by J. L. Hickey
“We’re okay entering,” Aaron unlocked the front door. “I got a voice mail during that intense convo you two had. Detective Pike said I was allowed back into my place. So, we’re fine now. Said I could remove the tape.”
“Oh, good,” Haylee answered.
Lydia calmed herself. She readied her mental state before entering Aaron’s home. This was not like Lydia. She was usually cool, calm, level headed. She noted when she and Jeanie drove up to the duplex that she sensed something dreadful nearby. The residue of something unique outside Haylee’s home. During the interview, as Haylee went through her deepest secrets, Lydia could sense the energy growing stronger. A lingering aroma, a stench of death. Not strong enough for her to tap into, but it was there, evident that something was afoul. She needed to be closer to it, narrow the hot spot down. She had a good idea where that was. Aaron’s apartment could be the epicenter of the lingering energy she was feeling.
“Shit, there goes my deposit,” Aaron entered first. He led them into the living room, where the majority of the scuffle ensued. The room was as they left it, lamps toppled over, a massive dent in the plaster of the wall, like a small crater. Even the blood spots remained on the carpet.
“Can we enter?” Lydia asked, following behind Aaron and Haylee.
“Yeah, come in. Man, that asshole did a number on my place,” Aaron frowned, he held the door open for the women.
Lydia followed in behind Haylee warily. She always took investigations cautiously. But in all her years of experience (over two decades worth) couldn’t prepare for what was about to happen. She hadn’t walked three feet into Aaron’s living room before she was hit with a wave of malevolent energy. She was knocked back like a rag doll, flung off her feet and tossed outside of the house.
Lydia fell hard on her back. Her stomach immediately retched. She crawled out onto the snowy lawn, trying to escape from the home, vomiting violently along the way, leaving a trail of stomach bile behind her. Her body temperature spiked, she broke into a sweat that drenched through her clothes. Her skin turned clammy; her face went white as a ghost. She heaved in between the spasms of her stomach. Her head flooded with a whirlwind of emotions. Anger, rage, and the most intense hunger and thirst she’d ever known. She was being overrun with dreadful emotions. Abhorrent, revolting sensations of bloodlust pounded her brain like a four-year-old on a drum set.
“Fuck!” Aaron jumped back. He’d never seen a human tossed so violently from thin air. It looked like an unseen vehicle struck her. One minute she was behind him, the next she was gone. He ran outside to her aid. Lydia was quivering, seizing in the snow. A horrible noise came from her. It was awful, demonic.
“Lydia!” Aaron panicked. “Help me with her!”
“Jesus, okay…” Haylee snapped out of it. The site of Lydia’s body being tossed and the violent aftermath froze her in fear.
The two of them tried to embrace Lydia. She fought them, screamed, clawed at them both. She was still suffering some sort of seizure. Still projecting stomach bile as she fought them both. They struggle to contain her. It seemed to last forever before the fight went out of Lydia. The seizure stopped; her body loosened.
Lydia curled into a ball, holding her stomach. She rocked herself in the winter snow. She stopped fighting them off, her eyes vacant. She whispered unintelligible words.
“What the hell just happened?” Aaron was horrorstruck. He was out of breath from the struggle.
“Jesus, how should I know?” Haylee knelt down beside her. “Lydia, Lydia?”
“Let me go grab some water,” Aaron ran into Haylee’s home.
“I need to call an ambulance,” Haylee grabbed her cell.
“No,” Lydia whispered. “No ambulance…”
“What happened?” Haylee placed her hand on Lydia’s forehead. It was burning.
“My god…” Lydia’s eyes burned like hot coals had been pressed into them. Her throat was on fire as if she swallowed red hot razor blades. Her body constricted; every muscle cramped up on her.
“Shit, okay, shit,” Haylee stood up pacing. “No ambulance?”
“Here, try this,” Aaron came running back with some water. He held her head up in his lap. Lydia slowly sipped.
“Okay,” Haylee pulled out her phone and scrolled down to Vanessa’s number. She had given her, her card the other day. She had programmed her name into her phone almost immediately. Call for anything she said.
Shit, she needed someone here, a professional of something. Haylee dialed. It rang a few times.
“Hello?” Vanessa picked up.
“Vanessa? This is Haylee. I’m in trouble…”
“Haylee?” Vanessa repeated. “What going on?”
“Please come help me. Something has happened. I need some help.”
“Did you call 9-1-1?” she asked. “I’m off duty.”
“No, I can’t call 9-1-1,” Haylee explained. “Please, you said to call for anything,” she continued. “Please, I need you. Now.”
“Okay, okay, are you at your duplex?” Vanessa asked.
“Yes,” Haylee replied.
“Be there in ten. Stay safe.” Vanessa hung up.
“Who was that?” Asked Aaron. He held up Lydia’s head in his lap, aiding her with the water.
“A woman officer left me her card. Said to call for anything. She’s off duty right now.”
“No ambulance,” Lydia choked on her words, coughing up some of the water she’d just swallowed.
“No, she said she would come by herself.”
“What’s going on?” Aaron offered Lydia some more water. “What the fuck just happened to you?”
“Give a minute…” Lydia was still gasping to catch her breath. Barely able to sit upright. She was weak, exhausted from the struggle.
“Let’s ger her inside to warm up?” Aaron asked, looking at Haylee.
“No,” Lydia moaned. “I’m burning up…”
They sat there, nearing ten minutes before officer Vanessa Velasquez pulled up in her civilian vehicle. Lydia said nothing; she concentrated on her breathing, drinking down the water. Velasquez exited the car, quickly made her way over to the three of them, sitting out on the front lawn in the snow.
“What’s going?” asked Velasquez.
“Lydia got violently sick,” Haylee explained. “Something attacked her.”
“Okay? Attacked her?” Vanessa frowned; her eyes darted around the yard. “Why are you out here in the cold? Why did you call me and not an ambulance?”
“—No,” Aaron interjected. “You don’t understand. She didn’t just come down with something. She walked into my apartment, and she like, got attacked by something. It fuckin’ threw her out of my place. We were both standing there, and she got hammered by something.”
“Attacked? Hammered?” Vanessa shook her head; they had gone crazy. Nothing made sense. “She needs to see a doctor, call her an ambulance. I don’t know what sort of help I can be.”
“No,” Lydia blurted out. Her voice seemed to come back, the color returning to her face. “I’m not sick,” she added. “I told you not to call,” she took Aaron’s hand to help her get to her feet. Her legs still weakened. “They won’t listen to us. Police never do.”
“What? Listen to what?” asked Aaron.
“Whoever attacked you in your home, he’s not human. Not any longer,” Lydia explained. “Gary is a part of the creature now.”
“What did she just say?” Vanessa asked? “Not human? Who is this woman? What does she know about Gary Thom?”
“My name is Lydia,” it was still hard for her to speak. “And my guess is, yo
u won’t believe any of the information I am about to share... You are not needed here. I am sorry, Haylee called you. We won’t need your assistance, after all.”
“Is that so?” Vanessa looked at Haylee with disbelief. “I came out here to honor my word. I’m off duty. So, why don’t we head inside, we’ll brew some coffee, and you try me?”
“Yea, it’s freezing out here,” Aaron blew his hot breath into his freezing hands. “It’s been a fucked-up day. I could use some caffeine and a fuckin’ fifth.”
They regrouped back inside Haylee’s living room. Lydia made Aaron close the door into his duplex before she walked past. Her stomach retched again as she made her way passed it. She sat on the far side of Haylee’s home. Staying as far away from Aaron’s side of the duplex as possible. Aaron brew the coffee strong; he brought it out with four mugs.
“Thanks,” Lydia forced a smile. The coffee was strong, and despite the incident, the hot beverage soothed her throbbing throat.
“Okay, where do we begin?” Vanessa asked.
“I’m sorry,” Lydia explained, drinking down the rest of the water Aaron had fetched for her previously, before taking a second sip of the coffee. “I have been doing this for over two decades. I have never gotten that physically ill from a walkthrough. Hell, I didn’t even get a chance to start the walkthrough. It hit me so fast. I didn’t have time to prepare myself.”
“Prepare for what?” Vanessa interrupted.
“I am a paranormal investigator,” she explained slowly. “I’m not sure if you are a believer in the paranormal or not, but regardless, I am what most people label as a clairvoyant. I can tap into...different worlds, realms, however you wish to comprehend it, or how you label it. The things you can’t see, but sometimes feel? The energies in the world and the things that live in those different realms. All of it, I am sensitive to them. So is Haylee. It is why she is so troubled. She was never given the right help, the opportunity to understand and control it. So, in her case, it warped into something sinister. Using her as a sort of vessel, overtaking her.”
“Wait, we’re talking ghost stuff?” Velasquez asked. “House on haunted hill, Amityville horror? That stuff?”
“Yes, ghost stuff, I suppose that works too,” Lydia held her head. A throbbing pain still lingered between her eyes. “Anyway, I felt something was off when we pulled up. That’s how strong it was here. I should have known…” Lydia frowned. It was a cautious mistake. “I sent my partner to your old house Haylee, to do her own walkthrough. When we came here, we discussed your history. I could feel the presence or the energy that was coming from the other side of the duplex, Aaron’s apartment. It’s here too, but the presence is weaker. It’s hard to explain, but the connection isn’t as strong, weakened. I believe that is because the man was never actually in your apartment. I think in here, I can sense the dreams, the visions, your part of the connection. Which isn’t as pure as the man who was in Aaron’s apartment just yesterday.”
“That’s why my place affected you so much? Aaron asked.
“Yes, a closer connection to the source. You were attacked by the man who killed Haylee’s neighbors. He was in your home. It’s the energy he left behind that hit me so hard. When I entered your place, it was like a kick in the stomach. Worse than that, you saw me, it knocked me off my feet. Threw me with force. These things, these creatures, ghosts, spirits, we don’t understand much about them. But someone like me, like Haylee? We feel them, and that man, Gary? He isn’t human anymore. I can tell you that for certain. His energy hit me like a wrecking ball of sickness. That’s how it can transmute through different realities, through energies. Whatever this thing is, it’s powerful, very powerful. Gary is a puppet now; something is controlling him. Something that has been terrorizing Haylee ever since her fiancé killed her sister, and she killed him in self-defense. Although Robbie wasn’t going to kill you, the creature and the host need you alive. He may have been trying to chase you out. Or hold you captive? I don’t know…”
“You mean Gary Thom is brainwashed?” Velasquez asked.
“More like mind-controlled, it works like a hive mind, from my limited understanding. This thing, creature, spirit, whatever it is. It shares a collective consciousness with its puppets. I only know that because I could feel both Gary and the creature’s presence. The remnants of both their beings. The sickness, it was a manifestation of the creature. But Gary was definitely in there too. Like a whisper, trapped in his mind. He has no control.”
“This is fucking nuts man, is this real?” Aaron looked towards Haylee for answers. She sat there, emotionless. Taking everything in. “
“Oh, God, Jeanie?” Lydia took out her phone. She attempted to call again. “She didn’t answer. She is in trouble.”
“Who?” asked Vanessa?
“My partner, she went to Haylee’s old home to investigate. She is in trouble, I know it.” Lydia tried to stand, but her knees buckled out.
“Hold on, I have you,” Aaron grabbed her.
“We need to go there. Get her out. If that place is its nest, she will never make it out.”
“Okay, listen,” Velasquez helped Aaron move Lydia to the couch. “Keep her here. Watch her. Haylee, can you go with me to your old home? We can check on Jeanie, and get everyone safely back here.”
“Uh, god, back to that house?” Haylee swallowed hard. She hadn’t set foot near her old home since the murders.
“That might now be a good idea,” said Lydia. “Aaron, can you go with Vanessa? Haylee, stay with me. We still need to talk.”
“I just need directions, give me the address,” Vanessa replied.
“No, I’ll go with you,” Aaron grabbed his jacket. “I know the way, been there lots of times.”
“To the home?” Vanessa asked?
“Yes, I’m sort of doing some research on the house.
“OK, we are in and out of the house. We’ll check on her friend and double back here. It’s illegal to be snooping around the property,” Velasquez said.
“We got permission from the homeowner,” Lydia replied. “She was let in.”
“Okay, well, that will make it easier. C’mon, let’s go,” Vanessa opened the front door. “Car is running, let’s move.”
FORTY-THREE
Jeanie’s heart was pounding; she found it hard to swallow, adrenaline pumping. The front door was open, wet footprints from the snow, freshly made led into the kitchen of the empty home. Her first instinct was to call 9-1-1. She had it pre dialed, her finger on the green phone button to dial. Perhaps it was Brian. Maybe he forgot to tell her something, looking for her, assuming she started in the basement? She didn’t think to look for his vehicle. She didn’t think of leaving the house. No, her instinct was to investigate.
“Brian?” the word came out of Jeanie’s mouth, feeble, weak. Almost a whisper.
“Brian?” she tried again; this time louder. The house quiet, silent.
“Hello?’ Anyone?” she asked.
No one replied.
The wet prints went to the basement. She grabbed the closed door, slowly opening it towards her. It flung open, violently. The thick door smashed into the bridge of her nose. She heard a loud crack as it struck her. Her vision blurred; bright lights popped in her eyes. She fell backward, keeping her footing, but hunched over from the blow. She had just enough time to look up when she saw the man lunging at her, his arm high above his head with a metal object in his hand. It came down fast, lethally. She felt something hit the top of her head, followed by the sickening sound of her skull cracking. She was surprised; there was no pain—only numbness which shot through her extremities. A bright light flashed in her head; more stars exploded around her.
Then came her f
inal visions of her life.
The four men at the party on campus. Visions of young drunk faces, pink lips, reddish cheeks. Still, boys, boy’s doing sick grotesque manly things. The visions came over her in waves of shattered recollections. Each a sharp shard of pain, misery being stabbed into her fading conscious, forced to relive the worst of her life during her last living moments.
Not of her loving parents, not of her best friend in middle school enjoying the summer pool at her parents’ home downstate, not of Lydia, who took her under her tutelage, teaching her how to help with the demons that came before the four boys. Or her loving guidance helping her conquer the scarier demons that came after the boys. No, her last moments were shared with the entitled football kids, with futures more important than her body.
They Mocked her.
Slut.
Whore.
Cum faced bitch.
They each took turns, sticking things inside of her, not just their disgusting dicks, anything they could find, playing would it fit. They paraded her around the party unconscious. When they were done, the last one took out his flaccid skinny pecker and pissed on her, then shoved her back into her car, where she awoke the next morning.
They filmed the atrocity on their phones.
Showed their friends.
The flashback lasted for a few minutes, as Jeanie’s brain released the euphoric chemical DMT (N-Dimethyltryptamine) that flooded her head with her most profound memories in a dreamlike state. These few minutes felt more like a trapped eternity of her most painful life experiences. She laid helpless on the floor, stuck somewhere between near-death and total annihilation. Those sick fucks, the pain, the damage they caused her both in life and now even in death. This is what came to Jeanie during her last few precious moments among the living, before the final and fatal blow to her head.
Next came blackness, then came nothingness.
Death.
FORTY-FOUR