“Dad?” Chase asked his voice little more than a whisper.
Lauren pulled away from him and stared down at Steve. He resembled a corpse, surrounded by a spreading pool of blood. The blood made her feel guilty, no; it made her feel good, she giggled at the growing pool of blood. Her face hardened her hair shortened, the evil was returning. She shook her head and gritted her teeth. She must fight, but she could feel she was losing, she was so tired. “Chase go to your room,” she shouted.
“Mum.”
“Now RUN.”
The look she gave him was seconds away from the monster. Chase hesitated; he had to save his dad. A deep pain seemed to sear into his heart, an ache so big it threatened to swallow him, he knew that his Dad must be dead. He wanted to hug him, to bury his face in his hair, but he knew that he had to save Lucy. He looked up at his Mum, but the eyes staring back at him could have frozen his blood. He backed away and ran to the car, tears clouding his vision as he fled.
Lauren and Val fought as Chase left the deck. Val wanted to follow him and smash the axe into his skull. Lauren wanted to check on Steve. She reached down and grabbed his ankle, still fighting each other they dragged him into the cabin, leaving a puddle of blood and a slick red trail on the deck behind them.
Chapter Thirty-Five
The sun was setting through heavy cloud making the sky blood red with purple, oppressive bruising. It drew a crimson blanket over the cabin and painted the walls and deck scarlet, hiding the stain where Steve had lain.
Lauren sat in the rocker, her hair mid length and slightly curly. It was neither her style nor Val’s but somewhere in between. Lucy was on her lap, cuddled into her neck with Bunkie clutched between them. She was enjoying the apparent normality of her mother. Rocking backwards and forwards, relaxing as the sunset painting them first a crimson rose that deepened to maroon as the sun disappeared behind the cabin.
“Mum, I’m hungry,” Lucy said.
The rocking continued, and Lauren squeezed a little tighter. She was losing it again and tried desperately to hold onto Lauren, to let the love of her little girl keep her here. She became Val. Her hair straightened and then curled into the bob.
“Where’s dad and Chase?” Lucy asked, still relaxing.
“They’ve been naughty boys.” Val’s voice was coarser than Lauren’s.
Lucy giggled. “You sent them to bed. Can I go see them?”
“No.”
Lucy tried to get up, but she was held tight. She started to feel nervous, something was wrong with Mummy again, and she needed the bathroom. “Mum I have to pee.”
Val rocked the chair faster and squeezed a little harder. Squeeze the damn child till it pops. “Later.”
The chair rocked forwards, and Lucy wondered what to do, she was held tight, could not move but wanted to see Dad. The chair rocked backwards, and Val was gone, Lucy was the girl with the nails in her hands. The pain was instant; she screamed inside.
As it rocked forwards Lucy was back, on Val’s knee. Her mouth stuck in a scream, her eyes as wide as dinner plates, what had she felt? She clutched to Val as the chair rocked backwards, and she became the boy with his leg missing. This time there were no screams only despair and the dawning of death. His eyes closed, as his last breath stuttered into tortured lungs, and the chair rocked forwards.
Lucy screamed and fought against Val. She kicked her legs and freed a fist, smashing it into Val’s chest. Bunkie fell to the ground as Lucy fought for her life; her screams high and desperate. Val pulled her even closer, so close that she restricted her breathing. Lucy sobbed, as the chair rocked backwards, back to the nightmare and the pain. She had to stop it. She would not go back to the scary people. She sank her teeth into Val’s neck, and the chair stopped.
Val bent down and picked up Bunkie. Stuffing the rabbit between Lucy’s face and her shoulder she pulled the girl even tighter. Lucy sucked on the mottled fur. Her face grew hot. Her lungs screamed, and she started to see black. She pushed with all her might desperate for air as the chair rocked backwards.
***
In the marital bedroom, Steve was tied to the bed. His right temple and eye were swollen and crusted with blood. His face was as pale as a corpse.
Slowly his eyes flickered. Bright light seared into his retinas, and he closed them quickly to prevent the red hot poker that had stabbed into his brain. He tried to reach his head, but his arm would not move. He opened his eyes, gently, just a little and waited for the pain to stop. Realization hit him; he was tied to the bed, his arms and legs spread-eagled, and he was too weak to move.
Something nagged at him through the pain, what had woken him? Lucy, he had heard her scream, heard the terror in her voice. He pulled with his arms. The rope cut into his wrists. He tried with his legs, nothing, but he could push at the base of the bed.
The world spun out of control and nausea forced him to slump onto the bed. “Lauren, damn it Lauren, let her go.” He kicked at the bed, again and again, anger and fear helped ease the pain that each movement sent spiraling through his battered body. He rested and tried again, when something scraped behind him. He jerked his head as far as it would go and was flooded with joy and relief.
“Mum’s gone crazy again,” Chase said climbing through the window.
“Thank god, you’re okay, where’s Lucy?”
Chase started to untie the ropes, his fingers clumsy with the coarse knots. Steve helped as he was freed, his head spinning as he sat up. He pulled Chase close, breathing in his scent and hugged him. “You are the bravest boy I know, but you have to let me deal with this.” He ran a hand through the boy’s unruly hair.
“But your heart?”
“I’m fine,” Steve said, shaking his head to try and loosen the knife that seemed to be stabbing into his brain. “Stay out of the way... If she hurts me...” What could he say? He had to keep the boy safe. “Hide and regroup, like you just did, but do not let her get you.”
Chase searched his dad’s face. He wanted to reach up and touch the bloody lump on his forehead, but his hand faltered. “But it’s Mum.”
Steve touched the lump. It was painful, but his head was clearing, he would be fine, he hoped. “I don’t know what’s happening, but that is not your Mum.”
They locked eyes, both wanting to hug, but both knowing time was short.
“Go hide,” Steve said and watched as the boy disappeared through the window. Steve headed for the kitchen.
Lucy screamed. Steve stopped. The sound curdled his stomach and raised an anger in him he did not believe possible. At that moment, he could have torn Lauren’s head off and spat down the stump. He ran for the door.
He could see Lucy sat alone in the chair, covered in blood. Fear froze his legs, and he stumbled forwards, where was Lauren? He took a step, unsteady, the chair rocked forwards, and Lucy rocked, screaming. Her face red and covered in tears. He raced through the door, reaching out to her.
Something glanced off his shoulder and pushed him to his knees. The chair rocked before him. Lucy screamed, her eyes so wide. He pulled his own eyes away and rolled over to face the door. His shoulder throbbed and sent fresh needles of pain along his arm and into his chest.
Lauren rushed towards him, her face a mask of vengeance, the axe above her head. She slammed it down towards him, spitting and cursing. He rolled left, and the axe just missed his chest. He kicked out, a lucky blow connected with her legs. He felt the pain shoot through him but pushed harder. Her legs went out from under her, and she dropped to the deck, hitting hard on her back. Her eyes glazed over, and she lay still, taking advantage of this he rolled over and jumped to his feet.
She was still down. He fought down his guilt and grabbed Lucy from the chair. She stopped screaming and looked into his eyes. He scanned her quickly. There was no blood, but she was wet, from tears and sweat. Holding her close, he took one last look at Val and ran from the deck into the night.
“I need my babies, give me my babies,” Val screamed from behind him
.
He glanced back she was on her feet and raced after him, the axe held ready. There was nowhere to go, it was dark and oppressive around the cabin, and he could not see the tree line or the lake. If he set off across the open ground, she would catch him easily. He would never make the trees. He ran round the cabin. She was gaining. He could hear her breath, hear her footsteps pounding the grass. He felt a rush of air as she swung the axe at him.
“You can’t escape,” she screamed as the axe whistled past his arm.
Steve was breathing heavy; he ducked right and kicked forward putting everything he had into escaping her. The quick turn had taken her by surprise, and he gained some ground. He spotted the SUV ahead and sprinted to it. Please God let it be open. He reached the car just before her and ran around to the door fumbling, searching for the handle in the gloom. Lauren was so close, and he felt wind again as the axe just missed his arm. He found the handle and pulled. It opened the driver’s door. He ran past it to put the door between them. The axe crashed into the door and pushed against him. The metal slammed into his shins, and he grunted with pain but held his ground. pushing his hip into the door, he threw Lucy across to the passenger seat, climbed in and slammed down the locks. They were safe for a second. “Are you hurt?” he asked.
“Daddy I’m scared... but I think I’m okay. I thought you were d... de... dead.”
She clung to his neck as if she would never let go. Huge sobs rocked her against him. He held her close pulling in deep breaths to try and lower his pulse, he closed his eyes.
CRASH. The axe hit the windscreen. It penetrated four inches through the glass, shattering the screen. Tiny fragments of glass showered across them as the axe was pulled clear. Steve scooted across the seat and exited out the other side, grabbing Lucy with him.
Val slammed the axe at the car, smashing a headlight and ran round to follow them.
Steve grabbed Lucy and headed back to the cabin. It looked so pretty all lit up in the dark. It looked welcoming and safe, but he doubted it would be. He could hear Val behind them. Her breathing was ragged as she raced after them. He could almost feel her breath on his neck, and the hair there rose in trepidation. She swung the axe. It whistled past his ear; he ducked and pushed for more speed, but he was tiring. His chest ached, and his legs felt like lead. Lucy bounced in his arms and made running harder, he knew she would catch them soon as they zigzagged back towards the cabin.
“You bastard,” she screamed and swung the axe at him. He ducked left, and it fell short. She overbalanced, and went down on one knee.
Steve spurted ahead. His feet pounded the ground as he gave it every ounce of fight he had. He made it to the deck and ran to the cabin, his feet pounded on the wooden boards which gave with each footfall and seemed to push him on his way. He made it and pulled on the door. Heavy footsteps were gaining on him. He opened the door and fell through, slamming it closed behind him.
Chapter Thirty-Six
Steve burst into the cabin that was a haven of light, but it stung his tender eyes, and he blinked rapidly. He slammed his shoulder into the wood forcing it closed and was overcome with panic, there was no way they were getting out of here.
The door rammed into the frame, and before he could reach for the lock it was pounded by the axe. It cleaved through the door sending splinters across his shoulders and into his neck. “Shit.” He tried to reach the lock, but the axe was pulled free and crashed down again. The door shook and this time the blade caught his shoulder. Ice hot pain seared his muscles, and he screamed in pain. But he jammed his battered back against the door and pushed with all he had. Sweat was running down his back and his forehead. How could this be happening? He wanted to open the door to reason with Lauren, but it was not her, and he had to keep this thing away from his children. The sweat stung as it dripped into his eyes, but he could not move away. “Lucy, go under me, keep back but turn the key.”
The axe was wrenched free, and fresh splinters stung as they splattered his cheeks. Lucy stood frozen, her eyes so wide they seemed to fill her face. She was chewing her thumb and shaking. The urge to comfort her, to hold her in his arms and tell her everything was okay was overwhelming, but he needed to make it safe first. Bending round he tried to turn the lock, but he couldn’t reach the key and keep the pressure on the door at the same time.
“I just want to bake a bloody pie,” Lauren screamed from the deck. The axe smashed into the door rattling the wood against Steves back, and splinters of wood flew across his head and landed on the floor before him. The lights went off, and the cabin plunged into darkness. Steve felt the slimy hand of terror crawl up his spine, but he had to stay strong. He pushed back against the door.
“Little piggy, little piggy let me in. I’m gonna chop off your chinny chin chin.” She cackled like a witch just before the axe smashed into the door again. Steve knew he could not hold it much longer. He tried to catch Lucy’s eyes, but she was lost in her own terror, so small and vulnerable, she stood with her hands clasped together, her head down as if she wanted to be small, invisible, there was no way he could reach her. He stretched down just as Chase appeared and ducked under his arm turning the lock.
Steve moved clear he rubbed his shoulder, his hand came away covered in blood. It didn’t matter he pulled Chase into his arms, and they hugged. Knowing the boy was still safe and so brave gave him courage. The axe hit the door, and huge chunks of wood bounced onto them. Steve wanted to pull Lucy to him, to offer comfort and support but for now there was no time.
“Grab the table,” Steve said.
They were become accustomed to the dark, and both hauled the table onto its end and jammed it in front of the door. The axe hit again, sinking deep into the door, it shook the cabin and sent splinters of wood flying into the table.
Steve picked Lucy up and held her to his chest. She was shaking and making small mewling noises like a frightened kitten. He rocked her gently watching the table bounce each time the door was assaulted. They had to get out of here, had to make it safer but what could they do? Then he remembered and hit his head with his fist turning his back away from the smashing wood.
“What?” Chase asked.
“Radio, there’s an emergency radio in the cellar.” He could see the hope in their eyes. He wanted to believe they were safe, but so far she had been one step in front of them at every turn. “It’s not been used in years.”
The axe hit the door shaking the table and splintering off more wood.
“Will it work?” Chase asked.
Steve pulled the kids close. “You bet.”
The lights came on, chasing away the shadows and bringing a greater sense of hope. The chopping stopped. The silence was a palpable thing. Steve walked to the window and looked out. Val sat in the rocking chair, the axe forgotten across her knee. She rocked backwards, and forwards her eyes closed, she looked so relaxed she could be asleep. Steve felt a surge of faith; this was their chance. They had to get to that radio while she was in the chair. Maybe the Val thing needed to recharge if so fight it Lauren we need your help.
“Stay with me,” he said and walked around the cabin. He made sure the windows were closed and where he could, put furniture against them. It was not enough to stop keep them safe, but it may slow it down.
Back in the kitchen he could see the fear that the children were trying to hide. Chase had an arm around Lucy, and he gritted his teeth. Steve could see tears building in his eyes, but he was acting strong for Lucy. Lucy was still making little whimpering sounds, and she shook against Chase. The boy held her to him; he gently stroked her hair and smiled at his dad. He had been both resourceful and brave, and Lucy had been through so much it hurt him to think about it. The worst torture for any man is to see his children suffer, and Steve knew the hell they had been through together. Pride and love lifted him and gave him courage; they would survive. He pulled them close and made them a promise; he would keep them safe.
***
In the hallway just before the
kitchen was a hatch that led into the fruit cellar, he smiled at the children and opened it up. Narrow stairs lead down into a dark and fearsome hole.
Lucy started to cry. Steve sat down and pulled her to him, he held her close and whispered into her hair, “It’s all okay, we’re going to be fine. She was shaking against his shoulder. He brushed her hair from her face and looked into her big tearful eyes. “Everything is all right, trust Daddy.”
She nodded her lips quivered, but she was fighting for control.
“Now follow close behind me.” He pushed her away and stepped into the hole.
Lucy shrieked out her fear.
Steve looked at her terrified face. He did not want to leave the kids, but Chase had pulled his sister to one side and was hugging her close. He nodded at his dad. “If anything happens come down to me.”
Chase nodded. The terror was apparent in his fathomless brown eyes, but he would be strong for Lucy. Steve wanted to hug him, both of them. Wanted to tell them how proud he was and hold them close until they felt safe, but he knew time was short. With one last look, he stepped down and headed into the cellar.
A quick pull on a threadbare cord and a dull light feebly lit the middle of the room but left the outside in deep shadow. Each step he took cautiously on the narrow stairs. He needed to hurry, but the threads were rickety and his legs were as stiff as broomsticks.
As he reached the bottom, a cobweb trickled across his face, its sticky tendrils clinging to him. Steve flapped at it, brushing the hateful thing away with almost hysterical fear. Calm down, it’s nothing. A shadow crossed behind him. His pulse kicked up a beat as he turned expecting someone to be lurking there. The shadow seemed to shrink away. Was he hallucinating, exhaustion and pain were taking their toll. He peered into the gloom. There was nothing but somehow the darkness seemed a little darker.
Then the darkness moved it crept slowly towards him, like a smoke cloud as black as death. He stepped back, reaching out to push it away, but his hands touched nothing. He slid his feet back across the dusty floor, and the darkness followed. Further, he stepped, never taking his eyes off the murky depths. Back and back it pushed him across the dirt floor of the cellar. A cobweb clawed at his face. He grabbed at it swiping his hands with almost hysteria. Back he walked as the blackness advanced.
Daddy Won't Kill You (An Occult Horror) Page 13