“Hello Mrs. Taylor. You’re probably wondering what I am doing here,” I said.
She just looked at me blankly, it was like I wasn’t even there. I knew I was in trouble and decided to drop all pretenses. I took out the syringe and looked at her. It saw the syringe and I saw its eyes come to life. It could see me now.
“What are you going to do with that,” It asked me.
“Well hopefully it kills you,” I replied.
She looked at me for a moment.
“Wouldn’t that be murder,” she said.
“ I don’t think our laws apply to aliens,” I replied.
She hissed and leaped at me, she was fast, faster than I thought she would be. I barely got out of the way as I sidestepped to the left. Her momentum carried her past me, leaving her back open for attack. I could see the bulge under her shirt and went for it. She turned so fast I didn’t know what was happening until it was too late. Her backhand stung my cheek hard and split it open. I went sprawling backwards and the syringe flew out of my hand. It hit the floor and skidded into the corner. She was on me again before I could get up. She grabbed me and threw me face first against the stove. I reached out for something, anything to grab onto and that is when my hand found the pot.
“Sorry Mrs. Taylor,” I said and swung as hard as I could.
I caught her off guard. The pot hit the side of her head and made a loud ping sound. She fell face first and hit the table before going to the floor. I dropped the pot and retrieved the syringe. I checked for a pulse and found one but it was weak. I lifted her shirt and stuck the syringe into the bulge and depressed the plunger, after that I sat back and waited.
When Mrs. Taylor woke up the bulge was empty and sinking. She sat up and looked around. When her eyes found me I readied myself for the worst.
“Thank you,” she said.
I sat there shocked, not really sure that I heard her right.
“I remember everything. It was like I was trapped inside myself and couldn’t get out,” she said.
“Well you will be okay now. Go to the hospital to get checked out and drink lots of water,” I replied.
“I’m sorry I did that to your face, with you saving my life and all,” she said.
“It’s okay. I got even with a pot,” I replied.
Friday, April 15th
Last night I let Gordon know that his cure worked. We stopped at Becky’s this morning to check on her again. Then we were off to Beverly’s house fully intent on curing her too. Beverly’s mom Anne answered the door and was surprised to see us.
“What are you guys doing here?” She asked.
“We came to see Bev,” I said.
“Beverly went to school this morning,” she replied.
Gordon and I looked at each other and tried to hide our worry, we both knew what this meant.
“How, the last time I saw her she could barely move,” I said.
“Yeah and she wasn’t much better this morning, but she was insistent that she had to go,” Anne said.
“Okay we’ll just see her at school,” I replied.
Anne shut the door and we went running for my truck.
“You know what this means,” I said.
“It needs to jump,” Gordon replied.
The ride to school seemed to take forever. Beside me, Gordon was filling a syringe with salt water.
“Do you have a plan?” He asked me.
“We find her, you hold her and I give her the shot,” I replied.
We pulled into the parking lot and jumped out of the truck. It was a little after eleven; she would be in Ms. Jacobs class.
When I opened the door to Ms. Jacobs’ class she wasn’t happy. She looked at Gordon and me coldly.
“Why are you interrupting my class?” She asked.
“You have Beverly Thomas, they need to see her down at the guidance office,” I said.
“I’ll send her down when she gets back from the bathroom,” she replied and with that she shut the door in our faces.
“What now?” Gordon asked.
“There is only one girls bathroom on this floor,” I replied.
When we got to the bathroom there were two voices coming from inside. One of them was definitely Beverly’s and the other one sounded like it was in trouble. We ran inside to find that Beverly had a girl trapped in the corner.
“Beverly,” I said.
She turned to face me and when she did Gordon grabbed the other girl and got her out of there. I kept circling her until he got back.
“I don’t understand. The other alien was completely in control of its host. Why haven’t I seen you until now?” I asked.
“I was hurt in the crash. I only have enough energy to take over once until I heal, I had to save it to jump,” the thing said with Beverly’s mouth.
“Beverly I know you are in there. Listen to me, fight back, it’s weak. I have something that will make you better,” I said.
Beverly attacked and this time I wasn’t quick enough to get out of the way. She tackled me and took me to the ground. She opened her mouth and the thing started to slither out.
“As soon as this thing is out get some water in her,” I said.
It fell out of her mouth and pried itself into mine as her body went limp on top of me. Gordon grabbed her and pulled her over to the sink. I heard the water being turned on as I closed my throat and started trying to pull it out of my mouth. Gordon yelled my name and I turned towards him. He had a bag of salt in his hand and he threw it to me. I pried my mouth open and dumped the whole bag in. Steam started pouring out of my mouth accompanied by a high pitched screeching sound, as the thing started violently flopping around. It flung itself out of my mouth where it hit the floor and continued to wriggle as it steamed. I spit a clump of salt into my hand and smashed it down on top of it just to be sure. As I started throwing up I heard Beverly start coughing. When I was done I got up and went to her.
“I could kiss you,” she said barely above a whisper.
“I wouldn’t do that just now,” was my reply.
Beverly was taken to the hospital and treated for acute dehydration. She is going to be alright but the Doctor informed us that we cut it real close getting her there when she did. Me, I don’t think I’ll ever want to eat again and Gordon, well he is still Gordon, and that about does it for this journal. I’m going to lock it away. If anyone were to read this they would think that I’m nuts, but like I said at the beginning. All of this really happened. I assure you.
THE CARVER
“All because I forgot to lock the door,” Mary thought. Surely forgetting to do something that simple couldn’t lead to this, but there it was. She sat in the chair at the kitchen table covered in sweat and blood, and pretty much unable to move. The knuckles of her left hand were bone white as she held the butcher knife in a death grip, its blood coated blade resting against her leg. Her right hand, pretty much unusable at this point. She could see him staggering through the front yard, getting closer to the front door but still she didn’t move. She watched him like a hawk. Her eyes stung with sweat but she couldn’t be bothered to wipe it away. He was on the front porch now, he sang as he got closer to the door. How he could still be singing at this point Mary did not know. What she did know was that it was dark and sinister.
I like to cut with my knife
I like to cut deep
Now be a good little girl
And don’t make a peep
She felt the blood still running out of her right hand, warm and sticky. Then to make matters worse her bladder let go. Still she didn’t move. She just waited for him to come and looked back on how this normal babysitting job had went terribly wrong tonight.
3 Hours ago
Mary was looking forward to a nice quiet night alone with the television. She had put the boy to bed about an hour ago and the parents never gave a set time for when they were going to be home. The forty-six inch High Definition television in the living room was an excellent perk that s
he got to enjoy as the babysitter. She pulled back the curtain on the front room window and looked outside. It was still snowing, had been ever since before she got here. She looked over at her tiny, blue car and saw that it was covered. If this kept up it wouldn’t matter what time the parents got home because she would be spending the night. Behind her the phone rang. She turned from the window and headed for the kitchen, brushing her black bangs out of her face as she went. She picked up the phone and noticed that the pot of water she had put on the stove was boiling.
“Hello,” she said.
She listened while the person on the other end of the line spoke.
“Is it really that bad there? It isn’t quite that bad here yet. Don’t worry I can do that, it is not a problem. Okay, I’ll see you tomorrow sometime,” she said and hung up.
She picked up the phone and dialed another number.
“Mom,” Mary said when she answered.
“I’m not going to be home tonight. The Ritter’s are stranded at the conference because of the storm. It is starting to get a little bad out this way too. So I will see you tomorrow sometime ok, bye mom,” she said and hung up.
Mary turned from the phone and went back over to the stove. She opened the box of spaghetti noodles she had sitting on the counter and added it to the pot of boiling water.
“Ten minutes until spaghetti,” She thought to herself as she went into the living room and turned on the television. As she settled in to find something to watch she thought she faintly heard sirens in the distance. She couldn’t tell if they were coming closer or moving farther away. She decided that it didn’t matter either way as she started clicking through the channels.
#
Mary came back to the present to see that he was still standing on the front porch just outside of the front door. She didn’t know what he was waiting for but part of her just wanted him to come on so they could get it over with. She looked over at the clock on the wall and struggled to stay conscious.
“That’s right. Come on in so we can end this,” she thought to herself.
“You know there is only one of two ways this can end right?” Her own voice replied.
“One of us or maybe both of us die,” she thought back.
“What makes you think it will be him?”
“I have the knife,” she thought.
“And, this won’t be the first time you stabbed him tonight. You are going to die,” her voice answered back and she thought it sounded almost mocking.
“That is probably unavoidable now,” she thought back calmly and this time the voice had no response.
2 hours ago.
The sirens rushed past the house. Mary jumped up off the couch and went to the window. She got there just in time to see four or five police cruisers go screaming by. She didn’t know how they managed to stay on the road in this storm, which had got progressively worse since the last time she had looked. Something major was going on, that much she was sure of and her mind drifted to the asylum the next county over and her heart skipped a beat. The county line was five miles from here and the asylum wasn’t too much further than that. She looked over at her car again, it was completely covered. She turned to leave the window and something caught her eye.
Footprints in the snow.
Mary checked the window to make sure it was locked and then she locked the front door. When that was done she went into the kitchen and made sure all of those windows were locked also. She was on her way to check the backdoor when the phone rang again, causing her to jump damn near out of her skin. She picked up the phone, her hand shaking a tad.
“Hello,” she managed to get out.
“Is everything alright out there?” Mr. Ritter asked. He was on his cell phone in the hotel lobby. He had one finger in his ear, trying to drown out the noise coming from inside the bar behind him.
“Yeah, everything is fine,” Mary replied.
“You don’t sound fine. Mr. Connors called and said something about police rushing out towards our place. Is Scott alright?” He asked.
“Scott is fine, the police rushed past here too, heading towards the county line. You don’t think something is going on over at the asylum do you?” She asked. She knew he would have no way of knowing but she could use some reassurance.
“I’m sure it’s nothing for you to worry about. It’s storming outside so there might have been an accident. Just lock all of the doors if it will make you feel better. I’ll call back to check on you in a while,” he said.
“Okay,” Mary replied and hung up the phone.
1 hour ago
Mary felt a little bit better after she got off the phone with Mr. Ritter. He was probably right about there being an accident. She had locked everything up before he called so she was good on that front. He was also right about nothing at the asylum concerning her. It was a good eight miles away and the police were already there if that was the problem. The worst thing she could think of was that someone had escaped, but eight miles was a long way to go, especially in a storm like this. She put some more water in the pot and put it back on the stove, her spaghetti a distant memory. A nice mug of hot tea would go a long way in soothing her nerves. Then she would get engrossed in something on the television and she would forget all of this nonsense, and then she would drift off to sleep. She had done it here a million times. She had just sat down on the couch when her cell phone vibrated in her pocket. She dug it out and looked at the caller ID.
“Hey Kate, what’s up?” She asked.
“Turn on the television,” Kate said.
“What channel?” Mary asked.
She picked up the remote and changed the channel, the news was on.
“This is Greg Lennon for Channel Thirteen News coming to you live from the lobby of the Grand Falls Institution for the Criminally Insane. Once again, for those just tuning in. Notorious serial killer Robert Holmes, also known as The Carver has escaped.”
“Kate, I have to go,” Mary said.
She slowly stood up and her phone fell to the floor. She was numb all over. She took an unsteady step towards the television and stopped. Her mind went back to the footprints she saw outside. She didn’t know what to do. There was a million things going through her mind, she tried to slow it all down, pick one thing and focus on it but it wasn’t working. On the television, Greg continued to report.
“No one noticed that Holmes was missing until lights out. He didn’t socialize and spent most of his time in his room so everyone assumed that was where he was. There is no way of telling whether or not he got out before the storm or in which direction he went. The police are advising anyone that lives within a ten to fifteen mile radius to stay inside and lock their doors tonight,” he continued.
“Lock the doors,” Mary latched onto that. She was pretty sure that she had already locked everything up but there was no problem with double-checking. Once again her mind went back to the footprints outside. They had to be his didn’t they, who else’s could they be? Mr. Connors was the closest neighbor and he lived a mile down the road so she highly doubted he was outside walking around. She went back to the window and looked outside, the footprints were gone, long since covered with new snow. She turned from the window and headed for the kitchen.
“The police are advising people not to panic. Locking your doors is really only a precaution. If he got out before the storm they think that he is long gone. In case he didn’t, the police will be making rounds all night,” she heard Greg saying in the background. She saw that her water was boiling. She felt a chill and rubbed her arms to warm back up. She turned towards the back door to check the lock and stopped dead in her tracks. Her heart leapt into her throat, and for a split
second she forgot how to breathe. The back door was open just a crack. Every instinct she had told her to run, every muscle in her body screamed for her to do it but she didn’t, Scott was asleep upstairs. She took a deep breath to calm her racing heart as she slowly approached the back door.
&nbs
p; Behind her, the pantry door started to open.
She pushed the backdoor shut and locked it when she turned around she screamed and took a step back. He was standing there, in the middle of the kitchen. He was at least six foot one, easy. He was wearing an all-white jumpsuit. He had short, brown hair and kind of a baby face. He was smiling at her but the smile didn’t reach his eyes. His eyes were empty of any feeling and it made him look more terrifying. He had a butcher’s knife in his right hand, and he was taping the blade against his leg. She looked over at the counter and saw the knife rack was missing one.
“It’s been so long,” he said.
Her mind was in a tailspin. Tons of questions just kept coming out of nowhere. How did he get in? How didn’t you hear him? The most important one however was, what are you going to do? She didn’t know what to do; she couldn’t do anything. She wanted to run, to scream, to do anything but her body wouldn’t cooperate. She couldn’t stop staring at his empty eyes. She was like a deer caught in the headlights and he was looking at her like a predator looks at its prey.
“Sooooo long,” he whispered.
“Oh yes, you look like one of my girls, but you aren’t quite there yet are you?” He said as he took a step forward. He held the knife up and smiled.
“But that is nothing that a little cosmetics can’t fix,” he said and giggled.
“Oh Jesus, he is completely bat shit crazy,” she thought. You better get moving girl or you are going to die. She glanced back over at the stove and saw her pot of boiling water. If you are going to do anything now would be the time she thought as he took another step forward. Without another thought she ran for the stove and he lunged.
For Mary it felt like everything was happening in slow motion and the stove seemed so far away. Her heart was beating so hard she thought it was going to rip out her chest. Every hair on the back of her neck was standing on end. It was like every nightmare you ever had as a child. There was something evil behind you and it was going to get you, and when it did it would drag you back to its evil place and you would never be seen again. She didn’t look back because also just like the nightmare, if you looked back it was all over. If she looked back she would see his maddening eyes and evil grin and he would look like every monster that she was ever afraid was in her closet or lying in wait under her bed. The monster that every kid was sure was in their room. The one that waited for your parents to tell you that it was alright and then turn out the light, and then when they were gone it would come and devour you. She focused on the pot handle and felt her hand close around it. She held it tight and spun. There he was right behind her, knife raised, ready to bring it down into what would have been her back. He looked just as horrible as she knew he would. The scalding hot water flew from the pot and nailed him right in the face. He shrieked and dropped the knife. It clattered to the floor as he bought his hands up to his face. It was steaming and she could see that some of the skin had already started to blister. Before he could react she picked up the knife and stabbed him in the side. He fell backwards over the kitchen table, hit the floor and was still. Mary just stood there in the middle of the kitchen holding the bloody knife out in front of her, shaking uncontrollably. Every muscle in her body was wound to its tightest point. Her breaths were coming in short, ragged clips. She knew she had to get her breathing under control or she was going to hyperventilate and pass out. She took a deep breath and counted to ten. When she calmed down enough she picked up the phone and dialed 911.
Night Terrors Vol. 1 Page 6