The Pit in the Woods: A Mercy Falls Mythos

by Nathaniel Reed

  Dear God, please let my aim be true.

  Yes! He felt one of the vials in his hand, and as the vampire ran toward him, he threw the glass at it with all his might. It was only five feet from him when the glass vial shattered against the creatures face. The holy water inside caused a violent reaction. The vampire’s face instantly smoked and bubbled up with giant boils. It shrieked even worse than the first, a combination of bats, pigs, and girlish squeals of horror. It fell backward onto the ground writhing in pain. This kill was easier. Blake jabbed the stake once, directly into the creature’s heart. The vampire had one final jolt, almost arching its back into it, and then quit moving altogether.

  For several minutes Fulton Blake simply stood in shock, numb. He’d just killed two men, without a second thought. Of course, they weren’t men. Perhaps once they had been, but no more. And it was self-defense, not that he’d needed an excuse. He’d caught them, doing what they do. This thought prompted him to look more closely behind the trash cans.

  Yes, the young man, no more than twenty eight was clearly dead. His neck was still gushing blood, although now it slowed to a trickle. His mouth was open, cut short mid-scream; his eyes wide and glazed over.

  Blake glanced over at his handiwork, then down at himself. The shirt and light jacket he wore were both splattered with blood, his sneakers soaked by residual rain accumulated on the ground. He pulled the boots off his first kill, and took his own sneakers and socks off, donning the boots. He took his jacket and shirt off.

  “Nice coat,” he said to the dead vampire and carefully lifted him, sat him up, and rolled him over until he could get the duster completely off him; all the while fearing that he would wake up, grab him by the throat, and squeeze the life out of him. After all, he’d seen the same horror movies everyone else had seen. Surprisingly, although he’d jabbed the stake repeatedly into this one, the trench it wore bore very little signs of blood, and what it did was slowly fading into the material itself. The thing’s shirt, however, was soaked in blood.

  With his disheveled appearance and the dead thing’s jacket and boots on, with no shirt underneath, Blake looked like a hobo who’d stolen someone’s clothes. He used his own spattered shirt to wipe the blood off his face and patted down his hair. He had to at least make an attempt at looking inconspicuous. That also meant he couldn’t leave here without cleaning up some of the evidence. He dug through the trashcans until he found a discarded plastic shopping bag to put his old clothes in, and put that into the satchel. He buttoned up his coat and cinched it (although the weather was mild), so it didn’t look like he had no shirt on underneath. He began to marvel that no one had stumbled upon him yet, especially with all the ungodly screaming. It seemed luck was on his side tonight.

  His confused conscience was beginning to dissipate. In that moment his heart became stone. His head, for the first time cleared of grief and guilt, became a weapon; a sight pointed directly at his enemies. He would have been especially pleased if he’d known that the vampires he’d just killed were two of the three young men, by the names Edward and James, which had abducted his daughter, and that his revenge had already begun in kind. He was wearing Edward’s coat, and would wear it for decades to come, as a symbol of his mission: Take as many of them down with you before you die, and bring back Vivien if you can.

  III

  July 2014

  1

  At first she thought it was part of a dream; so soft were the taps against the glass; but then a voice accompanied them.

  “Eve,” it whispered loudly, “Let me in Eve.”

  She looked across the bed to the far window, on the other side of the room. A pale skinned man, little more than a teenager, in a rumpled suit and bow tie floated there, outside the window, behind the crisscrossed strips of tape Blake had put up. Eve was on the second floor.

  The weapons, she thought. They were beside the bed. She reached down for the weapons chest, still looking at the young man, vampire, whatever. His eyes were looking at her intently. She was transfixed by his gaze.

  “Eeeeeeevvvvvveeeee,” the boy pleaded.

  “No,” she shook her head fiercely, “Mustn’t look!” Eve turned away, shifting her eyes towards the weapons case, lifted it up on to the bed two-handed (it weighed that much), and opened the latch. She glanced up. He was still there, hovering.

  Eve pulled out the silver plated handgun, pointing it at the vampire, feeling stupid. She wished she had the crossbow. Had he put it back on the shelf? She couldn’t remember. The vampire was not afraid of the gun, and he knew she wouldn’t shoot out the window. One eye gazed at her from a square formed by tape.

  “Go away!” She grabbed a crucifix with her other hand and lifted it. The vampire hissed, but made no effort to leave.

  “Blake, where are you?” she whispered to herself. She knew her resolve was faltering. The vampire held her gaze. She was finding it more and more difficult to avoid his eyes. It wasn’t just that he was hypnotizing her; his voice was inside her head, calling to her; his blood was calling to her.

  “Eve,” she heard him say, in her head, just before he said the word out loud and saw his mouth move. She wanted to let him in. She felt her finger loosen on the trigger. “Let me in Eve, come join us.”

  When he said us, she realized there were two others in the distance behind him. She could barely make them out between the squares of tape, except for their glowing eyes, lit up like fireflies.

  “Come in,” she heard herself say. Eve witnessed the hideous grin of victory divided in the middle by tape, and then the crash as it punched through the window. The glass stretched, sticking to the tape, rubberized; coming down in a single sheet off the frame, the sound muffled as if the glass were equipped with a silencer. But the sound of it and the sight of it was enough to wake her from her trance. She lay down the cross, both hands steadying the gun. Eve pulled the trigger, three times. The vampire flew backward through the hole it just made, its mouth an “O” of surprise.

  Eve was fairly sure one of the shots had taken him in the throat, because she heard a sound like “Ack!” come out of him, as if he were choking. Downstairs Blake heard the shots as he was opening the door, and preparing to ascend the stairs. He couldn’t see her window from his vantage point, because it looked out on the back of the house. He took the stairs as quickly as his aged frame would allow, his hand still clutching the brown paper sack of Chinese takeout. He hoped he’d be able to reach her in time if she needed him.

  Eve saw that the other two vampires had come to the opening at the window to take the other one’s place, but it was as if they were trying to push through some invisible barrier. She’d only asked the first to come in. These hadn’t been invited yet, which gave her a distinct advantage. She could harm them, but they could not reach her. But they flew to either side as she pulled the trigger again. She knew the first one wasn’t done, that it was only injured and recuperating. Not only because she knew bullets couldn’t kill him, but because she felt he was still active.

  Blake slammed through the door. “Eve!” he said, “Are you all right?”

  “He almost had me,” she said. “Fucker almost had me!”

  Blake nodded, looking at the hollow window frame.

  “They’re still out there,” Eve said, getting up from the bed. Blake went over to the closet and took the crossbow off the top shelf. It was already loaded.

  “How many?” Blake asked.

  “Three, but I only invited one of them in. Shot him a few times.”

  “Good girl. Now let’s finish them off.”

  The first, blood pouring down his neck and right shoulder flew to the window again, perhaps expecting more bullets as he hurtled through, but not arrows. He got about a foot through the window frame when Eve shot him three more times, in the chest. Blake’s arrow struck him in the forehead. The vampire’s head swayed back as if a massive fist had struck it, and he was attempting to roll with the punch. It shrieked. Eve did not precisely feel his pain, but hea
rd his agony in her head. Even though the wood had not pierced his heart there was still something about its properties that hurt considerably more than a bullet. Maybe it was that it came from something that had once been alive, much like the creature it had touched.

  It had backed itself into the window frame, clinging onto the sides, not retreating, but reeling from the onslaught. This gave Blake enough time to reload and fire again. This arrow struck home. The vampire clasped his hands around the arrow, shaking his head no. It wasn’t supposed to go down like this. He gave Blake one final look of contempt, and then fell backward out of sight through the open window. A faint thump was audible as it hit the grass below.

  “You sure you didn’t invite the others in?” Blake asked.

  “Positive. They tried to get through but couldn’t,” Eve said.

  “All right,” Blake hesitated, still waiting for a sign of them. After about a minute he added, “I don’t think they’ll be back.”

  Eve agreed.

  “That was probably their leader,” Blake said. “We’ll have to board up this window.”

  “What about…?” Eve began.

  Blake raised an eyebrow.

  “What about the cops?” Eve finished. “I mean, we just made a hell of a lot of noise, and there’s a dead body on the back lawn.”

  “Not to mention the downstairs neighbors, if they’re home,” Blake added.

  “Right, so what’s the cover story?”

  “Cover story?”

  “Yeah, yeah, what are we going to tell the cops?” Eve said, in a rushed voice.

  Blake considered. “Accident?”

  Eve couldn’t resist, she burst out laughing. “Yeah, he was accidentally shot six times, and was pierced by a couple of arrows… highly likely.”

  Blake was old, he knew it, and couldn’t think as quickly on his feet anymore. But Eve wasn’t sure what to do either.

  “So,” she said, “How many bullets in this gun?”

  “Chamber holds twelve rounds,” Blake responded. “Why?”

  Off in the distance they could already make out the sirens.

  “Just making sure we left a few for ourselves.”

  2

  Blake took the only recourse he knew.

  “Take the weapons,” he said.

  “What?”

  “Take all the weapons, run.”

  Eve hesitated.

  “Let’s go!” Blake shouted.

  “Okay, okay!” Eve said. She put her gun in the case. What seemed heavy before was now light as a feather- Vampire strength. Before she’d just been waking up; now she was fully awake, adrenaline pumping. Blake knew she would have no problems taking the weapons chest downstairs. If he had, however, it would not have only slowed them down, but rendered them practically statues. He held on to his crossbow, and strapped the quiver about his chest and shoulders.

  As they ran down the steps they were greeted by their downstairs neighbor Mrs. Chi, a middle aged Asian lady with a thick accent.

  “Mrs. Chi,” Blake said, “If the cops ask, we were never here.”

  She looked at him, unsure. From within the open doorway of the Chi’s apartment, Mr. Chi watched them, with a serious, perplexed look on his face.

  “What going on Mr. Brake?” Mrs. Chi marveled.

  Blake didn’t have time to make up a story. He said simply, “Vampire,” and kept running. They didn’t look back to watch her expression change.

  “What choo mean Vampi-ah? Have you gone clazy Mr. Brake?”

  “Maybe,” Mr. Blake whispered to himself. “Maybe.” They pushed out the door, and rushed to his car. Mrs. Chi made him think of the takeout he’d left upstairs, dropped somewhere to be replaced by a crossbow. Darn! He was hoping they hadn’t left evidence behind; besides the broken window and the dead guy; and he really hoped to

  eat after this was over.

  3

  “Where are we going?” Eve asked, as they sped through the streets.

  “Don’t know,” Blake said, “I’ll figure that out when we get there.”

  Eve was worried. The old man was breathing heavily, and wheezing.

  “Blake! You have to stop somewhere! Slow down! You’re going to give yourself a heart attack!”

  And then someone or something jumped onto the hood of the car and nearly did give him one. The pair of booted legs obscured his vision out the windshield, and he swerved from side to side. The vampire squatted down and looked into the car at Blake with a big toothy grin. Eve recognized him as one of the vamps back at the apartment. Quickly following suit, they felt the other one jump on to the roof. The impact caused two large indentations. Eve screamed. The vampire at the windshield made a fist and punched through the glass. They both reflexively shielded their faces as they were showered with the rubbery safety glass. Blake grabbed the crossbow at his side. “Eve, steer for me!”

  While the vampire was granted easier access to Blake via the broken windshield, Blake was also given an easier target. Even as it reached in to grab at Blake’s collar, Blake fired off the arrow already loaded in the crossbow. Much like Eve’s bullet earlier it took him in the throat. The vampire made a gargling noise as it flipped backward off the hood. The car thumped and rose in the air when it ran over the body as if it were cresting a hill. Eve struggled to maintain control of the car. The steering wheel seemed as if it wanted to take over the driving itself, and canted wildly to the left, veering into the opposing lane. She grabbed it and turned it forcefully in the other direction, righting it. Fortunately there were no other cars out on the road. It

  was after ten p.m. on a weekday and traffic was light.

  A certain weight was lifted, pressure released as the other vampire flew off the car’s roof, a sound of crimping fiberglass following suit. Blake hoped his fallen comrade had scared the other one off. This was not the case. Rather than come at them head on through the open windshield, he flew at them by way of the passenger side, clutching at the door handle on Eve’s side. Thankfully she’d had the common sense to lock the door. It was Eve they truly wanted after all, though surely Blake was a huge bonus, considering he’d been killing them off for three decades. Blake was already raising his weapon and cocking another arrow in the chamber. Eve smashed the glass herself this time, punching through it, surprising the creature at her side with the stinging spray. The side windows were not safety glass and stuck in the vampire’s face, drawing small welts of blood.

  “Do it!” Eve shouted, tilting her head back, and raising the lever at her side so her seat would fall back with her. Blake was able to take aim quickly. The vamp, still tending to its face, failed to notice the crossbow pointed in his direction, and didn’t look up from between his hands until it was too late; when he heard the whoosh of the projectile flying through the air.

  “Gaaaa!” it cried when the point pierced its chest. It didn’t look as if it were a direct hit; as the vampire tried to yank it out; but just under his heart. Realizing the car was speeding away; it paused in its attempt, and flew after them instead. Blake swerved the car to the right and struck him with the tail end of it. The vampire corkscrewed around like a guided missile losing its target, flying about aimlessly. Blake sideswiped him again, this time hitting him where the arrow had struck, pushing it deeper, and upward into its heart. The creature’s eyes bugged open, and it dropped to the ground like a swatted fly.

  “The other one’s still alive,” Eve said.

  “Yes,” Blake agreed, “Further back.”

  “I can feel him. Do you think he’ll come after us?”

  “Probably. They don’t give up easily.”

  “Even with two of his friends dead?”

  Blake turned to her briefly. “Especially with two of his friends dead.”

  They heard sirens close. Blake took a side street and veered into a dark alleyway between two buildings. Eve looked at him.

  “Until they pass,” Blake said.

  Eve nodded. “To think I could be serving food right n
ow.”

  “Forget your past life,” Blake replied angrily, “Your past life is over!”

  “I know Blake, jeeze! It was a joke.”

  He shook his head disconcertedly. “I’m sorry Eve. I didn’t mean to snap at you.”

  “Were you always this testy?”

  “No, only since I lost my wife and daughter.”

  “I’m sorry,” she said, sincerely, looking down. “You never told me what happened.”

  “Another time.”

  “Right, vamps to kill, cops to avoid.”

  “That seems like all I ever have time for anymore,” Blake said, somewhat sadly. Eve placed her smooth hand over his wrinkled one. He looked at her gratefully.

  “We’ll find the one that turned you,” Fulton Blake told her. “I promise. Just hold on a bit longer.”

  “I know you will,” Eve said.

  4

  The police were gone, but Blake inched the car out of the alley at a near crawl, lest they come back to take another look around.

  “So now what?” Eve said. “You’re the brains of this operation. Where to?”

  “I sincerely doubt that. We’ll have to check into a motel I think. Pay cash, use different names.”

  “Just like in the movies.”

  “Yes, just like that. We’ll park the car several blocks away, and

  walk so we can’t be identified by the vehicle.”

  “That’s good. What if they ask for ID?”

  “We don’t have any.”

  She raised an eyebrow. “Why not?”

  He pondered that. “Lost luggage; we’re new in town.”