A Place So Wicked

by Patrick Reuman

  There was a long pause. Eli coughed, dry and raspy. Toby rose and said he was going to fetch Eli a drink, hurrying out of the room while Eli was still in mid-cough and unable to decline the offer. The sink came on in the background. The entire house was silent aside from Toby. No stirrings came from above. Paisley just stared at Eli, who, she thought, seemed like he had been waiting so long to get these things off his chest. She wanted to hug him, to comfort him and to be comforted in return, but just then, Toby walked back in holding a cup of water. He handed it to Eli, who took a sip before setting it down on the table.

  “This town,” Eli started again, the words coming out slow. “The land, and the people on it, there’s something wrong with it, with them. There always has been.” He took in a deep breath. “Black Falls wasn’t originally called Black Falls. Its original name, the one that the settlers gave it, was Dead Falls. See, from what I could dig up on the internet, the history of the area, and various conspiracy sites, was that this place was completely uninhabitable, at least at one point. When settlers tried to build a colony here, the land was crude, dried up, and dead. Nothing could grow. And those that lived here…they all died. Every single one of them. But that’s where things got even crazier. Because, if everything that came here died, how are we here now? Why did people keep coming back? Well, this is going to sound insane. Because it is insane! But each time, after people would come here, fail with their crops, not find any food to hunt, and then die, the place would finally come to life.”

  Eli took another drink from the cup, his throat having gone dry from talking so much. He hadn’t really thought about any of this in a long time, having hid the information in the recesses of his mind for his own protection, but now that he was retelling it, now that he finally had someone to tell it to, all the memories, all the information he dug up, was pouring back into his mind, and he had to get it all out.

  “It’s said that the ground, after everybody had died, would suddenly grow. The crops, as if waiting for the growers to die, would spring up. The water from the falls, having tasted foul, would finally run clean and become drinkable. Animals would return. Life would return. Then, after word got out of the area’s new prosperity due to travelers passing through, settlers would return. But, by the time they arrived, the land would once again be barren.”

  Toby pictured animal carcasses spread along the ground, the flesh having decayed off their bones, rib cages protruding into the air as if trying to get away from the tainted soil. Paisley imagined black water pouring from a small waterfall, the falls that she had never even seen before but knew existed somewhere outside of town. Toby remembered the dead grass outside and the tree that looked as though all life had been drained from it years ago.

  Eli continued. “They would build homes, plant crops, try to live their lives, hoping that the land would return to the way it was told to be, the way the travelers had seen it. But it never did, not in their lifetimes. They would end up like all the rest. They would die.”

  “But somebody must have figured out something,” Paisley said. “I mean, as you said, we’re here. Hundreds of people live here now. Thousands, maybe.”

  “Do you believe in the supernatural?” Eli asked.

  He asked it to both of them, the words hanging in the air like tantalizing treats. Toby hadn’t before. But did he now? After seeing what he had in the attic?

  “Yes,” Paisley said, much to Toby’s surprise. She noticed Toby’s expression and hurried to her defense. “I mean, I don’t know. I believe in something. I’m just not sure what. Do ghosts exist, though? I don’t know.”

  Eli nodded, feeling exactly the way Paisley did about the whole question. “Well, as you can imagine, rumors grew. Legends sprang up. What was in Dead Falls that kept everything so dead? Some said demons. Some believed there was some kind of god living here, an ancient pagan thing that fed on the noble Christians that came to settle. Others believe it was simply cursed, by a witch or a warlock. All I know is that we are here now. So, at some point, things stopped dying.”

  “Now it’s a fuckin’ paradise,” Toby said, the disdain not hidden in his voice. “That’s the first thing our dad told us about this place, how fricken great it was. Top of the charts. Booming!”

  Eli laughed a quiet chuckle. “A perfect paradise.”

  “That still doesn’t answer what exactly is going on here, in this house,” Paisley said.

  Eli’s shoulder sagged. “That’s another thing I’m not sure about. This house might be the town’s best kept secret.”

  “What do you mean?” Toby asked.

  “People move in here. That’s it. That’s what I know happens. They move in, and then we know they are gone because all of a sudden more new people are moving in. Nobody knows where the original people went. And nobody asks. Because if you do ask, you’ll disappear, too. This town is plagued by disappearances that somehow go unmentioned, unnoticed by anyone that would do something about it. It’s never in the news. Nobody outside of town ever seems to notice. Nobody asks where everyone is disappearing to. People in the town barely even seem to notice. Or they’re too afraid to say it.”

  “When we first moved in, the grass outside was dead. The tree out front was dead, too. Someone had tried to hide it. But now…if you went out there and looked, you’d see it all alive again,” Toby said. “But everybody in here, we’re all sick. Well, not us—me and Paisley. Trevor and Robbie, though, they look like they’re ready to…” He stopped, not able to speak the word his mind was thinking. “It’s like…the house is taking our life, like a parasite. Like we’re…”

  “Sacrifices,” Paisley said. “But to what? There are no demons here, or ghosts, or gods, or whatever.”

  “I—I’ve seen some things,” Toby said, turning to face Paisley. “Things that I haven’t been able to explain. But none of them looked like vengeful spirits that wanted to kill us.”

  “Like what?” Paisley asked.

  “I saw a woman in the attic, the night I fell asleep up there, or passed out, rather. But it wasn’t angry. It didn’t look evil. Actually, it looked like it was trying to get out. It was pulling at the window, trying to get it open. She, the ghost, looked terrified.” He remembered the cold chill that had run through his body as he watched the woman back herself into the corner.

  Seconds of silence passed as the others considered Toby’s story of the woman in the attic.

  “The door!” Toby jumped to his feet. “There is a door in the basement, leading to another room. It’s locked. The terrible smell in here, it’s a thousand times worse in the basement. That’s where it’s coming from. We thought maybe there was a dead animal in there, but the door has been locked so we couldn’t check. Nobody can find the key. Not us or the realtor.”

  “You think there is something in there causing all this?” Paisley asked, getting to her feet as well, a tiny spark of hope igniting within her.

  “I don’t know,” Toby said. “But there is definitely something down there. It’s a good place to start.”

  Paisley didn’t like where this was going. She knew the truth, or at least part of it, and now she wanted to leave. The house was the culprit, that much seemed evident, so they needed to get as far away from it as possible.

  “Even if they’re watching us, we can get everybody in the car and go. If we do it quick, we could probably get away. It’s dark out.” She hurried to the window and looked out, not seeing anybody in the street or across the road, or anywhere else. She didn’t see anybody watching them as Eli had suspected.

  Eli grabbed her and pulled her away from the window. He didn’t like how hard he did it, but he didn’t want her to be seen. He didn’t want these people to end up like the others.

  “You can’t. They’ll stop you! I’ve seen it! I used to take walks at night. I saw a family try to leave once. I saw them get into their car and drive. It never works!” An image of a crashed car flickered into Eli’s head, an old memory he had tried to bury. A memory of wreckag
e he had seen the last night he ever dared take a walk. He watched from behind some bushes as unknown people looked into the car, checking, he suspected, if the people within were still alive. “There’s no way they’ll let you go now. If only I could have warned you guys when you first got here.”

  “We’d never have listened,” Toby said. “I don’t even know if I believe in ghosts now. I sure as hell wouldn’t have believed there was some demon here that was going to try to kill us.”

  Paisley was in tears. She turned away from Toby and Eli, angry and sad, not specifically with them but with everything.

  “There are words on the door in the basement,” Toby said. “They’re weird, like in another language or something. Has anyone ever opened the door in the basement?”

  “I don’t know,” Eli said. “I’ve never heard of the door.”

  “It seems like others have been stuck here but tried to escape. But what I’m wondering is if anybody has ever gotten that door open. If there is a ghost in there, why not just let it out? Why keep it locked up behind some door?”

  “Please don’t,” Paisley said. “I don’t know what you’re going to try to do, but please don’t do it.”

  “We have to do something. What else is there? Whatever’s going on, it must have something to do with that door or whatever is behind it. I need to know what those words mean.”

  32

  Toby came up with a quick plan. He would go down there and capture a photograph of the door on his phone then they would use that picture and the internet to translate the words.

  Easy. Right?

  That’s what he had told himself. And it seemed logical, right up until he stood in front of that door, the basement lurking on the other side. Eli had his arm covering his nose, his eyes squinting. Paisley was trying not to stare at Toby, waiting for him to take the plunge. But the task of going into the basement suddenly seemed a lot more daunting now that they were there and now that they knew that something may be lying in wait in the basement’s depths.

  When Toby finally reached for the handle, he felt the cold of the doorknob, icy to the touch, as though someone had hidden it under a sheet of ice and only just returned it to the door seconds before they rounded the corner. When he yanked the door open, the expected wave of disgusting rushed out at them. Toby and Paisley were prepared for it, at least mentally. But not Eli. Even with his arm covering his nose, he stepped back, away from the door, hunched over, and dry heaved. For a moment, Toby thought the boy was going to pass out, but he didn’t. Eli steadied his waver and looked up at Toby.

  Toby took off down the stairs. Every inch deeper he descended into the pit, the stench seemed to multiply in severity. He could hardly see, the light switch having given him problems at the top of the stairs. But his instincts drove him, guiding him through the dark. He wondered if the problem was the switch at all or if the bulb had already died, being trapped down here with the decay. He didn’t even bother pulling the light switch when he reached it. Instead, he just lifted his phone, flash-mode on, and took three pictures of the door in quick succession.

  He glanced at the phone to make sure the pictures accomplished his goal. They did. Back at the top of the stairs, he reappeared from the darkness like a snake from a pit, surging out with speed and desperation. He swung the door shut behind him, ran for the back door, pulled it open, stuck his head out, and took in a long, deep breath of fresh night air.

  Everything had been spinning but was slowly coming to a standstill as he looked up at the stars. He felt a hand on his shoulder and turned around.

  “Just making sure you’re okay,” Paisley said.

  He nodded his head yes but really was unsure. His entire body felt different from just those few seconds he had spent down there. It wasn’t specifically pain he felt, not exactly. It was a sudden feeling of exhaustion and vertigo. He clenched the doorknob for a moment, afraid his knees may buckle.

  But he didn’t remain there for long. He knew, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world, that if he got away from the basement, he would start to feel better. So he did, pretending the best he could that he was perfectly fine. They followed Toby to the living room. Once on the couch, as if magic, he could feel his body relaxing and regaining its energy.

  “Can I see the picture?” Eli asked.

  Toby handed him the phone, the camera app still open. Eli clicked and enlarged the photograph. The flash gleamed off of numerous small orbs and white mist. He knew from the internet that some might suspect those were spirits or some other supernatural entity the light was picking up. He wasn’t sure himself.

  Beyond the mist, though, were words etched into a door. They looked foreign, ancient, like hieroglyphs on the walls of the Egyptian pyramids. He tilted the picture, trying to get a clearer look as if he were down there himself, looking at the words in person.

  Toby looked over Eli’s shoulder. The words actually looked clearer, Toby thought, than when he had seen them before. Like they were etched deeper or wider. Toby read the words aloud, trying to pronounce them the best he could.

  ULTRA HAEC QUAEDAM TENEBRAE MANENT

  IPSAS UT LIBERES

  VERBA CLAVE CANTA

  A long pause passed between the three kids.

  “I don’t know,” Eli said. “It’s another language, that much is obvious enough. But I don’t know what it means.”

  Toby held his hand out, and Eli passed him the phone back. A smile formed in the corners of his mouth as he stared at the mystery words. “Well, thankfully, we have a magic tool called the internet.”

  Paisley stuck her hand in her pocket. “We can use my phone.”

  She handed it off to Toby. Looking from his phone to hers, he slowly typed in what the message appeared to say. Most of what popped up in the search made little sense to Toby, until he scrolled about halfway down the page. One link read: “Latin Flashcards.” It was a link to some school website, which he clicked on. Upon a quick scan of the page, what he saw didn’t look like it was going to help them very much. But what it did tell him was essential; the words were in Latin.

  The internet had plenty of language translators. He found one and pasted the words into it. What came out was this: “Beyond these MANENT OF THE DARK Will as free Keywords Canta.” Toby stared at it, Eli and Paisley on either side of him doing the same.

  Eli was typing quickly into his own phone. “Manent means…used as a stage direction to specify that named characters do not leave the stage.” He looked back at Paisley’s phone in Toby’s hand. “That makes no sense at all.”

  Before Toby could reply, Eli started typing into his phone again, his fingers moving like lightning in a mad dash. “Canta means…nice, neat, or pretty.”

  “I don’t understand,” Paisley said. “This doesn’t make any sense. Why would it say this on the door?”

  “Wait,” Toby said, remembering a time in eighth grade when he tried using an internet translator on a Spanish assignment. “It’s probably not right. These internet translators are crap at best.”

  He stared hard at his own, at the door in the photograph, wondering what detail he missed. He felt like he was defusing a bomb, like the words he was trying to translate off the door were numbers counting down to zero, down to their destruction.

  “Hold on,” Toby said as he started typing frantically into Paisley’s phone.

  The words on the door seemed to be broken up into parts. To the left, and to the right of the lines, plenty of empty space was left where more words could have been placed but weren’t. He knew other languages didn’t necessarily form sentences in the way English did, but all that extra space seemed strange to him if not there to separate the portions of text into three separate lines of one larger statement. As if the three lines were deliberately distinct and meant to be translated separately.

  “If you make the words lowercase, it changes the meaning in the translator,” Eli said. “ULTRA HAEC QUAEDAM TENEBRAE MANENT in lowercase translates, according to this tran
slator, into ‘Beyond these kind of darkness remain.’”

  Toby stood, staring at his phone, the light gleaming off his skin. “Beyond these kind of darkness remain—will as free—the key is to sing.”’

  “Recite,” Eli said, looking up from his own phone. “Canta can also mean recite, I think.”

  “What?” Paisley said. She was trying not to be hysterical, but she was slowly losing her grip. Every second they spent on not understanding this gibberish put them one moment closer, she thought, to something terrible.

  Toby pondered the words. He knew what it sounded like, what he thought they may be implying, but there had to be something else because this couldn’t be it. He didn’t want it to be it. But somewhere deep within him, he knew that the worst was going to be the truth.

  “Behind the door, there is a darkness. Will it free,” Toby said. “The key is to sing.”

  “The key is recite, I think. To will the darkness free, the key is to recite the words,” Eli said.

  Toby and Eli locked eyes, both trying to process what was happening. Paisley’s eyes were glossing, just moments from tears, not from sadness, but fear for them all.

  Toby turned and took a step away, stutter stepped in one direction as if unsure, then turned back to face them. “When I went down into the basement with my dad, I read the words on the door out loud. If that’s what the words meant, that reading it would set the darkness free, why didn’t anything happen? Everything is still exactly how it was before.”

  33

  The hour was late. Lisa had finally fallen or, perhaps more accurately, crashed to sleep after what seemed like an eternity of near-puke wrenching. Now she lay there, the blanket up to her eyes, sleeping restlessly, her snores, which emerged rarely, mixing with groans of pain.

  Richard, on the other hand, couldn’t even manage that much. He would, on occasion, pass out only to wake again just minutes later, the pain in his abdomen like a knife being twisted in his innards. He would groan, tears filling his eyes, and then nearly pass out. Even the short bouts of sleep, or unconsciousness, he managed to obtain, he wasn’t sure if they were actual sleep or his body simply giving out, the surges of agony just too much to handle.