Small Town Secrets By Reagan R.
October 5th, 1987, a Friday in Salemsport, Massachusetts. The weather was dark and grimy, with it having rained for the past 2 weeks straight. It was cold, really fucking cold. I was 29 at that time. I grew some facial hair and had not gotten a haircut for a couple of months, so I looked like Rob Lowe in “About Last Night.” My coworkers said that at least, to me I looked like Shaggy from those old Scooby-Doo cartoons. I mean the idea fit me anyways, I was a sheriff, or at least tried to be. I hadn’t had a serious case in years since I first started out when I was 20, which was solving a string of burglaries that led to some guy up in Holly Polk, who had been stealing to make this art thing, it was a bunch of hippie shit anyways so I don’t really remember it. Hell, the last case I had was investigating how Old Mrs. Dubtardy’s dog ended up in Ricky Santo’s backyard, and the last serious case this town ever had was when I was a boy when this guy named Harvey Keeton committed a triple murder in ’65, reasons unknown.
I seriously was reconsidering my choices of becoming a sheriff and becoming a teacher instead. It would pay better, somehow at least. I earned a degree in English in college, but I obviously am not a teacher. I lived in this shitty 2 bedroom house 10 minutes away from my job, and I drove this shitty Firebird from 82’, which I bought off the owner of the scrap yard for 800 bucks, which looking back was a scam. But hey, if it ran, I had no problem with it.
Anyways, it was rainy and smelled like cowshit. I woke up for the day and sat on the edge of my bed, as I reached for a cigarette from the pack I kept next to my bed, knocking over a beer bottle. I had been trying to quit, but I didn’t really care enough to. After I lit up and sat there for 5 minutes, I finally got up and went to take a shower. The cold water hit my face and woke me up. I soon got out and got dressed, throwing on my hat and throwing on these square aviators I had gotten as a birthday present 6 months prior.
I walked out of the door and headed to my car, the rain soaking my jacket. “Just fucking great.” I thought as I opened the door and got in. I turned on the car and heard “Should I Stay or Should I Go” by The Clash come on. It was a good song. I checked my watch, and it read 7:45 a.m. I really needed to get going, or I was going to be late for more sitting around. I pulled out of the driveway and headed toward work. I drove through Hughs Square, the center of our town.
I’ve lived in this shithole my entire life. My dad was from California, yet he moved out here in search of some inner peace bullshit I don’t know, all I know is that he was definitely involved in the Hippie Movement. My mother was a secretary for the mayor at the time. They met when my dad ran into her at the grocery store, and they just started dating. Don’t really know the story to be honest with you. All I know is that they dated, had sex, had me, and my mom ran off with that mayor, leaving my acid-tripping dad and little baby Harry all alone in Salemsport.
My dad was broke, so he took this job at the Library, organizing books and helping people out. It was there he would take me after school so he could keep an eye on me, and it was there where I learned I wanted to be a Sheriff. I read “The First Deadly Sin” by Lawerence Sanders, and I knew that I wanted to be a sheriff. God, how wrong I was.
When I was a junior in high school, my dad took off for the road, leaving the house to me, with no cash or anything, just good luck. Sometimes I wished he took me with him, and sometimes I wish he just shot himself and left me in his will. I am sure you can tell, he and I didn’t have the best relationship.
Anyways, I was headed to work when I drove past the local coffee shop when I decided to stop for some donuts and java. I parked outside and headed to the cafe. I looked at the menu, as the owner of the shop walked out. His name was Jeff Kinsley, a 38-year-old guy who opened this place about 2 years ago. He was nice, but damn did he look tired. He had a son who went to Crestly, the local high school, where I watched football sometimes, though it was hard to tell them apart from each other. They looked identical, one older and one younger.
“Good morning Jeff, did you have a long night?” I asked. “Yeah, helping Kenny with some homework, and showing him the ropes of the shop,” he said as he leaned on the counter. Jeff owned this woodworking shop where he would build these tables and chairs for whatever, a small weekend job. I had met his son once or twice, after his football games. He was the quarterback for Crestly, so I knew him.
“Nice, very nice. Is Ken getting good grades?” I asked while I looked at the menu. “Yes and no, he’s doing pretty bad in History, but his chemistry grade is through the roof! I am proud of my kid, now what can I get you?” he asked while taking a sip of his own coffee. “Yeah, let me get black coffee, with cream on the side, and 2 donuts, one for me and one for you,” I said as I took out my wallet to pay.
He rang me up and began making my coffee, so I sat on one of the chairs he had in there, and looked at the place. It was pretty run down, for only being here for 2 years. There was this nasty grime on the floor that went from the door to the register, and into the kitchen, or whatever was back there. He finished up and handed me my stuff. I sent him a thank you on the way out and headed to my car.
I finally got to work at 8:02 a.m. My receptionist gave me a dirty look, so I dropped the donut on her desk and went to my office. I sat down at my desk and turned on the little t.v that was in there, looking at the news. There was some report or story on that guy from Los Angeles, Richard Ramirez, A fucked up serial killer. I wished I had to deal with that kind of bullshit, to give some spice to life.
I was taking my second sip of coffee when I got called into the front of the building. My receptionist said there was someone there to see me. I walked out and saw Sherry Louis, the math teacher at Crestly. She was a sweet old woman, in her mid-60s. She taught me when I went there. I wasn’t the best at math, but she pushed me to graduate. She was the best teacher I ever had I would say. But she looked so shaken up, almost like she was terrified. I walked over and asked her what happened. She started rambling nonsense, so I took her into my office. She sat down on the chair across from me. I gave her some water and calmed her down.
“Mrs. Louis, what happened?” I asked calmly. “I-He- Charlie Trenton, one of the students wasn’t here today. He is my neighbor, so I volunteered to go to his house to make a social call. We thought he had slept through his alarm, but that is not like him. He is a good kid with high marks, so I went there with Mr. Rodney the dean. When we arrived, his front door was open, but his car was still parked. We went inside and the smell stung our noses. We went further in until we saw a lot of blood in his hallway. We went further in and that's where we saw- he was- his head was across the room while his body sat in a chair.” she said as she started bawling.
I sat in the chair, in shock. I thought this was gonna be some white-collar crime, but a murder? This didn’t seem real. “So, Charlie is dead now. Do you know of anybody who would have done this? A drunk family member or something like that?’ I asked. “Oh no, Charlie’s family is a good
one. I used to babysit him when his mother and father went on dates. The two aren’t deranged. I remember someone came home late Thursday night. There was a basketball game that night, so I suspect he came from there, but it was too dark to tell, especially considering it was about 12 in the morning. His parents don’t even know, they are out on a holiday in Boston. How the hell are we going to tell them.” she said as she started to cry more.
“Ok, I am going to have to ask you to either go back to work or take the day off. Don’t tell anyone about this yet, and make sure Mr. Rodney doesn’t either. I am going to go and investigate with my partner Williams. Stay as long as you need.” I said as I got up to grab my hat. I gave her a reassuring smile, saying we were gonna find the monster who did this. She smiled and sipped some more water. I sent Donna, my receptionist, to look after her.
“Williams, where the hell are you?” I yelled into the staff room. He came out with coffee in hand and glasses on his forehead. He was a new recruit, one we picked up just 3 months ago. He was a young kid, no more than 22, and he looked the part. He couldn’t even grow a full mustache, much less look like a cop, but the kid was smart. “Yeah?” he asked. “Get your gear on, we're going on a case, some strange things are happening at the Trenton house,” I said as I turned to leave.
I loaded us into the patrol car, and we headed out. Charlie lived on the better side of town, a nice 2 story place with a big front yard and driveway. I saw his car parked, and the door wide open. I ordered Williams to ready his gun, but to not load it. As we approached the door, I could already smell the stench coming from within the house. We pushed inside, clearing the rooms of any possible hiding places for the killer. We finally reached Charlie’s room, where the smell was so powerful, it made me tear up.
It was a sight to see. He was in a chair, and his head was on the other side of the room. His eyes were open and his mouth was open. He looked like he had been screaming. I sent Williams to the radio for more help, as I went to inspect the room. The body looked to be maybe 1 day old, but it smelled like it was 50 years old. I looked at his head, it was a clean cut. This was strange because Charlie wasn’t tied to the chair. If he was, it would make more sense of why he was there, but how the hell was he decapitated, and so cleanly? I searched the room for possible evidence and found some mud tracks in the hallway, but that could be from anybody, besides it was rainy outside, so they could have been there all week.
I checked his closet, and nothing seemed out of the ordinary until I found something strange. It was a dress and a pair of women’s heels. Now, this was odd. I am not one to jump to conclusions, but maybe there was some hooker who went crazy and the kid and killed him, but it didn’t make any sense. I decided that was enough, and I was going to head to the school to look for some answers.
I told Williams where I was headed, and told him to keep a look out for anyone who was hanging around the scene. As I drove out and down the road, I couldn't help but feel something off. This didn’t seem like something normal, but I pushed it off and kept driving.
I arrived at Crestly at around noon. Kids were still in class, so I had to make this quick before they went to lunch. I walked inside and went to Mr. Rodney’s office. “Mr. Rodney, I need to speak with you for a moment.’ I said as I walked in. He was doing some paperwork when I walked in.
“Of course, and please call me Jim,” he said as he set aside his things. I sat down across from him and asked,” I need to know who Charlie was friends with, his teachers, anyone who could be connected to him in some way.” I said as I took off my hat. “Sure, Charlie is a part of the Science Bowl team, so we could start there.” He said as he went to grab a file. He pulled out 3 files, which matched 3 kids. The first was a boy named Xavier Hernandez, a Sophomore with an ok track record, who seemed to get in some trouble but nothing major. Then there was Cindy Green, a senior who got high marks, the same as Charlie. They seemed to be close. Then there was Kenny Kinsley, Jeff’s son. These kids were on the Science Bowl team with Charlie, so they should know him pretty well.
I started with Cindy. Jim called her in and left the office. “Am I in any trouble?” she asked as she sat down nervously. “No, you’re not. I am doing an investigation into your friend Charlie. Can you tell me anything about Charlie?” I asked. “Oh, Charlie and I are good friends, we go to the Crook sometimes after school with our friends Xavier and Kenny. He’s a good kid, he really is. Has something happened to him?” she asked. I debated in my head about telling her and decided it was the right thing to do. “Ok, you can’t speak of this to anyone, but your friend Charlie was murdered about 2 days ago. We are trying to find the killer, and we need your help, so just keep telling me about him ok?’ I said
She looked shocked and unable to speak for a moment, but she regained herself before speaking again. “Oh my god, well, um, Charlie and I were hanging out at Fanny’s on Monday with our friends, you know that diner on 4th and Woodsy? We had some burgers and fries, and I will be honest, some beers too. We all drove out to the Crook, this spot in the woods where we all hung out. I can’t really remember anything after that. I do remember seeing him with Kenny sometime this week, but that's all I have. I am sorry, officer” she said apologetically.
I thanked her and called for the next kid, Kenny. He walked in and sat down. “Hey Ken, I am guessing you know why you are here. I am talking about your friend, Charlie. Do you know anything that would have caused what happened to him?” “I don’t know sir, Charlie wasn’t that big of a talker, we all made friends because of the Science Bowl. he’s a nice guy, but I wouldn’t know anything outside of what Cindy told you. We all hung out this week before Thursday.” he said. “Are you positive there isn’t anything else?” “Yes,” he said. He walked out and I called in the last kid, Xavier. This kid was big and looked like an NFL linebacker.
“What happened to Charlie?” was the first thing he asked when he sat down. “He was killed, we suspect on Thursday, do you have any information regarding what could have happened to him?” I asked. “No, I don’t. There is this one guy, named David Taffin, who messes with Charlie a lot. In the locker room, hallways, you name it the kid was messing with him there. I never liked him much. There is also this girl named Emily Sanders, who would be with Charlie quite a bit. I don’t know if there were a couple or anything, but they would go to his house often. But that’s all I know, sorry sir.” he said. “Thanks, kid.”
By the time I finished, it was 3:30 in the afternoon. I walked out of the car and lit up a cigarette. I thought about what the hell just happened. There was a murder, and I have 0 suspects. I was gonna get killed by the press if anyone found out, so I had to keep this under wraps until I could get some leads. I headed home for the night. As I was driving, I passed Barley Woods, the forest that surrounded our town. I don’t know why but I got a strange feeling about the place the kids kept mentioning the place called the Crook. It seemed like some big massive clue that was staring me in the face, but I just don’t know why.
I pulled into the driveway and went into my house, and went to grab a beer from the fridge. I sat down on the couch and cracked open my beer. I stared at the television for a while, letting whatever was on play. It got pretty late, so I turned in for bed, awaiting the next day of this stupid case.
I woke up to the sound of my alarm clock ringing in my ears. I slowly got up and took a sip from the beer on my nightstand. I rose from my bed, and put my boots and hat on. I had fallen asleep in my uniform, so I didn’t need to change. I lit a cigarette as I got into my car. I decided to radio in that I was going to Fanny's place to get some more information.
As I got there, I saw the owner, Vic, starting to walk out of the door. I pulled up in front and got out of my car. ’’Hey, Vic, can I talk to you for a second?” I yelled out to him as I quickly made my way to him. “I can’t chat right now Harry, I have urgent business to take care of,” he said as he took out the keys to his car. “Listen please, it's about a boy named Charlie. He was found dead last night, and I just need to question you about some things!” I said as I stopped. He stopped dead in his tracks and slowly turned to me. “What?” he questioned. “Please, can we just head inside for 10 minutes, that's all I need?”
I have known Vic since we were in middle school together. I stopped some kids from messing with him, and we became friends, but we drifted apart in high school when he went to Preston instead of Crestly.
We headed inside and went to one of the booths. He asked if I wanted coffee but I declined. “So, do you know any of the kids that come in here often? Their names are Xavier, Kenny, Emily, David, and Cindy.” I asked. He seemed to be searching his memory until he found it. “Oh, yes. They come in here quite often actually, sometimes drunk, but you know how teenagers are these days. I remember on Wednesday, they all came in to watch the Sox game that was on the t.v., and I think their names are Emily and Cindy, went to use the restroom and Cindy came out crying, and soon after two of the other boys, David and Charlie followed after, along with Emily. I didn’t know what it was about, and from the looks of it, Cindy was keeping her mouth closed. David and Charlie seemed nervous as hell. But at that time I didn’t think anything of it. I thought maybe the two were fighting, but it didn’t make sense, so I let it go.” he said with sincerity. It seemed to line up, so I thanked him for his time and led us outside. We parted ways, and I left to go to the station.
Once I was there, I asked Donna to find the daytime number of Emily’s father. I was gonna have him bring her into the station today for some questioning. I needed to start getting some form of a suspect, but all of the kid’s stories checked out. I still haven’t talked to Emily or David, so I can’t be so sure.
I got into the station, I ignored my receptionist's comment about the cigarette in my mouth as I walked into my office. I asked her to get Emily’s father’s number while I closed the door. I turned on the television and looked at the news. Nothing big was happening, and I remembered what happened yesterday. Mrs. Louis said she had seen Charlie come home, but it still bothered me. Maybe it wasn’t Charlie. I had all these questions that just couldn’t be answered, but I knew one thing. Someone knows what happened to Charlie.
I waited for about 10 minutes when I heard the door to my office open. It was Emily and her father, Mr. Locke. Her dad owned the bar up the road from Jeff’s coffee shop. I went there sometimes with friends to take the burn off a hard day. Emily looked nervous, and her dad looked furious. I asked them to sit down in front of me, to which they obliged.
“So Emily, you know Charlie Trenton correct?” “Yes,” she said. “Do you know what happened to him?” “Yes,” she said as her eyes started to tear up. “Ok, so I need to ask you some questions, you aren’t in trouble, I just need information. Where were you this week?” “I went to Fanny’s with my friends on Monday, then we went to the woods to go to this little hangout we have there. We drank some beers. Charlie didn’t drink, so he drove David, Cindy, and me home. On Tuesday, we didn’t hang out, but I know Kenny, Cindy, and Xavier had gone to the Crook to study for Mr. Angelo’s Spanish test we had on Friday. On Wednesday we went to Franny’s to watch the Red Sox game on the t.v. But I am going, to be honest with you, David and Charlie went into the bathroom….together. I went with Cindy to go use the bathroom, but she didn’t see them go in. When she pushed into the bathroom, the two of them were kissing. I knew about them for about a month. I would sometimes go to Charlie’s house after school, and give him some of my clothes, like dresses or whatever. He was my friend, and I loved him a lot, so I didn't tell anyone. Cindy got so upset, and I don’t know why. You know how people are about those things. She stormed off. David was scared she was going to tell someone, but from what I know, she didn’t. I don’t remember much from that point on.”
This information was surprising, to say the least. Her father wasn’t too pleased about the news though.
“So you’re friends with a faggot?” he yelled at her. “Sir, I am going to have to ask you to sit down, if not you are going to be removed from the room and taken out of the building,” I said. He huffed as he sat back down. “Emily, can you tell me anything about Thursday?” She paused for a moment, then started again. “I remember, Charlie, Kenny, Xavier, and Cindy all skipped school to go to Kenny’s dad’s coffee shop. This was about 10:30 in the morning when I saw them leave. I didn’t see them again until after school when we had plans to go watch the basketball game. Charlie looked a little ill and blamed it on a stomach ache, so Kenny and Xavier volunteered to take him home. This was about 7:32 at night. That's the last time I saw them until the next day, when they said that Charlie was staying home because of some flu he caught.” she said, taking shaky breaths.
This was useful information. I am not one to judge whatever goes on with someone else, so I could care less about what went on between Charlie and David, but the whole thing with Kenny, Cindy, and Xavier, it seemed odd. I decided to let them head out early. It was about 11:32, and I decided to go by Jeff’s place. He was closed on the weekends at the cafe, so I knew he would be home. It was pouring at that time, making it super hard to see 30 feet ahead of me. It took like 10 minutes, but I finally arrived at Jeff’s house.
He lived on this ranch-like property, right on the tree line. I could hear the noise from his little woodworking area blaring loudly, so I started to trudge my way over there. The sound of the buzz saw was deafening. As I walked up, I called out to him. “Jeff?” I yelled. The buzzing stopped, and I saw the silhouette of Jeff, or who I thought was Jeff. It was Ken, saw in hand, and Xavier appeared behind him. “Oh, hey Ken, do you know where your dad is?” I asked. He pointed in the direction of their house. “Thanks, buddy, what are you guys working on?” I asked. I was curious, what can I say? “Oh, we are working on this table for our shop class, but we're going to the storage shed to grab some more supplies because we don’t have much of anything right now.” Ken laughed, and Xavier nodded his head in agreement. I nodded at them and continued my way to his house
I knocked on the door, and Jeff answered it. “Hey Jeff, can I speak to you for a minute?” I asked “Sure, come in.” he said as he opened the door. I walked in and headed to the chairs at his dining room table. We both sat down, and I asked,” You know anything about Charlie Trenton?” “No, but I heard from Kenny. Sad story, it really is strange,” he said as he looked at me. “Yeah, it really is,” I said. Just then I got a call on my radio.
“Harry, we need you at the scene, we found something that isn’t normal.” I received from Henderson, one of the homicide guys we got sent from the Boston PD. “Shit, sorry to bother you Jeff, and try to clean the grime in your shop, on the floor, it kinda smells. I will see you when I see you.” I said as I quickly got up, and basically sprinted to the door.
Jeff yelled goodbye as I ran to my car. I radioed in that I was on my way. I sped to Charlie’s house and headed inside. I went to his room, where I saw the guys looking at some small object, it looked like a needle. I went over to inspect it.
The needle was definitely used, definitely. I told them to take it in for evidence and inspection. “Harry!” my radio rang in. “Yes?” “Come to the morgue, you need to see this.” “10-4 heading over now.”
I sped over to the morgue, where I knew Charlie was being kept. I ran inside and headed downstairs. I saw Mr. Carter, the owner, and a few of my guys. They were looking at his body. I walked over. “What is wrong?” I asked. “Look,” Mr. Carter said as the guys cleared away. I looked over the body, then got to his neckline, where something was missing. I requested gloves, so I could touch the body. I moved his neck, to where I could see that his spinal cord was missing, and the killer removed it by sliding it out of his body. There were no marks on his back, but on his chest was the word “fag” carved in. This was a hate crime, and the person who did the hate crime was one fucked up individual.
I left the morgue and went to Mrs. Louis’ house. She had seen someone return home that night, she had to have an answer. As I arrived, I saw Jeff leaving, with a container of something. I walked up to him and asked “Hey Jeff, what’s in the box?” “Oh, it's hydrofluoric acid, for Kenny. He said it was for the blades in the shop, apparently, they got rusty from the rain, so he was gonna clean them. I was just heading out to go back home, Ken needed some help with his shop project.” he smiled. I tipped my hat to him and let him continue on.
I knocked on the door, and Mrs. Louis answered. She invited me in, and we sat on her couch. “So, gave Jeff some stuff this morning huh?” “Oh yes, he said it was for Kenny. It’s a rust remover, for whatever he needs it for.” “Wonderful, so I had some questions about Thursday night. You said you saw one person come home correct?” “Yes.” “And you’re positive there wasn’t anyone else?” “Yes, but there was one guy on the street, a big guy, but he didn’t go inside. I watched Charlie go inside, and then I closed my windows and went to sleep.” “Ok, and I don’t know if you would know anything about this, but do you know about something called the Crook?” “Oh yes, that place has been around since I was a teenager. It's up in the woods near Warblers Point. When I was younger, it was a place for people to get comfortable with each other, but now it seems to just be a study spot.” “Thank you.’’ I let myself out of the house and walked to the car.
This didn’t make any sense. Emily said that Kenny and Xavier had taken him home, but he returned by himself. I was driving down the road of the tree line that led to Warblers Point. It was still pouring, so I had to take it slow. I finally pulled up to the trail. So I got out and started walking. It was about 4:22 when I finally arrived at the Crook. It was this little log cabin thing with a small porch. I looked through the windows and did not see any movement, but it was dark inside, so I couldn’t tell. I drew out my gun, just to be safe.
I kicked down the door and aimed my gun, ready to shoot. There was nobody. The place was cleaned up, but very old. There was this small couch and rugs and pillows on the floor. I looked around the place, there was mostly trash. A lot of takeaway coffee cups from Jeff’s shop which was odd. I kept poking around until I found a small trap door that led into a smaller basement. It seemed very sketchy, so I loaded my gun, expecting the worst.
I slowly went down the staircase, and I saw the basement. But as I was walking down, I stepped in some gross liquid that almost looked like slime from those cheesy alien movies, but I brushed it off as some black mold from the wood. It was a small room, with a bed and blankets around it. I guessed that it was where the teenagers got……comfortable. There was a small bedside table next to the bed, so I went to look inside it. In the first drawer, there was nothing but an opened pack of cigarettes and a box of condoms. I opened the smaller drawer and found a small book, it looked like a journal. I slowly picked it up and opened it. Inside were drawings of horrendous things. Humans are being ripped apart. Saws and blades being stabbed, and someone tied down while being skinned alive.
I turned the page and found names scribbled. There was Charlie’s, in big letters. There were more, a lot of kids and people I know from town. There was writing on the other pages that said: “Kill Them All”. There were pages with pictures of people circled. There were kids and people from around town. The ones circled were Charlie, Kenny, David, Cindy, Emily, Owen Hawsberg, Xavier, Mrs. Louis, and more than I could count. This person had a hit list, and from what I could tell, they weren’t gonna stop.
I finally had some very big evidence, but I needed to be able to match it to someone. I immediately radioed in some guys for the start of a new investigation. I headed back to my car where I lit up a cigarette. This shit was really getting to me. I had seen stuff no person should ever have to see, and I had to investigate and revisit the horrors every day. Then I remembered Charlie's parents. I didn’t know if they had returned from their vacation. This was all a huge dumpster fire, and I needed to put it out.
The guys finally arrived, and I led them to the cabin. They did their thing, and I was upstairs talking with 2 of the guys. “This is all super freaky Harry. I mean we haven’t seen anything like this since that thing that happened back in I think 71’ when those people did that cult thing. I remember it was all over the papers. You had to be still in high school.”
This piqued my interest. “What case? Like what happened?’ I asked. “Well, there was this group of people, in their 30s or 40s, who had killed a bunch of kids for some cult thing, some sacrifice to the devil or something. It was solved pretty quickly, but the murders had been happening for about 3 months at that point.”
This was very interesting. Could this be connected to that case? I had so many questions, and quite literally no answers. I bid my farewell, and as I was walking out, I stepped on one of the coffee cups from Jeff’s cafe. This sparked something, a small idea popped into my head. I decided to go for a drive to Jeff’s cafe, and have a look around.
As I pulled up, I saw through the window, Jeff looked out to me, and then rushed into the back. This was odd. I got a weird feeling from it, but I walked inside anyway. The place reeked. It smelled as if something died. I rang the bell on the counter, and he came out looking flustered. He was sweating and out of breath. ’Hey Jeff, can I talk to you for a minute?” He looked at me, then back at the door behind him, then back at me. “Sure,” he said as leaned on the counter. “First of all, why does it reek in here, second of all what are those stains on the floor, and third of all what the hell were you just doing?”
He looked surprised and worried. His eyes kept darting back and forth from the floor to me. “Ok, Harry, listen to me. The smell and stains come from an accident that Kenny had a couple of days ago. He walked in and threw up, everywhere.I still haven’t been able to get the stain and smell out of the shop. Finally, I was moving bags of coffee beans to the back to start the brewing process.” he said. I could tell he wasn’t lying. “Ok, I believe you, but this sickness, what happened to Kenny? Is he ok?” I asked with sincerity.
“I don’t really know to be honest, he kind of just got over it in a day. To be honest with ya, I thought he was drunk. It was very late in the shop at the time.” This sparked my interest. Late night sickness? That was strange. “When was this?” “Oh, maybe at 1 in the morning on Friday. I was preparing for a big order for this party at Lindsey’s law firm building.” “Ok, by any chance, do you know where Kenny would be right now?” “Oh, he would probably be at The Crook,up near Warblers Point on the Tatnie Trail.” “Thanks Jeff.” I said as I got ready to leave. “Before you go, if you find Ken, check up on him, he has been acting strange lately, sort of sick, but not at the same time. He just looks sick is all.” “I will. See you.” I said as I walked out the door.
As soon as I got outside, I sprinted for my car. This was a lead, and maybe Kenny and his friends knew something about what the hell happened. I got closer and closer to the Crook, when I realized something. The trail that led to the Crook, was less than a minute's walk from Jeff’s place. I lit up a cigarette, and screeched into the dirt of the road. I jogged to the small building, and I saw the light on, and heard some talking. Sounded like they were having a good time. I went up to the door, and knocked 4 times. I heard the place get quiet, then I saw the door slightly open, revealing a pair of eyes.
“Hello Cindy! Is Kenny there by any chance, I need to talk to him for about 5 minutes?” “Oh sure officer, let me get him, I will just be a minute.” she said as she closed the door. I heard some talking, and some rumbling, before the door fully opened, and there stood Kenny. He looked sick, his skin was pale and he was sweating. His hair was all wet from his sweat, and his shirt was halfway unbottoned. I knew the two of them had been having sex or close to it, but Jesus fucking Christ he looked rough. I saw behind him was Cindy, to which I had not noticed she had on just a bra and her jeans, so I guess my suspicions were true.
“Ok, well, um, Kenny, may I speak to you outside for 5 minutes?” “Uh, yeah sure,” he said awkwardly. He stepped out and started buttoning his shirt. I looked at his face while it was down, and I could see some sort of dark liquid on his mouth that seemed to have been wiped away, or at least was trying to be wiped away. He looked up at me and slightly smiled. “So, uh having fun I see?” “Oh yeah, Cindy and I have….fun.” “Didn’t know you and her were a thing, it doesn’t seem like the usual girl you hang with Ken?” “Yea well, I thought it was a change, a good one at least.” Cindy was a quiet girl, from what I have seen, and Ken was this big popular jock, I guess cliche shit happens all the time. “So, are you feeling ok? You look a little pale.” “Oh yeah, I think I caught some stupid flu or whatever.” “Ok good, I had a few questions to ask, mind if I stepped inside?’ He looked hesitant, before he asked,” Is it ok if I head in really quick, Cindy is not fully dressed, and I want her to be dressed, ya know?” “Oh sure.”
He went inside, and I heard some talking, and the sound of shifting. He then opened the door to reveal a (thankfully) fully clothed Cindy, and a messy room. I walked inside past him and looked at the room. There were pillows and blankets on the floor that had been removed from the couch, and some empty beer bottles laying around. There was a small radio playing music, but that was it. “So, what's up officer?” Cindy asked as she sat on the couch, looking nervous. “Oh, nothing. I was sent here to check up on the scene, do you guys know about it?” I asked. “Oh, no we don’t.
There were some cops here earlier, but they told us the place was fine and they had collected all that they needed, so we were free to stay inside.” Kenny said. “Oh, well there was some-” I started to say before the radio started buzzing out. “T-the b-b-basment-t-t-t” it blurted out in a gurgly voice. We all turned our heads to the radio as we heard it spit up more words. “K-killers!” it screamed before going silent, then exploding.
“Basement? What basement?” Cindy asked, scared out of her mind. “I don’t know Cindy!” Kenny yelled. “Ok, Cindy, stay up here, yell down to us if you see anyone coming. Ken, you come with me. Grab that hiking stick and stay behind me.” I yelled as I grabbed my gun. I went to the blanket and lifted them up, revealing the trap door. Kenny looked shocked, seeing the secret door. I heard rumbling inside, and the sound of a low growl. I slowly lifted up the door, keeping my gun aimed. I fully opened it, revealing the basement, and the darkness held within, along with the smell.
The growling grew louder. It didn’t sound like any animal I had ever heard of before, and it definitely was not human. I looked back at Kenny, who had a worried look on his face. I slowly went down the steps, keeping my gun aimed. I turned on my flashlight, and slowly moved it up. What I saw shocked me to my core.
There was Jeff, crouching above what looked like a corpse. His body was pale, his veins popping out of his arms, legs, and face with a deep purple. He looked like a zombie. His face and hands were covered with blood. He was chewing on something. I looked down to see the body, the body of a boy, with his neck ripped up, and what looked like his esophagus hanging out of it, and leading to Jeff’s face. It didn’t look like him, but it was his face and body. He looked like a monster.
He looked up at us, and his eyes. His eyes were completely black. He looked like a zombie, vampire, any kind of creature from Hell. He let out a horrific screech, which made my ears bleed. He stood up and looked at us. He showed his crooked fangs, and flashed his sharp nails. “Get the fuck back up those stairs Ken!” I yelled at Kenny who had been behind me the entire time. He looked stunned, looking at what his father had become. He started back up the stairs when we heard the screech again. I turned to face Jeff, but he was nowhere to be seen, but then I felt it. A drip landed on my shoulder. I slowly looked up to see Jeff on the ceiling, his mouth open, and a mixture of blood and black goo falling.
There was a moment of calm, before he jumped down on top of me. I saw Ken run up the stairs. I wrestled the creature off of me, and kicked him away. I reached for my gun but the creature flew at me again, biting my arm. It hurt like hell, that was for sure. I punched him in the face, and I heard a crack, which meant I must have broken his nose. He screeched at me, before running to go up the stairs. I ran to go get my gun, which had landed on the boy that was laying there. He had blonde hair and green eyes. He couldn’t have been more than 14 years of age. I would have to investigate him later, I currently had a monster on the loose.
I grabbed my gun, and sprinted up the stairs. As I reached the top of the stairs I heard screaming. I saw Jeff was cornering Cindy and Kenny, looking ready to attack. Time slowed in that moment as I aimed my gun. I had known Jeff for so long, and I was about to shoot him, and if I missed, I would hit one of the kids in front of him. I took a breath, and yelled “Hey asshole, over here!” Jeff turned and screeched at me. I pulled the trigger, hitting him in the shoulder. He yelled out in pain, and for a second I thought I could hear Jeff. He fell to the floor, screaming out in pain. I saw him slowly transform back into the Jeff I knew. He looked up at us, and slowly said the words,” Kenny? What happened?” before passing out. Kenny looked at his dad, then at me, then threw up black goo onto the floor. I guess he really was sick.
The drive to the station felt like it took forever. I called in forensics and investigators to the scene once again. I ordered them to pick up the kids while I drove Jeff to the station, in fear of him somehow turning again. I don’t know what the hell might have caused him to transform like that, but whatever the hell it was, it was not something a human could do. This all felt odd, like something higher was in control here, but it didn’t make any sense. We had our suspect, hell we caught him in the act, but it still didn’t feel right. The way he looked up at Kenny, it all seemed odd. But it would be out of my hands soon. The force made the executive decision to hand over the case to the FBI, seeing as we were heavily under geared for such things like this. All this shit happening all of the sudden was scary. I mean shit, the person you think would be the least scared was the sheriff, but I guess we all have our secrets.
We treated Jeff’s wounds from the bullet, and his nose. He looked normal, but his vitals were all so off. We had him restrained in a holding cell until the FBI figured out what they wanted to do with him. I finally left the station after about 11 at night, but on the drive home something felt odd. I had this gut feeling in my stomach, telling me to look deeper into that cult thing. So I took a hard turn and headed towards the library. You see, the library held our town’s history, leading all the way back to the 1600s when the witch trials were being held. My pursuit of knowledge would prove to be an important one indeed.
I pulled up to the library, seeing the light just turn off. I saw the librarian Mr. Schultzwetz walking outside. I got out of my car and yelled out to him,” Mr. Schultzwetz, could you stop for a moment please?” He stopped and waved me over. “Thank you,” I said as I jogged over. “What do you need, Harry?” he asked. “Oh, I was wondering if I could look through some books, I need to find some older information on a case I am covering, I can lock up for you once I am done.” “Well sure, here’s the key.” he said as he handed me the keys with a smile.
I thanked him and headed past, opening up the doors and walking inside. The place was old, over 300 years at least. It smelled of old books and dust, but it was a comforting smell, like walking into your grandparent's house on Hanukkah, not that I would understand how that felt, seeing as I celebrated almost alone every year. Fuck, I sound sad. I looked around the place, and finally found the dated sections. I looked for the 70s and found what I was looking for. I searched through the newspaper clippings and log books until I found the murders that happened in ’71. They were committed by a group called The Dougals, apparently, they had origins that went back many generations. There was an original Dougal family, composed of Bearnard Dougal, the first male, Davina Dougal, the wife of Bearnard, Maddox Dougal, the eldest son, Fiona Dougal, the eldest daughter, and finally Ian Dougal, the youngest son. Apparently, the Dougals used to be quite the donors, giving wealth and shelter to many, but something in their youngest son Ian changed, and that is what started the Dougal cult. Apparently, he became obsessed with the existence of the Devil, seeing visions of him from a young age. His family cast him out of their home, and he was killed in 1690 by his father.
This sparked a group of people who had been cast out to become the cult known as the Douglas. The family was soon plagued by misfortunes and bad luck. Some saw it as a curse from Ian, while others saw it as a message from the Devil himself, showing his anger toward the family for killing his child. It's kind of ironic, the name of Ian, seeing its meaning as a gift from God, but he was more like a pain in the ass from Satan.
I looked through the paper, and found the name I was looking for: Caitlyn Dougal. Caitlyn was a direct descendant of Ian Dougal, who before he was killed, had a child with a woman named Adaline Birmingham, who was the daughter of the priest of the town. His name was Jeremiah, a well-respected man in the town. Adaline would meet with Ian late in the night while he was on the run from his family, apparently, they were friends, well more than friends in secret, but when she was found to be pregnant with a child of Ian, she was thought to be a witch, serving the Devil’s son Ian. She was going to be burned at the stake, but she died during childbirth, giving birth to George Dougal, Caitilyn’s great-great-great-great-great-great grandfather. Caitilyn was the leader of the cult in ’71, which led to the death of 4 teenagers and 1 adult, but there was no more information after that.
I looked over the paper, and through more, but I found nothing. I knew the history from our class when I was in highschool, but it would only take me so far. I had to look deeper, so I went deeper into time. I went to the 1600s section and looked for the Dougal family tree. They were one of the oldest families in town, with some surviving members today, so maybe I could connect a member to someone alive now. I looked and finally reached a dark-leather bound book that looked like it belonged in a museum. I carefully picked it out and opened it. I saw the family tree, and of course, Ian was crossed out. I followed it down until I found Caitlyn, and then that's when I saw it. She was married to Jeff. That's where the tree stopped, so it must have been written down before Kenny was born.
But this meant that Jeff was married to a Dougal, so could his possession come from Caitilyn? She had been killed in a standoff when the cult and a few officers were trapped in the old house up on Balar Street, which was believed to be on the remnants of an old witch trials ground. But why would Caitlyn possess Jeff? What did this all mean? As I thought this, the lights started blinking.
I froze with fear as books started to fly out of the shelves. Lights exploded and my ears started to ring. The ringing didn’t stop until I finally opened my eyes and I saw the phone sitting on the front desk of the library ringing. I strained myself to walk over, feeling like I weighed 1000 pounds. I finally reached the phone and answered it. Everything went still. “Hello?” I asked the phone. Static on the other end answered back. “Who the fuck is this?” I yelled into the phone. More static. Then I saw the pencil on the desk start to move. It went to the paper sitting on the desk, and it began to write. ‘KILLER’ it wrote. I finally started to understand what was happening.
“Who are you?” I asked the phone. The pencil spelled out ‘IAN’ it wrote. “Why are you here?” ‘I AM NOT EVIL’ it spelled. “What do you want?” ‘YOU ARE NOT SAFE’ “What do you mean?” ‘THE BOOK’. I reached over to the book and opened it, and the tree was gone. Inside were the words: The heart of a lover, The spine of a sinner, The eyes of the innocent, The head of the fool, The soul of the seer.
“What does this mean?” I asked hopefully. ‘HE IS HERE’ it wrote. I felt chills go up my back and neck. The pencil dropped and the room began to shake. I heard a loud crash behind me. I turned and saw bookcases falling over. I ducked as a desk was thrown at me by an invisible force. Then I heard these words from a low and dark voice,” Sin is a disease that comes from the darkness, it is of bitterness and dread, sadness and anger, and it calls out to the…COMING FROM ME!” it yelled as another table came my way. I ducked and jumped over the desk and hid against it. I heard large footsteps and some sort of growl come near me. I had 3 options, I could stand up and reveal my position to try and shoot whatever the hell it was, try and sneak away for a new hiding space, or try and reason with the monster. I weighed my options and decided to try and reason with the monster.
“What do you want?” I yelled. “You are treading on a dark path mortal, I suggest you stop trying to stop what is happening, or the gates of hell will open for you.” it boomed, making my ears bleed. “What are you?” I asked. “I am the evil in everyone, the shadow lurking in the halls, I am Satan,” it yelled. After it yelled that, the sound stopped. The wind swirling around the room vanished, and all movement came to a stop. I slowly got up and saw the tarnished room around me. I stepped over the desk and landed on the book. I picked it up, stuffed it into my jacket, and left without another word.
My drive home was terrifying, to say the least. I was maybe 10 minutes away when I saw what looked like a parked car on the side of the road, with the lights still on. I suspected it to be someone whose car had run out of gas, so I decided to pull up behind them and check on them. I walked over, shining my light, but there was no voice or response. I went to the window and shined my light inside, seeing no one, but the keys were still in the ignition, so the person had to have been here not long before. There was a bottle of whiskey in the front dash, so the person was drunk. I looked to the back seat of the car and saw what looked to be the blouse of a woman. I decided to check the trunk, to see if there were any belongings I could link to the driver.
I pulled on the trunk but it wouldn’t open, so I went to my car and grabbed the crowbar I keep in the back for this sort of thing. It’s a long story. Anyways, I used the crowbar to pop open the trunk, and there was what looked like a blanket covering something. I slowly lifted up the blanket, and I saw the body of a man, without his head, and shirtless, revealing scratch marks all over his torso.
I took out my cigarette, threw it aside, then threw up on the side of the road. After all, I had seen the past few weeks, this made me throw up. I am guessing it was from stress but jeez, something better should have done it in my opinion. I immediately radioed into anyone who may have been in the office, walked to my car, and went home.
I couldn’t sleep that night, so I decided to drink. I drank a lot, at least that's what I remember. I woke up on my couch to my cat Finn nuzzling my face. I looked at my watch, which read 2 in the afternoon. I got up and called work, saying I wouldn’t be there today. I went to shower, letting the water hit me as I thought about what's happened in the past weeks. I got out and looked at myself in the mirror. I had gotten skinnier, seeing as I had a bigger build in October, but now December brought me a new beach body. My eyes were sunken and had gained some new dark circles that were not there before.
I even noticed a few gray hairs, which annoyed me. I had been blessed with my dad’s hair, which was thick and voluminous, but now it seemed I had grown heavily in age, even though I was only 29 I felt like I was 60. I looked at my face. I was considered a handsome guy, hell in high school I got into it with Julie Harriet, who was a teen model for Calvin Klein, so she was definitely hot. But age is just hitting me now I guess. At least I didn’t inherit the addiction from him. I looked at my beard, which was now a scruffy mess. I picked up my shaver and started shaving. I gave myself a mustache, making me look like a real cop. I looked at my hair, which was now a longer mullet, which looked like total shit. I picked up some scissors, took a swig of beer, and chopped off some mop.
The end result wasn’t bad, it was my haircut from when I was a younger guy, about 22 years old. It was shorter, definitely, but I liked it. I left the bathroom and went to the living room to watch some television. I turned it on and the first thing I saw was a news report on our small town. There was some FBI guy talking, it kind of annoyed me though. We were off the case, so I wouldn’t have access to anything related to the case anymore. I felt I was so close, yet so far to the answer.
I decided to drive to the station, and try to talk to Jeff. I didn’t have a good feeling about him. He didn’t look like himself, hell he looked like something straight out of hell. As I was driving, the radio kept going static, and I felt sleepy. My eyes kept closing, so I was fighting to keep them awake. I didn’t wanna crash, so I pulled to the side of the road. I opened up my door and stepped out, but I stepped into a dark place. It was like I was in a room without the lights on. I looked back and my car was gone.
I heard some voices talking around me, but they were mumbling gibberish. I heard someone walking behind me, so I turned quickly and saw what looked like a younger man, mayne 24 or 25, with shoulder length black hair and pale skin. He had blood coming from his mouth and head. He looked dead. “Who are you?” I asked.”The soul of a seer is tainted with fear, do not be afraid.” he said as he walked closer. “Stay the fuck back!” I yelled as I reached for my gun, but it wasn't there. He stepped to me, and pushed me, sending me back into the floor, and I was falling.
I landed in what looked like a living room, but it was old. Looked to be from the 1600s. There was a boy, who looked to be 17, who ran into the room. Soon followed by an older man, who looked to be 40ish. “No son of mine shall live in sin! You are the spawn of Satan and must be punished!” he yelled as he hit the boy across the face. “Father please!” the son begged. I ran to try and stop the father from striking again but I just went through him, as if I wasn’t there. I felt a gush of wind and I was in a new place. I saw the same boy, now older, standing with a girl. The girl was pregnant. They were in a forest late at night, and they were probably there in secret. “I am going to be killed for being with you Ian.” she spoke. “Do not worry my love, stay hidden and have our child, he will be guided.” Ian spoke.
I felt another gust of wind and I saw Ian, being held down as someone, most likely his father, swung down a mallet onto his head, while saying the words,” May God take you in his gates, or you shall meet Satan you devil!” I felt one last gust of wind, and I ended up in a baby’s bedroomIt was quiet. I saw a bassinet with a baby inside. I read the name engraved on the side. Kenneth Ian Macher. I was looking at Kenny, but why?
I heard footsteps walk towards us. I turned and saw a black shadowy figure. It had horns, talons, and what looked to be bones sticking out of its back. It looked over Kenny and touched his chest, making a dark and perfect circle. The creature looked at me, and vanished. I was then back to the dark place, and there was Ian in front of me. “Open your eyes Harry.” he said. And so I did.
I was in my car, parked outside of an abandoned house.Its windows were boarded up, and the grass in front had turned into dirt. It looked like it was once pretty, but the tests of time had not done it justice. I got out of the car and walked over to the front. The mailbox was still there somehow. I looked at the markings on it. They were handprints. The biggest one was labeled J.T.M, the second biggest was labeled C.E.D, and the smallest one was the hand of a child, labeled K.I.M. This was Caitilyn’s house, from when she was a child. Jeff must have moved in when they got married or something.
I think I might have just cracked the case, or at least slightly opened it. I ran to my car and sped over to the station. I ran inside and made a beeline for the holding cells. I finally found Jeff, sitting there with a straightjacket on, looking at the corner. He looked sad, but I had to persist. “Jeff, can I talk to you for a second?” “Why?” he asked. “I wanna talk to you, friend to friend.” I said. “About what? About how I apparently went crazy even though the last thing I remember was making hot chocolate with my goddamn son!” he yelled. “No, well yes. This is about finding out who did this, and I need your help.” “I want to see my damn son.” “I don’t have the authorization to do that.” “Fine, what do you want?” “Well,” I thought for a moment. I decided to ask him about the cult, just to get it out of the way. “You married a Dougal, why?” “Cause she loved me and I loved her.” “Do you know their history?” “Yes, she said she wasn’t cursed, but look how that turned out?” “What about Ken, when is his birthday?” “In 2 days, on Christmas, I just want my son.” he whined.
“Harry, what the fuck are you doing in here?” a voice boomed. It was Agent Smith from the FBI. “Nothing, just talking to an old friend.” I said looking at him. He was an annoying guy. He was tall and lanky with fiery red hair. “Good, now get the hell out of here.” he said with a dark tone. “Sure thing.” I said as I walked past. He stopped me for a second before saying,” You mess with my case, you’re fucking done working here, hell you’re done being a good citizen because thats a crime, so be a good boy for me and help kittens out of the tree.” “Hey I am Sheriff I can do what I want with a case, you have no right to take that away from me!” I yelled at him, getting in his face. “He does.” said a voice from behind him.
Jim Parry, the Chief of Police of our district walked in between us. I have known him since I was a kid. He was our neighbor, who would let me in his house if my dad was out of control. He was kind of like a cool uncle to me. He was in his early sixties, but acted like a teenager. He was the kind of guy you could call when you’re drunk at a bar and need a ride home. I would know, I have done that a couple of times.
“Jim, you can’t let him do that! We’re so close!” “Stand down Sheriff Mackenzie, it's their choice, our hands are tied,” he said sadly. I looked at him, then back to Agent Smith, then walked past them both. “Oh and by the way, that report you made about the library, we found nothing. The place was fine, you fucking liar,” said Agent Smith. I flipped him the bird.
I got in my car and screamed. I was so stressed and angry, I wanted to punch something. I turned on my ignition and sped off. I don’t remember the drive much, but I ended up at some bar on the other side of town. I took off my badge and threw it on the passenger seat. I got out and walked inside. The place was blaring with music and booze, or at least the smell of booze. I walked up to the bar and ordered a shot of whiskey and a beer. I don’t remember much after that, but I know I got super drunk.
Next thing I knew, I was walking to the bathroom and some guy bumped into me. “Watch out buddy,” he said to me, getting in my face. “Oh yea? And what are you gonna do about it?” I slurred. “You asked for it,” he said as he winded back. I punched him in the gut, making him bend over. I punched his face, hearing a crack. His nose was bleeding, and my hand started to bleed as well. “Oh you piece of shit,” he said as he cracked me in the face. I felt my nose crack, and it started to bleed. I kneed him in the side, and finally hooked him across the face, knocking him out, and him coming down with a large thud.
I walked past him to the bathroom. I closed the door, muting the noise. I went to the sink and spit out some blood. I turned on the faucet and splashed my face. I looked up and saw someone behind me. I turned quickly, and I saw the face of Charlie. He was bloody and bruised on his face. “Ch-Charlie?” I asked. He quickly disappeared, leaving me confused. I turned back to the mirror when I felt a hand on my neck. It pushed me down into the now full-water sink. I opened my eyes and I was in a big room, in which a meeting was taking place. I turned behind me and saw Charlie again, looking at the meeting. I heard talking, so I turned back around.
I saw the figure of a man, who looked to be 35, standing on a platform with a little girl. He was speaking to a large crowd, with maybe about 100 members. “We gather here today to celebrate the future mother of our unholy king of darkness, who will be led by our lord Ian Dougal himself, and guide him to release Satan, and save the souls of the true beings!” he yelled, which was followed by cheers and clapping. “On the 25th of December, our son will be born, to cast a shadow on the false prophet of God and his own son Jesus.” Wait, is he talking about Ken?’ “He will topple God and slay his followers. With the heart of the lover, the spine of a sinner, the eyes of the innocent, the head of the fool, and the soul of the seer! In Ian Dougal’s name we pray, Praise Satan!” he yelled, followed by a “Praise Satan!” from the crowd. I walked to the little girl, who had blonde hair and green eyes. She looked so innocent, but she was smiling the entire time. I then realized it was Caitlyn. I was watching a cult meeting.
I went to touch her face, and my hand just went through her. I was there, but no one could see or feel me. What the hell was I experiencing? I walked down the stage and headed towards the door of the building, and stepped outside, into a new room. It was a room, but it was wrecked. It looked like the room that baby Kenny was in, except it looked like a bomb went off inside. I looked down and saw a symbol on the ground. It was a large circle with an x in the middle. Then I saw what looked to be a figure standing in the middle. I walked closer and saw Xavier. His eyes were cut out and his mouth was wide open. Then I looked down at his body, realizing it wasn’t there. He was on some sort of mannequin. I walked to the other side of it, looking at its spine. It was situated so that it held up Xavier’s head. I heard footsteps walking up some sort of stairs, so I turned and looked behind me. I saw a hooded figure walking toward the body, with something in a cloth in their hands. They reached the body, and lifted their hand, revealing 2 eyes in the cloth. They were green eyes. I connected the dots and realized they were the boy’s eyes from the basement, so then the spine must have been Charlie’s.
The figure put the eyes in Xavier’s head. I was behind them, watching them. They stopped what they were doing, and turned, looking straight at me. “The seer is present,” they said. How could they see me? “You’re being paranoid Ken.” said another figure, stepping out of the darkness. Holy fucking shit. It was Kenny. The killer was Kenny. It all started to make sense. Kenny drove Charlie’s dead body home with who I presume was Xavier on the street,watching them to make sure no one was there. He must have removed Charlie’s spine using the tools and saw at Jeff’s house. So Charlie must be the spine of the sinner. Now, for Owen, he must be innocent, because of his eyes. But how the hell did they possess Jeff? That didn’t make any sense, and how the hell did they even know Owen? He was an 8th grader. And what about Xavier, he must be the fool, but a fool of what? And who was the seer, whatever the hell that meant?
I opened my eyes and started to drown in the water. I pulled my head up out of the water, and took big breaths, coughing up water. I looked at my watch, which read 12:42 a.m. It was December 24, and Christmas was tomorrow. I ran out of the bar and got in my car. I sped to the station. I ran up the steps and went inside. I ran to the holding cells where Jeff was. “Jeff, what did Kenny do to you?” “What are you talking about?” he asked. “Did Kenny slip you something? Or hit you over the head?” “No, we had a couple of beers while we were in my shop, then after that it gets fuzzy and I end up on the floor with a gun aimed at my head.” he said angrily. “Jeff, I don’t know how you’re gonna take this, but your son is the killer. He is doing some voodoo shit and trying to bring back Ian Dougal!” I yelled. “What.” he said after a long pause. “I gotta go, do not let them take you anywhere without a trial or lawyer!” I yelled as I ran back to my car. He shouted after me but I couldn’t hear him.
I got home and ran to my bedroom. I grabbed the book I took from the library and opened it up, but there was nothing. The pages were empty. I closed it and opened it again, and still nothing. I flipped through the pages that held no words. I heard my phone ring from the kitchen, so I ran to grab it. I picked it up and heard a small voice on the other end. “Harry.” it said. “Yes, Ian? Charlie? Who is this?” I said. “An evil life, filled with pain and strife, will mend with the cut of a knife.” it said. “What?” I asked. “An evil life, filled with pain and strife, will mend with the cut of a knife.” it repeated over and over again. It kept repeating until it hung up. I dropped the phone and leaned on the counter. Then a lightbulb went off. I went to my room and grabbed the book. I went back to the kitchen and grabbed a knife, and a bottle of Fireball.
I walked to my sink, and placed the book in the sink. I took the knife and held it in my hand. In the other I grabbed the bottle of whiskey and took a gulp. I then ran the knife over my arm, giving me a cut. I let my blood drip down onto the book. I fixed myself up, then grabbed the book again. The cover was stained red. I opened it, and saw nothing at first, but then saw words start to spell out in a red liquid. “When the day strikes midnight in the morn’ of Christ’s Day, Satan will rise.” I looked over it again, then I realized that Kenny was at the house, preparing for the rise of Satan. I had less than a day to stop him, and my time was going by quickly
I went to grab my radio, but I remembered I wasn’t on the case anymore. This was going to be tricky, but I had to finish this solo. So I went to my bedroom, going to grab a change of clothes. But on my way I felt dizzy. My vision started to blur and go in and out. I felt weak, and collapsed, hitting my head on the kitchen counter.
I opened my eyes and I was in a living room. The walls were a beige color, and there was a simple couch and a coffee table in the middle. There were two people arguing. One was a man with salt and peppered hair. The other was a woman with a red feathered bob. I recognized them immediately to be my parents. “You’re fucking crazy Merideth! Don’t run off with some group who believes in that kind of shit!” he yelled at her. I looked at her, and realized she had a knife in her hand. “You shut the fuck up Trent! These people don’t hurt anybody, they want to bring us to power! Live in high society! We wouldn’t have to stay in this shithole town!” she yelled back. “Merideth you’re talking crazy! Do you know what that cult fucking does? What about Harry?” he yelled. “Join us you fool. Harry is a seer! He was chosen to be great, and this path is the way to his true life!” she said. “You’re a crazy bitch! You would be sending him to his own death! Like a lamb to the slaughter putting him in there!” “You can’t tell me what to do with my son! He is destined for greatness!” she said as she raised the knife. “Merideth stop it!” I looked at the wall which displayed their shadows, and something stood out to me. My father’s shadow was normal, but my mother’s was not.
It wasn’t copying her movements, but instead was shaped like a demon, and it looked like it was controlling her. “Stop!” I yelled as I punched the shadow on the wall. It reeled back in pain, and shrank to my mother’s shadow. She stopped her movement, and my father looked at her confused. “You, you are a powerful one Trent. I know now why my son is the way he is. If you do not wish for him to join us, so be it. The shadow of Satan will follow him through life. Harry will be the death of you.” she cursed. She then left the house, never to be seen again.
My father left the room, and went to my nursery. I saw baby me sleeping in a cradle. He stood over me with a look of fear on his face. He then looked at the cross that hung above me on the wall and took it down. He then went back to me and picked me up. He walked over to the small record player we had in my room, and put on a record. I heard the intro to "How's the World Treating You?” by Elvis Presley playing. “I’ve had nothing but sorrow, since you said we were through,” he started to sing softly to me. “There’s no hope for tomorrow, how’s the world treating you?” I started to tear up. I missed my father a lot, and now after all I have seen, I don’t think he left me when I was in middle school. I think those sons of bitches killed him. I let the tears fall as I continued to listen. I didn’t want to leave, but I remembered what was happening outside of this little paradise in my head. I slowly closed my eyes, letting the sound of my father carry me away.
I woke up to the sound of my television playing. I opened my eyes and my vision was blurry. I reached up and grabbed the counter, pulling myself up. There was some blood on the floor, mostly from my arm but some of it came from my head. I looked at my watch, it was 10:45 at night. I had been knocked out for hours, but it felt like 5 minutes. It was odd. I grabbed my keys from the counter and grabbed the book that was on the floor. I ran to my car and opened the trunk. I had a small revolver I used for my police shit, but I had a feeling it wouldn’t cut it. I got in the driver’s seat and sped off, heading to Mick’s Guns and Gear.
I walked into the place, and my face was filled with guns, knives, and other weapons. I saw Mick, the owner behind the counter, smoking a cigar and reading some magazine. “Hey Mick, I need some real firepower, what do you get for me?” I asked. He looked at me, then pointed to a shotgun up on the wall. It was a pump action, very deadly. I asked him to get it down from the wall and for some ammo. While he grabbed it, I spotted an ax among the handheld weapons. I grabbed it and loaded it onto the counter. I also grabbed a pack of cigarettes and paid. I hit the road, heading for the old house.
It took me about an hour to get there, so by the time I arrived, it was already 11:30. I didn’t have time to dance, so I unloaded my car and walked up to the house. The door was open, and the room behind it was sad and broken. Wood from the floor and walls were rotten, and it smelled like cat shit. There were candles lit around the place, but they didn’t do anything. There was a row of candles leading up the stairs, so I followed. It was quiet, too quiet. I felt like I was being watched. “Close your eyes” I heard in my head. I hesitated, but soon closed my eyes. I saw the inside of the house, and myself. It freaked me out, but then I traveled into a room where the two people before were there, waiting for me. “We know you can see us, stop hiding and come say hi,” said Kenny, looking directly in my direction.
I debated whether or not to do as he said. On the one hand, I had a gun and they didn’t, presumably, on the other hand, they knew where I was. I decided to come out of hiding. I had my shotgun and pistol on me, and the ax that was slung around my back. I walked to the room, shotgun aimed, ready for the worst. There they were, standing over the circle that was lit with candles looking at me. I saw the mannequin thing, in all its glory. “You have brought yourself out to us, well done Harry. As you have probably guessed, we are performing a ritual, and we need your compliance to finish it.” Kenny said. “Listen, Ken, this is not the right thing to do, you know this. Ian was not evil, hell he probably had some kind of mental illness or something.” “Oh, I know that, he was a seer and a presumed Devil Worshipper. It is what followed him that I bow my head to. Lord Satan, or savior. Now, Harry, I give you 3 choices. You could try and fight me, which will end in your death and a loss for nothing. You give yourself up to us now, and I will make your death as painless as possible. Or you could join us, give your soul to Satan and become one with the darkness.” he said while smirking.
“You’re acting like an idiot Ken, what about your father?” I asked. “Jeff, that imbecile was only a puppet for me. I needed him to finish the job on poor little Owen. It's quite funny actually, how we got Owen. It is so interesting how the promise of sex sways a prepubescent twerp’s mind. I have Cindy here to thank for that.” “What about Xavier, I am guessing you killed him too?” “No actually, that was Cindy. Again hormonal boys with the promise of sex are so easy to manipulate. And for Charlie, I just took him by brute force, tied him down, and sawed off his head while he was still alive. His last words were ’’Fuck you!” such a sad display of anger for something so amazing.” “You’re a sick fuck, Ken.” “Thank you.”
“So what will it be, Harry?” I looked around the room, and I made eye contact with Cindy. She looked uninterested in the conversation. “Cindy, you really think this dick is a good guy?” “No actually, I’m with him because he promised me anything I wanted.” Ken looked hurt at this, but quickly wiped it away with a grim. “Make your choice Harry, or I will make it for you.” I looked at him, then at Cindy. I pulled the trigger, hitting Ken in the stomach, but he didn’t move, hell he didn’t even bleed. “Such a fool you are,” he said as a black liquid engulfed his stomach, and healed his wound. He cracked his neck before his fingers turned into claws. His back sprouted spikes. He closed his eyes, and opened them with a smile, his eyes now red and his teeth spiked and crooked.
“Oh shit,” I said as I stepped back. “Kenny what the fuck!” Cindy yelled as she fell back into a corner of the room. “Shut up Cindy, I am getting tired of your nagging,” he said as he took a step forward toward me. I aimed and fired again, but he sank into the darkness of the floor. The shot hit a window and shattered it. I looked around until I felt an arm grab me from behind and lift me up into the air. I dropped the gun and he turned me towards him. He grabbed my throat with the other hand and started to choke me. I grabbed my pistol from my holster and fired at him. “Ow, you son of a bitch.” he said with a now monstrous voice. He threw me aside, causing me to hit the wall and send my pistol flying. I backed my back up to the wall as he stepped closer to me. “Ken, leave him alone!” Cindy shrieked from her corner. “Shut the fuck up!” he yelled at her as he turned to face her. I took the opportunity to grab the ax from my back and sliced him in the leg.
He yelled in pain, and I used it as my time to escape the wall. I started to feel pain echo from my rib, which must have meant it was broken. He turned back to me, and I threw the ax at his head, but he ducked, and the ax stuck into the wall again. He kept walking at me and raised his arm to claw me. That's when the gunshot rang out. We turned to see Cindy, gun aimed and in fear. “You treacherous witch!” Ken said as he moved toward her. He picked her up by the throat. “I have given you nothing but power and you do this to me. I realized I had forgotten one key part of my plan. The heart of the lover. You as my lover, and I as your executioner.” he said as he moved his hand up again. “Kenny please!” she cried out. He pushed his hand through her chest, emitting a loud crack. Her face was stunned. He pulled his hand out to reveal her still-beating heart. Her face looked stunned, the hole in her chest oozing out blood, and Kenny holding it in his hand. He dropped her to the ground and turned to the mannequin, and started walking to it.
He took the heart and placed it on a spit that was located in the middle. “She loved me, but she was too blinded by the promise of power to see that she herself was a part of the ritual. Such a shame. But now I am only missing one last piece to the puzzle, the soul of the seer.” he said as he turned to me. “Your father was a seer, did you know that?” “My family has been following your family for generations. A seer being born immediately after one is very rare. Your father was special, powerful some would say. You said he came here because he was a hippie, correct?” he asked. “Yes, he was tripped up on drugs, he was no seer,” I said. As much as it hurt, I didn’t want to believe Kenny. My father had been seeing things that I brushed off as him being high, but maybe he was a seer? But why would he come here, where this all started?
“Why did he come here, you ask?” said Kenny. I looked at him, seeing the amalgamation he had become. He now looked less like Kenny and more like a human-shaped monster with the voice of Kenny. “He tried to destroy the curse of Ian Dougal. He came here to try and fight the inevitable, but he ended up falling for one of our own. Meredith was her name. She understood your father was a seer, more than he could understand it anyways. She knew his blood was strong, his soul was strong, so she would play along until they had you. I am guessing you don’t know where your family comes from I presume? Well, to answer your burning question, they come from a long line of hardship, bad luck, and even witchcraft.” he said while smiling sickeningly.
“Your family is one of witches. Your family, the Mackenzies were once the Cessairs, the outcasts of Salemsport. They dabbled in voodoo, hoodoo, and dark magic. That is where the seer’s mark was started. A member of the family would be born with a power to see the past, present, and future. But you are special, you can see the dead, and even interact with it. You stopped your mother from killing your father by striking the evil inside of her. Your father probably saw you do that.” he said.
“In fact, he most likely saw you, standing where you are at this very moment. And now, he will see you die.” he said before lunging at me. I dodged him, rolling to the side. He crashed into the desk, splitting it into pieces. I ran to the wall where the ax was stuck. I yanked it from its place and spun around to face Kenny, or at least what was left of him.
He turned to me, his eyes red and his fangs long. “Put the ax down Harry.” he said in a deep and gurgled voice. I took a look at my watch, it was 11:54 at night. I just needed to stay alive for 6 more minutes, and this would all be over, I hoped. “Kenny, stand down.” I said. “This will all be over if you just stand down.” “I am afraid I cannot do that Harry, you have made your choice.” he said as his arm grew into a sword like weapon. I felt the blood from my head start to drip down my face. I noticed the large flame that started to grow around us. I realized we were in the middle of the circle, with no way out of the room. The flames started to grow into a sort of barrier, surrounding us. My brow started to sweat from the heat. I rolled up the sleeves of my shirt, he clanged his blade on the floor. I gripped my ax, he smiled and licked his chaps.
He made the first move, running at me with his blade up. He swung down and I blocked it with my ax, and punched him in the face, but I felt a crack go through my hand. I now had a broken rib and hand, just fucking great. I ran to the side, bringing my ax back up again. This time I swung down on him, but he blocked it with his blade. He pushed me back toward the flame, which caused me to drop my ax, but I gained my balance, feeling the fire singing off the hair on my arm. I was now unarmed, with my ax next to him. He kicked it over to me. “Pick it up,” he said. “I want you to feel like you have a chance at living.” he said with a grin. I stood without the ax. He walked to me while saying, “Such a poor choice Harry.” He swung his blade, hitting my leg and drawing blood, which made me drop to a knee. He used the tip of the blade to make me look up at him, to look into his eyes. He flicked up, giving me a scar from my chin up to my eye. I felt my vision start to go red in my left eye. I realized I couldn't see out of the eye. He had fucking blinded me in the eye, what a prick.
The blood dripped onto my shirt and onto the floor. He laughed at me, and then grabbed my neck with his normal arm. He started to squeeze, and I felt very dizzy. But then I felt time stop. He was frozen. I moved away from him, and I saw myself being choked by Kenny. I saw a man standing behind me, in the flames. It was my father. “Dad?’ I asked. “Hello Harry.” he said in a soft tone. “Dad, I’m scared, I’m going to die!” I yelled in fear. “You are strong Harry, you still have time.” he said as he looked at me on the ground. My watch, stained with blood, read 11:57. I walked to him, and he put a hand on my shoulder. “I am sorry Harry, I couldn't protect you. They hunted me down and murdered me. But now is your chance.” he said with a pause. “Do what I couldn’t do Harry, kill that son of a bitch.” I gripped his hand, before I turned back to myself. I walked and returned back to my body.
I opened my eyes and was faced with what I had seen prior. “What’s the matter? Seeing things that aren’t there?” he taunted. I looked at the ax next to me. I struggled, but I picked it up and sliced upward to his arm, cutting it clean off. He yelled in pain as his blood splattered everywhere. He fell back, and I got up from my knees. I caught my breath, before turning to him. He got up and faced me, his blade now up. He ran at me, and I ducked under him, slicing up once again, cutting off his blade, and in the process destroying my ax. His blade fell to the ground, and he screamed in pain, now missing both of his arms. He turned to me, cowering in fear. I slowly stepped up to him, picking up his blade in the process. He looked at me with fear, I looked at him with no expression.
The room around us was burning more and more. I looked once again at my watch. It read 11:58.I looked back to him, lifted the sword, and swung it down onto his head. I hadn’t killed Kenny, I had killed the monster. The blade went into his head, and stopped at his forehead. He fell backwards into the flames, his body becoming engulfed in the flames. I spit out blood that had collected in my mouth onto his body before I crouched down, and took the book out of my back pocket, and held it up to the flame. It caught a small fire. I reached into my other pocket and grabbed a pack of cigarettes, and I took one out with my mouth, and put the pack away. I held the book up to the cigarette, lighting it. I stood up, and tossed the book into the fire. I turned and saw an opening come out of the fire, giving me a way out.
I walked out of the house and into the street, where my car was parked. It was now 12:01 in the morning. I looked like shit. I took another puff from the cigarette, before flicking it on the ground, and stepping on it, putting it out. I got in my car and started driving home. I arrived home and went inside. I pet my cat as I walked in, and went to the kitchen. I poured myself a glass of whiskey, and downed it in one gulp. I went and took a shower, washing off my blood and whatever else I got on me that night. I got dressed and laid down in bed. I got a good sleep that night. I awoke to the sound of Christmas music playing on my radio. I rose and got ready for work.
I arrived to work with a broken rib, half blind, my hand in a sling, and choke marks around my neck. “Harry, you look like hell?” said my receptionist. “I just came back.” I said with a smile. “Did you hear about Kenneth Kinsley?” “What about him?” I said as I poured my coffee. “He shot himself last night, up in the Old House. He wrote a confession to the murders, describing every detail known. Jeff has been released on the account of Kenny’s plea. Must suck to be him right now huh?” she said. “You know, I think Jeff is going to be just fine.” Just then, the prick Agent Smith walked in the door. “The work of our investigation is done here, return to your normal work.” “Hey Williams!” I yelled. “Yes sir?” he said as he came to my call.
“You have just been promoted to Sheriff, congratulations.” I said to him, He smiled and thanked me. I started to walk out of the building. “Oh, Williams, can you fire me please?” I asked. I was standing next to Agent Smith while I asked this. “Uh, sure. Mackenzie you’re fired?” he said slowly. “Thanks Williams. And to Agent Smith, fuck you.” I said as I flipped him off walking away. His face was a mixture of anger and confusion, with a hint of embarrassment. “I’ll see you guys later! I’m thinking of moving to California, and learning how to surf. Merry fucking Christmas!” I yelled as I went to my car. I got in and revved the engine. I placed my aviators on my eyes, and sped off.
I moved to Reseda, California the next day. I bought a nice 3 bedroom place with a pool, and a new white Corvette with whatever money I had saved from being a Sheriff, which surprisingly was a lot. I took up a new teaching position at Reseda High School as an English teacher. That is where I met my wife of 5 years, Samantha Jimmenez, the Chemistry teacher. We got married 15 months after we met each other on April 18, 1988. We had our daughter 2 years later on March 15, 1990. I named her after my wife’s mother. Her full name was Julie Trent Mackenzie, with brown hair and gray eyes, like mine.
I remember telling my class about my days as a sheriff, and one of my students, whose name was Gillian Weinstein asked,” Why did you leave, and stop being a sheriff?” “Oh, that job put me through hell and back, and besides I couldn’t tell you about it, small town secrets don’t travel very far.”
Back in Salemsport, the charred remains of whatever was left of the old house on Balar Street had been swarmed by offices and investigators. Kenny’s body was found, a bullet in his brain, and all that had happened that night had been erased, all except for one. The book may have been burned, but it never was destroyed. Even through direct contact with fire it survived, and unbeknownst to Harry, years after the old house was eventually destroyed, the book remained, with it the evil held within, and that evil has to go somewhere, right?
Small Town Secrets (This is a story I wrote! I am 15 and still working on my skills lol)
October 5th, 1987, a Friday in Salemsport, Massachusetts. The weather was dark and grimy, with it having rained for the past 2 weeks straight. It was cold, really fucking cold. I was 29 at that time. I grew some facial hair and had not gotten a haircut for a couple of months, so I looked like Rob Lowe in “About Last Night.” My coworkers said that at least, to me I looked like Shaggy from those old Scooby-Doo cartoons. I mean the idea fit me anyways, I was a sheriff, or at least tried to be. I hadn’t had a serious case in years since I first started out when I was 20, which was solving a string of burglaries that led to some guy up in Holly Polk, who had been stealing to make this art thing, it was a bunch of hippie shit anyways so I don’t really remember it. Hell, the last case I had was investigating how Old Mrs. Dubtardy’s dog ended up in Ricky Santo’s backyard, and the last serious case this town ever had was when I was a boy when this guy named Harvey Keeton committed a triple murder in ’65, reasons unknown.
I seriously was reconsidering my choices of becoming a sheriff and becoming a teacher instead. It would pay better, somehow at least. I earned a degree in English in college, but I obviously am not a teacher. I lived in this shitty 2 bedroom house 10 minutes away from my job, and I drove this shitty Firebird from 82’, which I bought off the owner of the scrap yard for 800 bucks, which looking back was a scam. But hey, if it ran, I had no problem with it.
Anyways, it was rainy and smelled like cowshit. I woke up for the day and sat on the edge of my bed, as I reached for a cigarette from the pack I kept next to my bed, knocking over a beer bottle. I had been trying to quit, but I didn’t really care enough to. After I lit up and sat there for 5 minutes, I finally got up and went to take a shower. The cold water hit my face and woke me up. I soon got out and got dressed, throwing on my hat and throwing on these square aviators I had gotten as a birthday present 6 months prior.
I walked out of the door and headed to my car, the rain soaking my jacket. “Just fucking great.” I thought as I opened the door and got in. I turned on the car and heard “Should I Stay or Should I Go” by The Clash come on. It was a good song. I checked my watch, and it read 7:45 a.m. I really needed to get going, or I was going to be late for more sitting around. I pulled out of the driveway and headed toward work. I drove through Hughs Square, the center of our town.
I’ve lived in this shithole my entire life. My dad was from California, yet he moved out here in search of some inner peace bullshit I don’t know, all I know is that he was definitely involved in the Hippie Movement. My mother was a secretary for the mayor at the time. They met when my dad ran into her at the grocery store, and they just started dating. Don’t really know the story to be honest with you. All I know is that they dated, had sex, had me, and my mom ran off with that mayor, leaving my acid-tripping dad and little baby Harry all alone in Salemsport.
My dad was broke, so he took this job at the Library, organizing books and helping people out. It was there he would take me after school so he could keep an eye on me, and it was there where I learned I wanted to be a Sheriff. I read “The First Deadly Sin” by Lawerence Sanders, and I knew that I wanted to be a sheriff. God, how wrong I was.
When I was a junior in high school, my dad took off for the road, leaving the house to me, with no cash or anything, just good luck. Sometimes I wished he took me with him, and sometimes I wish he just shot himself and left me in his will. I am sure you can tell, he and I didn’t have the best relationship.
Anyways, I was headed to work when I drove past the local coffee shop when I decided to stop for some donuts and java. I parked outside and headed to the cafe. I looked at the menu, as the owner of the shop walked out. His name was Jeff Kinsley, a 38-year-old guy who opened this place about 2 years ago. He was nice, but damn did he look tired. He had a son who went to Crestly, the local high school, where I watched football sometimes, though it was hard to tell them apart from each other. They looked identical, one older and one younger.
“Good morning Jeff, did you have a long night?” I asked. “Yeah, helping Kenny with some homework, and showing him the ropes of the shop,” he said as he leaned on the counter. Jeff owned this woodworking shop where he would build these tables and chairs for whatever, a small weekend job. I had met his son once or twice, after his football games. He was the quarterback for Crestly, so I knew him.
“Nice, very nice. Is Ken getting good grades?” I asked while I looked at the menu. “Yes and no, he’s doing pretty bad in History, but his chemistry grade is through the roof! I am proud of my kid, now what can I get you?” he asked while taking a sip of his own coffee. “Yeah, let me get black coffee, with cream on the side, and 2 donuts, one for me and one for you,” I said as I took out my wallet to pay.
He rang me up and began making my coffee, so I sat on one of the chairs he had in there, and looked at the place. It was pretty run down, for only being here for 2 years. There was this nasty grime on the floor that went from the door to the register, and into the kitchen, or whatever was back there. He finished up and handed me my stuff. I sent him a thank you on the way out and headed to my car.
I finally got to work at 8:02 a.m. My receptionist gave me a dirty look, so I dropped the donut on her desk and went to my office. I sat down at my desk and turned on the little t.v that was in there, looking at the news. There was some report or story on that guy from Los Angeles, Richard Ramirez, A fucked up serial killer. I wished I had to deal with that kind of bullshit, to give some spice to life.
I was taking my second sip of coffee when I got called into the front of the building. My receptionist said there was someone there to see me. I walked out and saw Sherry Louis, the math teacher at Crestly. She was a sweet old woman, in her mid-60s. She taught me when I went there. I wasn’t the best at math, but she pushed me to graduate. She was the best teacher I ever had I would say. But she looked so shaken up, almost like she was terrified. I walked over and asked her what happened. She started rambling nonsense, so I took her into my office. She sat down on the chair across from me. I gave her some water and calmed her down.
“Mrs. Louis, what happened?” I asked calmly. “I-He- Charlie Trenton, one of the students wasn’t here today. He is my neighbor, so I volunteered to go to his house to make a social call. We thought he had slept through his alarm, but that is not like him. He is a good kid with high marks, so I went there with Mr. Rodney the dean. When we arrived, his front door was open, but his car was still parked. We went inside and the smell stung our noses. We went further in until we saw a lot of blood in his hallway. We went further in and that's where we saw- he was- his head was across the room while his body sat in a chair.” she said as she started bawling.
I sat in the chair, in shock. I thought this was gonna be some white-collar crime, but a murder? This didn’t seem real. “So, Charlie is dead now. Do you know of anybody who would have done this? A drunk family member or something like that?’ I asked. “Oh no, Charlie’s family is a good
one. I used to babysit him when his mother and father went on dates. The two aren’t deranged. I remember someone came home late Thursday night. There was a basketball game that night, so I suspect he came from there, but it was too dark to tell, especially considering it was about 12 in the morning. His parents don’t even know, they are out on a holiday in Boston. How the hell are we going to tell them.” she said as she started to cry more.
“Ok, I am going to have to ask you to either go back to work or take the day off. Don’t tell anyone about this yet, and make sure Mr. Rodney doesn’t either. I am going to go and investigate with my partner Williams. Stay as long as you need.” I said as I got up to grab my hat. I gave her a reassuring smile, saying we were gonna find the monster who did this. She smiled and sipped some more water. I sent Donna, my receptionist, to look after her.
“Williams, where the hell are you?” I yelled into the staff room. He came out with coffee in hand and glasses on his forehead. He was a new recruit, one we picked up just 3 months ago. He was a young kid, no more than 22, and he looked the part. He couldn’t even grow a full mustache, much less look like a cop, but the kid was smart. “Yeah?” he asked. “Get your gear on, we're going on a case, some strange things are happening at the Trenton house,” I said as I turned to leave.
I loaded us into the patrol car, and we headed out. Charlie lived on the better side of town, a nice 2 story place with a big front yard and driveway. I saw his car parked, and the door wide open. I ordered Williams to ready his gun, but to not load it. As we approached the door, I could already smell the stench coming from within the house. We pushed inside, clearing the rooms of any possible hiding places for the killer. We finally reached Charlie’s room, where the smell was so powerful, it made me tear up.
It was a sight to see. He was in a chair, and his head was on the other side of the room. His eyes were open and his mouth was open. He looked like he had been screaming. I sent Williams to the radio for more help, as I went to inspect the room. The body looked to be maybe 1 day old, but it smelled like it was 50 years old. I looked at his head, it was a clean cut. This was strange because Charlie wasn’t tied to the chair. If he was, it would make more sense of why he was there, but how the hell was he decapitated, and so cleanly? I searched the room for possible evidence and found some mud tracks in the hallway, but that could be from anybody, besides it was rainy outside, so they could have been there all week.
I checked his closet, and nothing seemed out of the ordinary until I found something strange. It was a dress and a pair of women’s heels. Now, this was odd. I am not one to jump to conclusions, but maybe there was some hooker who went crazy and the kid and killed him, but it didn’t make any sense. I decided that was enough, and I was going to head to the school to look for some answers.
I told Williams where I was headed, and told him to keep a look out for anyone who was hanging around the scene. As I drove out and down the road, I couldn't help but feel something off. This didn’t seem like something normal, but I pushed it off and kept driving.
I arrived at Crestly at around noon. Kids were still in class, so I had to make this quick before they went to lunch. I walked inside and went to Mr. Rodney’s office. “Mr. Rodney, I need to speak with you for a moment.’ I said as I walked in. He was doing some paperwork when I walked in.
“Of course, and please call me Jim,” he said as he set aside his things. I sat down across from him and asked,” I need to know who Charlie was friends with, his teachers, anyone who could be connected to him in some way.” I said as I took off my hat. “Sure, Charlie is a part of the Science Bowl team, so we could start there.” He said as he went to grab a file. He pulled out 3 files, which matched 3 kids. The first was a boy named Xavier Hernandez, a Sophomore with an ok track record, who seemed to get in some trouble but nothing major. Then there was Cindy Green, a senior who got high marks, the same as Charlie. They seemed to be close. Then there was Kenny Kinsley, Jeff’s son. These kids were on the Science Bowl team with Charlie, so they should know him pretty well.
I started with Cindy. Jim called her in and left the office. “Am I in any trouble?” she asked as she sat down nervously. “No, you’re not. I am doing an investigation into your friend Charlie. Can you tell me anything about Charlie?” I asked. “Oh, Charlie and I are good friends, we go to the Crook sometimes after school with our friends Xavier and Kenny. He’s a good kid, he really is. Has something happened to him?” she asked. I debated in my head about telling her and decided it was the right thing to do. “Ok, you can’t speak of this to anyone, but your friend Charlie was murdered about 2 days ago. We are trying to find the killer, and we need your help, so just keep telling me about him ok?’ I said
She looked shocked and unable to speak for a moment, but she regained herself before speaking again. “Oh my god, well, um, Charlie and I were hanging out at Fanny’s on Monday with our friends, you know that diner on 4th and Woodsy? We had some burgers and fries, and I will be honest, some beers too. We all drove out to the Crook, this spot in the woods where we all hung out. I can’t really remember anything after that. I do remember seeing him with Kenny sometime this week, but that's all I have. I am sorry, officer” she said apologetically.
I thanked her and called for the next kid, Kenny. He walked in and sat down. “Hey Ken, I am guessing you know why you are here. I am talking about your friend, Charlie. Do you know anything that would have caused what happened to him?” “I don’t know sir, Charlie wasn’t that big of a talker, we all made friends because of the Science Bowl. he’s a nice guy, but I wouldn’t know anything outside of what Cindy told you. We all hung out this week before Thursday.” he said. “Are you positive there isn’t anything else?” “Yes,” he said. He walked out and I called in the last kid, Xavier. This kid was big and looked like an NFL linebacker.
“What happened to Charlie?” was the first thing he asked when he sat down. “He was killed, we suspect on Thursday, do you have any information regarding what could have happened to him?” I asked. “No, I don’t. There is this one guy, named David Taffin, who messes with Charlie a lot. In the locker room, hallways, you name it the kid was messing with him there. I never liked him much. There is also this girl named Emily Sanders, who would be with Charlie quite a bit. I don’t know if there were a couple or anything, but they would go to his house often. But that’s all I know, sorry sir.” he said. “Thanks, kid.”
By the time I finished, it was 3:30 in the afternoon. I walked out of the car and lit up a cigarette. I thought about what the hell just happened. There was a murder, and I have 0 suspects. I was gonna get killed by the press if anyone found out, so I had to keep this under wraps until I could get some leads. I headed home for the night. As I was driving, I passed Barley Woods, the forest that surrounded our town. I don’t know why but I got a strange feeling about the place the kids kept mentioning the place called the Crook. It seemed like some big massive clue that was staring me in the face, but I just don’t know why.
I pulled into the driveway and went into my house, and went to grab a beer from the fridge. I sat down on the couch and cracked open my beer. I stared at the television for a while, letting whatever was on play. It got pretty late, so I turned in for bed, awaiting the next day of this stupid case.
I woke up to the sound of my alarm clock ringing in my ears. I slowly got up and took a sip from the beer on my nightstand. I rose from my bed, and put my boots and hat on. I had fallen asleep in my uniform, so I didn’t need to change. I lit a cigarette as I got into my car. I decided to radio in that I was going to Fanny's place to get some more information.
As I got there, I saw the owner, Vic, starting to walk out of the door. I pulled up in front and got out of my car. ’’Hey, Vic, can I talk to you for a second?” I yelled out to him as I quickly made my way to him. “I can’t chat right now Harry, I have urgent business to take care of,” he said as he took out the keys to his car. “Listen please, it's about a boy named Charlie. He was found dead last night, and I just need to question you about some things!” I said as I stopped. He stopped dead in his tracks and slowly turned to me. “What?” he questioned. “Please, can we just head inside for 10 minutes, that's all I need?”
I have known Vic since we were in middle school together. I stopped some kids from messing with him, and we became friends, but we drifted apart in high school when he went to Preston instead of Crestly.
We headed inside and went to one of the booths. He asked if I wanted coffee but I declined. “So, do you know any of the kids that come in here often? Their names are Xavier, Kenny, Emily, David, and Cindy.” I asked. He seemed to be searching his memory until he found it. “Oh, yes. They come in here quite often actually, sometimes drunk, but you know how teenagers are these days. I remember on Wednesday, they all came in to watch the Sox game that was on the t.v., and I think their names are Emily and Cindy, went to use the restroom and Cindy came out crying, and soon after two of the other boys, David and Charlie followed after, along with Emily. I didn’t know what it was about, and from the looks of it, Cindy was keeping her mouth closed. David and Charlie seemed nervous as hell. But at that time I didn’t think anything of it. I thought maybe the two were fighting, but it didn’t make sense, so I let it go.” he said with sincerity. It seemed to line up, so I thanked him for his time and led us outside. We parted ways, and I left to go to the station.
Once I was there, I asked Donna to find the daytime number of Emily’s father. I was gonna have him bring her into the station today for some questioning. I needed to start getting some form of a suspect, but all of the kid’s stories checked out. I still haven’t talked to Emily or David, so I can’t be so sure.
I got into the station, I ignored my receptionist's comment about the cigarette in my mouth as I walked into my office. I asked her to get Emily’s father’s number while I closed the door. I turned on the television and looked at the news. Nothing big was happening, and I remembered what happened yesterday. Mrs. Louis said she had seen Charlie come home, but it still bothered me. Maybe it wasn’t Charlie. I had all these questions that just couldn’t be answered, but I knew one thing. Someone knows what happened to Charlie.
I waited for about 10 minutes when I heard the door to my office open. It was Emily and her father, Mr. Locke. Her dad owned the bar up the road from Jeff’s coffee shop. I went there sometimes with friends to take the burn off a hard day. Emily looked nervous, and her dad looked furious. I asked them to sit down in front of me, to which they obliged.
“So Emily, you know Charlie Trenton correct?” “Yes,” she said. “Do you know what happened to him?” “Yes,” she said as her eyes started to tear up. “Ok, so I need to ask you some questions, you aren’t in trouble, I just need information. Where were you this week?” “I went to Fanny’s with my friends on Monday, then we went to the woods to go to this little hangout we have there. We drank some beers. Charlie didn’t drink, so he drove David, Cindy, and me home. On Tuesday, we didn’t hang out, but I know Kenny, Cindy, and Xavier had gone to the Crook to study for Mr. Angelo’s Spanish test we had on Friday. On Wednesday we went to Franny’s to watch the Red Sox game on the t.v. But I am going, to be honest with you, David and Charlie went into the bathroom….together. I went with Cindy to go use the bathroom, but she didn’t see them go in. When she pushed into the bathroom, the two of them were kissing. I knew about them for about a month. I would sometimes go to Charlie’s house after school, and give him some of my clothes, like dresses or whatever. He was my friend, and I loved him a lot, so I didn't tell anyone. Cindy got so upset, and I don’t know why. You know how people are about those things. She stormed off. David was scared she was going to tell someone, but from what I know, she didn’t. I don’t remember much from that point on.”
This information was surprising, to say the least. Her father wasn’t too pleased about the news though.
“So you’re friends with a faggot?” he yelled at her. “Sir, I am going to have to ask you to sit down, if not you are going to be removed from the room and taken out of the building,” I said. He huffed as he sat back down. “Emily, can you tell me anything about Thursday?” She paused for a moment, then started again. “I remember, Charlie, Kenny, Xavier, and Cindy all skipped school to go to Kenny’s dad’s coffee shop. This was about 10:30 in the morning when I saw them leave. I didn’t see them again until after school when we had plans to go watch the basketball game. Charlie looked a little ill and blamed it on a stomach ache, so Kenny and Xavier volunteered to take him home. This was about 7:32 at night. That's the last time I saw them until the next day, when they said that Charlie was staying home because of some flu he caught.” she said, taking shaky breaths.
This was useful information. I am not one to judge whatever goes on with someone else, so I could care less about what went on between Charlie and David, but the whole thing with Kenny, Cindy, and Xavier, it seemed odd. I decided to let them head out early. It was about 11:32, and I decided to go by Jeff’s place. He was closed on the weekends at the cafe, so I knew he would be home. It was pouring at that time, making it super hard to see 30 feet ahead of me. It took like 10 minutes, but I finally arrived at Jeff’s house.
He lived on this ranch-like property, right on the tree line. I could hear the noise from his little woodworking area blaring loudly, so I started to trudge my way over there. The sound of the buzz saw was deafening. As I walked up, I called out to him. “Jeff?” I yelled. The buzzing stopped, and I saw the silhouette of Jeff, or who I thought was Jeff. It was Ken, saw in hand, and Xavier appeared behind him. “Oh, hey Ken, do you know where your dad is?” I asked. He pointed in the direction of their house. “Thanks, buddy, what are you guys working on?” I asked. I was curious, what can I say? “Oh, we are working on this table for our shop class, but we're going to the storage shed to grab some more supplies because we don’t have much of anything right now.” Ken laughed, and Xavier nodded his head in agreement. I nodded at them and continued my way to his house
I knocked on the door, and Jeff answered it. “Hey Jeff, can I speak to you for a minute?” I asked “Sure, come in.” he said as he opened the door. I walked in and headed to the chairs at his dining room table. We both sat down, and I asked,” You know anything about Charlie Trenton?” “No, but I heard from Kenny. Sad story, it really is strange,” he said as he looked at me. “Yeah, it really is,” I said. Just then I got a call on my radio.
“Harry, we need you at the scene, we found something that isn’t normal.” I received from Henderson, one of the homicide guys we got sent from the Boston PD. “Shit, sorry to bother you Jeff, and try to clean the grime in your shop, on the floor, it kinda smells. I will see you when I see you.” I said as I quickly got up, and basically sprinted to the door.
Jeff yelled goodbye as I ran to my car. I radioed in that I was on my way. I sped to Charlie’s house and headed inside. I went to his room, where I saw the guys looking at some small object, it looked like a needle. I went over to inspect it.
The needle was definitely used, definitely. I told them to take it in for evidence and inspection. “Harry!” my radio rang in. “Yes?” “Come to the morgue, you need to see this.” “10-4 heading over now.”
I sped over to the morgue, where I knew Charlie was being kept. I ran inside and headed downstairs. I saw Mr. Carter, the owner, and a few of my guys. They were looking at his body. I walked over. “What is wrong?” I asked. “Look,” Mr. Carter said as the guys cleared away. I looked over the body, then got to his neckline, where something was missing. I requested gloves, so I could touch the body. I moved his neck, to where I could see that his spinal cord was missing, and the killer removed it by sliding it out of his body. There were no marks on his back, but on his chest was the word “fag” carved in. This was a hate crime, and the person who did the hate crime was one fucked up individual.
I left the morgue and went to Mrs. Louis’ house. She had seen someone return home that night, she had to have an answer. As I arrived, I saw Jeff leaving, with a container of something. I walked up to him and asked “Hey Jeff, what’s in the box?” “Oh, it's hydrofluoric acid, for Kenny. He said it was for the blades in the shop, apparently, they got rusty from the rain, so he was gonna clean them. I was just heading out to go back home, Ken needed some help with his shop project.” he smiled. I tipped my hat to him and let him continue on.
I knocked on the door, and Mrs. Louis answered. She invited me in, and we sat on her couch. “So, gave Jeff some stuff this morning huh?” “Oh yes, he said it was for Kenny. It’s a rust remover, for whatever he needs it for.” “Wonderful, so I had some questions about Thursday night. You said you saw one person come home correct?” “Yes.” “And you’re positive there wasn’t anyone else?” “Yes, but there was one guy on the street, a big guy, but he didn’t go inside. I watched Charlie go inside, and then I closed my windows and went to sleep.” “Ok, and I don’t know if you would know anything about this, but do you know about something called the Crook?” “Oh yes, that place has been around since I was a teenager. It's up in the woods near Warblers Point. When I was younger, it was a place for people to get comfortable with each other, but now it seems to just be a study spot.” “Thank you.’’ I let myself out of the house and walked to the car.
This didn’t make any sense. Emily said that Kenny and Xavier had taken him home, but he returned by himself. I was driving down the road of the tree line that led to Warblers Point. It was still pouring, so I had to take it slow. I finally pulled up to the trail. So I got out and started walking. It was about 4:22 when I finally arrived at the Crook. It was this little log cabin thing with a small porch. I looked through the windows and did not see any movement, but it was dark inside, so I couldn’t tell. I drew out my gun, just to be safe.
I kicked down the door and aimed my gun, ready to shoot. There was nobody. The place was cleaned up, but very old. There was this small couch and rugs and pillows on the floor. I looked around the place, there was mostly trash. A lot of takeaway coffee cups from Jeff’s shop which was odd. I kept poking around until I found a small trap door that led into a smaller basement. It seemed very sketchy, so I loaded my gun, expecting the worst.
I slowly went down the staircase, and I saw the basement. But as I was walking down, I stepped in some gross liquid that almost looked like slime from those cheesy alien movies, but I brushed it off as some black mold from the wood. It was a small room, with a bed and blankets around it. I guessed that it was where the teenagers got……comfortable. There was a small bedside table next to the bed, so I went to look inside it. In the first drawer, there was nothing but an opened pack of cigarettes and a box of condoms. I opened the smaller drawer and found a small book, it looked like a journal. I slowly picked it up and opened it. Inside were drawings of horrendous things. Humans are being ripped apart. Saws and blades being stabbed, and someone tied down while being skinned alive.
I turned the page and found names scribbled. There was Charlie’s, in big letters. There were more, a lot of kids and people I know from town. There was writing on the other pages that said: “Kill Them All”. There were pages with pictures of people circled. There were kids and people from around town. The ones circled were Charlie, Kenny, David, Cindy, Emily, Owen Hawsberg, Xavier, Mrs. Louis, and more than I could count. This person had a hit list, and from what I could tell, they weren’t gonna stop.
I finally had some very big evidence, but I needed to be able to match it to someone. I immediately radioed in some guys for the start of a new investigation. I headed back to my car where I lit up a cigarette. This shit was really getting to me. I had seen stuff no person should ever have to see, and I had to investigate and revisit the horrors every day. Then I remembered Charlie's parents. I didn’t know if they had returned from their vacation. This was all a huge dumpster fire, and I needed to put it out.
The guys finally arrived, and I led them to the cabin. They did their thing, and I was upstairs talking with 2 of the guys. “This is all super freaky Harry. I mean we haven’t seen anything like this since that thing that happened back in I think 71’ when those people did that cult thing. I remember it was all over the papers. You had to be still in high school.”
This piqued my interest. “What case? Like what happened?’ I asked. “Well, there was this group of people, in their 30s or 40s, who had killed a bunch of kids for some cult thing, some sacrifice to the devil or something. It was solved pretty quickly, but the murders had been happening for about 3 months at that point.”
This was very interesting. Could this be connected to that case? I had so many questions, and quite literally no answers. I bid my farewell, and as I was walking out, I stepped on one of the coffee cups from Jeff’s cafe. This sparked something, a small idea popped into my head. I decided to go for a drive to Jeff’s cafe, and have a look around.
As I pulled up, I saw through the window, Jeff looked out to me, and then rushed into the back. This was odd. I got a weird feeling from it, but I walked inside anyway. The place reeked. It smelled as if something died. I rang the bell on the counter, and he came out looking flustered. He was sweating and out of breath. ’Hey Jeff, can I talk to you for a minute?” He looked at me, then back at the door behind him, then back at me. “Sure,” he said as leaned on the counter. “First of all, why does it reek in here, second of all what are those stains on the floor, and third of all what the hell were you just doing?”
He looked surprised and worried. His eyes kept darting back and forth from the floor to me. “Ok, Harry, listen to me. The smell and stains come from an accident that Kenny had a couple of days ago. He walked in and threw up, everywhere.I still haven’t been able to get the stain and smell out of the shop. Finally, I was moving bags of coffee beans to the back to start the brewing process.” he said. I could tell he wasn’t lying. “Ok, I believe you, but this sickness, what happened to Kenny? Is he ok?” I asked with sincerity.
“I don’t really know to be honest, he kind of just got over it in a day. To be honest with ya, I thought he was drunk. It was very late in the shop at the time.” This sparked my interest. Late night sickness? That was strange. “When was this?” “Oh, maybe at 1 in the morning on Friday. I was preparing for a big order for this party at Lindsey’s law firm building.” “Ok, by any chance, do you know where Kenny would be right now?” “Oh, he would probably be at The Crook,up near Warblers Point on the Tatnie Trail.” “Thanks Jeff.” I said as I got ready to leave. “Before you go, if you find Ken, check up on him, he has been acting strange lately, sort of sick, but not at the same time. He just looks sick is all.” “I will. See you.” I said as I walked out the door.
As soon as I got outside, I sprinted for my car. This was a lead, and maybe Kenny and his friends knew something about what the hell happened. I got closer and closer to the Crook, when I realized something. The trail that led to the Crook, was less than a minute's walk from Jeff’s place. I lit up a cigarette, and screeched into the dirt of the road. I jogged to the small building, and I saw the light on, and heard some talking. Sounded like they were having a good time. I went up to the door, and knocked 4 times. I heard the place get quiet, then I saw the door slightly open, revealing a pair of eyes.
“Hello Cindy! Is Kenny there by any chance, I need to talk to him for about 5 minutes?” “Oh sure officer, let me get him, I will just be a minute.” she said as she closed the door. I heard some talking, and some rumbling, before the door fully opened, and there stood Kenny. He looked sick, his skin was pale and he was sweating. His hair was all wet from his sweat, and his shirt was halfway unbottoned. I knew the two of them had been having sex or close to it, but Jesus fucking Christ he looked rough. I saw behind him was Cindy, to which I had not noticed she had on just a bra and her jeans, so I guess my suspicions were true.
“Ok, well, um, Kenny, may I speak to you outside for 5 minutes?” “Uh, yeah sure,” he said awkwardly. He stepped out and started buttoning his shirt. I looked at his face while it was down, and I could see some sort of dark liquid on his mouth that seemed to have been wiped away, or at least was trying to be wiped away. He looked up at me and slightly smiled. “So, uh having fun I see?” “Oh yeah, Cindy and I have….fun.” “Didn’t know you and her were a thing, it doesn’t seem like the usual girl you hang with Ken?” “Yea well, I thought it was a change, a good one at least.” Cindy was a quiet girl, from what I have seen, and Ken was this big popular jock, I guess cliche shit happens all the time. “So, are you feeling ok? You look a little pale.” “Oh yeah, I think I caught some stupid flu or whatever.” “Ok good, I had a few questions to ask, mind if I stepped inside?’ He looked hesitant, before he asked,” Is it ok if I head in really quick, Cindy is not fully dressed, and I want her to be dressed, ya know?” “Oh sure.”
He went inside, and I heard some talking, and the sound of shifting. He then opened the door to reveal a (thankfully) fully clothed Cindy, and a messy room. I walked inside past him and looked at the room. There were pillows and blankets on the floor that had been removed from the couch, and some empty beer bottles laying around. There was a small radio playing music, but that was it. “So, what's up officer?” Cindy asked as she sat on the couch, looking nervous. “Oh, nothing. I was sent here to check up on the scene, do you guys know about it?” I asked. “Oh, no we don’t.
There were some cops here earlier, but they told us the place was fine and they had collected all that they needed, so we were free to stay inside.” Kenny said. “Oh, well there was some-” I started to say before the radio started buzzing out. “T-the b-b-basment-t-t-t” it blurted out in a gurgly voice. We all turned our heads to the radio as we heard it spit up more words. “K-killers!” it screamed before going silent, then exploding.
“Basement? What basement?” Cindy asked, scared out of her mind. “I don’t know Cindy!” Kenny yelled. “Ok, Cindy, stay up here, yell down to us if you see anyone coming. Ken, you come with me. Grab that hiking stick and stay behind me.” I yelled as I grabbed my gun. I went to the blanket and lifted them up, revealing the trap door. Kenny looked shocked, seeing the secret door. I heard rumbling inside, and the sound of a low growl. I slowly lifted up the door, keeping my gun aimed. I fully opened it, revealing the basement, and the darkness held within, along with the smell.
The growling grew louder. It didn’t sound like any animal I had ever heard of before, and it definitely was not human. I looked back at Kenny, who had a worried look on his face. I slowly went down the steps, keeping my gun aimed. I turned on my flashlight, and slowly moved it up. What I saw shocked me to my core.
There was Jeff, crouching above what looked like a corpse. His body was pale, his veins popping out of his arms, legs, and face with a deep purple. He looked like a zombie. His face and hands were covered with blood. He was chewing on something. I looked down to see the body, the body of a boy, with his neck ripped up, and what looked like his esophagus hanging out of it, and leading to Jeff’s face. It didn’t look like him, but it was his face and body. He looked like a monster.
He looked up at us, and his eyes. His eyes were completely black. He looked like a zombie, vampire, any kind of creature from Hell. He let out a horrific screech, which made my ears bleed. He stood up and looked at us. He showed his crooked fangs, and flashed his sharp nails. “Get the fuck back up those stairs Ken!” I yelled at Kenny who had been behind me the entire time. He looked stunned, looking at what his father had become. He started back up the stairs when we heard the screech again. I turned to face Jeff, but he was nowhere to be seen, but then I felt it. A drip landed on my shoulder. I slowly looked up to see Jeff on the ceiling, his mouth open, and a mixture of blood and black goo falling.
There was a moment of calm, before he jumped down on top of me. I saw Ken run up the stairs. I wrestled the creature off of me, and kicked him away. I reached for my gun but the creature flew at me again, biting my arm. It hurt like hell, that was for sure. I punched him in the face, and I heard a crack, which meant I must have broken his nose. He screeched at me, before running to go up the stairs. I ran to go get my gun, which had landed on the boy that was laying there. He had blonde hair and green eyes. He couldn’t have been more than 14 years of age. I would have to investigate him later, I currently had a monster on the loose.
I grabbed my gun, and sprinted up the stairs. As I reached the top of the stairs I heard screaming. I saw Jeff was cornering Cindy and Kenny, looking ready to attack. Time slowed in that moment as I aimed my gun. I had known Jeff for so long, and I was about to shoot him, and if I missed, I would hit one of the kids in front of him. I took a breath, and yelled “Hey asshole, over here!” Jeff turned and screeched at me. I pulled the trigger, hitting him in the shoulder. He yelled out in pain, and for a second I thought I could hear Jeff. He fell to the floor, screaming out in pain. I saw him slowly transform back into the Jeff I knew. He looked up at us, and slowly said the words,” Kenny? What happened?” before passing out. Kenny looked at his dad, then at me, then threw up black goo onto the floor. I guess he really was sick.
The drive to the station felt like it took forever. I called in forensics and investigators to the scene once again. I ordered them to pick up the kids while I drove Jeff to the station, in fear of him somehow turning again. I don’t know what the hell might have caused him to transform like that, but whatever the hell it was, it was not something a human could do. This all felt odd, like something higher was in control here, but it didn’t make any sense. We had our suspect, hell we caught him in the act, but it still didn’t feel right. The way he looked up at Kenny, it all seemed odd. But it would be out of my hands soon. The force made the executive decision to hand over the case to the FBI, seeing as we were heavily under geared for such things like this. All this shit happening all of the sudden was scary. I mean shit, the person you think would be the least scared was the sheriff, but I guess we all have our secrets.
We treated Jeff’s wounds from the bullet, and his nose. He looked normal, but his vitals were all so off. We had him restrained in a holding cell until the FBI figured out what they wanted to do with him. I finally left the station after about 11 at night, but on the drive home something felt odd. I had this gut feeling in my stomach, telling me to look deeper into that cult thing. So I took a hard turn and headed towards the library. You see, the library held our town’s history, leading all the way back to the 1600s when the witch trials were being held. My pursuit of knowledge would prove to be an important one indeed.
I pulled up to the library, seeing the light just turn off. I saw the librarian Mr. Schultzwetz walking outside. I got out of my car and yelled out to him,” Mr. Schultzwetz, could you stop for a moment please?” He stopped and waved me over. “Thank you,” I said as I jogged over. “What do you need, Harry?” he asked. “Oh, I was wondering if I could look through some books, I need to find some older information on a case I am covering, I can lock up for you once I am done.” “Well sure, here’s the key.” he said as he handed me the keys with a smile.
I thanked him and headed past, opening up the doors and walking inside. The place was old, over 300 years at least. It smelled of old books and dust, but it was a comforting smell, like walking into your grandparent's house on Hanukkah, not that I would understand how that felt, seeing as I celebrated almost alone every year. Fuck, I sound sad. I looked around the place, and finally found the dated sections. I looked for the 70s and found what I was looking for. I searched through the newspaper clippings and log books until I found the murders that happened in ’71. They were committed by a group called The Dougals, apparently, they had origins that went back many generations. There was an original Dougal family, composed of Bearnard Dougal, the first male, Davina Dougal, the wife of Bearnard, Maddox Dougal, the eldest son, Fiona Dougal, the eldest daughter, and finally Ian Dougal, the youngest son. Apparently, the Dougals used to be quite the donors, giving wealth and shelter to many, but something in their youngest son Ian changed, and that is what started the Dougal cult. Apparently, he became obsessed with the existence of the Devil, seeing visions of him from a young age. His family cast him out of their home, and he was killed in 1690 by his father.
This sparked a group of people who had been cast out to become the cult known as the Douglas. The family was soon plagued by misfortunes and bad luck. Some saw it as a curse from Ian, while others saw it as a message from the Devil himself, showing his anger toward the family for killing his child. It's kind of ironic, the name of Ian, seeing its meaning as a gift from God, but he was more like a pain in the ass from Satan.
I looked through the paper, and found the name I was looking for: Caitlyn Dougal. Caitlyn was a direct descendant of Ian Dougal, who before he was killed, had a child with a woman named Adaline Birmingham, who was the daughter of the priest of the town. His name was Jeremiah, a well-respected man in the town. Adaline would meet with Ian late in the night while he was on the run from his family, apparently, they were friends, well more than friends in secret, but when she was found to be pregnant with a child of Ian, she was thought to be a witch, serving the Devil’s son Ian. She was going to be burned at the stake, but she died during childbirth, giving birth to George Dougal, Caitilyn’s great-great-great-great-great-great grandfather. Caitilyn was the leader of the cult in ’71, which led to the death of 4 teenagers and 1 adult, but there was no more information after that.
I looked over the paper, and through more, but I found nothing. I knew the history from our class when I was in highschool, but it would only take me so far. I had to look deeper, so I went deeper into time. I went to the 1600s section and looked for the Dougal family tree. They were one of the oldest families in town, with some surviving members today, so maybe I could connect a member to someone alive now. I looked and finally reached a dark-leather bound book that looked like it belonged in a museum. I carefully picked it out and opened it. I saw the family tree, and of course, Ian was crossed out. I followed it down until I found Caitlyn, and then that's when I saw it. She was married to Jeff. That's where the tree stopped, so it must have been written down before Kenny was born.
But this meant that Jeff was married to a Dougal, so could his possession come from Caitilyn? She had been killed in a standoff when the cult and a few officers were trapped in the old house up on Balar Street, which was believed to be on the remnants of an old witch trials ground. But why would Caitlyn possess Jeff? What did this all mean? As I thought this, the lights started blinking.
I froze with fear as books started to fly out of the shelves. Lights exploded and my ears started to ring. The ringing didn’t stop until I finally opened my eyes and I saw the phone sitting on the front desk of the library ringing. I strained myself to walk over, feeling like I weighed 1000 pounds. I finally reached the phone and answered it. Everything went still. “Hello?” I asked the phone. Static on the other end answered back. “Who the fuck is this?” I yelled into the phone. More static. Then I saw the pencil on the desk start to move. It went to the paper sitting on the desk, and it began to write. ‘KILLER’ it wrote. I finally started to understand what was happening.
“Who are you?” I asked the phone. The pencil spelled out ‘IAN’ it wrote. “Why are you here?” ‘I AM NOT EVIL’ it spelled. “What do you want?” ‘YOU ARE NOT SAFE’ “What do you mean?” ‘THE BOOK’. I reached over to the book and opened it, and the tree was gone. Inside were the words: The heart of a lover, The spine of a sinner, The eyes of the innocent, The head of the fool, The soul of the seer.
“What does this mean?” I asked hopefully. ‘HE IS HERE’ it wrote. I felt chills go up my back and neck. The pencil dropped and the room began to shake. I heard a loud crash behind me. I turned and saw bookcases falling over. I ducked as a desk was thrown at me by an invisible force. Then I heard these words from a low and dark voice,” Sin is a disease that comes from the darkness, it is of bitterness and dread, sadness and anger, and it calls out to the…COMING FROM ME!” it yelled as another table came my way. I ducked and jumped over the desk and hid against it. I heard large footsteps and some sort of growl come near me. I had 3 options, I could stand up and reveal my position to try and shoot whatever the hell it was, try and sneak away for a new hiding space, or try and reason with the monster. I weighed my options and decided to try and reason with the monster.
“What do you want?” I yelled. “You are treading on a dark path mortal, I suggest you stop trying to stop what is happening, or the gates of hell will open for you.” it boomed, making my ears bleed. “What are you?” I asked. “I am the evil in everyone, the shadow lurking in the halls, I am Satan,” it yelled. After it yelled that, the sound stopped. The wind swirling around the room vanished, and all movement came to a stop. I slowly got up and saw the tarnished room around me. I stepped over the desk and landed on the book. I picked it up, stuffed it into my jacket, and left without another word.
My drive home was terrifying, to say the least. I was maybe 10 minutes away when I saw what looked like a parked car on the side of the road, with the lights still on. I suspected it to be someone whose car had run out of gas, so I decided to pull up behind them and check on them. I walked over, shining my light, but there was no voice or response. I went to the window and shined my light inside, seeing no one, but the keys were still in the ignition, so the person had to have been here not long before. There was a bottle of whiskey in the front dash, so the person was drunk. I looked to the back seat of the car and saw what looked to be the blouse of a woman. I decided to check the trunk, to see if there were any belongings I could link to the driver.
I pulled on the trunk but it wouldn’t open, so I went to my car and grabbed the crowbar I keep in the back for this sort of thing. It’s a long story. Anyways, I used the crowbar to pop open the trunk, and there was what looked like a blanket covering something. I slowly lifted up the blanket, and I saw the body of a man, without his head, and shirtless, revealing scratch marks all over his torso.
I took out my cigarette, threw it aside, then threw up on the side of the road. After all, I had seen the past few weeks, this made me throw up. I am guessing it was from stress but jeez, something better should have done it in my opinion. I immediately radioed into anyone who may have been in the office, walked to my car, and went home.
I couldn’t sleep that night, so I decided to drink. I drank a lot, at least that's what I remember. I woke up on my couch to my cat Finn nuzzling my face. I looked at my watch, which read 2 in the afternoon. I got up and called work, saying I wouldn’t be there today. I went to shower, letting the water hit me as I thought about what's happened in the past weeks. I got out and looked at myself in the mirror. I had gotten skinnier, seeing as I had a bigger build in October, but now December brought me a new beach body. My eyes were sunken and had gained some new dark circles that were not there before.
I even noticed a few gray hairs, which annoyed me. I had been blessed with my dad’s hair, which was thick and voluminous, but now it seemed I had grown heavily in age, even though I was only 29 I felt like I was 60. I looked at my face. I was considered a handsome guy, hell in high school I got into it with Julie Harriet, who was a teen model for Calvin Klein, so she was definitely hot. But age is just hitting me now I guess. At least I didn’t inherit the addiction from him. I looked at my beard, which was now a scruffy mess. I picked up my shaver and started shaving. I gave myself a mustache, making me look like a real cop. I looked at my hair, which was now a longer mullet, which looked like total shit. I picked up some scissors, took a swig of beer, and chopped off some mop.
The end result wasn’t bad, it was my haircut from when I was a younger guy, about 22 years old. It was shorter, definitely, but I liked it. I left the bathroom and went to the living room to watch some television. I turned it on and the first thing I saw was a news report on our small town. There was some FBI guy talking, it kind of annoyed me though. We were off the case, so I wouldn’t have access to anything related to the case anymore. I felt I was so close, yet so far to the answer.
I decided to drive to the station, and try to talk to Jeff. I didn’t have a good feeling about him. He didn’t look like himself, hell he looked like something straight out of hell. As I was driving, the radio kept going static, and I felt sleepy. My eyes kept closing, so I was fighting to keep them awake. I didn’t wanna crash, so I pulled to the side of the road. I opened up my door and stepped out, but I stepped into a dark place. It was like I was in a room without the lights on. I looked back and my car was gone.
I heard some voices talking around me, but they were mumbling gibberish. I heard someone walking behind me, so I turned quickly and saw what looked like a younger man, mayne 24 or 25, with shoulder length black hair and pale skin. He had blood coming from his mouth and head. He looked dead. “Who are you?” I asked.”The soul of a seer is tainted with fear, do not be afraid.” he said as he walked closer. “Stay the fuck back!” I yelled as I reached for my gun, but it wasn't there. He stepped to me, and pushed me, sending me back into the floor, and I was falling.
I landed in what looked like a living room, but it was old. Looked to be from the 1600s. There was a boy, who looked to be 17, who ran into the room. Soon followed by an older man, who looked to be 40ish. “No son of mine shall live in sin! You are the spawn of Satan and must be punished!” he yelled as he hit the boy across the face. “Father please!” the son begged. I ran to try and stop the father from striking again but I just went through him, as if I wasn’t there. I felt a gush of wind and I was in a new place. I saw the same boy, now older, standing with a girl. The girl was pregnant. They were in a forest late at night, and they were probably there in secret. “I am going to be killed for being with you Ian.” she spoke. “Do not worry my love, stay hidden and have our child, he will be guided.” Ian spoke.
I felt another gust of wind and I saw Ian, being held down as someone, most likely his father, swung down a mallet onto his head, while saying the words,” May God take you in his gates, or you shall meet Satan you devil!” I felt one last gust of wind, and I ended up in a baby’s bedroomIt was quiet. I saw a bassinet with a baby inside. I read the name engraved on the side. Kenneth Ian Macher. I was looking at Kenny, but why?
I heard footsteps walk towards us. I turned and saw a black shadowy figure. It had horns, talons, and what looked to be bones sticking out of its back. It looked over Kenny and touched his chest, making a dark and perfect circle. The creature looked at me, and vanished. I was then back to the dark place, and there was Ian in front of me. “Open your eyes Harry.” he said. And so I did.
I was in my car, parked outside of an abandoned house.Its windows were boarded up, and the grass in front had turned into dirt. It looked like it was once pretty, but the tests of time had not done it justice. I got out of the car and walked over to the front. The mailbox was still there somehow. I looked at the markings on it. They were handprints. The biggest one was labeled J.T.M, the second biggest was labeled C.E.D, and the smallest one was the hand of a child, labeled K.I.M. This was Caitilyn’s house, from when she was a child. Jeff must have moved in when they got married or something.
I think I might have just cracked the case, or at least slightly opened it. I ran to my car and sped over to the station. I ran inside and made a beeline for the holding cells. I finally found Jeff, sitting there with a straightjacket on, looking at the corner. He looked sad, but I had to persist. “Jeff, can I talk to you for a second?” “Why?” he asked. “I wanna talk to you, friend to friend.” I said. “About what? About how I apparently went crazy even though the last thing I remember was making hot chocolate with my goddamn son!” he yelled. “No, well yes. This is about finding out who did this, and I need your help.” “I want to see my damn son.” “I don’t have the authorization to do that.” “Fine, what do you want?” “Well,” I thought for a moment. I decided to ask him about the cult, just to get it out of the way. “You married a Dougal, why?” “Cause she loved me and I loved her.” “Do you know their history?” “Yes, she said she wasn’t cursed, but look how that turned out?” “What about Ken, when is his birthday?” “In 2 days, on Christmas, I just want my son.” he whined.
“Harry, what the fuck are you doing in here?” a voice boomed. It was Agent Smith from the FBI. “Nothing, just talking to an old friend.” I said looking at him. He was an annoying guy. He was tall and lanky with fiery red hair. “Good, now get the hell out of here.” he said with a dark tone. “Sure thing.” I said as I walked past. He stopped me for a second before saying,” You mess with my case, you’re fucking done working here, hell you’re done being a good citizen because thats a crime, so be a good boy for me and help kittens out of the tree.” “Hey I am Sheriff I can do what I want with a case, you have no right to take that away from me!” I yelled at him, getting in his face. “He does.” said a voice from behind him.
Jim Parry, the Chief of Police of our district walked in between us. I have known him since I was a kid. He was our neighbor, who would let me in his house if my dad was out of control. He was kind of like a cool uncle to me. He was in his early sixties, but acted like a teenager. He was the kind of guy you could call when you’re drunk at a bar and need a ride home. I would know, I have done that a couple of times.
“Jim, you can’t let him do that! We’re so close!” “Stand down Sheriff Mackenzie, it's their choice, our hands are tied,” he said sadly. I looked at him, then back to Agent Smith, then walked past them both. “Oh and by the way, that report you made about the library, we found nothing. The place was fine, you fucking liar,” said Agent Smith. I flipped him the bird.
I got in my car and screamed. I was so stressed and angry, I wanted to punch something. I turned on my ignition and sped off. I don’t remember the drive much, but I ended up at some bar on the other side of town. I took off my badge and threw it on the passenger seat. I got out and walked inside. The place was blaring with music and booze, or at least the smell of booze. I walked up to the bar and ordered a shot of whiskey and a beer. I don’t remember much after that, but I know I got super drunk.
Next thing I knew, I was walking to the bathroom and some guy bumped into me. “Watch out buddy,” he said to me, getting in my face. “Oh yea? And what are you gonna do about it?” I slurred. “You asked for it,” he said as he winded back. I punched him in the gut, making him bend over. I punched his face, hearing a crack. His nose was bleeding, and my hand started to bleed as well. “Oh you piece of shit,” he said as he cracked me in the face. I felt my nose crack, and it started to bleed. I kneed him in the side, and finally hooked him across the face, knocking him out, and him coming down with a large thud.
I walked past him to the bathroom. I closed the door, muting the noise. I went to the sink and spit out some blood. I turned on the faucet and splashed my face. I looked up and saw someone behind me. I turned quickly, and I saw the face of Charlie. He was bloody and bruised on his face. “Ch-Charlie?” I asked. He quickly disappeared, leaving me confused. I turned back to the mirror when I felt a hand on my neck. It pushed me down into the now full-water sink. I opened my eyes and I was in a big room, in which a meeting was taking place. I turned behind me and saw Charlie again, looking at the meeting. I heard talking, so I turned back around.
I saw the figure of a man, who looked to be 35, standing on a platform with a little girl. He was speaking to a large crowd, with maybe about 100 members. “We gather here today to celebrate the future mother of our unholy king of darkness, who will be led by our lord Ian Dougal himself, and guide him to release Satan, and save the souls of the true beings!” he yelled, which was followed by cheers and clapping. “On the 25th of December, our son will be born, to cast a shadow on the false prophet of God and his own son Jesus.” Wait, is he talking about Ken?’ “He will topple God and slay his followers. With the heart of the lover, the spine of a sinner, the eyes of the innocent, the head of the fool, and the soul of the seer! In Ian Dougal’s name we pray, Praise Satan!” he yelled, followed by a “Praise Satan!” from the crowd. I walked to the little girl, who had blonde hair and green eyes. She looked so innocent, but she was smiling the entire time. I then realized it was Caitlyn. I was watching a cult meeting.
I went to touch her face, and my hand just went through her. I was there, but no one could see or feel me. What the hell was I experiencing? I walked down the stage and headed towards the door of the building, and stepped outside, into a new room. It was a room, but it was wrecked. It looked like the room that baby Kenny was in, except it looked like a bomb went off inside. I looked down and saw a symbol on the ground. It was a large circle with an x in the middle. Then I saw what looked to be a figure standing in the middle. I walked closer and saw Xavier. His eyes were cut out and his mouth was wide open. Then I looked down at his body, realizing it wasn’t there. He was on some sort of mannequin. I walked to the other side of it, looking at its spine. It was situated so that it held up Xavier’s head. I heard footsteps walking up some sort of stairs, so I turned and looked behind me. I saw a hooded figure walking toward the body, with something in a cloth in their hands. They reached the body, and lifted their hand, revealing 2 eyes in the cloth. They were green eyes. I connected the dots and realized they were the boy’s eyes from the basement, so then the spine must have been Charlie’s.
The figure put the eyes in Xavier’s head. I was behind them, watching them. They stopped what they were doing, and turned, looking straight at me. “The seer is present,” they said. How could they see me? “You’re being paranoid Ken.” said another figure, stepping out of the darkness. Holy fucking shit. It was Kenny. The killer was Kenny. It all started to make sense. Kenny drove Charlie’s dead body home with who I presume was Xavier on the street,watching them to make sure no one was there. He must have removed Charlie’s spine using the tools and saw at Jeff’s house. So Charlie must be the spine of the sinner. Now, for Owen, he must be innocent, because of his eyes. But how the hell did they possess Jeff? That didn’t make any sense, and how the hell did they even know Owen? He was an 8th grader. And what about Xavier, he must be the fool, but a fool of what? And who was the seer, whatever the hell that meant?
I opened my eyes and started to drown in the water. I pulled my head up out of the water, and took big breaths, coughing up water. I looked at my watch, which read 12:42 a.m. It was December 24, and Christmas was tomorrow. I ran out of the bar and got in my car. I sped to the station. I ran up the steps and went inside. I ran to the holding cells where Jeff was. “Jeff, what did Kenny do to you?” “What are you talking about?” he asked. “Did Kenny slip you something? Or hit you over the head?” “No, we had a couple of beers while we were in my shop, then after that it gets fuzzy and I end up on the floor with a gun aimed at my head.” he said angrily. “Jeff, I don’t know how you’re gonna take this, but your son is the killer. He is doing some voodoo shit and trying to bring back Ian Dougal!” I yelled. “What.” he said after a long pause. “I gotta go, do not let them take you anywhere without a trial or lawyer!” I yelled as I ran back to my car. He shouted after me but I couldn’t hear him.
I got home and ran to my bedroom. I grabbed the book I took from the library and opened it up, but there was nothing. The pages were empty. I closed it and opened it again, and still nothing. I flipped through the pages that held no words. I heard my phone ring from the kitchen, so I ran to grab it. I picked it up and heard a small voice on the other end. “Harry.” it said. “Yes, Ian? Charlie? Who is this?” I said. “An evil life, filled with pain and strife, will mend with the cut of a knife.” it said. “What?” I asked. “An evil life, filled with pain and strife, will mend with the cut of a knife.” it repeated over and over again. It kept repeating until it hung up. I dropped the phone and leaned on the counter. Then a lightbulb went off. I went to my room and grabbed the book. I went back to the kitchen and grabbed a knife, and a bottle of Fireball.
I walked to my sink, and placed the book in the sink. I took the knife and held it in my hand. In the other I grabbed the bottle of whiskey and took a gulp. I then ran the knife over my arm, giving me a cut. I let my blood drip down onto the book. I fixed myself up, then grabbed the book again. The cover was stained red. I opened it, and saw nothing at first, but then saw words start to spell out in a red liquid. “When the day strikes midnight in the morn’ of Christ’s Day, Satan will rise.” I looked over it again, then I realized that Kenny was at the house, preparing for the rise of Satan. I had less than a day to stop him, and my time was going by quickly
I went to grab my radio, but I remembered I wasn’t on the case anymore. This was going to be tricky, but I had to finish this solo. So I went to my bedroom, going to grab a change of clothes. But on my way I felt dizzy. My vision started to blur and go in and out. I felt weak, and collapsed, hitting my head on the kitchen counter.
I opened my eyes and I was in a living room. The walls were a beige color, and there was a simple couch and a coffee table in the middle. There were two people arguing. One was a man with salt and peppered hair. The other was a woman with a red feathered bob. I recognized them immediately to be my parents. “You’re fucking crazy Merideth! Don’t run off with some group who believes in that kind of shit!” he yelled at her. I looked at her, and realized she had a knife in her hand. “You shut the fuck up Trent! These people don’t hurt anybody, they want to bring us to power! Live in high society! We wouldn’t have to stay in this shithole town!” she yelled back. “Merideth you’re talking crazy! Do you know what that cult fucking does? What about Harry?” he yelled. “Join us you fool. Harry is a seer! He was chosen to be great, and this path is the way to his true life!” she said. “You’re a crazy bitch! You would be sending him to his own death! Like a lamb to the slaughter putting him in there!” “You can’t tell me what to do with my son! He is destined for greatness!” she said as she raised the knife. “Merideth stop it!” I looked at the wall which displayed their shadows, and something stood out to me. My father’s shadow was normal, but my mother’s was not.
It wasn’t copying her movements, but instead was shaped like a demon, and it looked like it was controlling her. “Stop!” I yelled as I punched the shadow on the wall. It reeled back in pain, and shrank to my mother’s shadow. She stopped her movement, and my father looked at her confused. “You, you are a powerful one Trent. I know now why my son is the way he is. If you do not wish for him to join us, so be it. The shadow of Satan will follow him through life. Harry will be the death of you.” she cursed. She then left the house, never to be seen again.
My father left the room, and went to my nursery. I saw baby me sleeping in a cradle. He stood over me with a look of fear on his face. He then looked at the cross that hung above me on the wall and took it down. He then went back to me and picked me up. He walked over to the small record player we had in my room, and put on a record. I heard the intro to "How's the World Treating You?” by Elvis Presley playing. “I’ve had nothing but sorrow, since you said we were through,” he started to sing softly to me. “There’s no hope for tomorrow, how’s the world treating you?” I started to tear up. I missed my father a lot, and now after all I have seen, I don’t think he left me when I was in middle school. I think those sons of bitches killed him. I let the tears fall as I continued to listen. I didn’t want to leave, but I remembered what was happening outside of this little paradise in my head. I slowly closed my eyes, letting the sound of my father carry me away.
I woke up to the sound of my television playing. I opened my eyes and my vision was blurry. I reached up and grabbed the counter, pulling myself up. There was some blood on the floor, mostly from my arm but some of it came from my head. I looked at my watch, it was 10:45 at night. I had been knocked out for hours, but it felt like 5 minutes. It was odd. I grabbed my keys from the counter and grabbed the book that was on the floor. I ran to my car and opened the trunk. I had a small revolver I used for my police shit, but I had a feeling it wouldn’t cut it. I got in the driver’s seat and sped off, heading to Mick’s Guns and Gear.
I walked into the place, and my face was filled with guns, knives, and other weapons. I saw Mick, the owner behind the counter, smoking a cigar and reading some magazine. “Hey Mick, I need some real firepower, what do you get for me?” I asked. He looked at me, then pointed to a shotgun up on the wall. It was a pump action, very deadly. I asked him to get it down from the wall and for some ammo. While he grabbed it, I spotted an ax among the handheld weapons. I grabbed it and loaded it onto the counter. I also grabbed a pack of cigarettes and paid. I hit the road, heading for the old house.
It took me about an hour to get there, so by the time I arrived, it was already 11:30. I didn’t have time to dance, so I unloaded my car and walked up to the house. The door was open, and the room behind it was sad and broken. Wood from the floor and walls were rotten, and it smelled like cat shit. There were candles lit around the place, but they didn’t do anything. There was a row of candles leading up the stairs, so I followed. It was quiet, too quiet. I felt like I was being watched. “Close your eyes” I heard in my head. I hesitated, but soon closed my eyes. I saw the inside of the house, and myself. It freaked me out, but then I traveled into a room where the two people before were there, waiting for me. “We know you can see us, stop hiding and come say hi,” said Kenny, looking directly in my direction.
I debated whether or not to do as he said. On the one hand, I had a gun and they didn’t, presumably, on the other hand, they knew where I was. I decided to come out of hiding. I had my shotgun and pistol on me, and the ax that was slung around my back. I walked to the room, shotgun aimed, ready for the worst. There they were, standing over the circle that was lit with candles looking at me. I saw the mannequin thing, in all its glory. “You have brought yourself out to us, well done Harry. As you have probably guessed, we are performing a ritual, and we need your compliance to finish it.” Kenny said. “Listen, Ken, this is not the right thing to do, you know this. Ian was not evil, hell he probably had some kind of mental illness or something.” “Oh, I know that, he was a seer and a presumed Devil Worshipper. It is what followed him that I bow my head to. Lord Satan, or savior. Now, Harry, I give you 3 choices. You could try and fight me, which will end in your death and a loss for nothing. You give yourself up to us now, and I will make your death as painless as possible. Or you could join us, give your soul to Satan and become one with the darkness.” he said while smirking.
“You’re acting like an idiot Ken, what about your father?” I asked. “Jeff, that imbecile was only a puppet for me. I needed him to finish the job on poor little Owen. It's quite funny actually, how we got Owen. It is so interesting how the promise of sex sways a prepubescent twerp’s mind. I have Cindy here to thank for that.” “What about Xavier, I am guessing you killed him too?” “No actually, that was Cindy. Again hormonal boys with the promise of sex are so easy to manipulate. And for Charlie, I just took him by brute force, tied him down, and sawed off his head while he was still alive. His last words were ’’Fuck you!” such a sad display of anger for something so amazing.” “You’re a sick fuck, Ken.” “Thank you.”
“So what will it be, Harry?” I looked around the room, and I made eye contact with Cindy. She looked uninterested in the conversation. “Cindy, you really think this dick is a good guy?” “No actually, I’m with him because he promised me anything I wanted.” Ken looked hurt at this, but quickly wiped it away with a grim. “Make your choice Harry, or I will make it for you.” I looked at him, then at Cindy. I pulled the trigger, hitting Ken in the stomach, but he didn’t move, hell he didn’t even bleed. “Such a fool you are,” he said as a black liquid engulfed his stomach, and healed his wound. He cracked his neck before his fingers turned into claws. His back sprouted spikes. He closed his eyes, and opened them with a smile, his eyes now red and his teeth spiked and crooked.
“Oh shit,” I said as I stepped back. “Kenny what the fuck!” Cindy yelled as she fell back into a corner of the room. “Shut up Cindy, I am getting tired of your nagging,” he said as he took a step forward toward me. I aimed and fired again, but he sank into the darkness of the floor. The shot hit a window and shattered it. I looked around until I felt an arm grab me from behind and lift me up into the air. I dropped the gun and he turned me towards him. He grabbed my throat with the other hand and started to choke me. I grabbed my pistol from my holster and fired at him. “Ow, you son of a bitch.” he said with a now monstrous voice. He threw me aside, causing me to hit the wall and send my pistol flying. I backed my back up to the wall as he stepped closer to me. “Ken, leave him alone!” Cindy shrieked from her corner. “Shut the fuck up!” he yelled at her as he turned to face her. I took the opportunity to grab the ax from my back and sliced him in the leg.
He yelled in pain, and I used it as my time to escape the wall. I started to feel pain echo from my rib, which must have meant it was broken. He turned back to me, and I threw the ax at his head, but he ducked, and the ax stuck into the wall again. He kept walking at me and raised his arm to claw me. That's when the gunshot rang out. We turned to see Cindy, gun aimed and in fear. “You treacherous witch!” Ken said as he moved toward her. He picked her up by the throat. “I have given you nothing but power and you do this to me. I realized I had forgotten one key part of my plan. The heart of the lover. You as my lover, and I as your executioner.” he said as he moved his hand up again. “Kenny please!” she cried out. He pushed his hand through her chest, emitting a loud crack. Her face was stunned. He pulled his hand out to reveal her still-beating heart. Her face looked stunned, the hole in her chest oozing out blood, and Kenny holding it in his hand. He dropped her to the ground and turned to the mannequin, and started walking to it.
He took the heart and placed it on a spit that was located in the middle. “She loved me, but she was too blinded by the promise of power to see that she herself was a part of the ritual. Such a shame. But now I am only missing one last piece to the puzzle, the soul of the seer.” he said as he turned to me. “Your father was a seer, did you know that?” “My family has been following your family for generations. A seer being born immediately after one is very rare. Your father was special, powerful some would say. You said he came here because he was a hippie, correct?” he asked. “Yes, he was tripped up on drugs, he was no seer,” I said. As much as it hurt, I didn’t want to believe Kenny. My father had been seeing things that I brushed off as him being high, but maybe he was a seer? But why would he come here, where this all started?
“Why did he come here, you ask?” said Kenny. I looked at him, seeing the amalgamation he had become. He now looked less like Kenny and more like a human-shaped monster with the voice of Kenny. “He tried to destroy the curse of Ian Dougal. He came here to try and fight the inevitable, but he ended up falling for one of our own. Meredith was her name. She understood your father was a seer, more than he could understand it anyways. She knew his blood was strong, his soul was strong, so she would play along until they had you. I am guessing you don’t know where your family comes from I presume? Well, to answer your burning question, they come from a long line of hardship, bad luck, and even witchcraft.” he said while smiling sickeningly.
“Your family is one of witches. Your family, the Mackenzies were once the Cessairs, the outcasts of Salemsport. They dabbled in voodoo, hoodoo, and dark magic. That is where the seer’s mark was started. A member of the family would be born with a power to see the past, present, and future. But you are special, you can see the dead, and even interact with it. You stopped your mother from killing your father by striking the evil inside of her. Your father probably saw you do that.” he said.
“In fact, he most likely saw you, standing where you are at this very moment. And now, he will see you die.” he said before lunging at me. I dodged him, rolling to the side. He crashed into the desk, splitting it into pieces. I ran to the wall where the ax was stuck. I yanked it from its place and spun around to face Kenny, or at least what was left of him.
He turned to me, his eyes red and his fangs long. “Put the ax down Harry.” he said in a deep and gurgled voice. I took a look at my watch, it was 11:54 at night. I just needed to stay alive for 6 more minutes, and this would all be over, I hoped. “Kenny, stand down.” I said. “This will all be over if you just stand down.” “I am afraid I cannot do that Harry, you have made your choice.” he said as his arm grew into a sword like weapon. I felt the blood from my head start to drip down my face. I noticed the large flame that started to grow around us. I realized we were in the middle of the circle, with no way out of the room. The flames started to grow into a sort of barrier, surrounding us. My brow started to sweat from the heat. I rolled up the sleeves of my shirt, he clanged his blade on the floor. I gripped my ax, he smiled and licked his chaps.
He made the first move, running at me with his blade up. He swung down and I blocked it with my ax, and punched him in the face, but I felt a crack go through my hand. I now had a broken rib and hand, just fucking great. I ran to the side, bringing my ax back up again. This time I swung down on him, but he blocked it with his blade. He pushed me back toward the flame, which caused me to drop my ax, but I gained my balance, feeling the fire singing off the hair on my arm. I was now unarmed, with my ax next to him. He kicked it over to me. “Pick it up,” he said. “I want you to feel like you have a chance at living.” he said with a grin. I stood without the ax. He walked to me while saying, “Such a poor choice Harry.” He swung his blade, hitting my leg and drawing blood, which made me drop to a knee. He used the tip of the blade to make me look up at him, to look into his eyes. He flicked up, giving me a scar from my chin up to my eye. I felt my vision start to go red in my left eye. I realized I couldn't see out of the eye. He had fucking blinded me in the eye, what a prick.
The blood dripped onto my shirt and onto the floor. He laughed at me, and then grabbed my neck with his normal arm. He started to squeeze, and I felt very dizzy. But then I felt time stop. He was frozen. I moved away from him, and I saw myself being choked by Kenny. I saw a man standing behind me, in the flames. It was my father. “Dad?’ I asked. “Hello Harry.” he said in a soft tone. “Dad, I’m scared, I’m going to die!” I yelled in fear. “You are strong Harry, you still have time.” he said as he looked at me on the ground. My watch, stained with blood, read 11:57. I walked to him, and he put a hand on my shoulder. “I am sorry Harry, I couldn't protect you. They hunted me down and murdered me. But now is your chance.” he said with a pause. “Do what I couldn’t do Harry, kill that son of a bitch.” I gripped his hand, before I turned back to myself. I walked and returned back to my body.
I opened my eyes and was faced with what I had seen prior. “What’s the matter? Seeing things that aren’t there?” he taunted. I looked at the ax next to me. I struggled, but I picked it up and sliced upward to his arm, cutting it clean off. He yelled in pain as his blood splattered everywhere. He fell back, and I got up from my knees. I caught my breath, before turning to him. He got up and faced me, his blade now up. He ran at me, and I ducked under him, slicing up once again, cutting off his blade, and in the process destroying my ax. His blade fell to the ground, and he screamed in pain, now missing both of his arms. He turned to me, cowering in fear. I slowly stepped up to him, picking up his blade in the process. He looked at me with fear, I looked at him with no expression.
The room around us was burning more and more. I looked once again at my watch. It read 11:58.I looked back to him, lifted the sword, and swung it down onto his head. I hadn’t killed Kenny, I had killed the monster. The blade went into his head, and stopped at his forehead. He fell backwards into the flames, his body becoming engulfed in the flames. I spit out blood that had collected in my mouth onto his body before I crouched down, and took the book out of my back pocket, and held it up to the flame. It caught a small fire. I reached into my other pocket and grabbed a pack of cigarettes, and I took one out with my mouth, and put the pack away. I held the book up to the cigarette, lighting it. I stood up, and tossed the book into the fire. I turned and saw an opening come out of the fire, giving me a way out.
I walked out of the house and into the street, where my car was parked. It was now 12:01 in the morning. I looked like shit. I took another puff from the cigarette, before flicking it on the ground, and stepping on it, putting it out. I got in my car and started driving home. I arrived home and went inside. I pet my cat as I walked in, and went to the kitchen. I poured myself a glass of whiskey, and downed it in one gulp. I went and took a shower, washing off my blood and whatever else I got on me that night. I got dressed and laid down in bed. I got a good sleep that night. I awoke to the sound of Christmas music playing on my radio. I rose and got ready for work.
I arrived to work with a broken rib, half blind, my hand in a sling, and choke marks around my neck. “Harry, you look like hell?” said my receptionist. “I just came back.” I said with a smile. “Did you hear about Kenneth Kinsley?” “What about him?” I said as I poured my coffee. “He shot himself last night, up in the Old House. He wrote a confession to the murders, describing every detail known. Jeff has been released on the account of Kenny’s plea. Must suck to be him right now huh?” she said. “You know, I think Jeff is going to be just fine.” Just then, the prick Agent Smith walked in the door. “The work of our investigation is done here, return to your normal work.” “Hey Williams!” I yelled. “Yes sir?” he said as he came to my call.
“You have just been promoted to Sheriff, congratulations.” I said to him, He smiled and thanked me. I started to walk out of the building. “Oh, Williams, can you fire me please?” I asked. I was standing next to Agent Smith while I asked this. “Uh, sure. Mackenzie you’re fired?” he said slowly. “Thanks Williams. And to Agent Smith, fuck you.” I said as I flipped him off walking away. His face was a mixture of anger and confusion, with a hint of embarrassment. “I’ll see you guys later! I’m thinking of moving to California, and learning how to surf. Merry fucking Christmas!” I yelled as I went to my car. I got in and revved the engine. I placed my aviators on my eyes, and sped off.
I moved to Reseda, California the next day. I bought a nice 3 bedroom place with a pool, and a new white Corvette with whatever money I had saved from being a Sheriff, which surprisingly was a lot. I took up a new teaching position at Reseda High School as an English teacher. That is where I met my wife of 5 years, Samantha Jimmenez, the Chemistry teacher. We got married 15 months after we met each other on April 18, 1988. We had our daughter 2 years later on March 15, 1990. I named her after my wife’s mother. Her full name was Julie Trent Mackenzie, with brown hair and gray eyes, like mine.
I remember telling my class about my days as a sheriff, and one of my students, whose name was Gillian Weinstein asked,” Why did you leave, and stop being a sheriff?” “Oh, that job put me through hell and back, and besides I couldn’t tell you about it, small town secrets don’t travel very far.”
Back in Salemsport, the charred remains of whatever was left of the old house on Balar Street had been swarmed by offices and investigators. Kenny’s body was found, a bullet in his brain, and all that had happened that night had been erased, all except for one. The book may have been burned, but it never was destroyed. Even through direct contact with fire it survived, and unbeknownst to Harry, years after the old house was eventually destroyed, the book remained, with it the evil held within, and that evil has to go somewhere, right?