by J. L. Hickey
“What…what are you saying?” Haylee stammered. Her heart pounded uncontrollably.
“Mind over matter. That’s something that we can do, and it’s a real thing. The few us who share the gift, our curse, whatever you want to call it. We can tap into. Others can too, but it takes a large group of people with the same message. Have you heard of the group of Monks in New York city praying for weeks to decrease crime? It’s a real thing, and it worked. But even I have never seen or heard of a case like this. One person manifesting their ugliness, anger, hate, all for lack of better words, into our world.” Lydia sighed, the look on Haylee’s face, the sheer disgust within her eyes.
“Don’t you see?” Lydia continued. “All that pain, suffering, those secrets you shared with us? The death of your mother? The baby you always wanted, but with a man who you cheated with, already married twice your age? You physically altered your child within you, because of your connection to the veil, because of your ability to communicate with the higher sense. The alternate dimension. It was not a miscarriage. The doctors didn’t know better, how could they? That child, early in its development was transformed and altered into the thing that has been haunting you. It grew in your womb, twisted, vile, something unnatural. You ran into the woods, lost in your fear. The pain overbearing. You were alone in your home when it happened. You panicked, and you fled, bleeding between your legs. You ran into the woods. You gave birth to the monster, the creature, and you tried to bury it in the woods. You clawed and clawed, buried it into the half-frozen earth. Then you turned on yourself. You lashed at your wrists. That’s when the dreams started, right? When Robbie went crazy?”
“Robbie?” Haylee frowned. She held her tears back; anger coursed through her body.
“He was the first to stumble upon the creature. While you were away, in the ward, he went back to the spot they found you. I saw it there too, the creature, whether or not it wanted me to know, I don’t know. I saw its memories. It was weak then. Small, dying. Robbie heard it yelping. This creature, alien-looking, half-dead, left to rot. It had already grown slightly. It feasts off your misery, drinking from your agony, your mental breakdown, your depression, it kept the creature clinging to life, barley. See, you share a thread with the creature. Your souls connected, and when you are in pain, it grows, strengthens itself. But it also has to feed. Your misery keeps it alive, but when it feeds, it strengthens.”
“I feel sick…” Haylee walked away, entering the kitchen. Her face went pale.
“I saw Robbie lost in its gaze…” Lydia explained.
“Stop!” Haylee yelled. Her stomach lurched.
“This is the truth. It is what we are dealing with. We need you to stay strong. To stop running from it. It’s a manifestation of your pain, grown outside the circle where the minds of man manifest their emotions. These creatures are only a small part of that world. But it is a part of it. And we are vessels. It knew you because it is you. It was able to use you as a vessel, manifest in this world with your unborn child in your womb.”
“This is crazy,” Haylee fell to her knees at the sink. Lydia gave her hand, helping her back to her feet.
“There is more, if you’re able to hear it,” Lydia helped her over to the kitchen table.
“I don’t know if I can take more of this,” Haylee answered.
“If you don’t, more could be hurt. Killed.”
“I don’t want that,” Haylee replied. “Tell me what you know about it, the creature.”
“The creature is both male and female. It’s androgynous. It uses its eyes, its gaze, to hypnotize its victims. I saw that too. I saw what it did to that man Gary. After it hypnotizes them with its gaze, it fornicates with them, plants its poisonous seed. Or rather, a parasite? Either analogy works. Either way, the poison quickly takes over its brain. The person becomes like a puppet, a husk of sorts. When I walked into Aaron’s apartment, the creature’s conscious was still there, lingering just enough for me to make a connection with. At least, some part of it. It immediately attached itself to me. I became a part of its hive mind. I had to purge it out of my body.”
“Jesus!” wanted to sob, to cry. She wanted to give up. Crawl into a corner and numb her brain until the day the light on her candle finally burned out.
“Anger, sadness, fear it all empowers the creature,” Lydia explained.
“Why me? Why us?” Haylee’s face burned with anger.
“Because we are special. We see the truth, and because we are not alone in this universe. We are but a mere fraction of what lies out in the abyss. We are portals, gates to these other beings.”
“What the fuck,” Haylee stood up from the table. She went for her pills, slamming the cupboards. She opened the baggy but struggled with the bottle due to her shaky hands.
“No!” for the first time, Lydia struck Haylee’s arm. The pills spilled to the floor. “The pills, the alcohol, they mask your pain. It strengthens that thing. It’s killing these people. Don’t you see?”
“I need them!” Haylee fell to her knees. She picked up the oval white pills, collecting them in her palm.
“Haylee,” Lydia spoke softly.
Haylee ignored her.
“Haylee!” she yelled. “Robbie, and that man, Gary. They didn’t kill anyone. They were poisoned by the creature. They acted out because of your pain, you. You are the one. You killed them.”
“No!” Haylee stood up, her knees unsteady. “I didn’t kill my sister! I didn’t kill Dennis or his wife!”
“You did, indirectly. You are a victim, but so were they. We need to figure out how to kill that thing. It’s time to stop hiding. You want to be a survivor, to take control of your life? Let me help you. We end it. Before someone else is killed.”
“…How?” Haylee fell against her sink counter. She looked at the white pills in her hand. She wanted more than anything to swallow them down, the whole handful. Instead, she dropped the pills into the sink. She turned on the faucet. She watched as they disappeared down the drain.
“We need to confront it…” Lydia said.
FORTY-SIX
Aaron was told to stay on the phone, but his conversation was cut short. With all the commotion over the last twenty-four hours, he’d never gotten the chance to charge it completely.
Fucking idiot, he cursed himself.
Aaron was antsy; he paced back and forth near Vanessa’s vehicle. It was getting late into the afternoon. He was sweating profusely now, even in the freezing Michigan Winter.
“Fuck…” it dawned on him. Jeanie could still be in the home. Should he enter, grab her? Get her into safety? Who knows how long it would take the cops to get there? The country road was out in god-forsaken bum-fucking-nowhere, Michigan.
He had to go in. Make sure everything was okay. Maybe her phone was charged, although he wasn’t sure, she wasn’t answering the calls previously.
He took a big sigh, it was decided. “Time to nut-up,” he spoke to himself, feigning something that was a mixture of bravery or complete ideocracy, he wasn’t quite sure.
Aaron grabbed his walking cane from the passenger seat. He made his way cautiously up to the porch. Vanessa hadn’t had a chance to enter the home. He heard her knocking, yelling for her, to no avail.
Fuck it, he thought.
He was going in. The door was unlocked; he slowly entered the home. The living room was large and spacious, completely empty. He took his time, scoped the place out. His eyes panned to the opening into the kitchen where he saw what looked like a puddle. He moved closer, and before he could even get through the door frame, he saw the horrid sight.
Blood.
So much blood.
It was everywhere, spl
attered on the wall, pooling on the floor.
Aaron almost buckled. Such violence, his stomach turned, but he held it together.
It was clear the attack happened in the kitchen. There was a trail of death leading towards the stairs. Aaron guessed the body had been dragged into the basement. It didn’t take a blood splatter specialist to figure that out. Aaron understood nothing good was going to be found down there. He swallowed hard. So much blood, there was no way she was alive. Or could she be? Down there, bleeding to death, barely hanging on to her life?
He had to look, stay on guard, ready himself for the worse. He saw the man fleeing from the home; he was reasonably sure he was alone. He had to look. He could never forgive himself if she were alone down there, scared, dying.
“Fuck me, fuck me,” he whispered to himself, careful not to touch anything. He used his cane to swing the partial basement door open. The blood trail led down, staining the carpeted steps with more red. He slowly made his way, the path turned left, exactly where Haylee had found the body of her dead sister. That’s where he found the corpse of Jeanie, mutilated. Her head missing.
Aaron lost it.
His stomach retched. He ran out of the basement, puking up on his jacket.
He couldn’t get out of that house fast enough.
FORTY-SEVEN
The call came over from dispatch to Clent, who was out making rounds calling for backup at 1918 Orr Road. He had just finished with a routine speeding ticket in town near the strip mall when the call came over the radio.
“What the hell is she thinking?” Clent was quick to acknowledge the call. He was about ten minutes out from Orr road.
God-damned Orr road. Nothing ever good comes out of that god-forsaken road.
He tried Vanessa on her cell; she didn’t answer.
Fuck. This was bad. Call it intuition. Client learned early on in his career, always trust your gut. His gut was telling him: get to the fucking scene, pronto!
He needed Pike. He was probably working late at the office, going over notes from the attack on Aaron Hauser and struggling to make sense of what it had to do with Haylee and the Simmons. This just escalated. He found Pike’s name in his contacts and hit call.
The phone rang three times before he answered.
“Hello, Clent? What’s going on?” Pike’s voice was gruff. Exhausted.
“Did you hear?” Clent had his sirens going, speeding to the Orr house.
“Hear what? I just pulled into Haylee’s driveway. Something happened there. Vanessa asked me to meet her there. I’m knocking on the door right now.”
“She’s not gonna be there anytime soon. She was headed over to the Orr Road house for some stupid reason, off the clock. I guess she spotted a man running into the woods, and she took off for him. Thinks its Gary.”
“What?” asked Pike. His voice stern. Suddenly the exhaustion was gone.
“I know, I am on my way there now,” Clent added. “She isn’t answering her phone either.
“How far out are you?” asked Pike.
“I will be there under ten,” answered Clent. He heard Pike talking to someone in the background.
“Give me twenty,” Pike hung up.
“I hope she gets that son of a bitch…” Clent ran through a red light, hurrying to the residence. Every minute was critical. “God damn it, Vanessa!”
FORTY-EIGHT
“Detective Pike?” Haylee answered the door, her face puffy, eyes red, mascara ran down her face. She looked rough. Her breath smelled of booze. An older woman, mid-fifties, was with her. Pretty, sharply dressed, tattoos on both arms and chest, she remained calm and collective.
“Haylee,” Pike put his hand over the phone, Clent would have to wait for a second. “Sorry to bother you. Give me one moment, please. I just got an important call as soon as I knocked.”
“Sure, come in,” She opened the door for him. Pike obliged, giving his attention back to his cellphone.
“How far out are you?” asked Pike. He waited for a response. “Give me twenty,” Pike hung up the phone.
“Is everything okay?” asked Haylee. Her voice wavered.
“I should ask you the same,” Pike replied.
“We’ve had a rough afternoon,” Lydia chimed in. “My name is Lydia, a mentor of Haylee. We were discussing some…things.”
“I see,” Pike pulled out some trident chewing gum. He popped one out of the plastic packaging into his mouth. He offered some to the ladies; they both declined. “I was called by Vanessa. She wanted me to come here and meet with her? But I hear she won’t be showing.”
“Excuse me? Why not?” Lydia asked, masking the twitch of a frown. “She is supposed to bring my partner back with her.”
“I’m told she went to your old home?” Pike looked towards Haylee for clarification.
“Yes, her and Aaron both. They went to pick up Lydia’s friend, Jeanie,” she answered.
“Hmm,” Pike stroked the itchy stubble on his chin, vigorously chewing his gum. He needed a cigarette. This gum shit wasn’t working.
“What? What’s wrong?” asked Lydia. “is she okay?
“It’s nothing. I need to get going. I’m sorry to have disturbed you. Bad timing is all.” Pike tipped his hat to the ladies. “Pleasure meeting you, Lydia.”
“Where are you going? To Orr road?” asked Haylee.
“I’ll be honest with you,” Pike nodded. “Vanessa spotted a man entering the forest from the backyard of your old home. She went to follow him.”
“What about Aaron and Jeanie?” asked Lydia.
“I will make sure they contact you. I’m headed there now. Stay home, stay safe. Leave this to my team.” Pike was blunt, emotionless with his words. He gave them a friendly half-smile before stepping back out into the cold. He entered his vehicle, flipped his siren on, and floored it down their residential road.
“Something happened,” Haylee paced in the living room. “What are we gonna do?”
“We’re going,” Lydia grabbed her bag.
“We are?” asked Haylee.
“It’s time we take control. Jeanie and Aaron are there. They could be in danger. The police have no idea what they are up against.”
“Shit, okay, one minute,” Haylee left. She was quick in her bedroom, calling Trayer in behind her so he wouldn’t be out roaming. She went under her bed, pulled out a small silver gun case. She took the firearm out, loaded it, placed it back in her purse. She met again up with Lydia in the living room.
“Let’s go,” Haylee swallowed hard.
“Can you drive? My nerves are shot,” she trembled at the thought of going back to that place. Images of Robbie’s head opening up from her gunshot. The sickening noise of his body tumbling down the stairs. The image of her sisters’ dead body. Her stomach sunk, nauseousness followed.
“Hand me the keys, and give me directions,” Lydia nodded. Both women made their exit out of the home and into Haylee’s small compact car.
FORTY-NINE
Clent pulled up next to the other two cars, exiting quickly from his cruiser. He saw Aaron immediately, sitting on the porch, hunched over on his hands and knees. A discernable amount of vomit puddled before him. He was gasping for air, holding his stomach continuing to upheave. Clent exited the vehicle.
“Sir, are you okay? What’s going on?” Clent approached.
“My God,” Aaron fell to his side. He pushed himself away from his stomach’s contents. The image of Jeanie’s headless body burned into his brain. “She…she’s dead…”
“Who? Where?” asked Clent.
Aaron pointed into the home, “…the basement.”
Clent drew his weapon, and he entered the home firearm raised. He cleared the first room. He made his way carefully into the kitchen. There he saw the scene of the murder. The blood was everywhere, a trail of it leading into the basement. Eerily, it was very similar to the first time he was called to the residence two years prior when he and Pike found the bodies of Camille and Robbie in the basement. Haylee weeping in the corner. He shook the thought; he needed to stay clear-headed, in the moment.
“Jesus,” he whispered to himself. He needed to move. He made his way down the stairs, softly on each step. He remained calm. Clent hit the basement floor, spun the corner, weapon drawn. There Jeanie’s lifeless body lay. Her head missing. Her body mangled. “…Fuck.” The word slipped from his lips.
Aaron sat outside. He crawled away from his vomit, knowing he was too dizzy to stand. He sat himself up on the porch steps, his body still shuddering. His knees were weak as if they were replaced with jelly. What had he seen? His brain couldn’t comprehend the image of Jeanie’s body, the bloody stump where her head once was.
He cried—warm tears streaming down his reddened cheeks.
He took a deep breath; the cold crisp air filled his lungs. Breathing life back into his stupor. He realized he soaked through his shirt with sweat. Despite the bitter winter weather, he peeled off his vomit-covered jacket to cool off. Steam came off his skin. About five minutes passed before Clent came back out.