The Haunting of Steely Woods

by Bonnie Elizabeth

  I heard weeping outside.

  I hurried out.

  Ronette was pressed against the brick of the building, sniffling and crying. She wasn’t crying loudly, only sniffling.

  “How could you stand there and work with that?” she asked.

  “I was trying to get rid of it,” I said.

  “I know. But how?” Ronette wasn’t making sense. She paused, looking at me. “How could you ever face it again? I’ve never been so scared. I thought I got your terror but this…”

  She was shaking her head.

  On some level she’d never quite believed me. Thought, perhaps, that I’d had some sort of incident and like Anson was saying, I had made up something to fit the facts. Now she had seen it and knew it was real, knew I wasn’t making anything up at all and it terrified her.

  “I had to do it,” I said. “She said she’d keep hurting people close to me and I’m hoping to take care of her.”

  Ronette nodded. “I came back to make sure you were okay. But I can’t go back in there. I’m sorry.”

  “I’ll call you when I’m done,” I said.

  Ronette nodded but she made no move to go to her car. She continued shaking. I wanted to help her, but I would have to put down one of my items, either the knife or the sage. I wasn’t willing to do either of those things. I was certain they were the reason I was standing up.

  One of my spoons shifted in my bra and dug into my chest. Reassuring in some bizarre way. I went back into the building to continue to do battle.

  “Why only women?” I asked out loud when I was standing near the salt I had poured. One of the candles had gutted. I’d knocked another over and fortunately, instead of lighting the place on fire, it had gutted against the tile. Maybe the building did need to burn.

  I kept that in mind. I didn’t have what it would take to burn the place down, not then but if I had to, I would.

  “Why women Lucy? Why them?”

  “She betrayed me,” the voice said. So much anger.

  “But it was a man who murdered you,” I replied. I looked around, trying to see where she might be, what I might need to do to burn the place down. Of course the building was brick, filled with tile and metal. Burning would be difficult, if not impossible. Maybe if one of those semi’s exploded over it but probably not without something that drastic.

  “She was my sister.” The anger was giving way to pain.

  “She should have protected you.” I tried to remember what I had picked up reading pop-psychology books during my enforced imprisonment of fear.

  There was nothing.

  “Let me take you. You’ll be the last. I promise.”

  The voice was close, near my ear again. The chill was sinking down into my shoulder, making my right arm, the one with the knife feel heavy. I felt lethargic, as if I wanted to lie down and give in.

  “No more,” I said. “Begone!” I whirled whipping the knife around. Again, I felt I encountered something almost solid, the knife slipping through. This time the force was the same as hitting softened butter. There, but not there. A tugging that could have been my imagination but I’d given up believing Lucy was only my imagination hours ago, if not years.

  And then Lucy stood before me, on the other side of the salt. She was a girl, younger than I was, perhaps not much younger than I had been the first time I’d nearly died in the rest area. She was underdressed in thin jeans and a shirt with long sleeves, the cuffs frayed. A rip showed me part of her belly, thin and sunken. A button had been sewn on with a brighter colored thread. Her feet were in old faded red, now pink, Keds that looked worn and in need of repair, the sole splitting from the pink fabric on one side.

  “She locked me in to keep me from going to school or getting help. Then she chased me down and gave me to him,” Lucy said. She was a child, angry, spitting mad, wanting to be heard.

  “I can try and write up your story so people know,” I said. “Is that what you want? Would that do?”

  “I was a person!” Lucy screamed.

  “I know.” She looked sad.

  Suddenly I was overwhelmed by sadness, a wave of it, engulfing me. I had heard the term, thought it cliché, but in that moment a wave was exactly what it was. An emotion so large and so big it might have been the ocean crashing down over me, threatening to drown me in pain. I gasped, unable to catch my breath. I fought the pain, struggling to come up for air.

  “He beat me nearly to death,” Lucy said. “And then he used me. After, he used the knife. And she let him. For money.”

  “That was wrong,” I said, feeling rather sick and not just from the sorrow I was feeling. No wonder this girl was so angry.

  Lucy reached out a hand. I was tempted to take it, to drop the sage and take it but I didn’t move.

  “I’m sorry,” I said. “I can’t trust you. Not after all you’ve done. All you’ve threatened. I will tell your story though. You deserve that.”

  The face changed, morphing into the half decomposed corpse it had been. I wondered why she chose that and not the bones she was likely reduced to by now.

  She flew at me, the breeze sending the salt flying around the room. I snapped my eyes shut to avoid getting any in them. I held up the sage and the knife. Nothing hit me.

  I tried to breathe but the salt was still in the air making it taste of the sea and sage and I couldn’t draw air. I backed up, into a cold embrace.

  It tightened on me and something sliced through my skin, hitting the iron of the spoon. It withdrew as suddenly as it was there.

  I whirled with the knife out, slicing through the apparition. I didn’t aim but caught the bones near the shoulder and the neck.

  Lucy’s eyes widened.

  I withdrew the knife.

  Her skeletal mouth seemed to widen its smile, though I knew that had to be my imagination and the shadows in the room, such as they were.

  I drew the knife across where her neck would be, plunging it deep enough to reach the boney neck.

  Her head tottered and slid to the side.

  I thought I heard a scream of pain.

  I backed up.

  The lights buzzed more loudly. I saw a bright orange spark just as the room went black.

  I froze, listening.

  I heard nothing at first. I waited, my eyes adjusting to the blackness. The faintest light come from the doorway.

  I made my way there, worried I’d step on a pile of bones and they’d reach up and grab me. Through the door, the parking lot was equally dark. The parked cars were dark.

  I didn’t see Ronette.

  I looked at the cars, hoping to see someone in one of them, perhaps playing a radio or using a phone and offering a bit of light, but the only light that came was the periodic swath of headlines from the freeway as people passed by.

  I saw something move near Ronette’s car. I hurried over there.

  Ronette was leaning down. I heard her retch.

  “What is it?” I asked.

  She shook her head. “I saw a head go flying, like it had been lopped off. There’s blood…” She pointed at the ground but seemed confused when she couldn’t find any drops of blood around. Whatever she had seen was gone.

  “I think she’s gone,” I said.

  “No,” Ronette said. “I think she fled.”

  I said nothing, knowing she’d continue. Ronette nodded to the trees. There was no breeze. In fact, it was too still. The air felt almost humid, pregnant as it was with waiting.

  Lucy was out there. Where I’d need to finish it. I turned on my phone for a light, handing the sage to Ronette. I was pretty sure the iron knife had done the work but I couldn’t to leave my friend unprotected, or at least not completely unprotected.

  “I have stuff in the restroom I might need.”

  Ronette nodded, preparing to wait.

  I walked back to the restroom. I didn’t dread the walk the way I had earlier. In fact, it was almost easy. Almost, but not quite. My body still tensed, my insides shaking. I hated
the way the hairs on my neck stayed raised, telling me that someone was behind me, though I was fairly certain that no one was. I hated the stillness and the quietness of the night.

  But I had faced down my ghost and I had lived. She was still after me, but I knew I could survive another encounter.

  I used my phone to find my things, locating the lantern I’d taken with me. I turned that on to save my phone’s battery. The candles had all burned down so I packed them up, along with my salt. I left the restroom to go out to the woods and finalize the ceremony.

  “What about the cop?” I asked Ronette.

  “What cop?” Ronette asked.

  I nodded at the squad car that sat in the shadows.

  I carried the lantern and the iron knife. Ronette followed with the sage.

  “You don’t have to come,” I said. I wasn’t sure how I’d carry everything but I’d make do if I had to.

  “I need to see this through,” Ronette said. “The head sailed by but as it did so, something touched me, like a hand but it was so cold, I was sure I had frost bite on my arm. It makes me shudder just to think about it, like a really gross bug was crawling on your skin.”

  I pictured a tarantula crawling up my arm and tried to keep myself from shivering. Ronette knew how I hated spiders and I was glad she hadn’t given voice to that particular fear when she described her experience.

  We set off towards the path we had taken earlier. I hoped that we could find our way to the place Mercedes had found the bones.

  Walking was harder in the dark, even with the lantern. A few creatures scurried out of the way, but for the most part the night was silent except for Ronette and me traipsing through the underbrush. Everything seemed a little too loud, like we were trying to sneak up on someone and failing miserably.

  Suddenly it brightened to my right. Probably the lights from the rest area going back on. If there was an electrical problem, it was fixed. If it was Lucy, perhaps she decided there was no reason to leave the place in the dark.

  It seemed to take longer to get to the place where we’d stopped earlier, but perhaps I’d taken us in a few circles. Finally, though, I saw yellow police tape. The bushes had been pulled up and overturned. A hole had been dug. No bones remained, but I figured any that had been found had been taken to the morgue or wherever you take old bones found near a rest stop.

  I drew a breath. I heard Ronette do the same.

  It was cold there. Colder than it should have been. I turned.

  Ronette wasn’t behind me. Lucy was.

  36

  Traci: September Now

  I screamed. Short and loud and then cut off because my chest tightened and I had no air to scream again.

  Lucy was in her half decomposed look, her head tilted at a wild angle giving her the look of someone who had been nearly decapitated. Maybe that was exactly what happened. I didn’t know. However, it reminded me of what I’d done to her spirit when I’d lashed at her with my knife.

  My hands shook and I dropped the bag that I carried in the hand with the lantern. I searched around, hoping to see Ronette. I worried that she’d never really been there at all or worse, that Lucy had gotten to her as we walked through the woods.

  “Be gone,” I said. My voice shook. I no longer had any confidence. It wasn’t just me. It was Ronette I needed to save. Even if our conversation had been an illusion Lucy set up, that meant Ronette was in danger.

  “Make me,” Lucy said. Her skull grinned at me.

  Her hand reached out, a long boney finger, one scrap of brown skin still stuck to the edge and a nail that was partially broken on the pinkie finger. She tried to scratch me but I stepped back. I felt the flutter of the police tape behind my legs. The hole wasn’t far beyond and I hoped I didn’t end up falling into it.

  I nearly vomited. I’d be falling into Lucy’s grave.

  I held up the knife and swung it towards the arm but Lucy had already pulled back.

  She rushed at me, faster than I would have expected, going low, like she was after my gut.

  I swung the knife low. Felt it collide with something. I fell backwards, landing on my butt just beyond the police tape.

  I got to my knees, noting my bag wasn’t far. I didn’t see Lucy anywhere.

  I grabbed my bag hoping to find matches. I worked one handed in case Lucy came back for me.

  I had to try and pry open the bag and get my arm inside with one hand. The plastic wanted to stick together. Finally I had my arm in there. The candle was an easy find by the shape. I grabbed that and set it out on the ground.

  I grabbed the salt next. I poured that around, a small circle for me to sit inside, just in case it helped.

  Then I found the matches. To light them, I’d have to put down the knife for a minute. I looked around, waiting.

  The air was still but something moved in the brush near me. Tiny scurryings like small creatures, maybe a mouse. An owl hooted somewhere. I felt the slightest breeze against my neck. I breathed. Everything in the woods seemed normal.

  I put down the knife.

  I pulled out a match and struck it on the box. Nothing. I hit it again.

  This time it lit.

  I held it to the candle but a breeze came up and gutted it before it was lit.

  I tossed the old match and tried again. This time it lit on the first try, the flame burning bright in the darkness. I touched it to the candle. Once again a breeze came up just in time to gut the flame.

  Lucy didn’t want me to light the darned thing.

  That made me more determined than ever.

  I worked at it again and again, going through five matches before I was able to angle my hand so that the candle didn’t gut as soon as I lit it.

  Something ran at me, low, where I was kneeling.

  I held the candle and I pressed it towards the thing coming at me. I felt a rush of wind, but while the flame flickered, it didn’t go out.

  I turned to see if what might be behind me.

  Nothing.

  I stood up, still holding the candle instead of the knife and looked around. Nothing.

  I set the candle down near the grave and picked up the knife.

  “I’m sorry for all that was done to you,” I said. “I’m sorry you didn’t get a chance to live the life you wanted and deserved to live. I’m sorry you weren’t found, that it sounds like no one mourned you. I’ll mourn you and make sure you are remembered. Let your spirit be gone!”

  I didn’t know where the words came from. They were what I was feeling. I was both terrified of what Lucy was doing and sad for her. I was angry that I was in the line of fire, worried for Ronette, but still sympathetic to what had happened to the poor girl.

  “What the hell are you doing out here?” I turned to see a young man in a police uniform.

  “Just saying a prayer for the bones you found,” I said, hoping he hadn’t heard what I’d said and question me.

  “You’re beyond the police tape.” He didn’t seem happy about that.

  Just then the wind picked up. Really picked up and started shaking the leaves and the breeze. As suddenly as it started, it stopped.

  Silence. Even the creatures who had been scurrying away had gone silent.

  The officer noticed it. He licked his lips once. In the pale light of the lantern and his flashlight he looked a sickly yellow pale. His hair was plastered to his head as if he’d been out in the rain, or maybe he purposefully slicked it down, I wasn’t sure. He looked from side to side, his hand going to his gun, though he didn’t draw it.

  I looked around too, waiting.

  There it was. A hollow scream of the sort I’ve never heard before. I didn’t know how any voice could make such a sound.

  Lucy appeared at the edge of the trees. Her skull remained only partly tacked on her head. She rushed the officer.

  If he could have gotten any paler he would have. He backed up towards me, away from her. I leaped in front of him, wielding the knife. Lucy stopped.

 
“Broken circle. Bad little wanna-be witch,” she said. “Don’t think there haven’t been others trying to purify this space. It can’t be purified. I don’t want to be purified”

  “What the hell?” the deputy mumbled behind me.

  I didn’t turn. Lucy rushed both of us. I felt her push me into the deputy and he stepped back, into the hole. I fell with him, landing on top of him. Fortunately the knife was out front of me. Lucy stood at the edge of the hole, looking down at us. We weren’t that deep, perhaps a foot and a half.

  I scrambled off the deputy, holding the knife out towards Lucy.

  “Oh fuck… Oh fuck…” he was lying there. He rolled over. I glanced at him. Saw the white bone sticking up through the dirt. Saw the tear in side of his shirt, a small hole where the bone poked through.

  There wasn’t a ton of blood and he didn’t look as if he’d punctured anything.

  He was trying to get someone on the radio but all I head was static. Lucy stood there waiting.

  The deputy gave up and fired at her three times.

  Lucy rushed at us.

  I cut with the knife.

  The deputy kept firing at her, one bullet going so close to me I felt the heat of its passing along my arm. Just what I needed. A scared deputy who thought he could shoot a ghost.

  I held my ground with my knife, which I was certain was more deadly to her than the gun. Or perhaps not. But I knew I could hurt her form with it, though I didn’t know if I actually hurt her.

  The gun clicked on empty. Lucy reached for it, grabbing it in her hand, the skeletal fingers closing over it and then tossing it aside.

  The freaked out deputy grabbed the candle that sat near the side of the hole, just beyond where we’d tumbled in. He tossed it at her.

  I watched as the skeletal apparition went up in flames, lighting the rest of the woods on fire.

  “We need to go,” I yelled, pulling the deputy out of the hole with me.

  He climbed up easily, but then stood looking at the fire, glancing around, as if he were trying to decide if there was anything to fight the fire with.

  The flames burnt through the dryer brush that been uncovered when the police started digging. I watched as they burned as high as my waist and then began to die down. Still, it moved easily through the brush, a sort of crawl rather than a large inferno. That began when the flames hit the first of the pines.