Slaughter Series

by A. I. Nasser

  Big whoop!

  He trudged to the front door and opened it without bothering to see who was outside. He froze when he saw Eva standing on the front porch. She was wearing a jacket two sizes too large, her hair matted to her head and face, wet and dripping as she gazed at him. Even in the cold, she was clad in shorts that could have passed for bikini bottoms, her long legs ending at bare feet that had been muddied from her trek across the yard to his house. Her shirt stuck to her like a second layer of skin, wet and revealing, his eyes immediately finding their way to her chest as he stared at her.

  Now would you look at that!

  “Eva,” he greeted simply, dumb, unable to think of anything better to say.

  “Is she here?” the blonde asked, peeking over his shoulder.

  “Who?”

  “Your wife,” she replied, her voice cold, the words coming out like a venomous hiss.

  You know what, Johnny-boy? I take it back. Distractions are good.

  John shook his head, ignoring the voice.

  “Good,” Eva said and pushed her way inside, wrapping her arms around John as she pressed her lips against his, their touch soft and wet and everything he had ever wanted. His hands came up immediately, wrapping around her, kissing hungrily before he realized what he was doing.

  He pushed her back. “Wait,” he said, blinking as he tried to clear his mind. “Stop, this isn’t right. We can’t do this.” Eva tried to kiss him again and he pulled away. “I’m serious.”

  She stepped back and threw off her jacket, letting it fall in a wet pile next to the door. John could see her footprints across the hardwood, and he immediately began to think of how to clean them before Karen came home.

  When Eva started to pull off her shirt, he grabbed both her hands to stop her. “Eva, wait.”

  “Is it because you’re married? Really?” she asked, suddenly scowling at him, her face confused as to why he was not taking what she was offering. “It didn’t stop you before.”

  She has a point, Johnny-boy. You don’t sound very convincing right now.

  “Listen to me,” he said through the voices laughing in his head. “You’re a beautiful girl, and I will never forget what happened between us, but it stops at that. I can’t do this anymore. It was a beautiful mistake, and it should stay at that.”

  “Two mistakes,” Eva said, still frowning at him.

  “I can’t make a third one,” John explained. “My wife can’t know about this. I love her, Eva, do you understand that?”

  You are one of the worst liars on Earth, Johnny-boy. You’re practically staring at her chest.

  “I don’t care,” Eva said, surprising him with her boldness. “I want this, and I know you do, too. She doesn’t have to know. She isn’t here.”

  John hesitated and shook his head, but he wasn’t convincing. Eva stepped closer to him and pushed her body against him, her wet clothes soaking his own.

  “Ten minutes,” she whispered. “She won’t be back in ten minutes.”

  I say go for it, buddy. It might just be what the doctor ordered.

  “I can’t,” John said, unsure who he was talking to.

  Eva pushed up on her toes, her face inches away, her lips grazing his. “Ten minutes, John,” she said. “If we’re never going to do this again, I want ten minutes.”

  Are you going to refuse a girl’s request for a goodbye romp?

  John decided he wouldn’t.

  ***

  When Karen came home, the entire house was in darkness.

  It was quickly turning into a storm outside, and it had taken her longer than usual to drive home through the torrents of rain. She wished she had left June’s earlier, but the story of the founders had been too intriguing, and June definitely had a way with words. She had made a mental note to tell John about that.

  She turned on the lights and sighed when nothing happened. It was starting to get frustrating how much money they were spending on bulbs. She would have to call an electrician, worried that the house’s faulty wiring might cause more than a few blackouts.

  Forget the lights. Didn’t we agree that the hubby would handle things from now on?

  Karen felt her way down the hall, her eyes catching sight of the living room windows open and the rain flying in. One of the panes was broken, obviously from the force of it swinging open, glass barely visible in the moonlight and the occasional flashes of lightning. She wondered how John hadn’t heard it, and decided not to bother with that, either.

  Let the hubby deal with it.

  She turned the kitchen lights on and immediately closed her eyes against the blinding fluorescents. She put the bags of groceries down next to the refrigerator and started to unpack them, when she suddenly heard a loud crash from upstairs.

  Looks like the hubby’s still awake.

  Karen frowned, ignoring the groceries as she made her way down the hall and up the stairs. The crash sounded a second time, and suddenly she heard something else. She stood completely still a few steps away from the floor landing, trying to figure out where the noise was coming from. When she realized it was coming from above her, she instantly understood what the sounds were.

  Rats.

  It’s time to actually nag, cupcake. You need that exterminator.

  The crash came again, and then again, slowly sounding more like a drumbeat than anything else. Karen walked up the final few steps and opened the door to her bedroom. John was in bed, buried under the covers and snoring, unaware of either the crashing or the sound of rats above his head.

  She looked about, and it was only when she turned on the second-floor lights did she notice where the sound was coming from. At the end of the hall, the small trap door leading to the attic was opening and closing, rising a few inches before crashing down again. With every crash, the sound of rats increased, as if they were scurrying away from the sound and finding somewhere safe to hide.

  Have you ever seen that before?

  She hadn’t, and she made her way down the hall. She walked slowly, hands against the wall as she tried to look through the opening of the trap door, hoping to see why it was doing what should have been impossible.

  When she was directly under it, the trap door flew open and the darkness beyond gaped at her. The scurrying of the rats disappeared completely, and a stench as strong as the one coming from the basement floated out of the attic.

  Are you going to just stand there?

  She wasn’t, and despite her better judgment, Karen grabbed the first rung of the ladder and made her way up. She felt around the opening, making sure there weren’t any furry surprises waiting for her, and then slowly pushed herself all the way up. Moving quickly, she jumped to her feet and tried to make out anything in the darkness, the single window in the far corner barely letting any light in.

  A silhouette moved in front of the window, something dark, the shadows around it rising and falling in ripples as the face of a woman seemed to materialize between them. Karen froze as she looked into the eyes staring at her and the smile that appeared beneath them.

  We need to talk, cupcake.

  Karen listened.

  Karen watched.

  Karen saw.

  ***

  John woke up with a start, the sound of thunder rattling the window of the bedroom as flashes of lightning illuminated the room and threw shadows against the wall.

  Something’s wrong, Johnny-boy. You better get up.

  John rolled out of bed, quickly noticing that it was two in the morning and Karen’s side had not been disturbed. He failed to imagine any reason as to why she would still be out at this hour, and reached for his phone to see if he had missed any of her calls. When he found nothing, he dialed her number and pressed the phone against his ear, waiting.

  He heard the sound of her cell phone echo up from downstairs, and he instantly relaxed, making his way out of the room to see why she hadn’t come to bed. He froze when he crossed the threshold onto the landing, his eyes registering the open att
ic door and the familiar stench they had been trying to shut away downstairs.

  That door’s never been open before.

  John felt his stomach turn and his heart skip a beat.

  She’s up there.

  “She can’t be up there,” John whispered, his head shaking slowly, his hand suddenly shivering against the cold that seemed to be dispersing throughout the house.

  You sure it’s the cold, buddy?

  John edged towards the attic, quickly turning on his cell phone’s flashlight and shining it through the dark opening. He tried to make out anything up there, but from where he was standing, it was almost impossible.

  She’s up there.

  John put his hand on the ladder rungs.

  You sure you want to do this, Johnny-boy?

  John felt his whole body shiver and nodded to himself. If Karen was up there, he had to get her down. There was no knowing how dangerous the attic was.

  He climbed the ladder slowly with the cell phone in his mouth as he angled the light into the darkness. He pulled his body all the way up and sat at the edge of the trap door, shining his light through the entire space. It was bigger than he had expected, but he saw Karen instantly.

  She was standing completely still in front of a small window to one side, her back to him, and her breath coming out in fogs. He instantly felt colder up there, and he wondered how she could stand the chill.

  “Karen?”

  She didn’t answer.

  John pushed himself up to his feet, balancing his weight as he stepped over the trap door opening and edged towards his wife.

  “Karen, what are you doing up here?”

  This doesn’t feel too good, Johnny-boy. I say leave her here and get the hell out.

  John frowned, the thought too ridiculous to even consider. He touched his wife’s shoulder and instantly pulled back from the coldness of her skin.

  “Karen?”

  He reached for her again, moving around her so she could see him.

  That was when he felt his entire body go limp, his knees buckling beneath him. Karen was staring right out the window, not even registering his presence, her face static and emotionless. But, it was her eyes that brought the fear of God into him. Her beautiful auburn eyes were gone, replaced by only whites, the milky film a reflection of everything that seemed empty in the world.

  He stepped away from her, his body shaking uncontrollably as he tried not to scream out in horror.

  I warned you! Why the hell won’t you listen?

  Karen’s head slowly turned towards him, the whites staring at him as her brow furrowed.

  “She told me everything,” she said, her voice soft, as if coming from far away. “She showed me everything.”

  John tried to answer, but his mouth was frozen shut. Slowly, Karen’s eyes rolled back into place, the whites gone as she blinked her vision back into focus.

  “I know,” she said, staring accusingly at him.

  John shook his head in confusion, still unable to voice anything comprehensible.

  “I know, Johnny-boy,” she said.

  “What are you talking about?” he stammered, his heart racing, his breathing coming out in gasps.

  “Eva Green,” she hissed. “I know about you and Eva Green, you son of a bitch.”

  Chapter 16

  When John Krik walked into Hank’s shop, he was a different man.

  For starters, Hank had no idea when John had last looked at himself in the mirror. The man’s hair was completely disheveled, a comb absolutely useless if used to tame the chaos. His eyes had dark patches below them, almost completely black, as if he had just been in a bar fight and had taken one too many beatings. There were scars on his right cheek, something that looked like a cat had tried to claw his eyes out, and the inflammation around the scratches looked horrible.

  There was something else that worried Hank more, and he couldn’t put his finger on it until John was standing three feet away from him. That was when he realized the actual problem. John was staring at Hank with eyes that were utterly emotionless, like he was staring into space, looking right through Hank instead of at him. The look disturbed him, to the point where he wanted to turn away from those lifeless beads and busy himself with anything at all.

  “Jesus, John, ya look like hell,” Hank said, his voice a whisper, still taken aback by the shell of a man who stood in front of him.

  “I’m not sleeping very well,” John admitted.

  Hank nodded and put away the small radio he had been working on. “Ya don’t say?”

  “Karen and I have been having problems,” John stammered, “and that stench in the house isn’t helping.”

  Hank nodded slowly, half listening to what John was saying. “Back, is it?”

  “For a week now,” John replied, running a hand through the mess on top of his head as he scratched aimlessly at his scalp. “I wanted to see if you still had that contact of yours. The exterminator?”

  “Sure, buddy,” Hank said turning around, keeping an eye on John as he rummaged through a few shelf drawers and pulled a card out. He set the exterminator’s business card on the counter, opting not to actually touch John, as if what he had was contagious.

  “Ya sure you’re okay?” Hank asked, genuinely worried about the man. Over the past three weeks, he had really grown fond of the couple at the Dean house, and seeing John this way upset him.

  John shrugged and nodded, apparently unsure how to answer that.

  “How ‘bout we put off the exterminator a bit,” Hank suggested, “and get ourselves a coupla drinks at Denny’s?”

  John scratched his head again and squinted. “I’m not sure, Hank. I don’t want to leave Karen alone right now. She’s in a really bad place.”

  “The wife’ll be fine,” Hank said, grabbing his keys and crossing around the counter, gently nudging John along. “This’ll be good for ya.”

  John didn’t argue and let Hank lead the way.

  ***

  Karen sat idly on the bench on her front porch, cigarette in hand, legs crossed as she looked out at nothing in particular. For the past few days, this had been her usual routine, completely ignoring John throughout the day until they both went to sleep and she had made sure he was in his own room with his door locked.

  He had frowned in confusion the first time he saw her smoking, indoors for that matter, but hadn’t said anything. Actually, he hadn’t said much since that night in the attic when she lashed out at him, breaking several nails as she clawed at his face and slapped him in relentless fury.

  Karen thought it strange that only two hours after her outburst she had become completely numb, John’s presence nothing more than a reminder that another living being occupied the same space she did. By the third day he had become a mere haze, a presence that differed only from the rest of the furniture in the house in that he moved and talked.

  She had moved out of their room the very night she had found out about his sexcapades, her eyes fully relaying her desire that he stay as far away from her as possible if he valued his life. Since then, he had complied, quiet, almost lifeless, giving her the space she needed to process what she had found out. Every now and then she would hear him tapping at his keyboard, and a part of her always wanted to storm into his room and slam the laptop against his head.

  That desire only lasted a day, though. Now he was practically dead to her.

  At least he’s stepping up his game, cupcake.

  “Don’t call me that,” she whispered, already hating the voice in the back of her head. She hardly remembered anything that had happened that night, only that she had seen things so clearly. Every kiss, every position, every scream of pleasure, their bodies entangled together in her bed. How could she be so blind?

  Well, now you know.

  This was one of the many things Karen wished she hadn’t known.

  John had changed dramatically since then, cooking, cleaning, making sure everything in the house was up to the standards she u
sually kept. She wondered how long that would last, how long the guilt would keep him trying. Then she realized that she didn’t care.

  At least now he’s not trying to get rid of you.

  “No, he isn’t,” Karen thought out loud, but deep down she wondered if she actually wanted to stay. She couldn’t stand being around him anymore, being in the same house he had cheated on her in. She had wanted to take the bed out to the backyard and burn it, sometimes imagining him tied to it while the flames lit up and he screamed into the night.

  You have to let this go, cupcake, and move on. At least you’re staying, right?

  “I said, don’t call me that.”

  She heard a door open and close, and she numbly looked to her right as Papa Green walked towards his car. He saw her and waved, but this time Karen didn’t wave back.

  Do you think he knows?

  Who cares? She obviously didn’t. David Green waved again, probably assuming she hadn’t seen him, and when he didn’t get a reply, got into his car, pulled out of his driveway, and drove off in the opposite direction. She watched the car disappear, inhaling her cigarette smoke as she felt it burn her lungs.

  It doesn’t matter whether he knows or not, you’re right. Let’s go back inside and try to find something better to do.

  Karen shook her head slowly as she felt the tears collect in her eyes, her head starting to throb lightly as her emotions washed over her. She hated Cafeville. She hated the Greens and the Deans and the whole lot of them. She hated this house, and she hated Derrick Fern for sending John out here in the first place.

  That’s a little overdramatic, cupcake.

  She didn’t reply. She suddenly felt a weight on her chest, suffocating her, and she quickly realized that she was beginning to panic. She needed to get out of here. She needed to pack her things, get into her car and drive home. No stops, no breaks, all the way to their house. She wouldn’t even pick up Dylan for a few days. She needed some time alone with her thoughts, somewhere familiar.

  Not here. Definitely not here.