Fade: Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fourteen1

The little light that dawn had brought had faded by the time we resurfaced in the Thatcher’s living room. A mass of dense clouds had filled the sky, gravid with rain and flashing with lightning. The instant warmth of the air had clung to my skin and was making me sick, but I still shuffled through books in hopes of finding a bible. 2

The house seemed to breathe in with tension, and exhale with panic. I still didn’t know much of what was going on. Deborah, Nathan, Maggie–and mom. Why was all this happening? I didn’t understand.  I didn’t think I could. The most I could do was try to stay alive, although I still owed myself the answers.3

As Deborah searched the living room bookshelves, I stopped for a moment to catch my breath. The Thatchers, Nathan and Deborah, and me. There was a connection. Otherwise–we wouldn’t have been trapped in the nightmare overtaking the town, the hellish visions that surrounded me like an army. There had to be a connection.4

I heard Deborah clear her throat. “When the unclean spirit has gone out of a person, it wanders through the waterless regions looking for a resting place, but not finding any it says ‘I will return to my house from which I came.’.” I walked over as Deborah laid the book down on the end table, under the light.5

When It comes, it finds it swept and put in order. Then it goes and brings seven other spirits more evil than itself, and they enter and live there; and the last state of that person is worse than the first.6

“Whatever that means” Deborah sighed.7

“Hey look.” I said as I turned the page, revealing a cut out notch just behind the previous verse. Inside the holy-writ’s hole, was a small-rusted key. I reached in and took the key out. I held it in my hand as if it was made of precious jewels.8

“Are you ready then?” Deborah asked as she looked up the stairway. “One we open that door–there is no going back. Stay close to me, and, try to be calm.” I nodded as Deborah put her foot down upon the first of fourteen squealing steps.9

The pictures in front of the door still stood, reminding us that Maggie was lying behind it. I stretched out my hands and slid the rusty key into the doorknob, as I turned it Deborah cocked her gun and stood beside the door. The door opened. No one was there.10

“What the hell is going on now?” Deborah asked as she held her gun tight, and entered the room.11

The room was unlike any we had seen so far. Unlike the rest of the house’s dilapidated rooms and dust-caked furniture, the ‘master bedroom’ seemed as new as the day it had been purchased.12

I entered the room first, and curiosity and fear pushed me forward. The room seemed sickeningly familiar, and yet I couldn’t have ever seen it before. I might have known Maggie from school, but I had never been in her house. Never.13

And yet, the room called to me with nostalgic cries. The walls were lined with tasteful, rose-printed paper. The windows were pristine, showing a view of my house and the looming hill. Everything was in place, as if time had enveloped the entire Thatcher home, saving only the room.14

“Nathan . . . ” Deborah sighed as she holstered her gun. “...Where are you?”15

I walked over to the large, silk-covered bed and ran my hand across it. Soft. 16

“Deborah . . . ” I said hesitantly, my curiosity was beginning to override my fear.17

“Yes?” Deborah replied as she turned to look at me, her dark hair overshadowed her weary eyes.18

“You said . . . that woman downstairs was . . . Maggie’s mom right? Then . . . this is her bedroom?” I asked, wanting to know more about what Deborah had seen or knew.19

Deborah nodded. “Yes. Jessica Thatcher. I...” She paused. “Yes, that was her. At least . . . it looked like her.”20

“She had a daughter right?” 21

Deborah stared into my eyes as if she was debating something. “...Yes.” She said hesitantly. “Margaret, I believe.” 22

“She . . . isn’t nine years old, is she?” I paused. “Not now?”23

Deborah shook her head. “No . . . Margaret is seventeen now. Must . . . be about your age?”24

I nodded. “Then it’s not just me . . . ” I said, thinking back to when I first met this ‘Maggie’.25

“When I find Nathan . . . ” Deborah began. “There are some things I think we need to discuss.” I looked at Deborah and wondered what she meant, but then again, I wanted to ‘discuss’ things too, that, and I wanted to find my mom. I wanted to know where she was, and what was going on.26

Within seconds, it seemed again like I would never find the answers.27

Deborah turned toward the door, we both heard something running up the stairs. It was the sound of rushing legs, like a horde of creatures. As Deborah rushed to the open door, the maimed head of a dog shoved through, gnashing its teeth together like a rabid monster. 28

“Get back!” Deborah yelled as she slammed the door shut. The dog’s head remained wedged between the door, Deborah was pushing on it with all her might, but the dog’s seizure-like convulsions kept pushing it forward, it’s only instinct was to rip us into pieces.29

I rushed forward, and pushed on the door along with Deborah, we managed to push back the dog’s distorted head, but its teeth gnashed about regardless.30

“I thought I told you to stay back?” Deborah panted as the dog pushed with particular strength. 31

“It . . . Looked like you needed help.” I said as I threw my body into the door. “Why don’t you try shooting it!?” I asked panic-stricken.32

Deborah reached over to her holster now that she didn’t have to push at onto the door. She whipped out her hand gun and motioned for me to move, the dog pushed in passed its shoulders, but it stopped when Deborah unloaded three rounds of lead into it’s fleshy-skull.33

I let out a deep sigh as the dog convulsed on the floor. “Is it even dead?” I asked.34

“Who knows? That . . . thing looks like the dog that was ripped apart outside. It was already dead . . . ”35

“So how did it . . . ” I paused. “Why is this happening? It’s like it’s some kind of demon . . . ” 36

Deborah walked over to the door and shut it, locking it with the rusty key. “Demon or not, we have to find away to get out of here. Who knows how many things there are in this house?” She paused, obviously thinking of Nathan.37

I was thinking of something completely different. The bible verse. For some reason it just seemed odd, like we were supposed to find the verse in order to get inside the room. The room passed the hill.38

“When the unclean spirit as gone out of a person, it wanders through the waterless regions looking for a resting place, but not finding any it says ‘I will return to my house from which I came.’.” I said, thinking aloud while I looked down at the lifeless heap on the floor.39

Deborah turned to me and looked puzzled. “What are you?...”40

I continued. “When It comes, it finds it swept and put in order. Then it goes and brings seven other spirits more evil than itself, and they enter and live there; and the last state of that person is worse than the first.” I nodded. “It’s like the verse in the bible. The one written beneath the dead woman . . . ”41

Deborah looked down at the dog’s maimed body, thinking it all over. “So it was a trap.” She said out loud. “But . . . why?”42

“Maggie told me to come here. To this room. If it was a trap why would she lock the door? I think maybe . . . maybe it was a warning.”43

Deborah looked confused, I think because I said that Maggie had told me to come here. “This one room was clean and ‘put in order’. Then that creature runs up here . . . It is like the verse. But if this ‘Maggie’ told you to come here . . . why would she warn you not to?”44

We both paused.45

“Nathan.” Deborah sighed as she holstered her gun again. I nodded. “The message was from Nathan, not this ‘Maggie’. Wasn’t it?”46

“It had to have been. But it’s too late, now we’re stuck up here.” I said plainly. “Who knows if there are any more things like that downstairs?”47

Deborah nodded. “First we’ll search this room, for anything. There . . . has to be an explanation for all this. Then . . . we’ll try to find a way out.”48

I nodded. I wanted out of the house, but I also wanted answers. So many things seemed connected, but something wasn’t there. Something was missing. A loud, contorted howl could be heard as Deborah and I began to ransack the room. We knew that it was only the beginning.49