The Devil's Grip: The Curse of Stone Falls

by Steven Swaks

  “Did you heal the cat?” Ben asked.

  “I couldn’t tell, the poor little thing ran out of the house and got smashed by a dump truck.”

  “That’s reassuring,” Ben said.

  Alex leaned toward him, “We are doomed.”

  “This is great. Jennifer has to meet this guy. She’s going to feel a lot better.”

  “She’s probably watching as we speak.”

  Alex looked at the empty-handed character before him. “Don’t you have a Bible with you?”

  “Oh, yeah, sure, it’s in my cell phone.” Michael lifted up his black robe, revealing old tennis shoes and blue jeans. He pulled out a smart phone.

  “Gina’s gonna go on a field trip…” Ben said quietly.

  The young man tapped his back pockets. “Damn! I forgot my cross in the car. Hey, that’s all good, I’ll get it later.”

  “Michael, you seem to be a nice guy, but you’re not what we were expecting. We don’t want to waste your time any more than we already have,” Alex said with a caring hand on the young man’s shoulder. “And it’s late–”

  “Oh, come on bro, gimme a chance.”

  “Look, we don’t really know what we’re dealing with here. We don’t want to mess with… whatever is already happening. We could make it worse than it is.”

  “Dude, I’ve seen nothing yet.”

  “I hope not. You’ve only been here for five minutes,” Alex said.

  “Oh, come on. You two are two bad paramedic dudes, and you’re afraid of some dead chick. That’s what you told me on the phone.”

  “Yes, but it’s a little more complicated than that,” Alex said.

  “You guys need to chill. She’s dead, bye bye. She’s not gonna come here with an ice cream cone and say hello. She’s a spirit. That’s if she’s even here. She can’t even touch you–”

  “Mike, watch what you say. It’s not that simple,” Ben said.

  “So what? She’s all pissed off, ‘cause you two got on her bad side, big deal. She’s rotting down the street in a cemetery. The worms are chewing on her eyeballs like she’s an all-you-can-eat buffet,” he said pretending to chew something, “that’s–”

  All the lights turned off.

  “What the hell?” Michael said.

  Alex and Ben stayed silent.

  “You guys messing with me? That’s not cool.” He palpated around to feel something familiar, a door perhaps. There was nothing but the rough wall. He went on looking for a light switch. “You guys suck… I come here to help you out and you’re messing with me…” his voice cracked in the darkness, “now you really think that I’m going to buy that? Some gal is gonna touch me and pretend to be the dead chick, come on.”

  “Michael, for the love of God, stop talking.” Alex’s heart pounded. His breaths stayed shallow to hear any movement in the dark.

  “Fine, you guys got me, I’m scared. Nah. Happy now?”

  “Mike, shut it!” Ben lashed.

  “Jeez, you need to cool off. I got it, you want me to close my trap ‘cause you’re scared. Why don’t you just say so, I’m–”

  “No, you’re not getting it. If you say another word, I’m going to break your teeth,” Ben said.

  “All right, all right, I got it, but can you guys turn on the–” His voice died in a stifling sound.

  “Ben? What are you doing?” Alex asked.

  “Where is he?” Ben asked, trying to find something familiar in the dark.

  Something smashed against the wall.

  “Michael?” Ben’s whispering voice was the only sound in the pitch black corridor. “Mike? Hey, buddy, where are you?”

  No answer.

  Rubber quickly tapped on the wall a few feet away from them.

  “What’s that?” Alex asked at the edge of panic.

  “I don’t know. Mike? Damn it, where’re you?” Ben asked again.

  A weight thumped close to them, a gasp for air, and labored breathing.

  “Mike? Where’re you?” Ben asked again, anguish distorting his words.

  The lights came back on. The young man was in the middle of the corridor, lying in fetal position. He rolled on his back with a grunt.

  “Are you all right, buddy?” Ben asked.

  The two paramedics strode to him and kneeled.

  The young Michael looked at them with demented eyes. “What are you doing in here? Why did you bring me here? Both of you, why? What did I do to you?”

  “What happened? Did she touch you?” Alex asked.

  “Did she touch me?” He scouted away from them on the floor. “Did she touch me?” He looked around him. “She grabbed me by the throat and nailed me on the wall. She picked me up like I was nothing.”

  “Did you try to fight her off?” Ben asked.

  “Of course I did! What’re you thinking? I tried to hit her, but she wouldn’t let go! That’s all my fault! That stuff is all my fault!” His eyes bounced back and forth between the two paramedics.

  “What are you talking about, Mike?” Alex asked.

  “I never took it seriously, the school, the Bible, all of it. God is punishing me. I know it. God is so pissed at me right now! He’s sending that psycho to punish me! I know it! Man, I was wrong. I got to get out of here! I got to go! Let me go!” He stood up and staggered to the door, not without turning around a last time. He erected his arm directly at Alex. “You… you never talk to me again! Never! If you see me in the street, you pretend you don’t know me!” Michael turned around and disappeared into the warehouse.

  “That went well, a little shorter than expected, but it went well,” Ben said.

  “Let’s check on Jennifer.”

  The two walked into dispatch.

  “Did you see what happened on the monitor?” Alex asked.

  “I didn’t miss any of it as long as the lights were on.”

  “And when the lights were off?” Alex asked.

  “Nothing, it was pitch black. The cameras inside are not night vision. They don’t catch anything when the lights are off.”

  “What do we do now?” Ben asked sitting on an office chair.

  “I have no idea,” Alex answered. “I’m afraid Gina can do anything she wants.”

  Black Tape

  Detective Delano loved the mornings. The police station was crowded with officers and employees, but everyone stayed quiet, tired from a long night of duty or hardly out of their sleep. The coffee scent roamed the offices like an aphrodisiac telling everybody the work day had officially started. Over time, the officers woke up, the voices rose, and the jokes bounced like metal balls in a pinball machine. At least, that was the way it used to be, but not so much anymore with the numerous deaths plaguing the small city. That was without even thinking about the unusual activities.

  Delano didn’t even want to get into the hearsays about paranormal sightings. It was ridiculous, mass hysteria level. That’s all.

  The detective looked at himself in the bathroom mirror. He was alone, the perfect setting for an apparition. How many of his men had seen Gina Hawkins in this very mirror, he wondered. He closed his eyes and splashed some warm water onto his face.

  Now, he thought. He opened his eyes and looked in the mirror. Nothing. Mass hysteria, his men were going mad.

  The detective dried his face, crumpled the sheet of paper, and threw it in a basket. He walked out of the bathroom and retreated into his office. He sunk into his chair which by now had taken the shape of his bottom. A small statue of a crouching Native American holding a spear was the only personal touch to his office. The rest? Nothing of real interest, a Bachelor Degree in Criminology diploma hanging on the wall in a cheap frame, a metal credenza overstocked with folders, and a shelf with a few books and police memorabilia.

  Officer Gonzales knocked on Delano’s opened door.

  “What can I do for you, Gonzales?” Delano said after letting him in.

  “I’ve finished reviewing the tapes in the theater.”

  “And?”<
br />
  “Simons stayed in the theater during the entire movie.”

  Delano hit the edge of his desk in frustration, “It would have been too good to be true.” He stayed quiet to collect his thoughts. “Are you sure? Did you check all the exits? The corridor?”

  “I’m positive. He stayed in the theater the entire time and walked out by 10:04 PM. There’s no way he could have been directly involved with the murder. What about those kids you talked about yesterday?”

  “That so called Leader? His name is Clarence Whitney. I don’t see it. He’s a little punk, but he won’t do anything more than slap around the school nerds.”

  “What now?”

  “We didn’t get anything back from the lab. Hopefully they can give us some DNA or something relevant.”

  “Prints?”

  “They didn’t pick up anything.” The older style phone rang on the desk. “This is Delano… huh… of course, please come in.” Delano hung up and consulted his watch. “8:45 in the morning, and it’s already been a long day.”

  “What’s going on?” The officer asked.

  “The girl’s dad is here with Chief Burns. This’s going to be fun.”

  “I have to go on patrol.”

  “Yeah, you better get out of here. Things are going to get interesting in a hurry.”

  “Good luck, boss.”

  “I’ll need it.”

  The young officer walked out as Chief Burns and Jessica’s father entered.

  The two could have been brothers. They’d both played football in the same high school and had hung out with the same crowd for years. Life had put some distance between them, but they’d remained close friends.

  Chief Burns introduced Delano to Gregory Miller. The man shook his hand with a strong grip and sat on his seat.

  He was a carbon copy of Chief Burns, heavy set but not fat, with a receding hairline. His moustache was slightly finer than the Chief’s. Other than that minute difference, they looked like clones.

  “Jack, Miss Miller’s father and I go a long way. We were good buddies in high school, so I don’t have to tell you that this case is a big deal for me. Not only do I know her dad, but that was a particularly heinous crime.”

  “I know.”

  “What do you got, Jack?”

  “Nothing.”

  Greg Miller took a deep breath.

  “What do you mean, nothing? Tell us, what do you have?” The chief insisted.

  “I told you. I have nothing more than what you already know from the crime scene. We suspected that Jeffrey Simons, but he’s as clean as a whistle.”

  “You’ve got to be joking! That jerk was harassing my daughter! He was all over her! What else do you want? Do you need me to serve him on a platter?” Miller was at the edge of his seat, his face flushed in brewing anger.

  Chief Burns put his hand on Miller’s arm, “That’s all right, Greg, we’re on it.”

  “You’re on it? Your best shot right there has nothing. That’s what he just said,” Miller said staring at Burns.

  “I have nothing to go after him. No judge is ever going to grant me a warrant to search his house. Because I have nothing, squat. Not only I have nothing, but on top of it, he has a bullet-proof alibi. If we go one more time to question him, he’s going to file a lawsuit against the department for harassment. He would be right, because we have zero against him, that’s why.”

  Miller sat back in his chair. “What about those three kids Tracy talked about?”

  “They were hanging outside a 7-Eleven. I talked to the owner last night. He was a direct witness and confirmed they were there. He even showed me the security camera footage.”

  “What now, then?” Miller asked.

  “We wait for the lab results or a tip from the street.”

  “What do you mean, a tip?”

  “I’ve spread the word around. It might pay off. That crime was very bold. Somebody’s bound to talk.”

  Miller nodded without another word. He looked at the window and glanced at Chief Burns.

  “We’re going to catch him, Greg. I promise you that.”

  “You let me know if you have anything new, any update, anything you hear.”

  “You got it. Detective Delano is the best. Trust me on that.”

  “She was a sweet girl, you know.” Miller fixated on Delano, eyes reddening. “She was my baby. I don’t understand. What kind of animal could have done that?”

  Delano leaned forward on his desk. “I can promise you one thing, justice will be served.”

  7-Eleven

  Meet @ the 7-11 on Brookstone @ 4, the text said on Tracy’s iPhone. She showed the message to Brad sitting next to her in his Ford pickup.

  “What do you think?” She asked.

  “I’m thinking that I’m getting sick of their crap. Maybe I should talk to those bozos with my ball bat.”

  “That’d be very helpful,” she said without meaning it.

  “What else do you want me to do?”

  She stayed silent. The rain dotted the windshield in a discreet tapping sound.

  “You’re not thinking about going to see those losers, are you?”

  She looked at him for an instant without speaking. She looked down at the phone and typed back, for what?

  “You shouldn’t text and drive.”

  “Whatever, you’re not my mother, Brad.”

  “No, but you’re driving my truck.”

  “Then, you’ll tell me if we’re about to wreck.”

  He didn’t comment.

  She drove the pickup onto a small parking lot by a city park.

  3:15 PM, the rain-soaked baseball diamond was deserted.

  The phone buzzed again.

  “What’s that say?” He asked.

  “Talk.”

  “That’s it? Talk?”

  “Yep.”

  “Are you gonna go?”

  “Yep.”

  “I’ll go with you.”

  “You’re not my nanny, Brad.”

  “I ain’t your nanny, but if you’re stupid enough to go see those clowns, you need somebody to watch your back.”

  “Fine, but you stay in the truck.”

  “Sure.”

  “I mean it, Brad. You can go to watch my back, but not to cause problems.”

  “I won’t,” he said with a grin.

  “Brad? I mean it.”

  “Fine, jeez, I’ll stay in the flipping truck. But I’m telling you, at the first sign of trouble, I’ll be there with my bat, and I’ll break some knee caps.”

  She looked at him intently without saying anything. Her thumbs danced over the phone for a few seconds. I’ll be there.

  ~

  “What are you boys doing in front of my store?” The 7-Eleven Korean owner said after pushing his front door open.

  “Nothin’,” the Leader answered, hardly looking over his shoulder.

  “You can’t stay on my curb! You’re scaring off the customers! You’re taking a parking spot for nothing!”

  “Why don’t you go back to China?” The Leader, Clarence Whitney, a.k.a. Chongo, muttered to his two friends. A teenage chuckle followed.

  “Are you going to move? Or you want me to call the cops?”

  The Leader slowly stood up, “Calm down, Chang, we’re moving. Don’t get excited or you’re gonna blow a gasket.”

  “My name’s not Chang! Get out of here!” the short and skinny but assertive Asian man said, face tight with anger.

  The three moved to the edge of the parking lot and sat on a short concrete wall by a bus stop. An older woman was waiting with her granddaughter. She hardly looked at them. She had other priorities, buying groceries–at least what she could afford–her daughter unable to find a job, and pay the rent at the end of the month. It would all work out, somehow. Those kids? They belonged to the city. She could hardly see them. They were not a threat. They were bored, afraid of their dark future in a poor economy.

  ~

  Tracy pulled
into the parking lot and parked the black pickup at the opposite end.

  “Why so far?”

  “‘Cause I don’t want you breathing down my neck.”

  “No wonder why we broke up.”

  “Yeah, but you’re still here.”

  “Whatever.” He looked away in an instant.

  She opened the door into a big question mark. She had no idea what was waiting for her. She didn’t want to admit it, but she was glad Brad was there. Three boys against a girl wasn’t very fair, but against a girl and her not-so-official boyfriend with his bat was a lot more equal. Besides, Brad was eager to prove his love, even if he would never admit it.

  ~

  “Chongo. She’s here,” the Leader’s friend said.

  They turned around.

  “And her boyfriend is with her,” Clarence commented.

  “Figures, the guy thinks that we’re going to rough her up,” one of the other two said.

  “Nah, we’re good boys!” The three snickered. “Ok, girls, you stay here. I’ll chat with her real quick,” the Leader said.

  “What? You don’t want us to listen?”

  “You two are retards. You’re going to scare the chick off.”

  “You got that right!” The duo laughed again like hyenas.

  Chongo stood up and slowly walked to the corner of the parking lot, equidistant between Brad and his boys. Looking at Tracy, he jerked his head to show where he wanted to meet her.

  “Nice street corner,” Tracy said.

  “You should be used to it,” Chongo snickered.

  A surge of anger rose from deep within her. “I’m not here to be insulted by some jerk. My boyfriend is here and he’s going to–”

  “Calm down, girl.”

  “What do you want?” Tracy asked.

  “Look, what happened to your sister wasn’t cool.”

  “That wasn’t cool? That’s a nice way to put it. Some bastard raped her and slashed her throat. That’s it.”

  He touched the tip of his nose with the back of his hand, unable to find his words. He looked up for an instant. The rain had abated. Large grey clouds sailed above them. “We know a bunch of guys on the street. We’re going to talk with some people to pass the word along. Look, we’re pissed off by what happened. A lot of homies are talking about it. Maybe we can hear something.”