“I struggled,” a little girl’s voice came from the back seat.
Richard almost jumped out of his skin. He knew who she was without looking too.
“Mary McDonald,” the little girl said.
Richard kept his eyes on the road and counted to ten.
“This isn’t real…This isn’t real,” he whispered to himself.
This couldn’t be real, because if this was real then the elevator was real.
“It was real,” the middle aged man said.
Richard looked over to see him sitting in the passenger’s seat, smiling at him. Richard yanked the wheel to the left and slammed his feet on the brakes. There was no reaction, the car just kept driving forward.
“What do you want from me?” Richard asked.
“Look in the backseat,” the man said.
“No,” Richard replied.
“What, you can’t stomach your own work?” The man asked.
Richard knew what he would see if he looked back there. Mary McDonald was the only time he had experimented with fire.
“Okay, have it your way,” the man said.
“Hey, I know this road,” Mary said, and now she was sitting next to him where the man had been. Richard looked over. She was badly burned. When he had grabbed her she had shoulder length blonde hair. Now she only had a couple of tufts here and there that just seemed to pop out of her red, flayed scalp in random places.
“Look, there I am,” she said and pointed out the window. Some of the skin from her finger stuck to the window after she pulled it away.
Outside the car, normal Mary was jump roping on the sidewalk.
“Why did you do this to me?” She asked and turned towards him.
This was the first time he saw the right side of her face and her right eye was dangling from its socket. The actual eye part was resting against what was left of her cheek. Richard’s chest felt like it was on fire. He took his hands off the wheel as everything started to spin. He closed his eyes and screamed, and the last thing he remembered was dead Mary laughing.
When Richard opened his eyes he was back in the elevator. He was curled up in the fetal position on the floor and someone was still laughing at him.
“You are the sorriest serial killer I have ever seen. I’m kind of disappointed that I came all of this way now,” the man said.
“What do you mean?” Richard asked, getting to his feet.
“I’ve watched you work your whole life and I thought a soul this vile, this dark, I would have to come collect myself, but I guess it’s true what they say. Never meet your heroes,” the man said.
“What do you mean collect?” Richard asked.
“You still haven’t figured it out?” The man asked.
Richard just looked at him.
“How is your chest?” The man asked.
Now that he mentioned it, Richard thought it hurt unlike anything he felt before. He looked down and saw blood seeping through his shirt now.
“Oh my God,” Richard said.
“Not quite,” the man replied.
“I’ve been stabbed,” Richard said.
“Now you remember,” the man replied.
“Who are you?” Richard asked.
The man stuck out his hand.
“Pleased to meet you, hope you guess my name,” he said.
“You’re the Devil,” Richard replied.
“High marks. You were stabbed fifteen minutes ago by a one, Andrew Johnson,” the Devil said.
“Johnson,” Richard repeated.
“Yes, I believe his eleven year old son, David, is currently chained to the work table in your basement,” the Devil replied.
“No, I don’t believe it. I’m not dead,” Richard said.
“No, not quite yet,” the Devil replied.
He pointed at the elevator door and it opened. Richard was shocked to see himself lying on the floor in a puddle of his own blood with a crowd of people around him. Andrew was standing over him.
“Where is my son?” He screamed.
“Basement… Nine seventy five Russell Street,” Richard watched himself whisper and then he saw himself die.
“Oh, how nice, but that won’t save you from me,” the Devil said.
“What now?” Richard asked and turned towards him.
The man looked different now. He had cat like eyes and deep ridges on his forehead. His mouth was full of razor sharp teeth. He closed the elevator door and laughed, and this time his voice was deep and demonic.
“What you’ve wanted ever since you got on,” the Devil said and pressed a button Richard would have sworn wasn’t there before.
“Going down,” the Devil said and laughed.
The elevator started to descend and Richard screamed the whole way down.
TIME IS ON MY SIDE
I
The sound of the alarm was like shrapnel penetrating deep into his eardrum. Will hadn’t even opened his eyes yet and he already knew that he wasn’t ready to deal with the day, not yet. Still keeping his eyes closed, he reached for the alarm clock blindly and brought his hand down on top of it, bringing peaceful silence back to his world. He repositioned himself and got comfortable again. Will knew he had time before he absolutely had to get up because just like everyone else he set his alarm for earlier than he needed. This was the first snooze hit; he still had two more before he had to get up. Just as he was starting to drift back to sleep he felt his wife, Claire, stir next to him. He smiled inwardly to himself today was her day. They alternated taking their five year old son, Grayson, to school every morning. Yesterday was his day so Claire got to sleep a little longer. Now today it was his turn. Will listened as she got out of bed and went to get Grayson up. The boy made the usual morning protests, he was like his father in that regard, but after a couple of minutes he complied. Will knew he did because he could hear him moving around now. He heard the sink turn on in the master bathroom that was just off of their bedroom and knew that was Claire brushing her teeth. At that moment there was a loud crack of thunder outside that made Will set up in bed.
“Woo it’s going to be fun out there this morning,” Claire said.
He looked over to see her standing in the bathroom doorway, her toothbrush hanging out of her mouth. Now the unmistakable patter of rain hitting the roof hard filled the room.
“You going to be alright, or do you want me to drive him instead?” Will asked.
“Yeah I’ll be fine. Besides it’s my day, get those couple extra minutes,” she said and disappeared back into the bathroom.
The next thing Will knew he could hear Grayson downstairs asking for cereal. He must have dozed back off but it couldn’t have been for long if he was just getting around to getting cereal. He looked over at the clock and confirmed his suspicions; it had only been about ten minutes. He laid back down and closed his eyes, he could still get another half an hour before he had to get up for work if he went back to sleep right now.
It was pouring when Claire and Grayson went to the car to leave. Claire loved the fact that their garage was connected to the house today. She watched Grayson get in and buckle up. He was very adamant about being allowed to buckle himself in without interference. They had a deal; she would let him buckle himself in if he let her check the belt when he was done without incident. She wondered if he her and husband had the same arrangement. Probably not, she thought to herself. Will would be perfectly fine with him buckling himself in and then just move on. He wouldn’t need to check.
“Good?” She asked.
“Yes,” Grayson replied.
Claire reached in and gave the belt a tug, making sure that it was nice and tight and setting where it should be. She made sure the belt ran down over his shoulder and not against his neck or face, and that the lap belt was secure around his thighs and not his stomach. When she was satisfied she closed the door and got in herself. She fastened her own seatbelt and started the car. She let out an audible sigh when she saw the gas gauge. They only had a
quarter tank of gas, nowhere near enough to get him to school and then her to work; they were going to have to stop.
“Damn it Will,” she said to herself.
He had the car last night to go to the grocery store and was supposed to fill it up when he was done. It must have slipped his mind, like it always did. She loved the man and he was good at a lot of things but the man never paid attention to the gas gauge. She opened her purse and checked to make sure she had her debit card before they left. That was Claire in a nutshell, always double-checking, always making sure that everything was as it should be. She knew she got it from her mother, that woman always had everything planned out down to the tiniest detail. Growing up she used to grill what she called the five P’s into Claire’s head. Prior Preparation Prevents Poor Performance. Her father was more like Will. Fly by the seat of your pants, roll with the punches and everything will work out. She pushed the button on the garage door opener and put the car in drive as the door rose. The rain was coming down harder now; it looked like a sheet of water. Visibility is going to be fun this morning, Claire thought to herself as she turned on the headlights and pulled out of the garage.
The morning’s drive had been uneventful even with all of the rain until it came time to stop for the gas. The only gas station in their little town wasn’t even in their little town; it was just outside of it. The BP sat on the corner of a T intersection. Claire came at it from the right. A left would take her into the next town, which was where Grayson went to school, and she worked. Going straight would take one to the interstate. She came to a stop at the intersection and then made her way across to the gas station. She pulled in and hopped out. It was going to be a quick affair, pay at the pump, get the gas and get gone. Having to make this extra stop was going to result in them cutting it close in getting Grayson to school on time. Claire finished up and got back in the car. She pulled to the edge of the gas station parking lot and put on her turn signal, unaware of what was about to happen.
Jasper Riley was having a good morning considering what the weather was like. His flight actually got in early and that meant he was going to get home early. He had spent the last week away from his family, splitting time between Singapore and Beijing, which is a two thousand seven hundred and seventy seven mile trip one way. He did it three times. He was thinking about this when he absentmindedly missed the stop sign in his black, four door SUV. He didn’t see the car that was pulling out of the BP until it was too late.
Claire looked both ways before pulling out of the gas station parking lot and there had been no other cars before she started to pull out. She was quite surprised when she looked over her shoulder again and saw the black SUV disregard the stop sign and come right for them. She reflexively gripped the steering wheel with both hands and flinched as she slammed on the brakes. Had it been a sunny day her tires would have gripped the road no problem. There would have been a hell of a squeal and the smell of burning rubber would have filled the air, but the car would have stopped, but today wasn’t a sunny day and the only thing her tires gripped were the water. The car hydroplaned right out of the parking lot and into the road, into the path of the SUV.
The sound of shattering glass and crunching fiberglass filled the morning as the two vehicles collided. Jasper Riley never saw his family again. Maybe if he would have had he been wearing his seat belt, but he wasn’t. He was ejected from his vehicle, his head shattering the windshield on his way out. His limp body flew a hundred feet through the air, landed on the soaked road and slid another fifty. He was gone before impact. Claire’s car slid sideways on top of the water until the tires finally caught and sent the car rolling end over end. It came to a rest on its hood twenty feet down the road. There was no movement from the car and outside the rain continued to come down.
Will woke up and turned his alarm off for the third and last time. He sat on the edge of the bed and let out a deep stretch before getting to his feet and heading to the bathroom. When he was done in there he got dressed and headed downstairs to grab some quick breakfast. When he got to the kitchen he saw the box of cereal that Grayson had for breakfast still sitting on the table.
“Well what’s good for the goose is good for the gander,” Will said to himself and went to get a bowl.
He made himself a bowl and was just sitting down to eat it when there was a knock at the door.
“Just a minute,” he said and took a quick bite as he got up.
Will opened the door and was greeted by two police officers that were completely soaked. It was still pouring behind them.
“Hello,” Will said.
“Hello, are you William Ward?” One officer asked.
“Yes I am, what is this about?” Will asked.
“Are you the husband of Claire Ward, and father of Grayson Ward?” He asked.
“Yes,” Will replied and it came out slightly hesitant. He suddenly had a bad feeling in the pit of his stomach.
“There was a car accident about a half an hour ago,” The officer started
“Are they alright?” Will asked.
“No sir, they are not,” The officer replied.
“How bad is it?” Will asked, covering his mouth with a trembling hand.
“I’m sorry sir, but they are both gone,” The officer said.
The world took on a hazy quality, the two officers looked like they were swaying from side to side in front of him. Will tried to breathe but it was like he forgot how.
“Sir, are you okay?” The officer asked and reached for him.
That was the last thing Will remembered.
II
Will awoke to the sound of thunder; it was storming again. It seemed like all it did anymore was storm. He reached for Claire’s side of the bed and his hand rested on the empty spot. She is never going to be there again, he chastised himself. This night was just like every other night for the past three months. He was in the dark and alone. He got out of bed and went into the bathroom. He turned on the light and stood in front of the sink. He looked in the mirror and didn’t recognize the man staring back at him. He had an unkempt beard and bags under his eyes. His skin looked haggard, like he had aged fifty years in three months. At least it was the thunder that woke him up tonight and not another nightmare. Once he had come to the officers had told him where the wreck had happened. As soon as he heard he knew it was his fault. If he had just remembered to fill the gas tank like he was supposed to they never would have been there. He made his way out of the bathroom and headed downstairs. There was no use being upstairs, the what if train had just officially left the station and he knew all of the stops. There would be no more sleep tonight.
Will turned on the television on his way through the living room as he made his way towards the kitchen. He heard an infomercial for something as he dug through the refrigerator looking for something to eat. He got out the milk and went to the cabinet above the sink. He opened it and it was filled with box after box of the cereal that Grayson had ate on his last morning. Will took one of the boxes down and poured some in his bowl. He topped off the bowl with some milk and made his way back to the living room. Will sat down in front of the television but didn’t really pay attention to what was on. He was more focused on listening to the storm that was raging on outside. It seemed like it had done nothing but rain since the day they died. He finished his cereal and took it to the kitchen, letting out an audible sigh as he did so. He wondered, not for the first time why he was still sticking around. His eventual suicide was always the topic of discussion during his little middle of the night sojourns. He sat down at the kitchen table with his empty bowl and rubbed his eyes. His wife and son were gone, his job was gone because he pretty much just stopped going. Will looked at the stack of bills that were accumulating on the table. He was sure there was at least one foreclosure notice for the house in there somewhere. Maybe tonight was the night. He could just get up right now, turn on the oven and stick his head inside. A couple of real good deep breaths and he would just go ba
ck to sleep and that would be it. Would they be waiting for him? He didn’t know, he didn’t really think of himself as a religious man but wasn’t there something about the souls of those who killed themselves being damned to limbo or some other such thing? He wasn’t sure, but the chance was too much and that was why he never followed through. If he wanted to check out early so he could be back with them and checking out early would prevent that then what was the point. So he was stuck here, without them. Alcohol could be a good alternative, he thought to himself. He could spend every day in a drunken haze and kill himself slowly over time, surely that wouldn’t count. He got up from the table and took his bowl to the sink. He stopped to look out the window that was over the sink just as a bolt of lightning lit up the sky and that was when he saw it. Across the backyard the door to the shed was open, and the light was on. Will didn’t bother with a jacket or shoes. He opened the backdoor and headed out into the storm barefoot. Maybe if I’m lucky I’ll catch pneumonia, he thought to himself. There had to be a reason people said you’d catch your death in reference to it. He made his way across the backyard and to the shed. He stuck his head inside.
“Hello,” Will said and stepped inside.
As soon as Will stepped inside the light went out. He reached over and tried the switch, up then down and repeat, and got nothing. He took a couple more steps inside. There was a hole in the roof, he could hear water dripping down on the concrete floor. The shed wasn’t very big. There was a workbench that ran along the back wall and the various tools that went with it. Everything else was clutter that was accumulated over the years and things of Grayson’s and Claire’s that he moved out here after the accident because he couldn’t bear to look at them, like Claire’s wedding dress and Grayson’s favorite super soaker. Every time he looked at it he was reminded of how excited Grayson had been to get it and all of the squirt gun battles they had. There were times where it seemed like Grayson’s favorite past time was filling that gun up and squirting everything in a ten mile radius with water. It drove Claire crazy, usually because she was part of what was getting squirted, even when she did point out how it wasn’t fair because she didn’t have a gun.
Night Terrors Vol. 1 Page 3