It reached for the frozen knob and stopped after a quarter turn. It felt something, a slight fluttering outside. It opened its eyes wider and the yellow pupils emerged, it suspected what was beyond the door. Something in its mind showed it a blurred image, it caught a shadow for a split second but then it was gone. Turning the knob all the way now, it pulled the door open and stepped outside in the bright starch whiteness of winter.
The shadow returned but was now covering its face. Flailing about, the wings of the black bird confused the creature long enough for it to puncture one of its bulging eyes. Yellow liquid gushed out from the eye, the creature screeching in pain. The crow clawed at it until both eyes had popped. Bleeding out more of the yellow liquid, it splattered across the yellow snow.
A loud rustling sound from the brush spooked the crow and it flew away, perching itself on a tree, out of sight.
As the man lay there, he recalled briefly all the horrible things he had done to so many animals and people. Unable to see, his heart pounded hard in his chest as he heard fast approaching footsteps crunching the snow. The growling noises from whatever was now sitting atop the man were followed by the sounds of flesh being torn away from the eyeless face. He could feel fur against his flesh as he was torn apart. This thing had a familiar scent and he now knew it was the creature that got away, one that had been reborn by yellow fungus somehow. These thoughts quickly dissipated as his mind quieted and his body would be put through a most agonizing death.
* * *
Trembling from the cold, but mostly from the fear that had set deep within her, Maggie collapsed onto the local municipal stairs that also housed the small Oakwood Island police department. She had trekked about two miles from the trailer where she had been held captive. As the morning daylight crept slowly across Maggie’s face, the pulsating glow steadily diminished from her eyes. Her mind raced with thoughts of fear that she would be found again by the monster.
There came a pounding inside of her skull so fierce that she slouched her shoulders forward, her forehead hitting the cold and icy steps. Not being able to keep her focus on any one thought for too long, she went from a state of panic into a deep slumber. Her last thought before she exhaled deeply made her shudder as she slipped into unconsciousness. “What if I become like him?”
Officer Ryan McGregor was the first to arrive to work that morning. As he approached the front entrance, he spotted a body lying on the steps. He recognized that it was Maggie, who regularly served him breakfast at the Old Mill Restaurant. He carried her inside and called for an ambulance. This defining moment to save a life would cost the community of Oakwood Island many, many more.
Chapter 2
Hidden Truths
January
Officer Ryan McGregor made his way down Main Street in his police cruiser. He had spent most of his day on paperwork, following Maggie’s arrival at the station that morning. Heading towards the hospital, Ryan quietly hoped she would be in a better state and able to answer some questions for him. Who had held her captive? Where? And if there was any reasoning to such an act, why? Still deep in thought, Ryan parks his cruiser in the shadows of the trees. As he makes his way to the front entrance, he is startled by a crow’s caw. The crow standing but a mere few feet away stares at Ryan intently before cawing again and flying off, landing on his car. Ryan can feel the bird staring at him as he walks inside the hospital.
“Doctor Kingsley,” Ryan called, spying the doctor down the hall. “How is Maggie? Is she awake?”
Dr. Kingsley had been studying the contents of a folder that sat on the counter of the nurses station. He continued reading quietly, studying the file for another minute or so. Ryan continued approaching the counter, hesitantly now. Just as Ryan was thinking maybe he should just go find Maggie in her room, the doctor closed the folder and looked up at Ryan, turning his body to face him.
“I was just taking a look at some of her test results, actually.”
The doctor took off his large glasses and rubbed the rim of his nose with his thumb and index finger, massaging away a headache, no doubt. He put his glasses back on before continuing.
“Maggie is in a very fragile state. She has been in and out of consciousness since she was brought in this morning. Some physical symptoms seem to point to a bacterial infection, perhaps meningitis or something of the sort. Her test results show no sign of infection though. We have her scheduled for an MRI within the hour, and a subsequent CT scan if the MRI shows nothing. However, her mental state is what worries me. She seems to be under the impression that a monster attacked her. Not a man. Not a person…but in her own words, ‘an evil monster with glowing eyes.’”
Ryan looked at Doctor Kingsley for a moment, unsure what to make of things. He placed his hands on his hips, and replied with what he hoped sounded like sincere concern and not ridicule.
“Does she seem, normal to you? I mean, you’re a medical doctor…but does she seem stable, emotionally?”
The doctor opened Maggie’s file folder again and shuffled some paperwork. He pulled out a page from the pile, yellowed with time, and on which appeared to be typewritten text.
“The only documented report of her ever being not stable was when she was around nine years old. She had been brought to the hospital with a fever and had made some claims of a witch coming to her in her dreams. It was a short bout of nonsense from an orphaned little girl, seeking attention. The attending physician back then prescribed some mild sedatives for her to sleep better and it was never brought up again. As for her recent emotional state, that is not something I can say for sure. The nurses tell me she seems to be fine one minute and the next she is talking nonsense about a monster. If you want to go see her yourself, you are more than welcome to. But I can’t guarantee that you will get concrete answers from her at this point in time.”
Ryan looked across the hallway where the door stood ajar. He nodded his head in that direction.
“Is that her room?”
Doctor Kingsley nodded yes, walked the few steps across the hall and placed Maggie’s file in the holder that hung next to the doorframe. Stepping into the doorway, he pushed the large door open all the way and waved the officer over.
“Indeed it is, Ryan.”
The young woman that slept in the hospital bed did not look like the waitress that Ryan remembered serving him breakfast so many times before. As Ryan approached her bed he noticed the bruising around her wrists. She had been held captive, no doubt in his mind and this only proved her claims; no matter how crazed and disoriented she seemed. The doctor slid in next to Officer Ryan, standing at the foot of the bed. He lifted the soft white cotton blankets and pointed to her ankles.
“She has bruising on both her ankles too. There is a small puncture hole in her neck. Come, I’ll show you.” The doctor dropped the blanket onto Maggie’s legs and feet again. Ryan stepped up behind the doctor as he pushed back Maggie’s long hair. There was a small puncture in her neck, with dark bruising circling around it. “There are more, older ones on her arms and legs.”
“Do you know what he, or they injected her with?” Ryan gazed up at the doctor, asking his question, he already knew he would have no answer, else the doctor would have already told him.
“We ran some tests but so far we only found some strange plant enzymes in her bloodstream. If she is the type to go gathering edible plants in the forest and eating them without looking up their characteristics or side-effects, it may explain a lot of her stories. Chalk it up to hallucinogens. That’s my theory so far. We sent some of her blood samples to the Mainland to get further testing done. Detective Burke has been assigned to Maggie’s case, by the way.”
Ryan’s gut told him something was wrong. This kind of thing didn’t happen on Oakwood. Looking at Maggie, he made a silent promise to himself and to her that he would do everything in his power and control to get to the bottom of who was responsible for t
his.
“Will you let me know if anything new comes up, or if the lab results come in with anything worth mentioning?” Ryan zipped up his jacket as he started walking out into the hallway with the doctor.
“Of course, Ryan. You will be the first to know.”
With a quick wave of his hand, the doctor slipped into the next room to cater to another patient while Ryan made his way to the hospital entrance.
* * *
Maggie could feel someone staring at her before she ever managed to open her crusty eyelids, the pus that had been forming among her own natural tears now drying and forming a yellow rind along the lids. Kicking her feet about in the bed and her hands reaching out to rub the disgusting thick gunk off her eyes, she managed to pull apart one eye lid and peer out into the dimly lit hospital room. Panic set in, her recent kidnapping fresh in her mind, she screamed out as she saw someone standing at the foot of her bed. Her adrenaline rush resulted in her other eyelid to crease open slowly, filaments of yellow pus attached to her eyelashes, blurring her vision. She pushed herself up to a sitting position with her feet.
“Who’s there? What do you want?” Maggie asked to the silhouette at her feet.
From the shadows, there appeared a red haired woman. The witch Maggie had seen so many times since her childhood. But normally she had come to her in dreams. Maggie’s heart started racing and the monitor she was wired to began screaming loudly that something was wrong. The red haired woman dissipated into thin air as the footsteps of the night shift nurse made their way closer to Maggie’s room. The hallways’ light cast its brightness upon Maggie and she let out a small yet panicked scream, her eyes hurting from the sudden brightness.
“Why is this happening to me?” Maggie yelled at the nurse. “What did he give me?”
The nurse, obviously perplexed by Maggie’s questions, pressed a button on the monitor and turned to her patient.
“I wish I could help you understand. We are still trying to determine that ourselves, deary. Why don’t you lay back down? I can bring you something to help you sleep.”
Maggie hesitated for a moment, her hands forming into fists, she felt her rage mounting and her breathing getting shallow, like the entirety of her sanity rested on this one nurse. She felt the urge to grab her and squeeze her small neck, making her feel exactly what she was feeling. The panic she was feeling.
Sensing her change of demeanor, the nurse took a few steps back and walking towards the door she called out, “I’ll see what I can find out for you.” She nearly bolted from the room.
Maggie slumped back down into her bed, perplexed at her outrage and her anger. She had never had a reaction like that before. What was happening to her, she wondered. How could she go from being such a docile and reserved young lady to a rage filled and angry woman? She knew the experiences she had just had at the trailer played a part. Some kind of traumatic response to the immense stress she had been exposed to. However, it did not explain her wanting to strangle the poor nurse.
Maggie laid her head back down just as another wave of crushing pain started on one side of her head, atop her right ear and all the way down to her chin. She felt a crushing sensation along her jaw. Her mouth, which had gone dry just moments prior, filled with a metallic and wet taste. Grabbing the box of Kleenex on the side table next to her bed, she spit into one, and her eyes grew wider with fear before she fainted.
When the nurse came back in the room to bring her a shot of Demerol to help Maggie sleep, she was stunned to find a blood soaked Kleenex, with five of Maggie’s teeth. Looking up, the nurse gasped as she saw Maggie’s mouth hanging open, blood and yellow pus oozing out of her body at an alarming speed.
* * *
The Old Mill Restaurant was the only real dining establishment on Oakwood Island. Not only was there no real competition for the patrons to try, but there was no need for one. It was the place where families met on Sundays after church for lunch. Where the kids would meet for a quick milkshake and fries, or the young moms would meet up once a week for a break from their responsibilities. It was where the men sat for their coffee and chats of politics and hockey in the early hours when most of the town was still asleep. The restaurant held that special feel to it, where you didn’t only go to eat and drink, but to make and share memories.
This was one of the things that Shelley loved about being a manager in the diner. She had come from the Mainland over a decade prior, and had been hired as part time help in the kitchen. From there she had waitressed and eventually became the day shift manager. Because she was Maggie’s direct supervisor, Officer Ryan decided she would be a good person to question about Maggie’s demeanour prior to her disappearance.
He sat down on one of the counter stools, took his hat off and placed it on the hook underneath the counter, knee-level. Shelley made her way over to him with a pot of coffee in one hand and coffee mug in the other.
“You’re late for supper, darling.”
Ryan’s lip curled up on the right side, his crooked grin she always got weak in the knees for every time he came in. She placed the mug on the counter in front of the young officer and poured the hot coffee for her most handsome (to her) customer.
“Well, coffee is all I need. That and I’m sorta here on business.” Looking up, he saw Shelley place a hand on her hip.
“No doubt about what happened to Maggie? We wondered why she never showed up for her shift. It’s not like her at all to miss work and not call to let us know.” Shelley looked up at the few customers that were sitting in the dining room and nodded towards them before going on, “The stories swirling around. You should hear some of these people’s theories!”
“Actually I’m wondering if you had noticed any kind of change in Maggie recently. Did she talk about anyone she was seeing or did she seem different to you at all?”
Shelley turned and placed the pot back on the warmer. When she turned to face Ryan, he could tell she was worried about her waitress.
“No, I can’t say that I remember anything like that. She was her usual self. The only thing that I can say is that she had been really digging to find her biological parents lately. She kept going on about it. I can’t see how that would be connected though.”
“I don’t either, but at this point we can’t dismiss anything. Did she say if she spoke with anyone recently regarding her birth parents?” Ryan sipped the black brew as Shelley wiped down the counter and answered him.
“No, she just had been looking up information online and at the town records office. She seemed to be convinced she was gaining ground at finding out who they were. I tried to keep her level-headed. Those documents are sealed and usually never reopened unless there is a good reason.”
Shelley made her way across the dining area where two regulars, Nancy and Robert Stuart, had just been seated. Once their drink orders were taken and they had been served their menus, Ryan stood up and walked to their table.
“I’m really sorry to interrupt you folks, but I figure it would be less disruptive if I came to talk to you now, before you order. Would you mind?”
They both shook their heads no, but it was Nancy that answered, “Not at all Ryan. What can we help you with?”
Ryan noticed the small gift bag on the fourth and empty chair, and figured their outing was a celebration of sorts. It made him feel bad for interrupting them, but his job often came with untimely situations and awkward conversations. He just bit the bullet and did what he needed to do.
“I know you two come in here sometimes and that you know Maggie a bit right?”
“Yes, Maggie took some painting classes from me a few years ago. She’s a real nice girl but she always painted really dark and scary stuff though. She said something once about a witch that she remembers from her dreams as a child.” Nancy paused and looked distraught for a brief moment before composing herself. “Is she in trouble?”
Ryan had assumed they knew from the way Shelly spoke but now he had to decide how much or how little he should divulge. He didn’t want to sabotage any kind of lead he could get, but he didn’t want to compromise the investigation either. He judged it best to let them do most of the talking. He was sure they’d be getting an earful from Shelley once he left anyways.
“She’s not in trouble, no. But she is in the hospital and we are trying to figure out what happened to her, and what kind of state she had been in over the last little while. Have either one of you seen or spoken to Maggie in the past week or so?”
“No, I can’t say I have,” Nancy turned to look at her husband, who also shook his head no. “I hope she’ll be alright. Last time I saw her was at least a month ago when I came in for coffee with Gertie. She seemed her usual and friendly self then.”
Just then Shelley arrived with the couple’s drinks.
“Are we ready to order here?” Shelley shot a glance at Ryan that screamed at him to leave the customers alone. He knew her well enough by now to not push her buttons. He put his hat on and nodded at the couple.
“Thanks for your time, folks. Call the office if you remember anything.”
With that said, Ryan walked to the diner’s large wooden doors, and swung one open. The swirling snow that had started falling quickly scattered into the restaurant and melted as soon as they hit the welcome mat at the entrance.
* * *
The next logical place to check for clues as to whom or what attacked Maggie the night before would be her home. Ryan made his way through the small coastal town in his cruiser while scanning the streets. Not really sure what he was looking for, he felt on edge and his anxiety levels were rising.
He parked the cruiser on the side of the street in front of the apartment building that Maggie called home. The wind picked up and the snow that had already started accumulating on the street swirled about his boots. The apartment building had no security features. There was really no use or reason for them, seeing as the community was so small and close knit, it had never been a necessity.
Oakwood Island Page 3