Fade: Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Sixteen1

The first things I noticed were the pictures. Normal pictures, of normal people, people I thought perhaps I knew...but couldn’t place. There were no horrific pictures of mangled cars or police officers informing people of grim things. 2

“...Now, where do we start searching.” Deborah said aloud.3

I patted the head of the small rag-doll and tried to think. I remembered the picture in my pocket, and pulled it out. I stared at the face of the enigmatic girl who shared my first name...and the name of my neighbors.4

Melissa Thatcher, Age 95

I took a deep breath while Deborah walked up and down the hall, checking to see which doors were locked and which ones were not. 6

I will return to my house from which I came. The verse from the strange bible verse ran through my mind. 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.7

I paused. What did it all mean, I wondered, was it a room itself...or was it...something more personal? And then there were Maggie’s words on the telephone. “Up passed the hill...” But I had gone to the top of the hill, I had seen the car crash into a tree like in the picture, and I had run to the Thatcher’s room near the picture of the...8

“Wait, Deborah.” I said as I stuffed the picture down in the same pocket as the small dolly. “I know where they are. Where your partner is.” I added.9

“Where?” Deborah’s eyes lightened up, and she quickly walked back toward me. “How...wait, never mind that, where is he?” She asked, becoming visually more desperate. “Please, tell me.”10

“...There.” I pointed to the door to my right, the door nearest the landing of the stairway. The door that resembled the door in the Thatcher’s house, a door that to me–had a picture of a car crashed into a hill when it was in the Thatcher’s house, a door that now had a picture of a young woman next to it.11

“You’re sure?” Deborah asked as she cocked her gun. “If so...let’s be cautious.” She added. “I don’t want it to end now, now that we’ve come so far.”12

I nodded, and Deborah’s hand stretched out toward the shiny, new doorknob. The door opened with ease, and Deborah bit her lip for a moment, as the two of us entered in.13

It was Maggie. And Nathan. Just as I thought, just as we had thought, and yet it was just as we had not thought, as we had dreaded in our hearts.14

Nathan’s body was laying in a mock-pentagram, his legs out at an angle similar to his legs. His eyes were not within in head, but rather ripped out and placed in his hands, and his tongue was laying near his left ear. Maggie–as I said was there–was bent over Nathan’s mangled body.15

“SON OF A BITCH!” Deborah’s words were loud, but unheard over the thundering sound of her gun. She fired three times into Maggie’s back, sending her rolling off to the side in a lifeless heap.16

I looked over at Deborah, whose eyes were tearing with hate and sorrow. I was sacred, and looked back to find the door shut–more over...it was shut and there was a picture on the wall as if we were outside the door. A picture of a car crash.17

Deborah rushed to Nathan’s side. He was obviously dead, because aside from his face being mangled, a pool of crimson blood had saturated the floor beneath him, perhaps steaming from some type of wound.18

“Why!?” Deborah moaned as she clutched her partner’s chest, unable to look at what used to be his head, but was now a mound of bloody flesh. “Who the fuck...” She moaned again, unable to restrain her emotions. I was panicking, but also relieved...Maggie...she did this...and now she was dead. Over.19

First, her hand moved. It was as if she was a monster, pushing her grasping hand out of her grave and onto the surface. I jumped. “Deborah...” I said, backing up to the door, and jumbling with the doorknob, Deborah was unconsolable, and the door was locked.20

Maggie’s legs twitched now, and she sat up allowing her head to fall to the side. “Deborah!” I yelled, still no answer. Maggie’s small legs now took balance against the floor, and as Deborah fell against Nathan in a delusional heap, Maggie’s hands felt over her bullet-riddled body.21

“Play nice.” Maggie said calmly as she pushed her head back in it’s proper position. “It’s not fair to use guns Missy.” She added, walking toward me. “If you cheat again...I’ll cry.”22

I took a deep breath. “Who ever...what ever you are, stay back!” I yelled, staring into Maggie’s coal-black eyes. “I...I warn you, stay back!”23

“You’re mean.” Maggie said. “Everyone loves you Missy! You get everything!” She yelled. “Everything! Mommy always says, “Missy this, Missy that.” Daddy always talks to you, and does special things with you! Everything!” The small girl’s body began to rise into the air above me. “MISSY GETS EVERYTHING” It growled with inhuman monstrosity. “EVERYTHING IS FOR YOU MISSY!”24

I tried to breath, it was labored, and I tried to swallow, my throat was too tense to allow it. I bit my lip, and cowardly stepped forward from the door. “Who are you!?” I yelled. “Please, tell me what’s going on!?”25

Maggie’s eyes rolled back and forth as if she was in mid-dream. Her mouth hung open, and I swear I could hear wind echoing about as if she was hollow. “YOU DENY IT MISSY.” The words, echoed from her stomach without her mouth moving. “WHY DO YOU DENY IT? YOU GET EVERYTHING. EVERYTHING IS FOR YOU! DON’T ACT AS IF YOU’RE IGNORANT?! DON’T YOU DARE ASK ME...ME SUCH...DO NOT ASK ME SUCH THINGS!*” A blast of chilling air flew through my body, and Maggie’s body contorted in the air, the windows shattered all around us, and the glass from the nearby pictures cracked into pieces.26

Suddenly, a sound of thunder, followed by a bullet shooting through Maggie’s body and into the wall above me. Then another, and another, and yet another, until the body slowly fell to the ground like a balloon, it’s body bleeding out blood as if it were deflating itself of air.27

I looked over and took a deep sigh of relief, Deborah was panting, clutching her gun in her hand. She would have shot at the inhuman body again, but her gun just clicked–she had riddled the thing with the last of her bullets. She looked to me and smiled as she fell to the ground, blood splattered against the floor with a sickening sound. Her gun tumbled out of her hand, and my attention was drawn to her back.28

A small steak knife was stabbed in her back numerous times, taking its final rest near the nape of her neck. A figure stood up with blood stained hands, and my own blood ran cold with fear and shock.29

It couldn’t be, and yet it was.30

Mother.31