker, not a space that appeared so harmless.

  Where was Jackie? There was another door inside the room, presumably an attached bathroom. Just as I realized this, I heard a click and saw the knob turn. I felt Becca jump.

  A woman exited, long brown hair a tangled mess. She looked to be in her early thirties, her young faced permanently etched with the wrinkles of fear and desperation, a tattered T-shirt and sweatpants hanging off her.

  What stood out most of all was the black form that overlapped her frail body, fading in and out. One moment I could see her clearly, the next she was blurred behind the shadow of a creature not belonging in this world.

  “What do you want?” she said. I froze, heart racing, speechless. Her voice was possessed; underneath her quiet voice was a deeper one, tainted with anger and lacking humanity.

  “Um… hi Jackie. I’m Becca, and this is Anna,” Becca said, hesitant. She couldn’t see it.

  “What do you want?” she/it asked again. Her words were hard to make out, drowned out by a low hiss that faded as her image became clearer, the transparent form of the being within her waning until it was just barely visible.

  Her eyes cleared slightly and she looked at me, puzzled. I met her gaze, still in shock, words caught in my throat. She shook her head quickly, as though trying to focus.

  “Okay. Do I know you?” the human voice dominated, the deep rasp behind it just a whisper.

  She watched us expectantly, and I recognized the expression in her eyes. It was the same I had seen in Brian’s, an emptiness tinged with insanity.

  “Well, no but…” Becca started the speech we had prepared, but I interrupted.

  “How…how…” I didn’t even know what question to ask. “…did it…” I trailed off. Our gazes locked, and after a moment, she realized I knew.

  Jackie’s eyes went wide, desperation breaking through. “It followed me,” she whispered quickly, panting. She looked around wildly, as though paranoid someone was listening. “Get it out get it out get it out!” She screamed the last words at us, and we both bolted for the door, Becca squeezing my hand so hard I thought it was going to crack.

  Jackie’s words were drowned out by a low gravelly growl. Right before we rushed out of the room, I caught one last glimpse, Jackie’s green eyes almost solid black, her form barely visible behind the creature, an inhuman smile stretching her shadowed lips.

  I slammed the door, terrified, and Becca let out a sharp sob, backing toward the far wall, eyes still on the door as if Jackie would break through.

  “What…what the hell was that?” she said after a moment, taking deep, shaky breaths. I just shook my head, wiping sweat from my forehead.

  “She didn’t tell us anything! That was pointless!” she continued, voice still trembling.

  “No,” I said with a mix of confidence and terror, “no, it wasn’t.”

  CHAPTER 43

  JOHN

  I jolted awake. It was still dark. Something had woken me but I wasn’t sure what. I grabbed my knife and the flashlight that were always next to me when I slept. I waited and listened.

  Crrrack!

  “What in the hell?” I whispered.

  Wide awake, I crept out of the storeroom and toward the front door. The glass was covered with plywood so that nothing could see in, but I’d sawed a little slit in the wood to see out when necessary. Putting my eyes against the slit, I peered through.

  Snap! Snap!

  It took me a few seconds to process what I was seeing. There was a giant centipede snapping my stakes in half like toothpicks. It roared and continued destroying my pathetic fortifications.

  I suddenly had the sinking feeling that I had killed its baby.

  Shit shit shit!

  I raced back to the storeroom, stumbling several times in my panic. Thankfully there was a plan, though not a great or foolproof one, for this situation. I unfolded one of my ladders and set it in the center of the floor, right underneath the grate on the ceiling that led into the attic. Grabbing my backpack, I threw the flashlight, knife, and binoculars I had found a couple weeks ago into it. The lighter went into my pocket.

  I grabbed one of the torches I had fashioned and zipped it into the backpack, its end sticking out the top. The layers of cardboard that I had wound tightly around the top of pole would burn as well as kerosene, albeit for a shorter period of time. Thank you, Boy Scouts.

  I hauled ass up the ladder and kicked it over once I managed to pull myself through the hatch. Holes in the roof let me see out of the attic i
n various places, but I had to be careful to not be seen through them. Clicking on my flashlight for just a second, I checked the largest hole in the back, right over the parking lot. I could see the top of the second ladder through it. My only other escape route.

  I switched off the flashlight. I had this place memorized so didn’t need to see very much. I looked through the peephole overlooking the entrance so I could see the Leech, barely lit by the rising sun. It was not happy. It approached the door and leaned its massive head down to ram into the glass. I heard it shatter, then lost sight of the creature. It must be inside.

  I listened carefully, heart pounding, breathing ragged. Quietly pulling the knife out of my backpack, I heard the creature knocking down shelves, my precious scavenged items clattering on the floor. Then silence. I held my breath, afraid of making the slightest noise. It was below me. Waiting.

  Wood splintered up ten feet away from me. I clenched my teeth to trap the scream in my throat. Again, five feet away. It was ramming the ceiling. It knew I was up here.

  Once more, a few feet to the left, but this time a giant pincer stabbed through and snapped around, searching for flesh. I couldn’t help yelping when another deadly spike rammed through not two feet from me. The insect froze. It had heard me.

  I screamed as the wood split under me and a searing pain tore through my leg. My blood poured over the pincer still stuck into my thigh. I hacked at it with my knife. The thing hissed below me but didn’t seem too affected by my feeble attack. I screamed again as it yanked, trying to rip me through the ceiling by my skewered leg.

  It didn’t compensate for the pliability of my weak human body and pulled too hard, ripping the pincer out, freeing me with a white-hot pain. I fell backward, my vision going hazy when I looked down and saw exposed muscle. Adrenaline kept me from passing out.

  I scooted backward to avoid the crumbling ceiling, trying to make my way to the ladder to the parking lot, the only hope of salvation. My leg was nearly useless, my attempts to walk, hopeless. I remembered the torch and reached over my shoulder to pull it out, using it as a crutch. Leaving a trail of blood in my wake, I desperately hobbled to the hole in roof. Using just my arm strength and left leg, I pulled myself over the ladder, throwing the torch into the parking lot below me.

  I glanced back. The Leech was decimating the ceiling, its hissing screams accompanying each blow. I took a moment to mourn the only home I had ever known here, assuming it wouldn’t be livable after this, but also realizing I probably wouldn’t be alive to go back to it anyway.

  I hopped down the ladder. Each time my good foot landed, pain seared up the other leg and I gritted my teeth, trying not to look at the blood that pumped out with each step, illuminated by the muted sickly light of the rising sun.

  Picking up my makeshift crutch, I made a beeline for the bookstore next door. I had boarded it up, a heavy bookshelf waiting to blockade the front door. This part of my escape plan seemed moot at this point, considering it was doubtful I would have the strength to tip the shelf over. I headed there anyway, since I didn’t have time to come up with an alternate plan. As of now the monster hadn’t noticed I was gone, so maybe hiding would be enough to save my life.

  The trench ended where the parking lot began, and I spared a moment to stop there and light my torch, beyond grateful that the lighter was still in my pocket. I banged the lit end of the torch on the edge of the trench, dislodging most of the flaming cardboard onto the kindling of stripped bark below. The lack of rain here was a blessing; the wood was dry as a bone and caught quickly.

  The original plan was to just throw the torch into the ditch, but I needed it as a crutch. I did my best to put out the flame, grinding the end into the ground. It was still smoldering, but I couldn’t waste any more time. Keeping the smoking end on the ground, I used the pole to hobble as quickly as possible, finally making my way through the entrance of the bookstore.

  I tripped over the threshold, accidentally flinging my torch to the side. I crawled, dragging my leg behind me. I reached the bookshelf placed strategically next to the door, and hoisted myself up. I glanced outside in time to see that the Leech was exiting my store through the giant hole where it had busted through the front door.

  With a sinking feeling, I saw that the giant fire caused by the flaming kindling hadn’t jumped the sidewalk to the other side of the trench. How did I not think of that? All this planning and I missed that one huge, possibly life-ending detail. At least the fire was causing a distraction; the Leech was hesitating and hadn’t spotted me yet.

  I tried to push the bookshelf, grunting with effort, but it was no use. I couldn’t get enough leverage with just one foot on the floor. This was the end for me, I could feel it.

  Powerful heat on my back cut through my resignation, and I turned around. My torch was resting on pile of books I had knocked off the shelf, and its smoldering end had caused it to catch flame.

  I panicked. There were two choices. Stay in this building and most likely burn to death, or leave and probably get killed by a giant insect. There was a back entrance to the bookstore, but I didn’t know if I could get there in time by just crawling. I paused, looking outside one final time. The Leech had spotted me. I couldn’t just go back outside and let it slaughter me. So I started crawling.

  The bookstore was catching fire rapidly. There weren’t many books on the cases, but most of them were on the highest shelves, creating a giant match, waiting patiently for the ceiling to go up in flames.

  I regretted my decision. The monster would probably catch me anyway, and if it didn’t, I was pretty positive burning alive would be worse. I crawled behind a large bookcase just as the Leech entered. I lay on my belly and peered around the corner to watch my demise unfold.

  It made it several yards inside before it realized it was surrounded by fire, its hissing screeches growing frenzied. The front wall of the building began to crumble, blocking its path back outside.

  I took advantage of its panic and army-crawled toward the back of the store, arms burning with the effort of dragging my useless leg, blood leaving a smeared trail behind me. I could feel the heat intensifying, growing almost unbearable. Terror fueled me, dulling the pain. Just fifteen more feet to the open door leading to the alleyway.

  A burning book fell in front of me and I cried out as embers scorched my face. I pushed it aside with my hand, hearing my skin sizzle, but I continued. I had no choice. Agony tore through me each time I placed my hand on the floor to drag myself another foot, the friction of my raw, blistered skin against the cracked linoleum like nothing I had ever felt, worse even than the creature slicing open my leg. Something heavy and flaming dropped onto my shoulder and I screamed. The ceiling was collapsing.

  I didn’t look back; there was no point. I was dead whether the monster was pursuing me or not. Its frantic, inhuman screams bounced on my eardrums, percussion to the chorus of crackling fire. With one last burst of strength, I pushed myself through the door, the force of which caused me to tumble down a small ramp and come to rest on my back on the pavement.

  Tasting blood and smelling my own burnt flesh, I blessedly lost consciousness. Hopefully I would die before I woke and this nightmare would be over.

  CHAPTER 44

  ANNA

  It was a tense drive back from South Carolina. I didn’t explain what I had seen to Becca and she was too shaken to ask me anything.

  “What’s going on?” Becca said, parking on the curb about a block away from my house. An ambulance blocked my driveway.

  I shook my head, a terrible dread settling in the in the pit of my stomach.

  “I…I gotta go, I’ll call you.” I rushed out of the car and slammed the door, not even waiting for a response. The ambulance pulled away just as I reached the sidewalk. I sprinted up my front steps, throwing the door open.

  “Mom! Dad!”

  “In here, sweetie!” I heard my mom’s voice call from the living room. Both my parents’ faces were lined with worry.
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br />   “You’re back early,” my dad said.

  “What happened?” I asked, relieved that they were okay, but the dread was still there.

  “We found Mr. Marshall lying on his front lawn so we called 911. The paramedics think he had a stroke. I’m so sorry, honey, I know how much you care about him.” My mom stood up and put a hand on my shoulder. I felt the blood drain from my face.

  “He seems to be in okay condition as of now, we—” my dad started.

  “You couldn’t have led with that! Jesus, Mom!” I threw my hands up and glared at her.

  “Oh, sweetie! I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to scare—”

  “Whatever,” I interrupted, impatient for answers. “Is he gonna be okay?”

  “We saw him get wheeled out a few minutes before you got here and he looked alert, so that’s good,” my dad said, trying to sound optimistic. I flopped on the couch, putting my head in my hands.

  “Can I go visit him?” I asked, looking up. “I mean, there’s no reason I can’t, right?”

  “I suppose, but he has to be admitted and stabilized first,” my mom answered. “You should at least wait until morning. You’d probably just have to hang out in the waiting room for hours anyway.”

  “Okay, I’ll do that then,” I grabbed the backpack I had thrown on the floor and hefted it onto my shoulder.

  “You’ll do what? Sit in the waiting room for hours?” my dad asked, confused.

  “Yeah. Can I borrow your car, Mom?” I scanned the end table, looking for her keys.

  “Anna,” my dad said. I ignored him. “Anna, come on. Get some sleep. At least a few hours. He won’t benefit from an exhausted visitor.” He hugged me, but I pushed him away, tears in my eyes.

  “Fine!” I stomped up the stairs. I was being irrational, but I couldn’t do this alone. I needed John. I knew the thought was selfish; obviously I wanted him to be okay. He was my friend, my mentor.