by Aiden James
He pulled the remaining tape still attached to the torn corner of the note from the entrance door’s expensive glass. Part of the taped portion felt greasy, and when he examined it closer under the flashlight’s glow, he realized the substance was blood.
John stepped back and then looked around him again, pointing the flashlight’s beam in every direction; a little less angry and a bit nervous. A bevy of images from the late night horror flicks he so loved filled his mind, feeding his growing apprehension. It wasn’t until after he continued to look around him that the irrational basis for his unease receded and he regained most of his composure.
Two things were now readily apparent. The blood was in such a small amount that it could’ve come from a pin-prick, or more likely, Johnnie biting his fingernails down to the quick. He’d seen him do that before, usually in monthly briefings with Vernon. The other thing was more intuitive… there ain’t nobody here but me! No crazed psychos spying on him from nearby—only the ones from the film clips inside his head.
He smiled, sheepish, aware of how silly his lanky, six-foot-four frame might’ve looked a moment ago, waving his flashlight back and forth warily…if someone actually had been watching.
He approached the door again, this time more confident. Locked. Well, at least J.M. had the presence of mind to secure the main entrance before he wigged out.
John unlocked the door. The first order of business would be turning the security lights back on, followed by double-checking to make sure no one was hiding somewhere inside the building. He would then radio Matt Edmonds and his mentor, Steve Holland, to let them know Johnnie had bailed and that he would cover the Langston Hall job as a double-shift until Pete Lindsey relieved him in the morning.
The door groaned tiredly as John entered the building, lamenting out loud about how this assignment would be damn near impossible to manage if anyone else quit. Hell, first Tony Williams ended up being hospitalized Saturday night, and now Tony’s flakey buddy, Johnnie Mercer, goes AWOL. Who else was left for poor Vernon to rely on next? Probably some stiff from the local job corps, John’s best guess.
“Whe-e-e-w!” he whistled under his breath, after turning on the master control for the overhead fluorescent lights that lined the main floor. He momentarily forgot about calling Matt and Steve. “What the hell happened in here?”
In addition to the overturned card table and chair that served as a terrible substitute for the normal campus guard stations, Maxim magazines lay scattered across the floor. John snickered at the sight of Johnnie’s preferred distraction to help him get through the many long, lonely nights during an assignment like this one. His customary thermos of hot coffee had been turned over; its contents cold and congealed on the floor underscored the haste in which Johnnie vacated his post.
“Anybody home?” he called out merrily, smiling at the image in his mind of Johnnie leaving in haste.
What’s the big hurry, tough guy?
The heater kicked on suddenly, seemingly in response to his verbal question. He moved over to the shadowed section near the building’s rear, peering up the stairwell as he shined his flashlight toward the second floor. Detecting nothing unusual, he pointed his flashlight down into the basement stairwell. Same old Langston Icebox so far.
Comfortable that the building sat empty aside from him, John’s next priority was to clean up the mess left by his coworker. Grabbing a roll of paper towels from the only restroom on the main floor, he set out to clean the coffee spill. With that taken care of he set the chair and card table back up. He’d just finished stacking Johnnie’s Maxims on one side of the table when he thought he heard footsteps creep across the floor above him.
John’s pulse quickened. The footsteps continued, and his heart began to pound hard in his chest until it felt like the organ would push through his throat in an attempt to flee his trembling torso. Embarrassed by his fear, he summoned what little courage remained and made his feet walk back toward the stairs. His intent was to flick on the switch to the overhead light bulb that dangled from a long wire hanging down from the three-story ceiling above the stairwell. The footsteps above moved along with him, as if the unseen visitor knew his exact location and purposely traced his course to the stairs.
When he arrived at the stairwell the footsteps stopped. But a deep breathing sound resonated above him in the darkness. The air around him quickly grew icy as he reached for the light switch on the wall to his left. He bravely turned on the light anyway, and for a moment the illumination was strong enough to cast a bright glow upon the walls. But then the light flickered, followed by a loud ‘pop’ as the naked bulb burst into a shower of tiny glass chips cascading down toward him. This event took place right after he saw a large grotesque shadow appear on the wall across from the second floor entry.
Seeing something like this would scare anyone, John reasoned. No one in their right mind would consider venturing upstairs alone—definitely not without a weapon offering better protection than the can of mace and heavy flashlight he carried with him. But the low pitched groan that suddenly arose from the murky depths of the basement stairwell below him erased any thought of investigating anything at any time in this place.
A choking sound accompanied the groan, as if something attempted to clear its throat. It might’ve seemed somewhat human if not for the slithering sound that soon followed. That wasn’t human. Nor the sound of its enormous mass brushing against the darkened sides of the lower stairwell as it began to climb the stairs.
Another groan, much louder than the first, arose from beneath the floor he stood upon… Was that a smacking sound I just heard? ‘Sounds like that enormous motherfucker’s real hungry!!
Before he could define the noises further, a high pitched cackle pierced the air in the stairwell above the first floor. The wooden stairs soon creaked in rhythm, announcing that perhaps the owner of the bloodcurdling guffaw was on its way down to meet him. The soft red hairs attached to the goose flesh along John’s entire body sprang to life and his bowels immediately loosened. If the owners of the groan and menacing laughter were out to frighten the night watchman beyond his wits, nothing more was needed. Before either menace reached the main floor, John Campbell had already fled the building, his terrified cries ripping through the early Christmas morning peacefulness.
He later wrote in his resignation letter that he saw something, though not near in as much detail as what he’d eventually tell the Knoxville police detectives investigating three seemingly related homicides. As John turned one last time toward Langston Hall, he could’ve sworn someone looked out through the open doorway on the first floor. Someone or some thing.
Under the fluorescent glow from the row of lights that lined the main floor’s ceiling, the dim tall figure looked like some old naked man with long groove-like scars upon his face and body. His stringy grey hair was matted with clumps of black feathers in his hair. But the thing that made John think the ‘man’ wasn’t really a human being were the bright yellow eyes—almost cat like—and his smile. When he smiled at John, he pulled back his lips eerily wide…wide enough to reveal two rows of long, jagged sharp teeth.
Chapter Thirteen
“Mommy! Daddy! Look what Santa brought me!!”
Christopher excitedly held up one of the game controllers for the latest X-Box version left under the tree. He then reached for the Spiderman skateboard and matching helmet, nearly tripping over the huge pile of wadded gift-wrap paper he’d created in his haste to find out what St. Nicholas brought him.
“Wow! That’s great, honey!” said Miriam, with as much enthusiasm as three and a half hours of sleep could support. Just as she and David accurately predicted the night before, their youngest child was up as soon as the first hint of dawn crept in through his bedroom window upstairs. ”See…didn’t we tell you how proud Santa is about your good grades in school and how you keep up on your chores?”
“And, I’m sure he remembered all of the projects you helped me with this past summer,�
�� added David. “It looks like Santa must’ve really liked the cookies and milk you set out for him.”
David pointed to the small table next to the recliner. The empty plate and drained milk glass were all that remained from the Tollhouse cookies that Miriam prepared and wrapped in green cellophane for Santa to nibble on while setting up the gifts he brought for Christopher and his older siblings. Tyler seemed very pleased with the latest Rock Band upgrade and his new laptop, similar to one given to Janice the night before. As for Jillian, she seemed just as happy with the diamond/emerald pendant she received, along with the winter wardrobe collection of new dresses, sweaters, designer jeans, and a genuine pair of jade snakeskin boots she had her eye on for the past few months.
David felt especially proud of his older kids’ patience with Christopher’s continual badgering about their lists to Santa Claus. They both confirmed several times this morning that they, too, had sent letters to the North Pole detailing their hearts’ desires laid bare for Santa and his trusty elves to take care of. Even so, David couldn’t help snickering in response to the look on Tyler’s face, which clearly announced his suppressed urge to tell his little brother that all of the presents under the tree each Christmas morning came from Mom and Dad.
“Well, good morning, ya’ll!” said Ruth, walking gingerly into the living room from the foyer. Already dressed for the day, her hair primped and makeup on, she wore a colorful green pantsuit embroidered with sequined reindeer and wreaths.
“Good morning to you, too, Auntie!” said David, moving over to give her a gentle hug to start the day. His sentiments echoed enthusiastically by everyone else, Sadie jumped down from her perch on Jillian’s lap to come greet Ruth as well, her tail wagged wildly as she pawed Ruth’s legs to coax her into picking her up.
“Would you like some coffee or tea to start the day off right?” offered Miriam, tightening the neck on her bathrobe, perhaps a little self-conscious since Ruth was fully dressed.
“That would be lovely, dear!” Ruth replied. “But don’t trouble yourself—I’ll be more than happy to take care of it. You just take time to enjoy the kids. Lord knows, moments like these will fall through your fingers like a summer rain.”
Before Miriam could protest, Ruth was already on her way to the kitchen, pausing only to give hugs to her grand nephews and niece. “Would anyone else like for me to fetch them something from the kitchen while I’m in there?” she asked before disappearing from view.
Miriam said she’d take some tea, if Ruth intended to fix a cup for herself. When she confirmed it was indeed what she had in mind, David chimed in that he would also enjoy a cup. Jillian and Tyler soon followed, leaving Christopher the lone dissenter. The youngest Hobbs member wanted a glass of chocolate milk, which David volunteered to get for him. Miriam joined him as he headed for the kitchen, ready to start preparing breakfast.
While the skillets warmed up, Miriam paused to drink her tea and share some light conversation with Ruth in the living room. Seated on the sofa, Christopher and Jillian flanked their great aunt on either side, with Sadie sitting contented upon her lap.
“So did you have any trouble sleeping last night?” asked Miriam, noticing the slight redness around the rims of Ruth’s eyes.
“Oh, I slept very well, I believe,” she replied. “The question is whether or not I kept ya’ll up by sawing more logs than a legion of beavers in the Chattahoochee River basin!” She laughed. “David should remember how it was growing up in our house back in Chattanooga, how everyone snored something awful. Although he didn’t snore much as a kid, I’d be surprised if he hasn’t kept you up some nights, being a Hobbs and all.”
“Usually she’s the one keeping me awake,” said David, wryly, earning him a prompt nudge from Miriam. “They all snore more than me—including Chris. It can get pretty loud upstairs, Auntie. You have no idea.”
“Oh, Yeah?? We’ll straighten this out later, Buster!” chided Miriam, popping him lightly on the back of his head as she stood up from the loveseat to return to the kitchen. David feigned the blow injured him, falling out of the loveseat—which drew immediate applause from Tyler followed by a burst of laughter from Jillian and Christopher.
The mood merry, Jillian nearly skipped into the kitchen to join her mom in fixing pancakes and bacon. Christopher seized the opportunity to tell his great aunt all about what Santa brought him. Her sincere interest in what the youngster had to say impressed David, especially when Christopher told her about the storylines to the three games that came with the new system. That explanation lasted halfway through breakfast.
“Auntie Ruth, would you like to see what I got from Santa?” asked Jillian, jumping up from her chair when finished eating. “One of the sweaters I got looks a lot like the one you were wearing when we picked you up at the airport. And there are two dresses, some more sweaters, pants, and blue snakeskin boots. Oh, and see the pendant I got??” She lifted it from where it hung upon her chest as she moved over to where Ruth sat.
“Why it’s very pretty, dear!” Ruth took a moment to admire the excellent craftsmanship. “You’ll definitely want to take good care of it, don’t you know!”
David wondered if his aunt thought it a bit extravagant to splurge on jewelry for such a young girl, nearly a year shy of the onset of her teenage years, though puberty had already arrived.
“Snakeskin boots, huh?” said Ruth, “and such a beautiful color!”
“Yep!” Jillian smiled broadly and then gently tugged on Ruth’s arm to coax her into the living room. Christopher ran after them, announcing he wanted to show Ruth the colorful artwork on his skateboard. Meanwhile, Tyler finished his cereal and prepared to head upstairs, announcing his intent to get his shower out of the way.
“Hey, sport… don’t you want to show Auntie what Santa got you?” teased David.
“Very funny, Dad,” Tyler replied dryly. “She’s great and all, but I hardly think she’d find any of the RPGs and music I’m into much fun. Hell, you don’t, and you’re not even forty yet.”
David shot him a look, letting him know that he straddled a thin line with his smart mouth.
“Sorry, Dad—I didn’t mean any disrespect.” Tyler cast his gaze downward, perhaps fearing the upbraiding that often came—at least prior to David’s trip back to Tennessee in October.
“It’s okay son… just watch your tone next time,” said David, drawing an approving look from Miriam that he didn’t see. The grateful look on Tyler’s face was enough.
“I will, Dad. I promise.”
He smiled and left the kitchen, moving quickly to the foyer and then upstairs. That left David and Miriam alone in the kitchen, where they snuggled for a moment near the sink. It wasn’t the time or place for anything more, but a whispered promise from her to be patient until later on sufficed in steering his thoughts onto other things.
David started clearing the table while whistling Jingle Bells. It proved to be an effective distraction for him. The dishwasher loaded and quietly cleaning its contents, he moved over to Miriam, gently wrapping his arm around her shoulders to guide her back into the living room where they joined Ruth and the younger kids.
***
The trip upstairs was a quick one, as Tyler refused to linger on the staircase. After nearly getting killed by a ghost in October, caution and being fully aware of one’s surroundings was how he lived each day since. This approach had served him well so far, and even allowed him to catch a glimpse of the ‘old tree man’ that Chris recently described to his parents, Auntie Jan, Auntie Ruth, and the weird psychic friend of mom and Jan named Sara.
Watching the specter move from the dining room to the foyer one day last week, he felt very grateful it seemed unaware of his observation point on the second floor landing. But being woken up with the naked sucker glowering at him in his doorway a couple of nights later almost sent him screaming to his parents’ room. He would have if it hadn’t disappeared once he sat up in his bed.
The apparition scared him w
orse than Allie Mae’s angry spirit had. He wasn’t sure why, either. More a feeling… one that made him certain it wouldn’t be good if drawn into a face to face physical encounter with the thing.
“But thank God that’s over with,” Tyler muttered to himself as he reached the second floor.
It seemed cooler up here than earlier that morning. Or, it could just be his imagination running a little wild on him after thinking about this shit…hard to say for sure. But, the milder weather outside usually made it hotter upstairs if the heater ran, like right then.
Come on, dude...hold it together, Ty baby.
He snickered nervously until he reached his room, where he stripped down to his underwear and set out the wool sweater and his favorite pair of faded Lee’s on his bed. As he moved over to his dresser to grab some socks and a clean pair of briefs, he detected movement out of the corner of his eye. Something crept quietly past his open doorway.
Every nerve and muscle tensed and alert, Tyler approached the doorway. He thought about how Allie Mae cornered him in his bedroom two months ago, her invisible feet creaking across the landing as she moved toward him. But not this time. Aside from the hall’s temperature continuing to plummet he didn’t detect anyone else up here.
He moved to the bathroom. Sunlight poured in through the top portion of the back window above dark blue curtains that matched the rest of the bathroom’s décor. Even so, he reached in through the doorway to flick on the light before stepping inside. After checking to make sure no one hid behind the shower curtain, he quickly closed the door and locked it. Tyler rushed through his routine of brushing his teeth and jumping into the shower with a sense of urgency unseen since his dad took him to a Rockies game last summer. Afterward, he put on his deodorant and splashed cologne, leaving his hair to dry natural after combing it back.