Anna (Part 9)
The soft glow from various lit candles gave Joey’s bedroom a peaceful look that was so at odds with the reality of the house that it seemed unreal. Yet real or not, the room seemed to be the only haven available in a world suddenly gone wrong and the occupants of the room were more than happy to have it.
The glow grew brighter as Lance lit another candle before finally blowing out the match in his hand and tossing it in the garbage can.
The electricity had finally died out under the constant barrage from the storm, but not before JC and Joey had managed to find enough candles to last them through the night.
Between the candles and the flashlight that Joey held there was finally enough light available for them to examine Chris’ new injuries. JC and Justin finished carefully taking off the last article of Chris’ clothing, leaving him clad only in his underwear, before they laid him back down on the bed.
They all huddled around the prone form of their friend while Joey shone the flashlight on his body. JC and Joey gasped at the sight, while Lance whispered "my God," in a distant voice. Justin merely turned his head, unable to look any longer.
Chris’ body had become a canvass of angry, dark bruises and splattered blood. It was difficult to find a place on his skin that had remained clean and untouched. JC shuddered and began to run his hands over Chris’ body, searching for broken bones or anything that felt particularly tender that might indicate internal bleeding. As his fingers continued to poke at the bruised skin, he gave a silent prayer of thanks that Chris was unconscious and was feeling none of it.
After a few minutes he sighed and straightened, bringing his hands away from Chris’ body.
"Well?" Lance asked.
"Nothing feels broken, but shit, I’m not a doctor. I can’t say for sure. Lance, can you hand me that washcloth?" he asked as he reached his hand out.
Lance handed him both the washcloth and the bowl of water that they had prepared earlier.
JC dipped the washcloth in the water and gently began to wipe away the blood that covered Chris’ face. He moved slowly, careful not to add to Chris’ injuries.
At the point where he was done cleaning the blood from Chris’ face and had moved down toward his body, Chris moaned softly and stirred. JC dropped the washcloth and leaned forward to take Chris’ hand in his own. On the other side of the bed, Justin did the same thing.
"Chris? Can you hear me?" Justin asked softly.
Chris heard Justin’s voice calling his name, but only dimly, as if he were very far away. He struggled to make everything clearer, to try to shake away the heavy haze that wanted to pull him back into oblivion. He managed to open his left eye with great effort but his swollen right eye stayed stubbornly shut.
"Hey…how you feeling?" Justin asked in his gentlest voice.
Chris tried to speak but found that the pain in his body also extended to his mouth and his throat. His throat in particular, felt like it was on fire. A guttural cough was the only sound that emerged from his lips. He tried again and was able to force out the words, "Hurts. Wanna go home."
Justin leaned down and gently placed his free hand on Chris’ forehead. "We’re going to get you home as soon as we can."
Chris squeezed Justin’s hand as an intense wave of pain flowed through him. "Wanna go home…out of here…" His voice trailed off into a painful coughing fit and his visible eye rolled back into his head as he fell unconscious once more.
JC shook his head sadly and resumed his task of cleaning the blood from Chris’ body. Justin fixed Joey and Lance with a weary stare.
"Well?" he asked.
"Well what?" Joey asked.
"Ghosts?"
Lance cupped his face in his hands. "I don’t know about ghosts, but that was the freakiest, scariest shit that I’ve ever seen in my life."
"Lance is cussing. You know it was bad," Joey said.
"It was bad, you guys flew through the freaking air," JC said from his position on the bed.
"Don’t remind me. It felt like I ran into a brick wall that had arms," Lance said as he remembered the sensation.
Justin nodded at his assessment, then turned his gaze back to the bed. "Why just Chris? Why was he targeted?" he wondered aloud.
JC shook his head and gave a small shrug. "You’re guess is as good as mine, Curly."
"So what are we going to do, guys?" Joey asked.
"What can we do? We’re stuck here. We don’t know what we’re dealing with. And now that the phones are dead again, there’s no one we can ask for help. There’s nothing to do but try to make it out of here in one piece," JC answered.
"Easier said than done in this house," Joey said as he looked around nervously.
"All we have to do is get through one more night and then we’re out of here," JC said as he dipped the washcloth into the bowl. He was dismayed to see that the water now had a rose-colored tinge to it.
"I know this sounds like a big cliché, but I think if we stick together, we’ll be fine," Lance said.
"No, you’re right. We all stay here, no matter what. No one leaves this room. Safety in numbers," JC said.
"What about Chris? You know he has a habit of wandering around this house," Justin said.
JC looked down at the water in the bowl. It had to be changed. There was too much blood in it. "I don’t think Chris is going anywhere," he whispered softly.
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Later…
The room was dark and silent save for the deep, rhythmic breathing of the sleeping men that occupied it. The air, already cold from the failure of the heating system, suddenly grew colder as an icy breeze began to blow through the room. As the breeze intensified, it ruffled the hair of the man on the bed, becoming an invisible caress. He moaned softly, then slowly pushed himself up to a sitting position. His nerve endings screamed in protest at the movement but he did not stop. His subconscious mind, only vaguely aware underneath the veils of sleep and pain, was telling him that there was something that he had to do. Something very important that could only be accomplished tonight.
He silently stood and easily maneuvered around the bodies of his sleeping friends, until he was at the room’s threshold. As he walked across it and into the hallway, the breeze disappeared and all became still once more.
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Justin was in the middle of a very strange dream when he got the sudden urge to wake up. It was that instantaneous. One moment he was walking down the twisted hallways of a dark, old house and the next he was opening his eyes and staring at the ceiling above him.
He fully sat up in the chair he was occupying and looked around the room as his eyes tried to adjust to the darkness. It took a full minute, but finally Justin was able to make out distinct shapes . He looked in the direction of the bed, expecting to see Chris sleeping peacefully on it. Instead he noticed that the bed appeared empty, it’s covers strewn haphazardly over the bottom half of the bed. Justin jumped up from the chair and sprang toward where he knew the flashlight to be. The last vestiges of sleep left him as the beam of light revealed that Chris was no longer in the bed, nor anywhere else in the room.
"Not again," he said loudly with an edge of desperation in his voice.
He was about to start waking the others when he noticed that they were all slowly opening their eyes and groaning.
"What’s up with the light?" Joey asked as he looked up at Justin from his position on the floor.
"He’s gone," Justin whispered.
No one had to ask who Justin was referring to. They all instantly jumped up and began to haphazardly throw on their clothes in the dark.
"Where would he have gone?" Lance asked.
"God, he could be anywhere," JC said hopelessly. He looked at the others. "Should we split up?"
"Hell no. Not in this house we’re not," Joey said emphatically.
"Fine. We’ll stick together. We’ll just have to look everywhere."
"I think we should start with the sunroom and then the fireplace. That’s where things seem to happen," Justin suggested.
"All right. Let’s go then," JC said once everyone appeared ready.
They all clustered around Justin and the light as they began to move forward, staying as silent as possible as they listened for any sounds that would indicate where Chris had gone. When the sunroom proved to be empty, they began to walk towards the huge receiving room that held the stone fireplace.
They were at the entrance of it when they heard what sounded like noises of exertion coming from inside the room.
"He’s in there," Justin whispered.
JC nodded as an indication that they should go inside, but no one made any effort to move; the fear of what they would find in the room keeping them rooted to the spot.
JC finally gave Justin a slight push and he stumbled forward. This ignited the others’ momentum and soon they were walking into the room despite their fear.
With the aid of the moonlight that streaked in through the windows, they managed to see that Chris was kneeling in the exact same spot where he had fallen earlier. Justin swung the flashlight’s beam to dispel the shadows that seemed to be clinging to his body. Once the light had illuminated Chris, it was easy to see where the sounds of exertion had come from. Chris was clawing at the ground viciously, grunting with effort as he did so.
Justin wasted no time in handing the flashlight to Joey and running over to Chris, kneeling down in front of him. He managed to grab Chris’ hands and hold them still while he held them up to the sparse moonlight. Justin felt his stomach roil at the sight. Chris’ hands were a bloody mess. Even in the dim light, Justin could see that flesh had been scraped away from his knuckles and fingers and that most of his nails were missing. He then looked down and saw that apparently Chris’ efforts hadn’t been completely in vain, one of the floor’s wooden planks had been partially pulled up.
"Chris," Justin whispered in shock.
Chris pulled his hands back abruptly and continued to claw at the wood as if he could feel no pain. He began to murmur the word, "here", much as he had done earlier.
Justin again grabbed his hands, this time more roughly, and attempted to pull Chris towards him. "Stop it! Chris stop it!" he yelled as Chris squirmed to get away from his touch.
Justin was about to yell again when a huge roar from in front of him captured his attention. He looked up, startled by the sudden noise and his eyes widened at the sight in front of him. A blazing fire had started in the fireplace, the flames dancing and flickering with a vibrancy that he had never seen before. The fire illuminated the room with its orange glow, instantly dispelling the shadows to faraway corners.
"Holy shit," Joey said as he and the others took a step backwards.
Justin shook his head dazedly. "What the hell…?"
The still squirming man in his arms took his attention away from inexplicability of the fire starting on its own. He glanced down at Chris and saw that his bruised face seemed devoid of any emotion despite his frenzied movements.
"Here," Chris repeated in the same unnerving monotone.
"All right Chris. You want to see what’s here? We’ll see what’s here," he said with determination. He turned to look at Lance, JC and Joey who were staring at the fire with as if entranced.
"Guys," he called out loudly. Their bodies turned towards him in slow motion, their eyebrows identically raised in a silent question.
"Joey…Lance…I need you guys to hold him so he doesn’t hurt himself anymore. Don’t let him near that spot. Jace, will you come with me? We need to find something that’ll open up the floor."
"Yeah, sure," Joey said, handing the flashlight to JC who gripped it tightly.
"All right. I’m gonna let him go. Ready?" Justin asked as he looked up.
Lance and Joey both nodded grimly. Justin released his hold on Chris and stood up and backed away quickly. Almost instantly, both Joey and Lance had their arms wrapped around Chris’ body as they dragged him away from the partially upturned plank. Justin watched for a moment as Chris’ struggles increased ten-fold as he tried to get back to the spot, but both Joey and Lance held on tight. He felt a tug at his arm and turned to see that JC was already in front of him, flashlight held in a death grip.
"Come on," JC urged as he gave one last tug. Justin turned and followed JC out of the room, both running as quickly as they dared into the dark recesses of the house.
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Lance and Joey exchanged identical looks of frustration and worry. They had been fighting to hold Chris down and away from the floorboards for far too long and they were both exhausted. Chris on the other hand seemed unfazed by all the effort he was putting into trying to get away from his friends. He continued to buck and writhe with an energy he shouldn’t have possessed after the beating his body had sustained.
"What the hell’s taking them so long?" Joey asked.
"I don’t know, but shit, this is like trying to hold down a wild animal," Lance said as he held on to a flailing wrist.
Joey was about to respond when the sound of running footsteps grabbed his attention. Both he and Lance sighed with relief when they saw Justin and JC coming through the other entrance. They quickly took notice of the crowbar in Justin’s hands.
"Where’d you find that?" Lance asked.
"Garage," JC said breathlessly.
"Well, hurry up, we can’t hold on to him much longer," Joey said as he again tightened his hold on Chris.
Justin nodded as he dropped to his knees and took a close look at the place where Chris had been digging. He was surprised to see that the floor underneath the upturned plank was hollow. He placed one end of the crowbar under the plank of wood and pushed down with all his strength on the other end. It came up easily, as if it had merely been waiting for someone to take this action.
Feeling suddenly invigorated by this small victory he began to do the same to the other planks of wood. They too came up easily after only a couple of tries.
Once the last plank of wood was pulled up, JC positioned the flashlight so that it illuminated the hole that had been revealed. Both he and Justin leaned down to get a better look inside. The hole was about four feet deep and five feet long and at the bottom of it lay what looked like a pile of rags.
Justin turned to JC with wide eyes.
"Go ahead," JC whispered.
Justin reached down and, grabbing hold of the rags was surprised to feel that they were actually some kind of heavy sheet and that it held something inside. He very carefully pulled the bundle out of the hole and held it reverently in his arms. It weighed almost nothing. He set it down beside himself and slowly unwound the sheet.
Justin gasped harshly and inadvertently drew back from the sight before him. He vaguely heard similar intakes of breath come from his friends as they too gazed upon what the sheet had hidden.
In the dirty linen lay a skeleton, its bones gleaming with a sickly yellow color in the firelight. It appeared completely desiccated, indicating that it had lain there for a long time. Justin felt a shiver of unease run up his spine as he looked at the skull and the empty sockets that had once held a human being’s eyes. He found himself wondering sadly how one human being could to this to another.
He turned his head and saw that Chris was slowly crawling toward the remains. His face was calm, serene. Almost as if he could feel the heat from Justin’s intense gaze, Chris’ good eye came up to meet Justin’s.
Chris opened his mouth and began to speak. The words were soft and lilting and spoken without pain. His eyes were very far away. "He loved her. And he hated her because she didn’t love him back. That’s why he hurt her. That’s why he took from her what she wouldn’t give him willingly. When he found out there was a child, he killed her. Right there in her favorite room; strangled her until she was dead. Then he buried her here. She’s been so lonely. She’s been so sad…all this time…"
Justin didn’t know what to say. He continued to look at his friend, wondering if there was more. But Chris was done. He slumped forward bonelessly and would have hit the floor if Justin hadn’t moved forward quickly to catch him.
Justin looked down at the now unconscious man in his arms and shifted him until he was cradling him like a child. He was breathing evenly and despite all the bruises he appeared to be in no pain.
‘Is it over now?’ Justin whispered into Chris’ dark hair, although he wasn’t really sure who he was asking.
Almost as if to answer his question, the huge fire that was raging just behind them suddenly died while all the lights in the house flickered on. After the hours of darkness, the brightness of the lights was almost intrusive and all four men found themselves squinting their eyes against it.
No one moved for a few minutes as they each struggled to accept all that they had seen. To an outsider they would have appeared to be nothing more than realistic-looking statues.
Joey finally broke the effect by standing up on legs so shaky that they felt as if they would give out on him at any moment. "I’m going to call the sheriff’s office now," he whispered. "I have a feeling that the phones are gonna work now."
Justin nodded. "Yeah, they’ll work. Because it IS over," he said as he looked sadly at what remained of a woman whose life was stolen so long ago.