Twisted Endings 3: Children of Blood

  He’s holding a hand up toward me. I see his gold necklace in it. There’s some kind of locket in the center. I’m snatching it and putting it in my pocket.

  “Now finish it,” David says. He’s got one hand on the bucket and the other pointing at the glass jar.

  I know what he’s asking me to do. And he probably considers it an honor to have it done. He doesn’t deserve any honor. But I can’t leave his body like this after he dies. I’m grabbing the bucket and holding it over him.

  “Thank you,” he says.

  I’m pouring all of the soapy water over his body. He was wrong. This isn’t beautiful. Now I’m grabbing the jar from behind the chair. I know he will soon be nothing more than blood and mucus. The contents of this jar will be his legacy.

  I’M DRIVING down a dirt road at 9PM, on my way to find the children who tortured me. My GPS is set for the address I found inside David’s locket. Somehow I know this is where they are.

  There’s a private school on the right hand side of the road that I’ve never noticed. The name on the building says JOSEPH WALKER ELEMENTARY. I pull into the parking lot with a dozen other cars.

  I’m scared out of my mind. I remember the boy who drove the knife into my legs and shoulder. And the children who cheered him on. And the adults who stood in the back in robes and watched. I thought it was all a nightmare. Whatever it was, I’m about to relive it.

  David said the children need help. That they need a leader. Maybe it’s crazy, but maybe I can teach them to be better people. To, you know, not kill people.

  I’m walking through the parking lot to the front office. I don’t know what I expect to happen. Am I supposed to knock on the door this late at night? It sounds foolish but what else can I do?

  I’m banging on the door now. There aren’t any lights on but I know they’re somewhere in this building. Maybe the gym or cafeteria. Damn it, no one is answering. I’m about to get out of here before the cops show up because some lunatic is trying to break into an elementary school.

  The door just unlocked and cracked open. “You shouldn’t be here,” a deep voice says from behind the door. “Leave now.”

  I don’t know what to do. Do I say, “Hey remember me? Good to see you again…” or do I run for my life? I’ve got an idea. I’m holding David’s necklace out in front of the crack in the door.

  The door slammed closed. That’s just great. I don’t know what I was thinking. I’m gonna drive home and pack up. I’ve got enough money to go anywhere in the world. Anyplace would be better than this.

  I hear rattling against the door. There’s a deadbolt or chain being unlocked. The door is fully opening out toward me.

  “Come,” the voice inside the doorway says. It’s dark inside but I can tell from the reflection of light out here that the person inside is one of the robes.

  I’m stepping into the building and following the outline of the robe. His eyes must be adjusted to the dark but I’ve got to follow close behind. We’re walking through several rooms and now into a hallway. Up ahead I see light pouring from the bottom of two large doors. My heart is racing. We’re almost there.

  The robe is opening the doors wide. There are hundreds of kids in front of us on the left in chairs at tables. This is a cafeteria. There’s a stage in front of us on the right. The robe is stepping aside and letting me enter. The doors are closing behind us.

  I’m taking two steps forward and looking up at the stage. There’s a man tied to a chair, just like I was. The boy who mutilated my body is standing over the man with the 12 inch blade I’ll never forget.

  “Power in the blood!” The children are shouting. “Power in the blood!”

  This has to end right now. “Stop!”

  The room is silent and all of the children are staring at me. The robes in the back are walking toward me, but the robe who led me in is holding his arm out at them to stop. They’re obeying him. The boy on the stage is still holding his knife over the man’s leg, ready to shred it to pieces.

  I’m holding out the necklace and locket for all of them to see. The children stopped staring at me. The robes are bowing and getting back into the row behind the children. The boy on stage is still staring at me with hatred.

  “Drop it,” I say. “It’s time for change.”

  The boy is hesitating. Now he’s slapping the paralyzed man on stage on the back of the head, and throwing the knife down.

  I’m jumping up on the stage and facing the kids. “David sent me. The time for killing and torture is over.” They all have blank faces.

  The doors just shot open and a teenage girl is rushing in carrying another girl in her arms. The girl in her arms is covered in blood.

  “Missy’s back,” I hear several children whispering. They sound excited.

  “David, help!” the teenage girl says. She’s lean, with a crew cut and is wearing a jean jacket. She’s rushing to the stage and putting the lifeless body she’s been carrying on the stage.

  The boy next to me on the stage is looking at her but won’t move.

  “David!” She’s looking around. “Somebody help!” Now she’s staring at me. “Who the hell are you?”

  I’m speechless but I’m holding out the necklace.

  “Tell them to help her,” Missy says. “They won’t do anything without your permission.”

  I can tell she’s desperate. I’m glancing at the boy next to me on the stage. “Help her.”

  He’s rushing past me to a bucket in the corner. It’s full of water. He’s pulling a small packet out of his pocket, ripping it open, and pouring red dye into the water.

  “Power in the blood! Power in the blood!” The children are on their feet.

  I’m kneeling next to the girl covered in blood. She can’t be more than 16 years old. Her clothes are torn and her body looks like it’s been mauled by a wild animal. Or a butcher knife. I’m choked up and in tears. This reminds me of the last time I saw Samantha. God I wish the damn soap had been around then.

  “It’s going to be okay,” I whisper to the girl. “I won’t let anything else happen to you.” I see her eyes for the first time. I’ve seen her before but I can’t remember where. “What’s your name?”

  There’s a sparkle in her eye. She recognizes me. She’s swallowing hard and trying to speak. “My name’s Bessie Mae Peterson, and I love my mama and papa.”

  The Amazing Mr. Whiskers

  Jen lay face-up in bed and twirled the vial between her trembling fingers. One drop of the deadly liquid remained. Every time it trickled up and down the tube, she remembered the evil it possessed. She remembered watching as the creatures it created ripped the flesh off her attackers.

  Blackie barked. Someone was at the door.

  She ignored it. Her body was numb.

  “Jen,” her sister Carla shouted, “open up!” Thank God Carla and little Ashley hadn’t witnessed the horror last night.

  Jen took a deep breath and forced herself out of the bed. She was met by Mr. Whiskers, who hissed at her the way he always did. She wanted to kick him, but knew he’d shred her pant legs — just like he did with all her other clothes. He’d been an asshole ever since his balls were cut off. One more paycheck and he’d be declawed, too.

  She put the vial under her pillow and brushed her long black hair back with her fingers.

  Mr. Whiskers raised his rump, swayed his tail, and growled.

  She raced for the door.

  He swiped at her leg.

  Jen closed the door behind her. Her ankle burned and a line of blood trickled down it.

  “Son of a bitch.”

  She hobbled to the front door and opened it.

  “Jen, thank god.” Carla wrapped her arms around her. “Are you okay?”

  “Hi, Aunt Jen,” little Ashley said.

  “I’m fine,” Jen lied. She closed the door.

  “If you’re fine,” Carla said, “then why aren’t you answering your phone?” She took off her coat and hung it on the rack by the door
. “Have you seen the news? It’s crazy!”

  Jen headed for the living room. She switched on the light by the staircase. “I turned my phone off.” She could feel Carla and Ashley close behind her. Blackie was by her side.

  “Hold on a minute,” Carla said. She grabbed Jen by the arm. “What happened after we left last night?”

  Jen huffed. No one would believe her. And even if they did, she couldn’t tell her sister. “I went back into the tent, got my purse, and here I am. Okay?”

  Little Ashley grabbed the TV remote off the coffee table and turned on Sesame Street. “Come watch with me, Aunt Jen.”

  “She’ll be there in a second, Baby,” Carla said. She pulled Jen to the side. “We have to talk, right now.”

  Jen threw her hands up. “Talk.”

  “Two men were killed at the park last night. One of them was the man in the tent you went back to.” She shook her head. “People are saying crazy things on the news. Some type of wild animals ripped those men apart.”

  “I didn’t see any of that,” Jen lied. She didn’t want to tell her sister how the men had tried to rape her. She was grateful Carla and Ashley had already left the park. “I’m okay, I swear.”

  Carla studied her face. “Alright, I’m just glad nothing happened to you. You may be grown, but you’re still my little sister.” She smiled for the first time. “Go give your niece some loving.”

  Jen wished she could tell Carla everything. About the men. About the gypsy who gave her the potion. And about the creatures who had mutated into something unspeakable.

  Carla reached for her side pants pocket and fished her cell phone out. “Great. I’ve got to take this.” She stepped out of the room.

  Jen took a deep breath. That was close. She sat next to Ashley on the couch. “How are you doing, pretty little lady?”

  Ashley’s face lit up. “Last night was fun! Can we go back to the circus tonight?”

  Jen shook her head. “I don’t think so.”

  “Ahhh, man.”

  Carla came back into the room. “Sorry ladies, but I’ve got to leave for about 30 minutes. Duty calls.” She glanced at Jen. “You look like crap. When’s the last time you ate?”

  Jen shrugged.

  “Ashley,” Carla said, “I want you to stay here and take care of Aunt Jen. Go make some sandwiches for her and yourself. Okay?”

  “Okay, Mom.”

  Carla reached into her purse for her keys. “I’ll be back as soon as possible. Don’t get into too much trouble, ladies.” She rushed for the front door and left.

  “Aunt Jen,” Ashley said with big puffy eyes, “can we finish watching Sesame Street first?”

  Jen chuckled. “You bet.” She watched Ashley’s face light up. Her face was beautiful. Boys would be trouble for her one day. Jen’s heart sank. Ashley could never face the same thing Jen had last night.

  Jen grabbed the remote from Ashley’s hand and turned the volume all the way down.

  “Hey! What are you doing?”

  Jen thought carefully about what she was about to say. She didn’t want to scare her niece. “Ashley, I need you to listen to me.” She bit her lower lip. “Don’t ever let anyone or anything hurt you. Do whatever you have to do to survive. Understand?”

  Ashley snatched the remote from Jen. “This is the best part. Shhhhh…”

  Jen sighed and rubbed her forehead. Let her be a kid, she thought.

  Blackie growled and ran out of the room. He stood in front of Jen’s bedroom door and barked.

  “Blackie, hush!”

  He wouldn’t stop.

  “Aunt Jen, I can’t hear the TV,” Ashley whined.

  Jen sighed. She didn’t want to get up. “Blackie,” she yelled, “I’m gonna kill you.” She stood and prepared to whoop his ass.

  BOOM!

  Something slammed against the bedroom door from the inside. Something big. Something heavy.

  Blackie howled and barked in a way Jen had never heard.

  Jen gulped. She thought about the creatures. Had they come here for her?

  BOOM!

  The door shook violently.

  “Ashley!”

  Ashley was by her side. “What is that, Aunt Jen?”

  “You remember what I told you?”

  She nodded. Her lips trembled. “I want my mom.”

  Jen crouched and put her hands on Ashley’s shoulders. “I want you to go out to my car and wait for me.”

  “Nooooo. Please don’t leave me.”

  BOOM!

  The bottom of the door cracked open in the center.

  “Ashley! Run!”

  She latched on to Jen’s leg.

  “Shit.” The front door sat at an angle to the bedroom door. They needed more time.

  Blackie stopped barking. He walked up to the crack in the door and whimpered.

  BOOM!

  The door split in half and a large animal bursted through it. It roared like a lion.

  Jen recognized it.

  “Mr. Whiskers,” she whispered.

  The cat was huge now and looked like a black panther.

  Mr. Whiskers pounced on Blackie and ripped him apart. Blood and bones flew through the room.

  Jen grabbed Ashley by her shirt collar and threw her over her shoulder. She raced up the stairs.

  Mr. Whiskers redirected his attention to them and gave chase.

  Ashley faced the cat and screamed as he got closer.

  Jen reached the upstairs bedroom and closed the door behind them. She pushed the mahogany dresser in front of it, and then collapsed, out of breath.

  BOOM!

  Mr. Whiskers was trying to get in.

  “Leave us alone!” Jen cried. She turned and saw Ashley huddled in a corner, rocking back and forth.

  “What’s happening? I want my mom.”

  Jen knew what was happening. The vial. Mr. Whiskers must have opened it somehow, probably playing with it, and licked the last drop. The same thing that happened at the circus was happening here. It had made the creatures bigger and faster. And hell-bent on revenge.

  Jen looked around the room. There had to be a way out of this.

  “Everything’s going to be okay, pretty little lady. I just have to figure this out.”

  “No it’s not.” Ashley wiped the tears from her face. “I saw that thing. We’re gonna die.”

  Jen had a feeling Ashley was right but couldn’t tell her as much. “We’re McKnight women. We do whatever we have to do to survive. Remember?”

  Ashley whimpered and nodded.

  “Stand up and say it.”

  Ashley steadied herself and stood. She shook her head. “I can’t, Aunt Jen. I want to go home.”

  “Say it!”

  Ashley’s voice was broken. ‘We...do…whatever…we...have…to…do…to…survive.”

  Jen stepped over and hugged her. “That’s right, pretty little lady. I’m with you every step of the way.” Jen looked to the far wall of the room. “Help me open that window. We’re getting out of here.”

  BOOM!

  Jen pushed up on the window when they reached it. She lost her breath. “My dad had this boarded when I was 16.” She shook the metal bars surrounding the outside of the window. Her parents had left her the house when they moved to Florida.

  “We’ll have to figure something else out.” She sat with her back against the wall beneath the window.

  “Who’s that?” Ashley asked.

  “What?”

  Ashley pointed to something outside the window.

  Jen jumped up and followed Ashley’s finger. A man and a woman walked out of the house across the street. They were headed for a car in the driveway. The man was pulling her toward it. They were far away, but maybe, just maybe…

  Jen yelled as load as she could. “Help! We’re up here! Please help!”

  The man and woman kept walking.

  Jen felt like crying. They were too far away.

  Another larger man ran out of the house. He grabbed
the first man’s shoulder from behind.

  That’s when Jen saw it.

  The first man had what looked like a tire iron in his hand. He turned and smashed it against the fat man’s head.

  Jen and Ashley both screamed.

  The first man continued to pull the woman’s arm like nothing had happened. But the woman appeared to be screaming and crying.

  And then an odd thought occurred to Jen. The woman looked like the soap opera actress Debra Chandler from One More Try. But no, that was impossible.

  The couple drove off.

  BOOM!

  She heard the door crack.

  “What are we gonna do now, Aunt Jen?”

  Jen marched to the walk-in closet on the opposite wall and opened it. “Find any kind of weapon you can.”

  The closet was lined with hanging clothes on both sides. The shelves above them were full of open boxes. In the back were cleaning supplies.

  Jen grabbed the boxes off the shelves and emptied them on the floor. “There’s got to be something here.”

  She looked through the last box of what turned out to be junk. Old batteries, candles, letterhead, and bills.

  “What about this?” Ashley held up a box cutter.

  Jen smiled. “That’s perfect!”

  “Mom never let me touch these.”

  Jen grabbed the box cutter from Ashley’s hand and opened it. “This is like a knife.” She handed it back to Ashley. “If that thing comes near you, stab it in the head, over and over again. Understand?”

  “What about you?”

  Jen looked around the closet. “Don’t worry about me. What do McKnight women do?”

  “We do whatever we have to do to survive.”

  BOOM!

  “I’m scared, Aunt Jen.”

  Jen put a hand on Ashley’s shoulder. “It’s okay to be scared. I’ll be right by your side. I’m scared, too.”

  Jen took a deep breath and looked around one last time. Then she realized what the answer was — the vacuum cleaner in the corner.

  “Ashley, help me pull this out.”

  Ashley looked at her with raised eyebrows. “Why?”

  “Because Mr. Whiskers hates vacuum cleaners.” Jen seldom cleaned, but when she vacuumed, Mr. Whiskers always ran for his life. He would run from room to room and hide wherever he could.