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  “What is that?” she asked, still perched on the loveseat that was backed up against the wall, under the window.

  “I don’t know, get away from the window.”

  “Do you think there’s a fire?” asked Alma as she continued to ignore her brother’s command.

  He grabbed the back of her dress and pulled her back. The fog swept over the street and started to blot out the sun, causing the cabin to grow dark. Green lightning flashed within the cloud, and it crackled along the frame of the cabin.

  Soon, the fog enveloped the house, blocking out all of the light except for what was coming from upstairs. Killer yapped furiously as Ben stared at the light up the stairs.

  “I need to go tell Dad,” said Ben.

  “No!” Alma took her brother’s arm with both of hers. “You know you can’t. You can’t go up there.”

  “I have to. I have to make sure he knows what’s going on.”

  “He’ll kill you, Ben. Please don’t go up there.”

  He pulled out of her grip and went to the stairs. The green electricity continued to flash and illuminate the living room, casting wicked shadows on the walls. He reached the bottom of the stairs as Alma continued to plead with him to stop, but he knew that he had to tell their father what was happening. The light in the hallway was still on, but it flickered as he made his way to the master bedroom door.

  He knocked, but heard no response.

  He tried again, and thought he heard someone in the room choking. Ben put his ear to the door, and was certain of what he heard. “Dad?” he asked and knocked again. The choking persisted, and no one answered him.

  Ben pushed the door open.

  Terry was on the floor, nude, and her hands were shaking as her head flopped back and forth. Her red hair was mopped with sweat and her eyes were aflame with red veins. She turned and stared at Ben and white foam formed on her lips as she tried to speak. The foam fell from her mouth and dripped to the floor as she reached out to him.

  Ben’s father appeared in the master bedroom’s bathroom. He had a cup of water in his hand and stopped when he saw Ben. “What did I tell you?” He screamed and dropped the cup of water. It bounced on the floor at his feet and water spilled out as the furious man charged through the room.

  “What happened?” asked Ben, terrified.

  “You little mother fucker, I told you not to come in here.” Michael Harper grabbed his son by the arm and slapped the boy across the face. Then he slammed his head into the door as he continued to curse at him.

  Tears sprang to Ben’s eyes as he screamed an apology. He could hear Alma crying at the bottom of the stairs, pleading with their father not to hurt Ben.

  “Get in here, you little shit.” He pulled Ben into the room. “Alma, shut up and stay down there.”

  “Daddy,” said Alma. “There’s smoke outside.”

  “I don’t give a fuck if the Devil’s at the door, girl. You shut the fuck up and watch your movies. If I hear one peep out of you, I swear to God I’ll kill you.” He slammed the door and then turned to Ben. “Well, kid, you did it now. You fucked up for real this time.”

  “What’s wrong? What happened to Terry?”

  “She’s fucking dying, that’s what’s wrong. The bitch OD’ed.”

  “Should we call an ambulance?”

  “No,” said his father. “No, that’s not what we’re going to do. You’re going to help me get her up.”

  Terry started to convulse and her arms slapped against the floor as her head bounced. The white foam spewed from her mouth, followed by a putrid yellow fluid that splashed on her cheeks.

  “Clean the shit out of her mouth,” said Ben’s father. “I’ll get some more water for her.”

  “Daddy, she’s naked.”

  He looked at Ben as if disgusted. “So what? You’re the one that came in here when you weren’t supposed to. It’s time to grow the fuck up, Ben. Now scoop that shit out of her mouth.”

  Ben moved on his knees over to the shaking woman. Her breasts flopped around as she shook, and he was ashamed to look at her. The veins in her chest and neck were blue, engorged, and easily visible through her pale skin. He tried to put his hand on her head to hold her down and clean out the foam from her mouth, but the contact of his hand alerted her to his presence. She reached out and clawed at his head and shoulders in a desperate attempt to pull him down.

  “Dad!” Ben screamed as the woman clawed at him. “Help!”

  His father ran back in the room, but Terry’s arms fell suddenly limp. They hit the floor and only had the strength to twitch. Ben fell backward and scooted away as he wiped foam and bile from his shirt.

  “What did you do?” asked his father.

  “Nothing. I tried to help, like you said, but she grabbed me.”

  His father bent down and placed his fingers on Terry’s throat. “Jesus fucking Christ, Ben. You killed her.”

  “I didn’t, Dad. I swear!”

  “Well she’s dead. She’s dead, Ben. She’s dead now!”

  “I didn’t do anything.” Ben started to cry. “I was trying to help.”

  “Well, now we’re fucked. You killed her.”

  “Dad,” said Ben. “You have to believe me, I didn’t do anything to her.”

  “Stop panicking,” said his father. “We’ll figure this out. I’m not going to let you go to jail. Okay, Ben? I’ll protect you.” He stood up tall and started to look around the room with his hand on his chin, as if surveying the scene in search of clues.

  He snapped his fingers and pointed at Ben. “I’ve got a plan, but I’m going to need your help.”

  “Okay,” said Ben. “What do you need?”

  “Go downstairs and start boiling some pots of water. Then get all of the cleaners from under the sink. Don’t ask questions, just do what I say.” He bent down and put his arms under Terry as he started to drag her toward the bathroom.

  “What are you going to do?”

  He dropped Terry and her body thumped on the floor as he stood and glared at Ben. “What did I just say? No fucking questions. Go do as I say or they’re going to put you in jail for this.”

  Ben wiped his tears away and ran back downstairs.

  “What happened?” asked Alma, but Ben ignored her as he went to the kitchen. She followed and asked again, “Ben, what happened? Did you tell him about the smoke? Ben, talk to me.”

  “I can’t, Alma.” He got a pot out and started to fill it in the sink.

  “The smoke is getting thicker, Ben. What are you going to do with that water? Ben, stop ignoring me. What happened upstairs?”

  “Alma, shut up,” said Ben, and the verbal assault stunned his sister. “You’ve got to just shut up and go watch your movie. Dad and I are doing adult things. Okay?”

  “No, it’s not okay. Why are you being mean to me?”

  He put the first pot on the stove and turned on the burner to high. Then he went to fill another. “I’m just trying to protect you.”

  “I’m going upstairs,” said Alma in defiance.

  “No!”

  “Why not? You went up there, and Dad didn’t kill you. I’m going up there too.”

  Ben grabbed his sister and threw her to the floor. “You do as you’re told! Stay down here.”

  “Stop being mean to me,” said Alma, and her voice cracked as she started to cry. Her tears broke Ben’s heart, but he had to do everything he could to keep her downstairs.

  “Do as you’re told, Alma.” Ben set the second pot on the stove and then started to gather the cleaning supplies. He went back upstairs with his arms full of various bottles for his father.

  He found him in the bathroom. Michael had dragged Terry into the tub where she looked almost alive, her head drooped to the side as she sat against the porcelain. Ben’s father took the bottles one by one. His eyes were bloodshot and his hands were shaking as he inspected the cleaners. He was biting his nails down too far and had caused a few of his fingers to bleed. Ben was terrified, but
stayed stoic, hoping to impress his father.

  “All right,” said his father as he continued to chew his nails. “This is what we’re going to do. This bitch is dead, and we’re going to have to get rid of her body. I know we can do it. Okay?”

  Ben saw Terry’s eye twitch. “Dad, I don’t think she’s dead.”

  His father scowled and slammed his palm on the side of the tub. “Don’t be an idiot. She’s dead, dead, dead, and you killed her. You stupid fuck, I’m trying to help you. You want to go to jail for the rest of your life?”

  “No, sir.”

  “Then do exactly as I say and don’t contradict me again. Terry is dead. We have to figure out how to get rid of her body. Are you crying? Are you seriously crying?”

  Ben shook his head, but the tears wouldn’t stop.

  “You’re the one that did this. You’re the one that came into the bedroom when you weren’t supposed to. You’re the one that thought he was an adult. Well, this is what adults have to deal with. Okay? You need to act like an adult now.”

  “I don’t want to,” said Ben pathetically. “I want to go watch my movie with Alma. I don’t want to be an adult.”

  “Too late, Ben. It’s too late for that. Now go downstairs and see if the water is boiling. Okay?”

  “Yes, sir.” Ben ran out of the bathroom.

  His father yelled out to him, “Bring the water up once it starts to boil.”

  Ben ran to the kitchen and yelled at Alma to leave him alone as he cried. He got a pair of oven mitts and then stood by the stove, watching as the water sat on the burners.

  “Ben, please tell me what’s going on up there.”

  Ben just shook his head and continued to cry. Killer spun in his cage and started to bark when a flash of green electricity illuminated the room.

  Alma stood beside her brother and waited for the water to boil. She didn’t say anything, but seemed to want to be supportive of her brother as he was obviously struggling with something terrible. Ben lifted the pot off the stove and walked past his sister. He was careful as he carried the pot up the stairs, but some of it still spilled over the edge.

  His father was in the bathroom, and had filled the bottom of the tub with some hot water from the tap. Terry was now laying at the bottom of the tub, her hair waving in the water and her bloodshot eyes stared straight up. Her mouth was open and the white foam still bubbled between her red, chapped lips.

  “Good job, kid. Set the pot on the toilet and get the bleach. That’s the white jug over there, with the blue cap. Yeah, that’s the one. Go ahead and push down on the cap and turn it. There you go, you’re doing good. Now bring it over here and pour it in the tub. We’ll figure out how to do this. You and me, kid. We’ll figure it out. We’ll melt this bitch down to bones if we have to. Okay? Good, good. Just pour it in the water like that. You’re doing great. You’re a real adult now, a big boy. All adults have to do this kind of thing from time to time. There’s no need to cry, just keep pouring. Yeah, all of it. The whole thing.”

  The bleach stung Ben’s eyes and he had to turn away as his father continued to speak in a manic slur of words.

  “Go ahead and get the purple stuff. The bottle with the yellow cap. Twist it off the same way you did the bleach and then pour it in too. That’s a good boy. You’re a pro. You’re making me proud.”

  Ben’s father stepped back and stood in the corner of the room. He continued to bite his nails as he watched his son pour the chemicals into the tub.

  “Go ahead and pour all of the bottles in. Fuck it, just pour them all in there. One of them’s got to do the trick. Is that everything that you could find downstairs? Yeah? Okay, well I guess it’ll have to do. Pour the hot water in. Just do it. Don’t even think about it, just pour it in.”

  Ben held the pot and leaned over the clawed tub. The smell of the chemical soup was sickening, and his eyes stung from it. Every time he breathed, the air seared his nose. He tipped the large pot and the boiling water started to pour in.

  Terry screamed out as the water hit her skin. She wasn’t dead, and the searing water awoke her from unconsciousness. She reached out and grabbed Ben’s head in an attempt to find anything to hold onto. She pulled, and Ben felt his feet lift off the floor.

  His face splashed down into the boiling soup of chemicals in the tub.

  CHAPTER TWENTYONE

  Alma’s Lost Truth

  March 14th, 1996

  Alma was still in the kitchen, watching the water boil, when she heard Terry scream. Then Ben started to wail even louder and Alma refused to stay downstairs any longer. She took a steak knife out of the butcher’s block on the counter and headed for the stairs.

  The green electricity outside crackled again and she thought she heard her name, but wasn’t sure who was speaking. When the light flashed, there was a tall shadow in the room with her, as if an adult were standing at her side. She spun and swiped through the air, but there was no one in the room with her other than the whimpering dog in the cage.

  Alma went to the stairs and paused, terrified. Ben was crying out in pain, and Alma knew her father was killing him. If she didn’t do something, her brother would die. She started to hum a tune, a trick her mother had taught her to help stay calm when bad things were happening. She took each step slowly and listened as Ben continued to cry out in pain.

  She heard her father speak, “Hold the towel over your face, Ben.”

  “It hurts!” Ben cried out.

  “Get back in the tub, bitch!” Her father hit something, and Alma heard water splash. Then she heard several wet thuds while Ben continued to cry, his voice now muffled by what Alma assumed was a towel.

  She held the knife out in front of herself, ready to kill to save Ben. If her father was hurting him, Alma was prepared to stop him any way she had to.

  Alma walked down the hall and then pushed the door open. Ben was on the bed with a towel over his face, and Alma could see her father in the bathroom, hunched over the tub. Ben was shaking as he held the towel.

  “Ben?” asked Alma. “Are you okay?”

  Ben dropped the towel and his lip snagged on the fabric. When the towel fell, a portion of his lower lips went with it. His face was scarlet red, and his eyebrows were missing. Blisters had formed on his cheeks and his eyes were wide and unblinking. His teeth were chattering as if his body couldn’t stand the agony he was suffering. “Alma,” he said and pointed to the door. “Get out!”

  “Alma?” asked her father from the bathroom. He got up from the tub and walked back into the room. “What did I tell you about coming in here?”

  Alma looked at him and held the knife out, still prepared to protect Ben any way she needed to. She saw Terry rise up from the tub behind her father. The woman’s entire body was slathered in a putrid mess of blood and thick, syrupy liquid. Terry screamed in pain and pushed Alma’s father out of the way as she rushed for the door. Alma’s father tried to grab the nude woman, but when he gripped her arm a strip of flesh peeled off her. Alma closed her eyes and held the knife out.

  Terry was blinded by the chemicals in the tub, and ran directly into Alma’s outstretched blade. The force of Terry’s lunge was enough to knock Alma back as the blade pressed into the nude woman’s abdomen. Terry fell down on Alma and the stench of the chemical soup stole the girl’s breath away.

  It looked as if Terry’s flesh was melting off, and when Alma tried to push the woman away her hands just slipped through the muck. Terry sputtered and finally rolled off Alma as she clutched the blade in her stomach. Her feet squeaked on the wood floor as she tried to get away, but Alma’s father was already over her. He pulled the blade free, which caused Terry’s body to lurch up before falling back down again.

  “Die, you stupid bitch!” Alma’s father stabbed the woman over and over just within the threshold of the room. He wouldn’t stop, and soon his fist was plunging into a large cavity in the woman’s stomach.

  When his madness subsided, Alma’s father stood up, his hand
s dripping with blood and chunks of flesh, and panted as he stared down at his daughter. “What did I tell you about staying out of my room?”

  There was a sucking noise from the hall that sounded as if all the air in the cabin was being pulled away, then a boom shook the building as electric light flashed all around them. The fog swept in and enveloped them as shadows ran past. The creatures in the mist danced and spun, holding each others hands as they went. The shadows were hunched over and sometimes howled as if canine. From within the mass of creatures came a tall figure, and Alma thought she saw the shadow of horns on the top of his head. He held his hand out to Ben, and Alma heard him whispering. The shadow then glanced at Alma, but ignored her as he led Ben away.

  “I love you, Alma,” said Ben. “I’ll never stop loving you.”

  Paul was there in the fog, and he saw everything that Alma and Ben had endured. The Skeleton Man had revealed himself, and was whispering to Paul as the creatures danced around them.

  “I met the Devil, and he ended my pain,” said The Skeleton Man. “He gave me a chance to save Alma.”

  “How?” asked Paul. He couldn’t see Ben, but could hear the man’s chattering teeth.

  “You should know that right now Alma is dying.”

  “Why? What happened?”

  “The men that stayed in Widowsfield are murdering you both. Look at your chest.”

  Paul glanced down and saw three bullet holes, each oozing blood, in his chest. He put his finger in one and then glanced up at where he thought Ben’s voice emanated from. “Why?”

  “They went up the stairs,” said Ben. “They opened a door that should’ve stayed shut, and now we’re all paying the price. You had to be silenced, but they don’t know the truth about our little town. Widowsfield will never be quiet. It’s still alive, trapped in a place between Hell and Earth. But we can make it better, Paul. We can save Alma.”