Tenants

by Christopher Motz

  "Things are different now. I have all the answers... not like it does me any good. Once you pass beyond the gate, you're no longer limited to your own mind. You become one with them, one with their queen. You know everything they know... you know about suffering. Endless, limitless suffering."

  "Please, leave me alone," Linda begged.

  "You're a broken record. Don't you get tired of hearing your own voice? Are you going to tell dear old Dad about the baby? Are you going to make him spend his last hours on Earth wondering where he went wrong?"

  "If I'm pregnant, it's because of YOU!" Linda screamed. "I didn't sleep with anyone else. It's yours, and I promise you will NEVER see your child. He will never know your name or that you even exist!"

  Christian laughed and rolled closer. "Do you hear yourself? You're talking to a dead man. How do you think I got here without arms or legs? They wanted me here, and whatever they want, they get. They even cut off my cock, so as far as I'm concerned, paternity really isn't in question."

  Linda felt like passing out. For the first time, she thought maybe she needed help, the kind she couldn't find at the bottom of a liquor bottle. Something had gone wrong in her brain, something that was causing these awful hallucinations. There was no other explanation.

  "I know what you're thinking," Christian said. "You're thinking you're having some kind of nervous breakdown, right? Everything that's happened since you moved into the Blackridge has finally caught up to you, and with your father knocking on death's door, you've come unhinged. Is that it?"

  "I've been under a lot of stress," she said, as if trying to convince herself. "Look at you, Christian. Nothing more than a talking head. A cartoon. It's actually quite funny."

  "Is it? I wonder if you'll be laughing when your baby starts chewing its way out of your womb. You have no one left, no one to talk to, no one to throw a baby shower and ply you with cute little baby shoes and butterfly mobiles. Al Sterling is going to split you open, take what he's put inside you, and give it to the queen so she can raise it as her own - raise it as a warrior to aid her in the upcoming war. She's not the only demon hiding in the shadows, but she's a nasty one, and she's waited far too long to take what's hers.

  "It really doesn't matter, though. If you live long enough to remember what has happened to you, it'll already be too late. You'll be one of them... one of the tenants. Brainless, hopeless abominations just doing what they're told so they don't get sent through the gate. You made a big mistake, little girl, and now you're going to pay for it!"

  Christian's wheelchair lurched forward as if being pushed by invisible hands. His limbless body bounced around in the chair like a lifeless doll, his lips peeled back in an imitation smile.

  Linda turned and ran with a scream rising in her throat.

  "Where are you going to run, Linda?" he shouted. "Even if you make it out of here, you're still trapped in the cage Al Sterling has built for you. There's no escape from them. No running away from your future. You were meant to find the Blackridge, and now that you have, you'll never leave."

  "STAY AWAY FROM ME!"

  "You'll never leave, Linda! Do you hear me? You'll walk those crumbling halls like a ghost until they have no use for you. Once they're done, they'll send you through the gate to feed the war machine. You're already dead and you don't even know it!"

  "LEAVE ME ALONE!"

  Linda turned a corner and ran into the vestibule for the bathroom. She feared these doors would remain closed just as all the others had. She pushed against the door for the women's bathroom and held her breath. It swung open easily.

  "What are you going to do in there?" Christian asked. "Flush yourself down the toilet?"

  She leaned with her back against the door, confident that she had a fighting chance of keeping her armless, legless ex-boyfriend on the other side. The wheelchair bumped against the door. Linda let out a breath and closed her eyes, hoping the nightmare would come to an end.

  "You're not dreaming, you silly bitch!"

  "GET OUT OF MY HEAD!"

  Linda had begun sweating and her hands had gone clammy and cold. There were no windows in the small room, no exit. She'd backed herself into a corner.

  "Are you still there, Linda? I think I can hear your teeth chattering."

  She clapped a hand over her mouth and tried to get herself under control. Tears streamed down her cheeks and over her fingers. A cramp had grown in her side and her right leg was numb from where it was bent beneath her. She hated feeling so helpless. So trapped.

  "I bet when you decided to dump me and set out for greener pastures, you never imagined such an outcome. I mean, how could you? You can't make this shit up!"

  "Even in my dreams you don't shut the fuck up."

  "Well, hey, it's your dream. If you want me to be quiet, just snap your fingers... or wiggle your nose."

  Linda pinched her eyes shut and imagined the hallway without Christian. She saw people walking around, talking, laughing. Bright sun spilled in through the windows and vanquished the shadows. After thirty seconds, she inhaled deeply, opened her eyes, and stood with her back against the door. The hospital was silent.

  "It can't be that easy," she said.

  Booming laughter answered from the other side of the door.

  "You really fell for that?" Christian asked. "You really are as dumb as you look."

  "GO AWAY, GODDAMMIT!"

  It only made Christian laugh harder as his wheelchair continued bumping and scraping against the door. Linda stared blankly as one of the bathroom stalls swung open with a squeal and a white form exited. She had nowhere to run.

  "Linny," a voice said. It seemed distant and hollow but was instantly recognizable.

  "Daddy?"

  "You have to get out of here. Don't worry about Christian, he can't hurt you anymore."

  "How did you get in here? What's happening?"

  "That's not important. What matters is that you're safe. You have to go."

  "But... what about you?"

  "Don't worry about me. My part in this is over."

  "Daddy, what are you talking about?"

  "You have to get rid of the baby. You can't keep it."

  "How do you know about that?"

  "It doesn't matter how I know. The only thing that matters is that it can never take its first breath."

  "You have to help me..."

  "I am. Now go."

  "But Christian..."

  "He's not your problem! GO! RUN! Get as far away from here as possible and don't look back."

  Linda turned and looked at the door, listening for movement on the other side.

  "Is he gone?"

  "Get out of here. NOW! While you have the chance. Forget you ever stepped foot in the Blackridge."

  "Will you be okay, Daddy?"

  When she turned to look at him, she was alone. The overhead light grew brighter, sizzled, and went out with a pop, leaving her in total darkness. The only sound was that of her own heavy breathing.

  "Go, Linda," she whispered. "Go."

  She burst through the door and into the empty hall where she quickly looked both ways to make sure Christian wasn't hiding nearby. She took a second to get her bearings and jogged towards the stairs. If she could just get the hell out of this hospital...

  "WHERE ARE YOU GOING, LINDA?"

  "You're not real, Christian. You're not here."

  "Let's see about that."

  Christian's wheelchair sped down the hallway like an out-of-control race car. The tires squeaked on the linoleum as his torso slid side-to-side in a pool of his own blood. Linda knew if she looked too long she'd never get her legs moving again. She turned and ran. The air felt thick and sticky. At this rate, Linda knew if she didn't find the exit soon, she'd be trapped.

  She turned the corner and nearly lost her footing as a hand reached out from a blood-stained gurney and grabbed at her clothing. She saw the small silver ring on the pinky finger and knew it was Theresa's, but she couldn't stop, not now that sh
e was so close to getting out of there.

  "Theresa! RUN! Christian is coming," Linda shouted.

  "He's not here for me, sweetheart."

  Linda looked over her shoulder and watched as Theresa sat up and stumbled from the bed, shambling toward her like a zombie. All that mattered was leaving this funhouse and getting as far away as possible. She burst through the door to the stairs, stumbled, and bounced down them on her back, coming to rest on the landing with blood slowly leaking through the back of her shirt.

  Miss? Are you okay?

  She heard a concerned voice, but there was no one there. Other voices joined it as shadows crept toward her, leaned over her, held out hands that were transparent and ghostly.

  "Get away from me!"

  Let me take a look at you.

  You've taken quite a fall.

  Linda screamed and struck out, expecting the shapes to break apart like smoke, but when her hand hit something solid, she became even more panicked.

  "It's not real! It's NOT REAL!"

  Once she reached the lobby, the air had grown electric. There was an energy, a muffled commotion like the sound of a crowd through a closed door. She bumped into solid objects she couldn't see, fighting through them with everything she had left. Her legs ached and her lungs burned. Grasping hands grazed her flesh.

  At the entrance, Christian sat in his wheelchair with a smile on his face and blood trickling from his nose and eyes. Theresa stood behind him with her fingers wrapped around the handles. Her face was swollen and twisted, her jaw hanging askew as if it'd been broken. She raised a hand to wave and followed Linda's progress with bloodshot eyes.

  When Linda got to the entrance and ran outside, she was blind to everything around her. People shouted after her, tried to stop her, tried to drag her back inside kicking and screaming. Strong arms wrapped around her midsection and dumped her in the back seat of a car with no markings or license plate.

  When she opened her eyes, everything was blurry.

  She couldn't keep the driver in focus.

  His face seemed to twist and twirl and melt over his skull like taffy.

  Hospital staff and patients crowded the hospital's entrance, watching as the car drove away and pulled into traffic.

  Someone else's problems were always more interesting than their own.

  A little boy grabbed his mother's hand and asked, "Is that lady crazy?"

  "No, honey. She's probably just having a bad day."

  He nodded, pulled an action figure from his pocket, and led her back inside.

  The people at Scranton Regional would have dinner-table stories for days to come.

  Chapter 16

  Linda rolled over and fell onto the floor on her hands and knees as a cramp dug into her guts. She barely had time to make it to the bathroom when she vomited a steady stream of greenish liquid that would have made William Peter Blatty raise an eyebrow. She wrapped her arms around the toilet and rested her head on the seat as she waited for her stomach to settle. Unlike most of her other strange dreams over the past few weeks, she remembered every detail of the latest one. The hospital. Christian. Theresa. Where were these nightmares coming from?

  She flushed the toilet and stood on legs that barely felt like her own. She stared at herself in the mirror, swaying unsteadily on her feet, looking for answers in the pale, lined reflection that gazed back at her. Her stomach gurgled. Sweat had broken out on her upper lip and her hair was damp and pasted to her skull in greasy strings. She listened as her cell phone rang in the living room.

  "Just go away," she said. "I can't take any more surprises."

  She saw her father lying in a hospital bed connected to machines, pumps, and wires. She remembered driving to Scranton to meet her mother. Her father wasn't part of the dream. That was real, wasn't it? When she was sure her legs would hold her, Linda walked into the living room and found her cell phone still tucked in her purse. As she picked it up, it rang again.

  "Mom? What's going on?"

  "What have you done?" she growled.

  "What... I didn't do anything. I just woke up."

  "Just woke up? Did you get a good nap? Did your meltdown at the hospital wear you out?"

  "Meltdown? Mom, you have to start making sense."

  "Don't you fucking talk to me like I'm an idiot."

  "I don't know what the hell you're talking about," Linda said.

  "You punched that poor doctor in the face. Broke his nose, Linda! Do you know how much begging I had to do to keep him from pressing charges?"

  "What doctor? There was no one there! The hospital was empty."

  "Are you listening to yourself?" Carol shouted. "Dozens of people saw what you did... running around and screaming like a crazy person. Is it drugs? Are you on drugs?"

  "I'm not on drugs. You weren't there. You didn't see what I saw."

  "Oh? What exactly did you see? I'd love to hear you explain it!"

  "I'm not going to sit here and listen to this bullshit. I don't know what you think happened..."

  "You just LEFT HIM!" Carol wailed. "Your own father."

  "He's fine, Mom. He's going to be okay. He told me he was going to be okay."

  "He told you? HE TOLD YOU? When was that exactly?"

  "What? I saw him..."

  "You saw nothing. Your father is dead, and you left him to die alone, surrounded by strangers!"

  "He's not dead, Mom."

  "Oh, good! I'd better go tell his doctors before they take him to the morgue."

  "Just... just wait there. I can be there soon."

  "How are you getting here? Huh? Your car is still in the parking lot at Regional. Who took you home, Linda? Your dealer? Your druggie friends?"

  "Would you stop saying that? I'm not on drugs! I'm home... my car is outside."

  "When you find it, let me know, because I'm fucking looking at it right now."

  Linda ran to the front door of the apartment and ran into the hall where she could get a good view of the street below. Her car had to be there. How else would she have gotten home?

  "Where the hell is it?" she asked.

  "Stop playing games," Carol said. "Please. Your father is dead. Did you hear me? Dead! There's no point coming here. It's over. How could you do this?"

  "I didn't do anything!"

  "That's right, you didn't! You're the same selfish little bitch you've always been, and your father allowed it. He bailed you out, gave you money, and for what? To have his only child run out on him when he needed you the most."

  "I don't... I can't..."

  "I hope it was worth it, I really do. Your free ride is over. I hope your friends can support you, Linda, because I'm done."

  "What are you saying?"

  "You're not welcome at my house. That's what I'm saying. I have to bury my husband, I might as well bury my daughter as well."

  "MOM!" Linda cried.

  "Don't Mom me. You're a stranger. I don't know who you've become and I don't want to. I'm going to contest the will, you know? I don't want you getting a single penny after what you've done. He could never see clearly when it came to you, but I see everything just fine. I'm not going to let you spend his hard-earned money on shit to put up your nose or shoot into your veins."

  "Would you please stop and listen to me?"

  "No. You have nothing to say that I want to hear. You're no longer my burden. Get clean, or don't, I don't care. Just don't show your face at my door looking for a handout. We're done."

  "Mom, please..." she shrieked, but Carol had already hung up. She tried calling back several times but her calls only went straight to voice mail.

  Linda felt like she would drown in her own tears. The world had gone insane, and no one had the common courtesy of telling her she'd be left alone to pick up the pieces. What had the Blackridge done to her? How could her life have fallen apart so easily and without warning? She had to get back to Scranton, had to see her mother, make things right... but how? Her car was an hour away, still parked in the
lot at Regional.

  "How did I get home?" Linda sobbed. "How could Dad be dead?"

  Her mind couldn't process the words, couldn't make sense of them. Everyone she'd ever loved had turned their backs on her and left her alone to deal with this by herself, and she had no idea how any of it had happened. Her mind was cloudy, dazed. The shattered pieces of the last few weeks swam around in her head but she couldn't make them connect. As soon as she managed to put the images together, they broke apart and spun away into the dark recess of her fractured mind.

  For the first time, Linda knew it wasn't everyone else that had gone crazy. It was her. It was this place. Something in the water or something in the air... the rotten stink of decay and the fake smiles of those who were leading her to her own damnation. The Blackridge was not of this world, not of any sane world. It was a scar on the face of the Earth, a blemish that would only grow blacker and more malignant as time went on. There were powers here much stronger than anything she could comprehend, and with the realization came focus.

  She had to leave immediately.

  She had to save herself from the evil that had tainted everything around her.

  "How could I have not seen it?" she asked. "How could I have not realized what was happening?"

  Every second she'd spent here had been one step closer to some final outcome.

  The apartment began to change. The Blackridge had gone insane and its madness burned within the walls like an infection.

  "Did you kill them?" she said. "My father? My friends? DID YOU DO THIS TO THEM?"

  The walls cracked and peeled open like flesh on a moldering corpse. The air grew thick and stagnant, making it harder to breathe. Whatever spell she'd been under since arriving here had finally broken, allowing her to see the reality. Her fear and sadness evaporated, replaced by a rage so intense she knew she could kill the first person who got in her way. She was leaving, and no one was going to stop her. Not this time.

  Linda quickly put on a pair of shoes, grabbed her wallet, and ran into the hall as pieces of the Blackridge twisted and collapsed around her. Terrified, horrible screams echoed down the corridor, seemingly coming out of thin air. She remembered what Lenny had said about the elevator, that it was the only way down from this floor, and she wondered if she had no other choice, would she be able to jump? The fall would undoubtedly kill her, but how could that be worse than whatever Al Sterling had in store for her?