No Happily Ever After (The Fairytale Diaries #1)

by Amanda Gatton

That particular night, however, her parents told her they had other plans and that Eric would have to wait until the following night to visit, which was New Year's Eve. Stella was excited to be allowed to spend the evening celebrating with Eric, difficult though times may be. So she called Eric back and made plans.

  ***

  "That girl, Jennifer Tide," Eric told Stella on the phone the next day. "I think she's got a crush on me."

  Stella chuckled. "Yes, she does. It's pretty obvious, Eric."

  Eric sighed. "Well it's kind of annoying. She's so… Chipper."

  "Aw, well, she's a sweetheart. Just be nice. Try not to hurt her feelings."

  "It doesn't make you mad?" he asked.

  She laughed again. "Of course not, Eric. Goodness."

  The conversation lulled for a few seconds before he continued. "So you still want me to come over tonight, right?"

  "MmmHmm," she agreed. "I have to wait until Mom and Dad come home of course. But I'll call you back as soon as they do, OK?"

  "Sure, Stella. Can't wait," he said shyly.

  "Me either."

  Chapter 20

  The hours of the afternoon dragged by. Stella decided that she would sneak out for a couple hours to the Faraway Public Library. Her parents would kill her if they knew she went somewhere on her own without their permission, particularly because she would have to walk. And considering the current state of Faraway, they would forbid it, if she asked them. However, for the same reason, Stella felt antsy to be alone and desperately wanted to be around people. She would have to walk about two miles in the snow, as her home was just outside of town. But, it was all worth it to get out of the quiet abode. She made it there and back with time to spare.

  Finally it was time for her parents to arrive home from their workplaces. The sun sunk steadily into a pleasantly purpling sky, beyond the forest that was the Rampion family's back yard. She sat quietly at the kitchen window watching the sunset, expecting to hear her parents pulling into the garage any minute.

  But another half hour went by and they did not arrive.

  Stella checked her cell phone thinking she must have missed a call. But, her call log was clear. She frowned, continuing to stare out the window. She thought back trying to recall any time in her entire life when her parents hadn't turned up where they'd said they would.

  When another fifteen minutes passed, her heart began to pound. A sick feeling crept up inside her. She called Eric.

  "Hello?" Eric said picking up her call.

  "Hey… Uh, my parents haven't come home," Stella informed. Night had fallen completely by then, and the kitchen window only revealed shadows on the sparkling snow.

  "Hmmm," Eric said, concerned. He was well familiar with the uber reliability of Mr. and Mrs. Rampion. Maybe at some other time, it wouldn't be quite so bothersome. Except for, well, the serial killer on the loose. "Have you tried calling them?"

  She sighed. "Of course, both their cell phones are going straight to voicemail."

  "Well what about their work places?"

  She glanced at the clock on the stove. Seven p.m. "Both their offices would be closed by now. There won't be anyone there."

  "OK, Stell, I'm gonna head on over. I'll be right there."

  "Eric…" she worried. "I will get in so much trouble if you come over without them home."

  "Honestly, I'm worried. You know, with… Everything going on. I don't think they'll mind me coming over there to look after you until we find them."

  Suddenly it occurred to her, Aspen's parents had been killed and then Aspen disappeared. And Kimberly's grandmother killed, directly followed by her disappearance. Hysteria began to bubble up inside her.

  "OK," she relented. "Please hurry."

  "I'll be there in ten minutes, Stell. Keep trying their phones, and if you feel like you need to, call the police."

  "OK," she said again, her voice barely above a whisper.

  ***

  In no time, Eric was seated with Stella at her kitchen table. They'd tried both her parents and their workplaces again. Eric sighed dejectedly. "We better call the police, Stella," he said.

  Just then, there came a knock on the front door. Stella jumped up.

  "Wait!" Eric exclaimed, also rising. "Maybe you shouldn't answer that!"

  Eric towered over her, muscular, fit and darkly handsome. She'd never been afraid of anything in his presence before. But she saw the fear on his face, and her alarm mounted. "What do we do?" she asked, struggling to not break down.

  "I don't know," he whispered.

  The knock came again. They stood absolutely still, afraid to even breathe. Then, her text alert went off and nearly scared them both to death. She snatched the phone from the table. She saw the text was from Mrs. Bar.

  "Hey, I'm at your front door honey, let me in."

  Relief made Stella weak.

  "Oh gosh," she said. "It's just Mrs. Bar. She probably came to tell me where mom and dad are! I bet she knows!"

  Without a second thought, Stella and Eric rushed to let their guidance counselor inside.

  ***

  "I heard from your mom," Mrs. Bar said as she blustered inside out of the cold.

  Stella shivered and shut the door behind Mrs. Bar. "You did?" she asked eagerly, feeling intensely relieved.

  Mrs. Bar smiled at Stella and then Eric. "Yes, not to worry, dear. Your father surprised her with a dinner out of town. She said she tried to call you earlier but you didn't answer and that they wouldn't have service where they were heading so if I could please come over and hang out with you. She said Eric would be coming over."

  Stella put her hand over her racing heart. "Oh thank goodness," she gushed. "I was freaking out."

  "Aw, I'm sorry, honey. I should've gotten here sooner."

  "It's OK, I'm just glad you're here now," Stella said, giving Mrs. Bar a hug.

  ***

  Soon, Stella and Eric sat on the living room couch watching a movie. Mrs. Bar busied herself in the kitchen making snacks. She brought her fare into the living room where they all enjoyed the movie, junk food, and lively banter. The hour grew later, and Stella began to wonder again about her folks.

  "Hey, when did they say they'd be home, Mrs. Bar?" Stella asked.

  "Not sure really," she replied. "It is New Year's Eve, could be late."

  "Hmmmm," Stella thought out loud. "So weird. This is all just so unlike them." She made a move to stand. "I'm gonna grab my phone and try and call them again. Or see if they called. You said they tried me earlier, but I never got a missed call. I hope I'm not having service issues."

  "Oh, Stella," Mrs. Bar said pithily. "Why don't you let them alone for one evening?" She gave Stella a tight lipped smile.

  Stella pondered her mother's friend for a brief second. She was probably right. Maybe a side effect of being terribly over protective parents was creating a terribly over protective child when the tables turned. Except, that sense of dread was creeping up in her again.

  "Um, OK," Stella said, standing up all the same. "Well, I'm cold though. I'm just going to run upstairs for a sec and get a hoodie."

  Mrs. Bar gave her a long, serious look, and Stella stood there momentarily locked in the woman's dark eyes.

  What is going on here? Stella thought.

  Then, she turned and left the room.

  Chapter 21

  Stella mounted the stairs and had to force her feet to move. The dim sound of the TV from the other room played at her back. But ahead of her, there was only a deathly silence. She peered up the stairway into the darkness above. She wanted to turn back, but the same frightened feeling that made her anxious, also propelled her forward.

  Halfway up the stairs, she noticed a smell.

  In a way, the smell was almost sweet. But too sweet. So sweet that it turned her stomach. Additionally, under the veil of the sweetness were other smells. A metallic smell and another smell. Like pure unadulterated filth. The three smells were each so strong, they seemed to dance together like l
iving creatures. She blanched, and clapped her hand over her mouth and nose. Each step she took toward the upstairs made the smell grow stronger.

  Tears welled in her eyes. Something was definitely wrong. The smell obviously came from inside the house; and nothing like that should ever, ever be inside any place where living things dwelled. It upset her on a deep level that her conscious mind refused to acknowledge.

  At the top of the stairs, Stella moved past her own bedroom door without as much as a glance. She'd lost all interest in grabbing a hoodie. Instead she kept drifting further into the reeking. At the very end of the hall she came to a window. Stella stood for a moment looking out into the rolling black expanse of starlit sky. She glanced down at the sparkling snow. Her parents were the sort who left the Christmas lights lit until February. She saw the reflections of red twinkling lights on the snow down below and the thought crossed her mind that it looked like blood.

  Stella took a deep breath and turned to the right, where she took hold of her parents' bedroom doorknob. With trembling hand she turned the knob and pushed the door open.

  And there they were, their bodies carelessly discarded in a haphazard pile on the floor at the end of the bed. Her father was on the bottom, face down in a pool of blood that must have had a ten foot circumference. Her mother was splayed atop him, on her back. Her eyes bulged and the whites had turned brown. Her tongue lulled out, swollen and blue. And, her throat was slashed so deeply that her head was only attached by a sliver of skin.

  Stella began to scream.

  ***

  Madre Bar had crept up behind Stella. When she turned to blast out of the room, she shoved right past Madre without even seeing her. Everything moved incredibly quickly. She saw Eric burst up the stairs and all her mind could register was to run to him.

  But her incredibly long braid lashed behind her, and Madre Bar grabbed it, jerking Stella to a halt.

  Stella seemed not to even notice the woman yanking on her hair. And poor Eric had no clue what was going on. But he'd heard Stella's blood curdling scream, and even in the shadowy darkness, he could see the malevolent look on Madre Bar's face. He fumbled for his pocket knife even as he ran for Stella, and without pause, he raised it high in the air and then sliced it through Stella's braid, freeing her from Mrs. Bar's grip.

  "Run!" he yelled.

  She stopped for only a second to look at Eric as he squared off with Mrs. Bar then proceeded for the stairs. But halfway down, she heard the sound of glass breaking and Eric yelling.

  Shaking violently, Stella came to an instant standstill. "Eric?" she called weakly.

  "I'm afraid you've gone and gotten him killed, Stella," Mrs. Bar called in some sort of odd tone Stella had never heard her use.

  Tears streamed down her face. She knew she should run. Continue down the stairs, out the front door, and just run until she could find another person. But, she couldn't bring herself to leave Eric. She had to know what happened.

  She turned slowly and went back up to the hallway.

  Mrs. Bar stood at the broken hallway window that overlooked the backyard. Stella inched forward until she stood shoulder to shoulder with the woman looking down.

  Beneath the window on the ground, there was a thorny rose bush. Even from her perch, Stella could see Eric's eye balls impaled on two sharp branches. Remarkably, he was alive. He held one hand over his face, blood gushing out around it. He mewled as would a wounded animal and he stumbled toward the trees.

  Stella opened her mouth to scream at him not to move, she was coming. But before she let out one peep, she felt cold steel against the base of her skull.

  "Don't," said Madre Bar.

  She gasped and her back straightened rigidly. Slowly, she turned her head to look at Mrs. Bar.

  "He'll crawl off into the woods, pass out, freeze to death and die, Stella. It'll all go very quickly so just don't worry about it. We're going to go get a bucket of hot water, go out, and clean up his bloody mess, and within a couple hours, the snow will cover the spot back up and all will be well!" she explained cheerily, as though it all made total sense.

  Stella wept inconsolably, but at the same time attempted to remain calm. "And then what?" she whispered.

  "If you're a good girl, I'll tuck you into my car and take you home. If you're a bad girl, I'll shoot you in the head."

  Mrs. Bar prompted Stella with the gun down the stairs and into the kitchen where they filled a bucket of water. They got on their coats and took the bucket outside where Mrs. Bar directed her to get rid of Eric's blood. Stella strained to listen for him, and to peer into the trees. He was gone, and she couldn't hear a sound.

  She prayed he'd somehow made it to safety.

  Mrs. Bar plucked Eric's impaled eyeballs from the bush, and tucked them into her pocket. Stella cringed and her tears began all over again. She was brutally shoved toward Mrs. Bar's car. When they got to it, Mrs. Bar opened the back door. Just as Stella leaned over to get inside, Mrs. Bar brought the butt of her pistol down on her temple, and Stella collapsed on the back seat.

  "Sorry dear," Mrs. Bar murmured. "Can't have you trying anything funny."

  Chapter 22

  "What do you think they intend to do with us?"

  A wavering female voice roused Stella. She massaged her throbbing temples and struggled to sit up. To her complete amazement, she found herself in a cell with Ella Cinder and Nicholas Monarch. Directly across from where she pulled herself up to lean against a filthy stone wall, was a cell containing Cailyn, Aspen, and Kimberly. A situation she'd thought couldn't possibly get worse, had just worsened.

  After all, being killed by a psycho killer was certainly terrible. But being kept alive by one for an unknown reason was almost certainly worse.

  "What do you think?" said Kimberly Crimson bitterly; responding to the question Cailyn Pure had just posed. "They will torture us all, until we die from it!"

  "We must find an escape!" Cailyn insisted, pacing about the cell. "They are far outnumbered. We can make a plan, and overpower them!"

  Stella began to blubber again. Ella and Nicholas rushed to flank her, and each encircle her with one arm.

  "Shhhh," Ella cooed. "I know, I know. It's terribly scary when you first wake up.

  Stella peered into Ella's face to find it mutilated by a network of ugly red, jagged cuts. She couldn't bring herself to ask Ella what had happened. The knowledge of it might bring her to an official end of her sanity.

  Her other classmates pressed against their cell bars to watch her.

  "Does… Does anyone know if my boyfriend Eric Prince is here?" Stella asked. "Please tell me that he's here!"

  The mention of Eric made Nicholas jerk back. He paced angrily around the cell and then drew back and punched the wall.

  "Wh-what's the matter with him?" Stella exclaimed.

  Ella frowned as she stared into Stella's face.

  "Dear, did Eric have some sort of accident or something?" Cailyn asked gently.

  Stella moaned. "Yes, he… He… Hurt his eyes in a fall."

  All the prisoners collectively cried out at the epiphany.

  "What!?" Stella asked, growing hysterical. "What is it?"

  After a long pause, Cailyn spoke as Ella took Stella's hand and squeezed it tightly. "While you were sleeping, they… They came and tied Nicholas to that spinning wheel thing over there," Cailyn explained, gesturing her head toward one of the torture devices outside the cell. "We didn't know whose they were but… They made Nicholas eat a set of eyes…"

  Stella's shrieking cries brought every single one of them to tears.

  Part VII

  Ugly

  Chapter 23

  The various members of Carnaval de le Nuit troop had differing ways of spending their down time. They worked out, caring for their hard bodies, maintaining their peak physical conditions. They shopped; visiting the local vendors in whatever town or burg where they roosted. They practiced their acts, to keep their performance ever mesmerizing for the crowds they'
d surely draw. And often most, the performers preened their proverbial peacock feathers.

  For Joshua Cross, the preferred method of blowing off steam had recently become finding a local library, borrowing a computer, and observing the town of Faraway from afar.

  His former home, the town in which he'd been born and raised, was making national headlines. Perhaps even international. The disappearances and murders occurring in Faraway had sparked speculation all over the web, even though it appeared the cases had yet to particularly interest the FBI. There were newspaper articles galore for him to pour over. Additionally, a surprising number of his former high school counterparts had their own tattle tale blogs where virtual tongues wagged, from right inside the city limits. So, he'd just read about Zoe Locke's arrest, and her claims that nobody believed.

  Josh leaned back in the rolling chair, his arms folded across his chest, staring at the radiating computer screen. The blog post he was staring at was in an atrocious neon purple font against a black background and had given him a headache, yet he read it over and over. So, accusations were being made about the Bar family and nobody believed them? Kids were disappearing and nobody was even going to investigate the claims? Typical, Josh thought. Typical oblivion from Faraway, the land of clueless authorities. He couldn't help but wonder if the Faraway police even cared… If they were doing anything at all to find the missing teenagers, or stop the abductions.

  He shook his head slowly as he pondered the blog post. It was probably too late anyway. They were most likely already dead.

  ***

  Josh heard the story of his birth at least a hundred times; his older siblings loved to tell it.

  He was somewhere in the middle of eight total children, born to a family living on a farm on the remote corner of the county outside Faraway. Of all the handsome, well mannered, intelligent children in the family, Josh was the odd man out; the ugly duckling. His mother had gone into labor in the middle of a snowy night, and it had happened so fast, there'd been no time to get to the hospital. She'd given birth to him right there at home as a blizzard raged outside. Her labor had been quick, but brutal and she'd nearly died. All for a squalling, shrieking, ugly infant.