by Matt A Byron
She unthinkingly took a step back as the man stepped out of the closet. Not any man, a familiar one. The smile, the shaven head, the dark, deathly eyes sent flashes in her mind of the day of the shooting, the same eyes looked upon her now as they did that day.
“Tell your friend to come out, let’s have a party.”
She met his eyes as they narrowed on her.
“I’m not playing around, your friend in the hall.”
Was he able to see her sister she thought as she looked towards the hall and she saw her sister standing in the doorway? He couldn’t see her, but he probably heard her talking out loud to her sister. Perhaps she could use that to her advantage.
“My friend ran to call the police. So you better just go, they will be here any minute now.”
He laughed as he lowered the barrel of the shotgun. Keeping one hand on the gun, he rubbed his chin with his other before motioning her towards the bed. She looked at the bed and then back at him as a flurry of anger was swelling up inside of her.
“Get over there,” he said while using his gun to point towards the bed.
She moved slowly and stood at the foot of the bed.
“Sit!”
His voice was rough, tired, and scratchy.
“What do you want from me?” she asked as she sat on the edge of the bed.
Keeping his eyes on her, he took a step towards her and then kicked a large drawer off of Trevor.
“M, don’t do anything stupid, okay I will think of something,” Melissa said from the door, but the man paid no attention.
When she looked toward the door, he quickly glanced over and then back at her.
“Is someone there?” Then towards the door, he shouted, “If you are out there, people are going to die unless you get your ass in here.”
“No one’s there.”
“Are you fucking with me? Why do you keep looking over there? Oh, you’re thinking of jumping up and running out of here. Ah, sweet little thing, I would blow a chunk out of your back before you made it down the hall.”
He smiled revealed his yellowed teeth. It reminded her of the smile the thing inside Renna had given her before she left, the smugness, the reassurance, the arrogance.
Trying not to look down at Trevor, she focused her gaze on the man; the barrel was pointed at the ground a few feet from Trevor’s head.
“What do you want you sick son of a bitch!”
“I love your spirit sweet thang, I do have to say I have never shot the same person twice, so this will be a first. You saw me, you are the only witness, Jesus you are cute but you ain’t too bright.”
Melissa moved around the room and swiped at the shotgun only to see her hand move through it. She moved behind the man and started punching him but the blows landed harmlessly through him.
He continued, “When I saw you on the news, and they said they were outside your house, well damn I thought, it was a sign. A town this size wasn’t too hard to find your house. Hell, the news damn near drew me a map to it.”
“The police know who you are; it’s only a matter of time before they catch you. There is a video showing the shooting.” She said although she didn’t really know for sure and the police had never volunteered any aspects of their investigation with her.
Kicking another drawer off Trevor as it banged off the far wall with a deep thud, he rested his foot on Trevor’s back. As his foot seemed to press down, Trevor moaned underneath.
“Stop it!”
“The police don’t have jack. That market ain’t got no cameras. Jesus woman, you know a boy got locked up in that market, his daddy just left him, and somehow the piss ant shit bag who owned the place never saw him when he closed the store,” he paused as he wiped the spittle from his mouth then continued, “the boy got hungry being in there all night and found something to eat. A giant gumball, like one of those you get in those coin slot things, well this one was on a bottom shelf, and he ripped open the bag, shoved it in his mouth and choked to death. No camera in the store, no one took the blame. The boy died, and the owner just went along his day as nothing ever happened.”
She knew the boy he spoke of was the same one she saw the day of the shooting. She remained silent and waited for him to continue.
“The owner said the boy must have snuck in, but the boy’s father, the dirtbag that he was, forgot about him because he was high as hell. So I told my brother just before I shot him that I wished him a good journey to hell and I would see him there soon.”
Her fear was giving way to anger. She watched the man as he sneered more than smiled at the retelling of his story as if he was reliving the moment of shooting his brother. She was breathing through her mouth, blowing hard. Her fist clenched tightly, her nails digging into the palms of her hands.
“Did I say something to piss you off? I’m done with this shit.”
He moved the barrel of the gun over Trevor’s back. He grasped it in both hands, the butt of the gun resting against his shoulders as he seemed to be taking aim.
She didn’t remember moving from the bed, but she was on her feet only a few feet from the man and the words wouldn’t stop coming out. She was yelling at him, he turned around stunned by her sudden charge.
“You killed my sister! Why, because you were upset. You were unhappy. You have a fucked up family so you destroy others.”
He cocked his head sideways, keeping the barrel of the gun trained on Trevor. His face flush red as his eyes burned through her. Small wrinkles formed at the corners of his eyes and his lips parted slightly.
“The little boy, I saw him, and he was sad. He was miserable, crying, and I don’t know why if he had a family like you, he is better off dead.”
In an instant the man was on her, he swung the butt of his gun around and struck her hard in the left temple with such force that it knocked her backward onto the bed and then off the side until she landed face first on the floor. The side of her head slammed hard against the wall. Pain ignited in her abdomen, throbbing jolts of pain shot behind her eyes.
She remained motionless for a few moments and then felt herself being lifted up, pulled by her hair. The fire in her gut and the pulsating currents of pain in her head made her nauseous, dizzy, and disoriented.
She landed on the bed, her feet hanging off the side and then a second or two later he jumped on top of her, straddling her. His weight was pressing down on her, she couldn’t breathe, and the room was getting darker. She tilted her head to the side, and he gripped her under the chin and forced her to face him. She looked at him and then tried to move her head away, but he kept his grip firm, fingers pinching into her skin.
He muttered something, but the words weren’t clear, spittle sprayed her face as he continued to rant. Through all the commotion and yelling she was able to determine one thing, he no longer was holding the gun.
“Bitch, I am going to gut you like a pig. You didn’t know my nephew, you’ve never seen him, you’re just trying to get into my head.”
She choked, gagged, fought to swallow some air as the force of his body on top of her was crushing her stomach. He pressed his fingers harder against her chin, feeling that at any moment her chin was going to crumble beneath his grasp. Tears spilled from her eyes, and she took small, shallow breaths.
He released his grip from her chin, but he remained atop of her, his brown eyes piercing down at her.
“You don’t know my family, you don’t know me. You stupid bitch, you have anything to say before I kill you like I killed your sister.”
His words were muffled; the room stopped moving, and she struggled for air. Her mouth was dry and when she spoke she could hear the unsteadiness in her voice. Her words were barely louder than a whisper. As she spoke, he strained to hear her, he leaned closer, his rank breath blowing against her check.
“Red shirt, stained, brown shorts, brown hair maybe about ten years old. Big brown eyes. He was in the store that day, he knows what you a
re.”
He leaned back, his eyes widened. He looked at her for a moment or two without saying a word. He shook his head, looked away from her.
“You don’t know who I am; you don’t know what I can do,” she said as her voice grew a little louder.
“M, stop it! I can’t stop him, you’re only making it worse,” she heard Melissa’s voice from somewhere in the room.
He leaned closer, his mouth was a few inches away from hers, she tried to move her head, but he grabbed her chin again. His fingernails dug in deep, enough to puncture the skin as slivers of blood rushed to the surface and trickled down her throat.
“Yea, I know who you are, I saw you on the news. You’re one of those crazies, nothing but a fake. Don’t sit here and try to mess with me, it ain’t gonna work.”
She struggled beneath his grip; his eyes bore down on her with intense hatred. If looks could kill, she would have been dead the moment he laid eyes on her. He released her chin, and she turned her head to the side although he remained straddled on top of her.
Her hands were pinned beneath his legs. She remained still afraid any movement might ignite his rage once more. Her sister appeared at the side of the bed, tears streaming down her face. So many thoughts ran through her mind. How could her sister be crying? Do spirits feel emotion? Why is it so cold in here?
The last question troubled her more than any other one because it wasn’t cold a few moments ago and now it felt frigid. It wasn’t just her as the man shivered too and cursed under his breath about the damn effing cold. When she turned to look at him, she saw that he was looking in the other direction.
She let out a deep breath which caused him to focus his attention back to her.
“Enough with this, we need to end this,” he grunted through clenched teeth as he began to move off her.
She was relieved when his weight lifted from her but also feared what would happen next. She looked over at her sister who was no longer looking at her but seemed focused on another part of the room. Her eyes were mesmerized it appeared, wide-eyed and mouth gaped open as if something horrifying had her attention.
The man reappeared in her field of vision, muttered something and raised his gun toward the floor where Trevor lay; she saw something move in another part of the room. No one else was in the room, but she knew it was the same part of the room her sister was focused on. The man was oblivious to any movement which concerned her more.
She tried to peek over to the side of the room where she glimpsed movement, but the man stood in front of her blocking that part of the room.
Her sister mumbled, “Oh no!”
She looked over at her sister when the bedroom door slammed shut with such force that it caused the window on the opposite side of the room to crack. Her sister didn’t react, but the man snapped his head to his left as he cursed in surprise.
She pushed herself up, warding off the pain in her gut and head. She moved to her knees looking around until she saw her sister now by the cracked window but she wasn’t looking at her, still her focus was on the other part of the room, the bedroom door.
The man held the gun out in front of him and aimed it at the door. He muttered something and then the closet door slammed shut. He turned and squeezed off a shot sending shards of wood flying in the air upon the impact of the slug. The sound of the blast echoed in her ears.
The man kept his aim on the remnants of the closet door; spit dripping from his half-open mouth. Emery looked over at her sister who seemed oblivious of the gun blast as her attention remained on the bedroom door. She remained on the bed; Trevor moaned from the floor and began to move his head.
She looked down at Trevor who had his eyes opened; he looked up at her as she put a finger over her lips, and moved her eyes to the man. Trevor got the hint as he remained motionless and quiet, trying not to draw attention to himself.
She shifted her weight and slowly slid off the bed where her feet met the wood floor. She stood at the edge of the bed furthest from the man. She watched the man as he stood unmoving, yelling at the closet for whoever it was to come out or he was going to shoot again. When her sister suddenly appeared beside her, she gasped but fortunately it was not loud enough to be heard.
Her sister remained quiet, but there was something in her eyes that revealed more than she wanted to know. Terror. Her sister looked at her and then slowly turned her attention to the bedroom door and then back to her. In other words, look at the damn bedroom door, she surmised.
She looked away from her sister towards the door when the man turned around in the same instant and smiled. He took a step towards her but movement from the corner of her eye caught her attention and she turned to her left, towards the bedroom door and she felt all the air leave her lungs.
A dark figure stood in the corner of the room, black hair lying flat against its face, eyes peering through the strands of hair. The figure wasn’t tall but wasn’t short perhaps maybe five foot nine wearing what appeared to be a gray robe the kind a monk would wear, the hood was pulled back. The figure smiled the same smile she saw on Renna’s face only an hour or so earlier. She knew this was the same entity.
“What are you looking at?”
The bedroom window suddenly imploded sending shards of glass everywhere, Emery turned from the blast covering her face with her arms. The man wasn’t as quick as a piece of glass embedded in the flesh of his right cheek causing him to scream. Blood flowed down the side of his face, the gun no longer in his grasps as both hands tended to his wound.
The figure looked at her; she saw a fleck of red shine through its eyes as the figure stepped towards her. Looking at the man who moaned in agony, the gun on the floor, Trevor scampering to his feet, the figure stopped and stared at her.
The figure was a man, but she couldn’t see too much of his features beneath the robe and hair. She noticed the fingers on each hand were long and bony but not like a skeleton just minimal flesh causing the bones to show through.
Trevor tugged at her arm, urging her out of the room but she couldn’t take her eyes off the figure, this time, it wasn’t smiling.
“Come on, let’s get out of here!”
She couldn’t move, her feet were numb as she couldn’t shake the gaze of the figure, the red eyes unblinking back at her. She saw Trevor bend down, reaching for something when the man, bleeding from his face charged sending both of them into the far wall.
Stunned by the sudden motion, she was able to break her gaze long enough to see the man, red-faced, spit splattering wrestle control of the gun from Trevor’s hands. The shard of glass still protruded from his cheek, the gun came free and spun onto the floor beside them.
Emery moved towards the gun and kicked it away. The man turned and looked up at her, his eyes bloodshot, and his face was swelling from his injury. He had one knee on Trevor’s chest but didn’t appear to be applying any pressure as he stared at her.
“Who else is here, come out and show yourself.”
Her head still throbbed, and she felt a warm oozing from her gut, perhaps the stitches had been torn. The pain wasn’t as prevalent as it had been and she was able to move around with little difficulty.
“It won’t let us leave.” she shouted at him.
Moving to his feet, he clutched Emery’s throat with one bloody hand squeezing it hard. She started to choke and cough.
“I’m leaving for a moment, right after I finish this.”
She felt the room move, get darker. The figure moved behind the man. It smiled, eyes brightened. It hissed. She moved her hand and grabbed the piece of glass and pushed it deeper in the to the man’s cheek. The glass cut her hand, and he instantly let go of her throat as he screamed. She fell backward and landed on of the drawers from the dresser striking her tailbone.
The lamp on her nightstand suddenly turned on. The light began as a soft glow and steadily grew brighter, growing in intensity dispelling any shadows that hid in the room.
Emery moved away from the drawers and got onto her knees. She shielded her eyes from the immense light, the man cursed, but she couldn’t see anything except the brightness that illuminated by the small lamp.
Suddenly the lamp on the other side table turned on and followed the same illuminating pattern as the first one. Both of them continued to brighten with the second one soon matching the first one's luminosity. She looked away from the lights as an immense field of white filled the room. She first heard the sound of the popping transmitters before the glass exploded. She expected to be showered with shards of glass but luckily it was contained within each of the lamp shades.
The room was cast in shadows once more, the only light now emanated from the hallway. It took her a few moments for her eyes to adjust. She looked around the room, she felt disoriented. The man stood a few feet from her holding his cheek with his right hand.
“What the hell is going on? What are you doing?” he yelled at her. She got to her feet. Blood flowed between his fingers as he attempted to clutch the wound in his cheek. She glimpsed her sister who stood next to her but trying to keep her focus on the man. Trevor yelled something, the man screamed as he lunged at her. She felt her body lift off the ground and fell sideways toward the shattered closet door. She heard an agonizing scream, looked up toward Trevor, his mouth draped open.
She knew the scream had not come from him, she whirled around saw her sister and her face had taken on an ashen color, beyond her she saw the man. His upper body was through the window, his legs twitched, and the wall surrounding the window was sprayed brownish red.
She couldn’t take her eyes off of him as he slowly slid backward from the window and came to rest leaning against the wall; his head slumped onto his right shoulder. A long shard of glass protruded from his throat, blood spilled out and flowed down his chest. His eyes rolled to the back of his head, air bubbled through the blood in his neck. He gasped, gurgled and then his left leg stopped twitching as a loud gasp transitioned to cold silence. She felt her legs go numb, and she fell to her knees, finally looking away from the dead man.
Trevor called out to her, saying he was going to get help, he begged for her to come with him but she felt more like she was in a tunnel, sounds were funneled, and everything seemed to move slowly.
Melissa knelt down next to Emery. She said nothing. Neither one of them spoke a word for what seemed like an eternity. Only when she turned to look at her sister did she see the dark mass in the corner of the room by the bed. The dark figure moved toward the black mass, eyes staring at her.
“M, I have to go. I can’t stay here.”
Tears clung to the rim of her eyes, “But I already lost you once; I can’t do this without you. Please, don’t go.”
Emery thought back to that black mass she encountered in the living room, the peace she felt from it. It was a passageway, one that was meant for her sister.
“The longer I stay here, there’s more of a chance something else will come back. I can’t stay M, I love you nutball, but this is my time.”
“It was you, you pushed me out of the way,” her sister put a hand on her shoulder, “you did, didn’t you?”
“M, it’s my time; you have to let me go. We both know that I don’t belong here.”
The figure moved closer to the dark mass. She knew her sister was right, it was her time. The figure was here to collect her sister.
“I don’t know if I can go on without you Mel, you have been my whole life. How do I do it?”
Melissa placed her hand under Emery’s chin.
“Like you always have. I will always be here,” she said moving her hand to Emery’s heart. “
“Earlier, in the living room,” she glanced at the black mass in the corner of the room, “what would have happened if you didn’t pull me out?”
“I never pulled you out; it just wasn’t your time.”
Melissa stood up and walked toward the black mass. Tears spilled from Emery’s eyes. The dark figure looked back at her before he turned and disappeared into the mass. Melissa stood motionless looking back at her as the mass grew around her and slowly both faded away.
Chapter Nine