"I'll help her," a voice came from behind Connie, startling her. It was Sheriff Franklin.
"Mary Curtis," the sheriff tossed the file on the table. It was pretty thick, complete with pictures paper clipped to the folder. Connie looked at one. It was definitely the woman she had been seeing.
"That's her, alright," Connie confirmed.
"That's her? What do you mean, that's her?" the sheriff asked, puzzled.
"She's been hanging around my house, sheriff"
"Oh really? Damn kids are getting to ya, huh? Look, Mary's dead. The case is closed."
Connie blinked. This was news to her. She had figured, of course, that Mary had died. She wouldn't be haunting Connie otherwise unless she had taken lessons about disappearing from David Copperfield, but she thought the last word was Mary is a missing person. "She's dead? I thought she was just missing."
Sheriff Franklin opened the file and perused it. "There are times, Mrs. Richardson, when you must assume things without direct proof. Her husband, Doug Curtis, was a pretty messed up person. He and his friends did all sorts of sick shit when they were little. We already looked into his history. We never found the body of Mary Curtis, but we're sure Doug killed her and stashed her somewhere. As for Doug, the guy killed himself. We found his body burned alive in a house. Burnt so badly the only thing we found was his wedding band." He chuckled. "The sick shit."
Connie flipped through the file and found a picture of Doug. He seemed normal looking to her. "So you gave up looking for Mary?"
"Yeah... a healthy person like her just doesn't disappear. Last we heard from both of them was that they had gone out of town together. He stashed her well, and probably not in this state."
"How about his friends?"
"No one knew any of 'em, just that he had 'em. Those that we did talk to that knew him as a kid knew he had some dangerous friends, but no names were ever given. For all I know, they were in his head. I tell you, he was one sick puppy."
Connie frowned. "I think Mary is haunting my house."
To this, the sheriff laughed. "There ain't no such thing, Mrs. Richardson. You look awful, probably from lack of sleep. Am I right?"
"Yeah."
"There ya go! Hallucinations. It'll do that to ya, you need to get sleep."
Connie fumbled. This wasn't helping. "Then how did I recognize the picture? How did I know that was Mary?"
The sheriff shrugged. "Your mind just filled in the blanks for ya. I've seen it happen. A woman gets attacked, you show them a picture of some random guy and its always 'That's the guy!' until you tell 'em it's a picture of Elvis. I've seen it happen!"
Connie shook her head. She had a throbbing headache now.
The sheriff detected this. He handed her two aspirins. "Go home, Connie. Get some sleep."
Connie was reluctant to enter her house, but she did anyway. She prepared herself for the worst. However, everything seemed in order. Everything was how she left it.
She thought that, until she entered her room. She instantly noticed some papers had been scattered all over her desk. She yelped, but then saw the window was open. The wind must have blown the papers over. She thought back for whether or how she had opened the window, but couldn't remember.
She closed the window and began sorting through her papers. She ran across the letter Don had gotten about selling the farm. She looked over it quickly and put it in the stack. She lifted the papers to put them in a cabinet but before she could the top sheet floated off. Connie picked it up... it was the letter. Connie sighed. It made her think of how much she missed Don. Then, suddenly she realized she was looking at the farm's phone number printed right on the letter!
She remembered that Jeff had claimed that there were no phones on the farm./ Maybe it was disconnected, she thought. She picked up the phone and tried anyway.
There was no answer, but there was no operator to tell her the phone had been disconnected either. That's funny, she thought. It was getting late and she obviously needed her sleep so she decided to try again in the morning.
Tonight would be the night that she would finally get some sleep, she thought. But somewhere in the back of her mind she knew she was kidding herself.
* * *
Chapter 13
That night, Connie dreamed. She was in her living room, at least she thought it was. It was furnished differently for some reason. She was reading a book, as she usually did, but she couldn't understand the writing. Suddenly, she hears the kitchen floorboards creak.
Before she could get up to investigate a man jumps into the living room from the kitchen hallway wielding a knife. Connie couldn't see his face but didn't wait around to get a better look either. She jumped up and ran upstairs.
She was running up the stairs for what seemed like hours. The stairs seemed to go on forever and disappeared into eternity. She was tired but she could not rest, for the man with a knife was still chasing her. Finally she got to the top of the stairs and ran down the hall.
She ran down what looked like her hallway, only it too seemed endless. She tried a door... it was locked. The man was almost upon her so she continued to run.
She was almost about to pass out from running when she reached the end of the hallway. There was a single door at the end of the hall, but it too was locked. Then she turned around to face her assailant.
It was Doug Curtis. He looked exactly like his picture, only he looked at her with huge, wild eyes. She was so frightened she could not even scream. Suddenly the door behind her swung open and someone pulled her inside to safety.
It was Don, and they were in their bedroom. "Oh thank God you're here, Don! You saved me!" Connie shouted with delight. Don only stared at her, expressionless. "Don?"
Connie reached out and touched his face... it was cold! In amazement, Connie watched as her husband's face began to change... to decay. It melted off until there was only a skull left. Connie backed away, directly into the bed. She fell on her back and suddenly realized she was under the covers. She looked up and Mary Curtis was standing over her.
Then, Connie realized she was no longer dreaming. The ghost of Mary sighed and turned around to leave and once again vanished.
Connie screamed louder than she ever had in her life.
* * *
Chapter 14
August 21, 1998
Connie was frantic. She knew what she saw was not a delusion. And she knew she could not stay in that house a moment longer. Screaming, she flew out of the room, knocking over anything that was in her path. She bothered not with her shoes and clothes, she knew she had to be in her car... and now!
Once in her car, she tore out of her driveway and drove toward the town, going faster than she ever had before. She needed a place to regroup... a place that had a phone. She drove to the closest hotel.
Connie did not sleep there, nor did she have the desire to. Instead, she alternated between calling the farm and the hotel room where Jeff was staying. There was no answer at either place. Connie now knew the message she was supposed to receive - Donald was in danger.
All Connie could think about was the dream. She had almost forgotten about the fact that she woke up looking into the eyes of a dead woman. All she could think about was Donald's face melting off. The skull. The sign that Donald was to die, and Doug was to be his killer.
Throughout the night, Connie fanatically called the farm and the hotel room. She never received an answer. She finally decided to call the police in the town nearest to Don's family farm.
"Yes, I'm concerned with the safety of my husband who is staying up there at his father's farm. Could you send someone to go check on him?"
"Certainly, ma'am... umm... is there a reason to be concerned, ma'am?" The officer asked on the other end.
Connie thought a bit before answering. "Yes, he won't answer any calls... and I just have a bad feeling, that's all."
The officer understood. "That's a good enough reason for me! Where do I send the men, and where can you be reached?"
&n
bsp; Connie told him the farm's address and gave them the number of the local police to call with any information. She had some unfinished business there anyway.
"Okay, Connie... could you care to repeat that?" Sheriff Franklin was somewhat bewildered at Connie's accusations.
Connie was beginning to get very impatient. She had not had a decent night's sleep in days. "My husband... is going to be killed... by Doug Curtis."
The sheriff leaned closer to Connie. "Douglas Curtis... is... dead. Go... home."
"Are you crazy?! Go home?!"
"No, Connie... you're the one talking the crazy talk here, not me. Do you honestly think that Doug Curtis is going to come back from the grave to kill your husband?"
"Probably." Connie sat back. "After all, his dead wife seems to frequent my house... why not?"
The sheriff lowered his voice. "Listen, Connie... you need sleep. Seriously, your mind is killing you here. Now, we have a vacant office with a couch. You can sleep there for the time being. Now... will you sleep there, or do we have to sedate you?"
That comment sent her off. She yelled every obscenity she knew at him, calling him the murderer of her husband.
Ten minutes later, she was put in the vacant office, sedated.
* * *
Chapter 15
Once again, Connie dreamed. For once, the dream wasn't taking place in her home. Instead it was taking place in the park. There was a crowd gathered around a stage. Connie strained to see what was on the stage. Then, Connie realized they were actually gathered around a gallows. They were at a public hanging.
Connie could see three suspects and two executioners. The suspects were lined up in a row, they had not yet been killed. The outer two had black hoods on, so Connie could not identify them. The middle suspect was Mary. She was weeping.
All of the sudden, the first suspect dropped. The crowd cheered. Connie gasped. The first person killed... could it have been Doug? Mary was next in line and by the look on her face, she knew it. She called out to Connie. "Connie! You're the only one who can stop this! Help!" Connie could not reply... nor could she move. She wanted to save Mary, but she couldn't. One of the executioners walked over to put his hand on Mary's head as if he were petting her. The other walked over to the third suspect. Suddenly, Connie felt a hand placed on her head as well.
But now she was seeing the scene from a different perspective. She was now the third victim! She turned her head slightly towards Mary. "I'm too late, I guess... I'm sorry..."
But Mary smiled through her tears. "No... you're talking to me... so there is still time!"
Connie leapt up from the couch. She knew what she had to do. She had to go back home, and now.
* * *
Chapter 16
Being the small police station that it was, the only problem Connie had with slipping out behind their backs was her legs. They felt like jelly. Whatever they gave her to quiet her down had apparently not given up yet. Still, she had to get home.
Driving was her next obstacle. It was nighttime now, and all she saw on the road were blurs of light. She shook her head. She was not about to let this stop her. She drove on, slowly and carefully. After awhile, she was finally back home.
As soon as she got out of her car she noticed curtains open in the living room window. Quickly, they closed. For once, she was not surprised. She knew something was waiting for her... maybe it was Mary, maybe not. She had a feeling she knew what it was, and she did not like it one bit. But she knew she had to confront it.
She rushed to the door, and opened it... not even checking to see if it was locked. She knew it wasn't. She had locked the door when she left, of course... but she knew it wasn't going to be locked now.
"Mary! Mary! I'm here!" She called out into the house. No one answered. Connie looked around, and there was nothing out of place. "Mary! Are you here? Please answer me!"
Connie started her way upstairs when she heard a noise. It was a creaking noise, coming from the living room. That's more like it, Connie thought. She slowly crept into the living room. Her recliner was slowly rocking, making the creaking sound. She took a few steps toward it and suddenly was startled by a new sound.
This sound was a thud, coming from the coffee table. The coffee table moved slightly with the sound. It was as if someone had hit something against it causing it to move. Connie gasped. She didn't stay by the chair, though. She knew where to go now. She turned and walked towards the kitchen.
She almost made it out of the living room before an invisible force, almost feeling like a human hand, pushed her off her feet. She tumbled to the floor and then heard footsteps. The footsteps were leaving the living room, and walking down the hall to the kitchen! Connie stood up to once again make her way towards the kitchen and then heard another sound. This sound was a loud sound... Connie couldn't quite place it. She ran out into the hall.
Connie stopped and stared in amazement as every single drawer in her kitchen opened before her eyes, throwing their contents onto the floor. She walked towards the kitchen slowly, her mouth wide open. This wasn't what she was expecting at all. What was Mary trying to tell her? Then Connie noticed her feet were in something wet. She looked down.
As if to answer her questions, she saw a pool of blood... and that pool evaporated before her very eyes. Left behind was a stain, in the shape of the word "Help!" Connie backed away from the kitchen. She could barely stand. She was frightened and very confused. Then she heard another sound.
This sound also came from the living room. It was a loud thumping noise. She ran to the living room, only to find the coffee table bouncing up and down. With everything going on at once, Connie didn't know what to make of it. Why was Mary doing this? Was she trying to frighten Connie out of her house? Was she trying to tell Connie something? Warn her perhaps? All of the sudden, all sounds stopped.
Connie was trembling in fear. "LEAVE ME ALONE!!!!!!" She cried and backed towards the hallway. Then, something grabbed her from behind. This time, however, not by an invisible force... but by a man.
* * *
Chapter 17
"Hello pumpkin." The voice was all too familiar to Connie. It was Donald! Only this time, Connie wasn't very happy to see him. She turned to face him. He looked his normal self, except his eyes had a new menacing glare. That, and he was pointing a gun at her.
"You killed the people who use to live here, didn't you?" Connie was ready to get to the bottom of all of this. "Or did you just kill Mary?" She squinted her eyes. She couldn't see very well, but she could see well enough to know she was in danger.
"I see you've been doing you're homework, hon." Don chuckled. "No, I didn't kill Mary... her husband did. You know... Jeff?"
Connie blinked. "His name was Doug, I checked."
"Ahh, so everyone thinks." Donald was obviously enjoying this. "But I know my own brother... his name is Jeff, not Douglas."
His confusing way of speaking mixed with the effects of the tranquilizer was confusing Connie to no end. "So who the fuck was Douglas?"
"A friend of ours. Wanted to join our little club." Donald's voice was kept slow and calm. "So we let him. Of course, he didn't know that he was to play the part of the decoy." He shrugged, and then put on a big, toothy grin. "Poor boy couldn't stand the heat."
Connie now understood perfectly. That's why they could identify the body in the burnt old house as Douglas Curtis... because it actually was! Only Mary's husband wasn't Douglas, but Jeff... Donald's brother. What Connie couldn't figure out was why Mary had made her come here, only to be killed by her own husband. Was Mary trying to warn her against going home? Is that why everything started banging around when she entered the house?
"Well, Connie... enough chit chat. Shall I shoot you in the head and kill you instantly? Or should I just let you bleed to death? This is so fun, don't you think?"
Connie panicked. If she could only distract him, she could get away... but how? Suddenly, as to answer her prayers, the coffee table leaped into the air an
d crashed into the floor, shattering it's glass surface.
"What the--?" Donald stared at the table in amazement.
Connie jumped at the opportunity. She grabbed the nearest lamp and smashed it over his head.
* * *
Chapter 18
Donald fell to the floor holding his bleeding head. Unfortunately the blow failed to render him unconscious. Connie ran to the kitchen, seeking out something to defend herself with.
The contents of all the drawers were scattered about the kitchen floor. Connie got on her hands and knees to sort through it, looking for her vegetable knife. She found it and stood to face Donald who was now in the kitchen doorway, pointing his gun at her.
"What're you gonna do to me with that dull thing? Scratch me? Sorry Connie, you lose!" He squeezed the trigger. Connie winced but heard no gunshot. "What the--how the hell did the safety engage?!" Donald took his eyes from Connie to look at the gun.
Connie took the chance to run by him and out of the kitchen, but not fast enough. Donald grabbed her and pulled her close to him. "Nice try, bitch. This time the safety is off." He readied his finger on the trigger, pointing the gun at her head.
At that moment, a steak knife that was in the pile of silverware became animated, leaping up and slicing Donald in the arm. He threw Connie to the ground as he grabbed his wounded arm.
"Fuuuck... what the hell are you, a witch?!?" he uttered in pain.
Connie had been cut pretty badly herself, for she had fallen on a pile of forks and knives. "Something like that," she responded as she plunged her vegetable knife into his leg, causing him to scream in pain... and drop his gun.
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