by Amy Cross
“Mummy!” Hannah's voice yells suddenly from far off in the forest, filled with panic. “Help me!”
“Hannah?”
Pulling the door open, I race out of the cabin and make my way across the clearing. Once I reach the tree-line, I stop for a moment to get my bearings. Sure enough, there's what looks like a wrecked car up ahead, a couple of hundred feet into the forest, and I can hear what sounds like metal and glass getting crunched together.
“Help!” Hannah screams. “Mummy! Daddy's hurt!”
“I'm coming!” I shout, hurrying between the trees. I lose my footing several times, briefly stumbling to the ground, but I quickly get back up and race through the forest until I get to another clearing, where I find that a car has crashed head-on into a large oak tree.
Not just any car, either.
It's David's car.
It's the car from the accident.
“Help!” Hannah cries out. “Mummy! Why aren't you helping us?”
“I'm here!” I yell, rushing around the side of the car. “Hannah, Mummy's here!”
Dropping to my knees next to the mangled passenger-side door, I use my elbow to push broken glass from the window. Just as I'm about to reach into the car, however, I stop as I see that a branch has broken straight through the windshield and has pushed into the front of Hannah's face. Blood is cascading down her jaw and dribbling onto her neck, and her body is twitching as if she's struggling to get free.
“No, please no,” I stammer, with tears streaming down my face as I reach into the car and try to figure out how I can get her out. “My baby, please...”
Looking past her, I see David slumped in his seat. His head must have hit the dashboard, and the force of the impact was so strong that it looks as if his face has been crushed. He's completely still, but in the moonlight I can just about make out a sharp section of bone jutting through a gap on the side of his neck.
Suddenly Hannah lets out a faint, bloodied gurgle. Turning to her, I see that the thick branch has gone straight through her head and is poking out the back. I know I have to do something to save her, but I don't even know where to begin. Finally, I reach down and take hold of her ice-cold, twitching hands as they rest in her blood-soaked lap.
“Mummy's going to make everything better!” I sob. “I swear! I'm going to save you!”
As I say those words, however, her hands fall still in mine.
“Hannah?” I continue, waiting for some sign that she's still alive, even though the only movement now comes from a thick stream of blood that's running from her wound. “Hannah, squeeze my hand! Let me know you can hear me! Hannah, everything's going to be okay! You've just got to hold on!”
“Everything wasn't okay.”
Startled, I turn and see that Hannah is now standing over by the trees, watching me. Her face is undamaged, and she's glowing slightly in the moonlight.
“You didn't save me,” she continues, with a hint of anger in her voice. From the way she's staring at me, it's almost as if she hates me. “It hurt so much, and I died all alone. The agony was unimaginable, Mummy. I had two, maybe three seconds of awareness before everything went dark. You didn't help me. Nobody helped me. Daddy and I died, and there was nothing anyone could do for us.”
“I'll do anything,” I stammer, letting go of the cold hands and stepping away from the car, stumbling toward Hannah. “Tell me what you want. Whatever it is, I'll get it for you.”
“You don't understand, Mummy.”
“Then help me change that! Tell me what you need!”
“You let us die.”
“I was at home!” I sob. “Hannah -”
Suddenly hearing a rustling sound nearby, I turn and see that David is watching from next to another tree. He, like Hannah, is staring at me with dark, hate-filled eyes. They blame me.
“You let us die,” he tells me. “You left us all alone, and we died in agony.”
“I didn't leave you alone,” I stammer, taking a step toward his ghost. “If I could go back and do it all again, I'd never have let you drive that evening. Maybe you were tired, maybe there was something I should have noticed, maybe -”
“You let us die,” Hannah sneers.
Turning to her, I watch as she comes closer, and now she looks as if she truly hates me.
“You killed us, Mummy!”
“No!” I sob, taking a step back. “Hannah, why are you saying that?”
“Because it's true. You let us die, and you carried on with your life. You'd have forgotten us eventually, wouldn't you? You'd have started a new family. You'd have replaced us.”
“No, I swear!” I whimper, dropping to my knees. “Hannah, please...”
Breaking down completely, I put my face in my hands as wild, powerful sobs burst through my body.
“We died,” Hannah continues, standing right in front of me, “and you lived. Do you have any idea how that feels? Do you know how cold it is, to be dead? Do you know what it's like to remember all that pain?”
“Please,” I sob, not daring to look up at her. “Hannah, take me with you. I don't want to live anymore, not without you!”
Finally opening my eyes and seeing her face again, I reach out and put a hand on her arm.
“I'll come with you,” I tell her. “That's all I care about. I just want to be with you again!”
“Okay,” another voice says suddenly. “It's time.”
It's Jason. Jason Hodges, the man from the bookstore. I try to turn, but he quickly grabs me from behind and holds me tight.
“I'm sorry, Beth,” he continues, sliding a needle into the side of my neck and injecting me. “If it's any consolation, the pain's almost over now.”
I try to ask what he means, but my head suddenly feels incredibly heavy. I try getting to my feet, but my legs buckle and I drop back down against the cold forest floor. I can barely see now, but when I look up I can just about make out the silhouettes of Jason, David and Hannah staring down at me. Finally, everything goes black and I feel myself sinking deeper into a void of unconsciousness. The last thing I hear is Jason's voice.
“She's ready. Let's get this over with as quickly as possible.”
Seven
When I open my eyes, everything is different.
I'm back in the cabin, but I'm on a wooden chair and there are thick restraints around my chest and arms, holding me in place. The lights are off, and I can barely see a thing. I try to move, but I quickly find that the chair is bolted to the floor. When I try again, the ropes strain against my chest, and I let out a faint gasp as I find that I'm held fast.
Just as I'm about to start figuring out how to get free, I hear a car door slamming shut in the distance. I look over toward the window. It's still dark outside, but now I can hear muffled voices. It sounds like two men, arguing.
I open my mouth to call for help, but at the last moment I hold back.
Hannah.
David.
Suddenly I remember finding them in the forest. There was a wrecked car, too, and then...
And then Jason showed up, and I don't remember anything after that. I feel pretty groggy, though, and there's a sore patch on the side of my neck. I think he drugged me.
I try again to get free from the chair, but after a moment I realize I can hear the voices more clearly now, and I recognize one of them.
“John!” I shout, straining desperately to pull myself loose. “John, help! I'm in here!”
The voices immediately fall silent.
“John! Help me!”
I wait, and after a moment I hear footsteps trampling toward the cabin's front door. I watch the handle, and sure enough it turns after just a fraction of a second. Finally the door swings open to reveal a figure silhouetted against the moonlit forest. I recognize him immediately.
“John, thank God!” I stammer, with tears in my eyes. “I think Jason did this to me! He put a needle in my neck! I don't know what's going on, but you have to get me out of here before he comes back!”
<
br /> Still pulling at the ropes, I wait for John to come and help me, but for some reason he's just standing in the doorway and watching.
“John!” I hiss. “I need you to help me get out of here! I don't know where Jason's gone, but he might be back any minute!”
“Should I wait outside?” Jason's voice asks suddenly, from beyond the doorway.
“Please,” John replies calmly, before stepping into the cabin and carefully pushing the door shut. He reaches across and switches on the light, and finally I'm able to see his face.
He looks so calm, almost as if he expected to find me like this.
“It's over,” he says finally, sounding a little shocked by his own words. “After all this time. I was staring to think I'd never shake that bout of writer's block, but now...”
His voice trails off, and for a moment he simply stares at me.
“Now I see the way forward,” he continues with a sigh. “I think this next book is almost going to write itself. Thank you, Beth. It was all worth it in the end. You've been so very useful to me.”
“What do you mean?” I ask, trying not to panic. “John, someone tied me up. I was out in the forest, I saw Hannah and David, and then Jason came up behind me with some kind of needle. He knocked me out, and then I woke up here!”
Without answering, John heads over to the table in the corner. He takes a glass bottle of water from next to his typewriter and brings it to me.
“You should drink,” he tells me. “The sedative has probably made you very thirsty.”
“What are you talking about?” I ask, looking up at him and seeing a hint of pity in his eyes. “John, look at me! I need you to get me out of here!”
“Drink.”
“John!”
“Drink.” He holds the bottle closer to my lips, but I don't take a sip. Finally he seems to get the message, and he takes the bottle away.
“John, what is this all about?” I ask. “I don't understand. I have to get out of here!”
“We'll be taking you away soon enough.”
“Taking me away?”
“You made things very complicated toward the end,” he continues. “I hadn't anticipated that annoying friend of yours, Jacqui, returning from Australia. And then she insisted on bringing a psychic to your house. I've got to admit, I had a moment of panic, but in retrospect I think maybe that's exactly what I needed. As soon as she announced her plan to hire the psychic, I knew the end was coming. It was good for me to get shaken out of my funk. I was forced to look at things differently, to come up with new solutions, and that's when the writer's block lifted. I know it would eventually.”
“Writer's block? What...”
My voice trails off.
“What have you been doing to me?” I ask finally, trembling with shock. “John, what is all this about?”
“I tried to get Jacqui out of the way much earlier,” he replies. “I arranged for her to get a job in Australia, I even arranged for her to meet a man out there. I thought she wouldn't ever come back, but some people just refuse to see what's best for them. From the moment she came back into your life, Beth, I'm afraid I knew I'd have to get rid of her more permanently. In the circumstances, a sedative followed by smoke inhalation was probably a more peaceful death than she deserved. After all, she'd proven herself to be quite an irritant.”
“What the hell are you talking about?” I ask, refusing to believe that he's serious. “Jacqui got that job because she was headhunted by an Australian company.”
“Do you seriously believe that?”
“She told me!”
“I'm a writer, Beth,” he continues. “That's what I do. I tell stories. I take characters and I shape them, I give them paths to follow. The money from Hollywood, from all those film adaptations of my work, simply allows me to work on a much broader canvas. My work is no longer restricted to the page. I own that company in Australia. Jacqui was an idiot. You don't seriously think someone like her would be headhunted by an international organization, do you? Come on, get a grip. That'd be the least believable plot development in any story ever.”
“But she...”
I hesitate for a moment, thinking back to the night last year when Jacqui told me her news. Out of the blue, an Australian media company had offered her the job of a lifetime. We both agreed at the time that it was a little unusual, but we figured that she'd just struck lucky.
“You wrote her life?” I stammer finally. “You wrote it like she was a character in one of your books?”
“A side character, yes. By no means the protagonist.”
“That's not possible,” I tell him. “You're lying. There's no way anyone could do that! It's completely insane!”
“Is it?”
“Of course! I don't believe you for one second! There's no -”
Before I can finish, I hear a knock at the door.
“Who's that?” I ask, struggling once again to pull free of the restraints. “Is it Jason?”
John stares at me for a moment, before turning and heading over to the door. His steps are heavy, as if he's reluctant, and then he hesitates again, as if he's not quite sure whether or not to pull the door open.
“This is actually harder than I'd expected,” he mutters finally. “I'm surprised by just how fond I've grown of you, Beth. Over the years...”
“Fond of me?” I ask, still trying not to panic. “We're friends!”
“Like I said,” he continues, “I had a bad case of writer's block, so I decided to try something new. This was years ago, of course. It was all going so well at first, but I couldn't figure out how to finish your story. When I started involving myself in your life several years ago, I assumed that I'd come up with some kind of resolution eventually. As far as I'm aware, no writer has ever attempted such a grand and ambitious project. I even wondered whether I had the right to interfere in your life, but eventually I told myself that these doubts were foolish. Of course I had the right. I'm a great man, I needed help, so I figured out what to do. It's only right that I should take advantage of the opportunities that are presented to me. And your life was going nowhere. You were lost, aimless and alone before I intervened.”
“What are you talking about?” I ask.
He hesitates again, before opening the door to reveal Hannah and David standing outside. David is watching me with calm indifference, while Hannah is smiling slightly.
“Beth,” John continues, “I'd like you to meet Mr. Benjamin Richards and Ms. Alice Lucas. They are the very fine actors I hired a number of years ago to play the roles of your husband and daughter.”
“Hannah!” I shout, straining harder than ever to get up from the chair. “Run! Hannah, this man is insane! Go and get help! Go and -”
Catching myself just in time, I realize that something about her face seems different now. That smile isn't quite the smile of my Hannah, and she's holding herself a little more awkwardly. David looks relaxed, too, and he's watching me not with love or compassion, but with cold, hard pity.
“Tonight was their last night,” John continues. “They played their roles so well, especially Alice. It's very impressive for a child to perform so well.”
“Hannah, don't listen to him!” I yell. “Hannah, run!”
“My name's not really Hannah,” she replies with a grin. “I'm Alice!”
“Hannah, please,” I continue, with tears streaming down my face. “I don't know what he's told you, I don't know what's happening, but you have to get out of here! Mummy knows that you -”
“You're not my mummy,” she says, still smiling. “Not anymore. My new mummy is waiting for me in a car.”
“Benjamin and Alice have been amply rewarded,” John explains, reaching down and tousling the hair on top of Hannah's head. “Especially when they had to film special effects sequences to be projected into your home, Beth. Or when they had to wear elaborate make-up. There were some hairy moments when I worried you might guess what was happening, but one of my great skills as a wri
ter has always been improvisation. I believe I'm a pantser, in modern terminology, although I also like to plot ahead when I can. When I'm not blocked. But now it's time for Benjamin and Alice to leave the stage, because we've reached the final act of this ghost story and they're no longer needed.”
“So the final payment will have cleared by now, right?” David asks.
“No need to worry,” John tells him, as he leads them back through the doorway. “You'll be very well rewarded.”
“No!” I scream, trying desperately to go after them. The chair shifts slightly, as if I'm finally managing to rip the bolts from the floor, but I can't quite manage to break free. “Hannah! Come back! Hannah, it's me, it's Mummy! Hannah!”
The door swings shut, and for a moment I'm left all alone in the cabin. After a few seconds, however, I hear a car driving away, and then John steps back inside.
“Bring her back to me!” I sob. “Bring my little girl back!”
“She's not your little girl,” he replies calmly. “Not anymore. You might have been her biological mother, but David – or rather, Benjamin – and I trained her from an early age, along with a pair of clinical experts I hired. She has no emotional attachment to you whatsoever, and now David will look after her. It's amazing what you can train a child to do, Beth, if you start early enough. I suppose that to her, it was all a big game.” He pauses for a moment. “Now, Beth, it's just you and I for the final moments.”
Behind him, the door opens and Jason steps into view, carrying a hold-all.
“Although I shall need a little assistance from a man of medicine,” John adds.
“Are you going to kill me?” I stammer, feeling a rush of anger rising through my chest. “Is that it?”
“I outgrew the constraints of the conventional novel long ago,” John explains, as Jason sets his hold-all down and starts taking out various items of medical equipment. “I needed to write a story in the real world, with real people, and fortunately I had both the time and the resources to do so. I turned your life, Beth, into a living horror story. I invested a great deal in the construction of a family for you. Benjamin was a wonderful actor, right from the moment I hired him to enter your life and woo you. This has been going on for almost a decade now. I had to lay the groundwork, and now I get to enjoy the grand finale. I turned your life into a ghost story, I got to see how you reacted, but for the longest time I was blocked. I didn't know how to end your story. I thought you'd have to die, but now I have a much better idea.”