Lewis awoke in his bed on a crisp Saturday morning. He’d gotten the best sleep he had in a while. Rain tapped on the windows as he flipped his body to get out of bed. He slipped on his tan moccasins and walked into the kitchen. After a brief stretch, he started making himself a pot of coffee while he opened the fridge and pulled out a carton of eggs, milk, butter, diced onions, and cheese. He turned the stove on and began his omelet.
The phone rang.
“Hello?” Lewis answered giddily.
“Good morning, Lewy!” said Karissa spritely.
“Good morning to you too, baby. How’s Spokane?” he asked while whisking the eggs.
“It’s good. Lisa’s parents are super nice. We spent the day playing board games. I mean, they live on the lake, but it just won’t stop raining.”
“Yeah, same here. I don’t think it’s going to stop anytime soon.”
“What about you? What’ve you been up to?” she asked happily.
“Nothing really. Just hanging out, making omelets.” He poured the whisked eggs into the pan, making a loud sizzling sound.
“Oh, god, I am so jealous right now. I love your omelets,” she said. Lewis could practically hear her mouth watering.
“I’ll make you one when you get home, don’t worry,” Lewis said, chuckling.
“You better! How was work yesterday?”
Lewis stopped chuckling immediately. “Uh, good. It was good.”
“Everything okay?” she asked, as she could easily tell that question had caught him off guard.
“Okay, I’ll be honest with you, I didn’t go.”
“What? Why not?” she asked, shocked.
“After you left, I got a bad stomachache. Been sick all night.”
“Yeah, that’s why you’re cooking an omelet right now, right?” she said, unimpressed with his lie.
“How is it I’m a college professor, but when I talk to you, I turn back into a twelve-year-old?” he said, laughing.
“Lewis, really.” She was not interested in his jokes at the moment. “What is going on? Are you okay?”
“Yes, K. I am fine.” He spoke slowly. “I just didn’t feel like myself. But I’m all good now. I promise.”
“Are you sure? I can come back if—”
“No, no!” he said, cutting her off. “Don’t worry about me, I really feel a whole lot better, and I’ll be back to work on Monday. Just enjoy your weekend, okay? Tell Lisa I said hi.”
“Okay. Let me know if you need anything, alright, baby?” she said, a little worried. “I love you.”
“I love you too,” he said before hanging up the phone. He grabbed the skillet and flipped the omelet.
*
Lewis got out of the shower and wrapped a towel around his waist, then headed to his closet where he picked out some black jeans, black boots, a gray T-shirt, and a brown leather jacket. He styled his hair in its typical wave, using his phone as a mirror for obvious reasons. After he was dressed, Lewis picked up his cell phone and called Detective Bolton.
“Yeah, hello?” Bolton said, a little rushed.
“What’s going on, man, you alright?” Lewis asked concerned.
“Yeah, just these damn cops here. Not one of them gives a shit about this.”
“Well, that’s why I am here,” Lewis said confidently.
“I still don’t like this, Lewis. I’m perfectly capable of handling this on my own,” Bolton said while walking into the men’s room.
“Can’t back out now, man. With my help, we are going to figure this out and understand why Mr. Tall Asshole was targeting my family, and also why he had a giant spiral carved onto his fucking sternum.”
“You know, for a psychology professor, you’re pretty vulgar.”
“You know, for an FBI agent, you sure look like a pretty boy.”
“Okay, I’ll give you that one,” Bolton said while looking at himself in the mirror and chuckling. “Meet me at the corner where Hopkins was killed. I’m going to do a search around that area to see if I can find anything else.”
“Okay, I’m out the door.”
“Wait, Lew—”
But Lewis had hung up.
“Why do I feel like this guy’s going to be the death of me?” Bolton said to himself in the mirror.
*
When Bolton arrived at the corner of Thirteenth and Grand Hill, he saw Lewis’ car already parked on the side of the road. Bolton parked his SUV right behind it, but there was no sign of Lewis.
When Bolton got out of his car, he adjusted his shoulder holster beneath his black trench coat. It was another foggy day in the city and the crisp, cold air flowed through Bolton’s hair. He walked to the sidewalk, where he noticed plenty of flowers and pictures of Patrick Hopkins, along with a few candles that had been drowned in the rain.
The detective decided to walk around the block and see if he could find Lewis. He looked down an alleyway but the fog from the rain was so dense he could only see a faded green neon sign toward the end of the alley. He went back to the corner and looked up at the streetlights. It was about 11:00 a.m., but the lights were still on due to the fog.
Bolton kept following the streetlights until he saw the silhouette of a person getting closer and closer with every step he took. He eventually realized it was Lewis. But he was just standing there, staring at a building off to the right.
“Lewis, you alright?” Bolton asked, but Lewis just kept his eyes on the building.
“If our guy is part of a cult, I think he might be living here, don’t you? An abandoned chapel in the middle of downtown Portland?”
“What the hell?” Bolton turned and looked at the broken building. “I honestly had no idea this was here.”
“Of course you didn’t, Kentucky boy,” Lewis joked. “You just got here.”
“Tennessee, but that’s okay.”
“This place has been around for a long time. Nobody thinks anything of it other than the scary stories kids tell each other on Halloween. Anyway.” He put his hand on the detective’s shoulder. “Let’s do it,” Lewis said while walking up to the chapel.
“Wait, we can’t go into just any building.”
“It’s abandoned, so…”
“Still, there are laws against it.”
Lewis looked at him in disappointment. “Jesus Christ, aren’t you an FBI agent?”
“Fine,” Bolton said, putting his hands in his pockets as he followed Lewis up to the chapel.
While Bolton truly thought there was more to this case, he was still hesitant about allowing a civilian to investigate alongside him. And seeing Lewis act like a completely different guy than he had been the day before didn’t sit right with him, but he was here and he decided to go along with it.
“Move,” Bolton commanded as they got to the door.
“What?” Lewis asked, surprised by the tone of Bolton’s voice.
“I’m going to kick the door down.”
Lewis raised his eyebrows and said, “Be my guest.” He stepped aside.
Bolton pulled out his gun, pointed it at the door, then hit the door hard with his foot. The door slammed onto the floor, making a loud bang. The smell of death and disease proceeded to hit both men’s nostrils like a truck.
“Oh, shit,” Lewis said while putting his arm over his nose. “Bolton, something’s dead in there, man.”
The detective nodded in confirmation and held his gun up higher. He was very focused and almost unfazed by the smell. He began to walk inside. Lewis tried to follow but got another whiff of the foul smell, turned back around, and gagged. It was too dark to see inside, so Bolton pulled out a small flashlight and held it up by his gun. The inside of the church was rotting and full of flies and stains of all different colors. Lewis, after holding down his breakfast, walked inside with his shirt pulled over his nose. Bolton shined his light in one corner of the front room. There was a large orange and black stain.
“What the hell is that?” Lewis said, disgusted.
“Most likely vomit, piss, or shit. Or all of the above,” Bolton said with a straight face.
Lewis turned around to gag again.
“Hey,” Bolton said seriously. “Either go outside and yak or keep it together and shut up.”
“You got it,” Lewis said, swallowing his breakfast for a second time.
Bolton kept his gun high. He began to walk through a doorway, which led to the nave. As he walked in, it got darker and darker. Lewis followed closely behind.
As Bolton shined his light on the pews, he noticed three objects sitting in the front row toward the altar.
“Psst,” Bolton whispered to Lewis. He shined the light directly on them, and it looked as though there were three people sitting with white sheets over their heads.
Bolton leaned closer to Lewis. “They’re definitely bodies,” he whispered.
Bolton walked closer. Slowly, very slowly. One of his footsteps caused a loud creak in the floorboards.
Lewis stopped him in his tracks.
“What is it?” Bolton asked.
“Look at the sheets. They’re white.”
“So?”
“Nothing else in here is,” he whispered.
Bolton understood. The church was unbelievably dirty, but the sheets that lay on the three bodies were extremely white and clean. Somebody had been there recently, and it definitely wasn’t the tall man.
Bolton reached over to his radio. “This is Detective Bolton; I need backup down here at 1351 Grand Hill Road,” he said quietly into the radio.
“Copy that, Bolton.” The voice that replied was loud.
“Shit!” Lewis whispered loudly.
Bolton kept his gun aimed at the three bodies under the sheets and began to walk toward them.
“What the hell are you doing?” Lewis quietly asked.
The detective continued walking. “Go back outside,” he whispered to Lewis without taking his eyes off the three figures.
“What? I’m not going to—”
“Get the HELL back outside,” Bolton hissed.
“No!”
Lewis stayed right where he was.
As Bolton realized how stubborn Lewis actually was, he arrived at the front of the pews. He found himself within reaching distance of the bodies under the sheets. He put his flashlight in his mouth, reached out to grab one of the sheets, and pulled it off quickly. It revealed a skinny, almost mummified person. Their jaw was nowhere to be seen, and their brown, rotting skin was loosely attached to the bones of the body. The eyes were hollowed out holes, and the body’s nose was missing, along with the ears. There was a cardboard sign hanging around the neck. On it was the name, “Clarence.”
“Jesus Christ,” Lewis said, shocked.
Bolton, still looking at the body, moved to the next one, grabbed the sheet, and pulled it off. This time, it was a mannequin. Well, it had the torso, arms, and head of a mannequin. Its legs were missing. The mannequin’s eyes were both painted on with an almond shape and then two small dots. The mouth was smeared in a dark red substance that had dried down to the mannequin’s private area, in which a hole was carved.
And carved right above the hole was the name, “Barbara.”
Lewis and Bolton looked at each other in fear and disgust. After an unspoken agreement that what they were seeing was unbelievable, Bolton moved to the third and final sheet.
He let out a sigh and pulled it off with a quick tug. A large, skinny man in a black robe sat there. He had no eyelids nor lips, and a permanent smile was carved into his face. Both Lewis and Bolton jumped at the sight of this.
It looked just like the tall man on the bridge.
Bolton lightly tapped the person’s head with the tip of his handgun. No movement.
“Wait, what the hell?” Bolton said while squinting and looking more closely. He noticed a small, carved spiral right in between the lifeless eyes.
As he got closer to examine it, the lifeless being shot up as fast as a bullet, shoving Bolton with so much force that he flew back and collided with the altar, breaking it into pieces.
The being stood up and let out a loud, inhuman scream.
“Bolton!” Lewis yelled before turning toward the being. He could barely see, as Bolton’s flashlight had fallen out of his mouth when he hit the altar. Now it offered no help, as it faced the opposite direction. The scream was so loud it rang in Lewis’ head. He felt an itch at the base of his skull. The evil being then jumped onto Lewis and pinned him down. Its giant, lifeless eyeballs stared right into Lewis’. Then it quieted down and moved its face close to Lewis. It began to drool and the professor turned his head in disgust. The being let out a loud, otherworldly groan.
Bolton awoke and noticed what was happening. He picked up his pistol, which lay next to him, and aimed it in the general direction of the groan. Bolton couldn’t see though, because of the dark, so he looked around quickly and saw his flashlight. He jumped to it, grabbed it with one hand, and aimed it at Lewis and the being. Now that he was able to see, he aimed his gun, but before he could shoot, blood rushed into his eyes and blinded him.
“Fuck!” Bolton screamed, attempting to wipe the blood away.
“Bolton! Shoot him!” Lewis yelled, still facing away from the being.
The being roared, and its mouth opened so wide, Lewis could see everything inside it.
Bolton screamed and shot three times, still unsure of his vision.
The sound of a bullet tearing through brains echoed in the room. The being fell on top of Lewis.
Both men sat there in silence, breathing heavily.
*
The rain continued to pour, and a thick layer of fog still had its hands all over downtown. Red and blue lights flashed, and yellow crime tape was strewn about the abandoned chapel, extending all the way out to the middle of the street. Three police officers in bright neon yellow vests were directing traffic. It was a crime scene.
Both Bolton and Lewis were sitting down with coffee cups and blankets that the other officers had given them. The professor was staring off into the distance, lost in thought. The detective noticed, so he got up and walked over to him and asked if he was okay.
Lewis never said anything. He was so lost in the events that had just occurred. After Bolton’s call for backup, an ambulance and two police cars arrived seven minutes later. When the police entered the chapel, all they heard were the short and quick breaths of the two men, who were frozen in shock.
“I’m sorry I got you involved in this, man,” Bolton said, letting out a sigh. “I should’ve never let this happen.”
Lewis turned his head slowly and looked Bolton in the eyes. “If it wasn’t for me, you never would’ve found this place. I did this, Bolton. Not you. Not the police department. Me. A college professor. I just opened the case back up for you. I gave you the best evidence you could have. Easily.” He spoke in a very chilling and lifeless tone.
Bolton, although upset by Lewis’ words, knew he was right. He had no help from the Portland Police Department and no help from the FBI. The only person who gave a damn about him was this cocky-but-smart psychology professor. Lewis took a sip of his coffee as he scoffed.
“You’re right,” Bolton admitted. “I wouldn’t have been able to do any of this without you. You helped me finish this case.”
“Are you serious?” Lewis turned his head quickly, causing beads of rain that had collected on his hair to fly. “This case isn’t nearly closed. This case is just beginning. We don’t know shit about these people—this cult, I should say, as it clearly is, and I intend to figure this out.”
Bolton tried to cut in, but Lewis didn’t let him.
“What is their main reason for being here?” Lewis continued. “Who is the leader of the cult? Where are the rest of them? Both of these people were tall and had grotesque faces. They were both in black robes, right? In a typical cult, the followers all wear the same sort of outfit and have the same markings. The leader has a different look than the rest of them and can usually stand out. Since both of the beings we’ve seen here were wearing the same stuff, I highly doubt they are in charge.”
He took a sip of his coffee before continuing. “Look at Heaven’s Gate. That cult wore matching clothes and eventually killed themselves because they thought it was going to allow them to board a UFO that followed a comet. There’s always an endgame. I want to know why these people were here in this church and why they both have these slashed-up faces.”
“I honestly wish this was a Heaven’s Gate situation. They could’ve just killed themselves, and this nightmare would’ve been over. But I agree. This group, or cult, whatever they are, they obviously have violent intentions,” Bolton said, running his hand through his waterlogged hair.
Lewis leaned closer to Bolton and whispered, “I also think we need to get a good look at this evidence. I just don’t have a very good feeling. A mummified body and a disgusting mannequin? What the hell are those for?”
The two men shook their heads in disbelief at the memory of what they saw.
“At least now Byrd will finally listen and allow more feds to come here and help, right?” Lewis asked.
“Yeah, he has no choice now. I’ll get him to do a search in the nearby buildings to see if there’s anything else like this here. My buddy at the bureau is doing research to see if this symbol belongs to anybody.”
“Okay. I’m going to go to the library tonight and do a little research of my own. Let me know if they find anything worth mentioning.” Lewis got up.
“Oh, Lewis,” Bolton started, “are there any more local myths or legends I should know about?”
Lewis took a minute to think. “Not unless you count the boogeyman,” he said, laughing
“I do, actually,” Bolton said under his breath.
As Lewis was walking away, Bolton knew that he was a part of this investigation now. He felt as though he had to be. It was just a feeling. An itch at the base of his skull.
*
On that cool and crisp Saturday morning, Karissa had just gotten off the phone with Lewis. She looked out the window and sighed as the rain tapped it.
Lisa Garcia walked into the living room and saw Karissa’s sadness, as she wasn’t hiding it very well.
“Hey, are you okay?” she asked, stopping in her tracks.
“Lewis didn’t go to work yesterday,” Karissa said, looking down. “He didn’t give me a reason either.”
“Honey, I promise you he’s not with another girl; that boy couldn’t survive without you.”
“What? No.” Karissa said, raising her eyebrows and turning her head toward Lisa. “I’m afraid that me leaving might’ve been a bad idea. He’s all alone now and…I don’t know. I just hope he’s okay.”
“I’m sure he’s fine. I’ll talk to Jack today and see if he can take Lewis out for a beer or something,” Lisa said with kind eyes. Karissa said thank you, and they hugged each other.
“My parents said they want to go to an antique store later, so that’ll be fun.” Lisa smiled, hoping Karissa would be excited, as she could tell Karissa was having a hard time. Plus, the whole mood was sad, as the rain just wouldn’t stop.
On the bright side, she was so tired of being inside that when Lisa said they were going out to do something, she was excited, which pleased Lisa.
“I just have to write to write to Jerry today. He told me I can write a little story on Spokane’s culture and how it compares to Portland’s,” Karissa said, somewhat annoyed.
“He’s still giving you small stories?”
“Well, no. Actually, my last one was pretty big, and it was very well-received. He’s just giving me time to get my shit together again before I get another story like that. Or at least, that’s what I’m hoping. He’s not the most open guy in the world,” she said while sipping some tea she had in a mug next to her.
“All right. Well, let’s go see some Spokane culture.” Lisa picked up Karissa by the hand, laughing. They both walked into the kitchen and were greeted by Lisa’s parents, Greta and Dan Armitage. They were a wealthy old couple who owned their own bank chain in the Northwest.
“Good morning, girls!” Greta said with a huge smile on her face. “I’m making some eggs for the big ol’ lump over there, if you want some.” She gestured to Dan over by the table, who was watching College GameDay.
“I heard that,” he said jokingly.
They all laughed.
Soon after, the eggs and bacon strips were ready to eat, and they all sat around the dining table. Dan’s eyes were glued to the screen. Oregon was playing Washington. Karissa wasn’t really too much of a football fan, but that didn’t stop Dan from his playful trash talk because she was from Oregon.
Greta told her husband to hush every time he did.
“So, Karissa, Lisa tells me you’re a reporter?” Greta said while shoveling a small clump of scrambled eggs into her mouth.
“Yes, I am,” Karissa said, smiling and taking a sip of her tea.
“How did you get into that line of work?”
“Well, my dad was a sports analyst for one of the local news networks back in Portland, and one day he took me to the studio, and I absolutely loved it.”
“Well, I think that is just the greatest. And your husband, how did you two meet?” Greta asked while biting into a piece of bacon.
“A party, actually, when we were in college. He just came up and introduced himself. We were both kind of outsiders, I guess you could say.”
“What do you mean?” Greta asked, tilting her head in confusion.
“Well, he and I both aren’t really the partying type, so we just kind of gravitated toward each other, and the sparks flew.”
“Oh, isn’t that just adorable,” Greta said, grasping her mug of coffee.
“YEAH!” Dan yelled extremely loud. “Huskies eat Ducks out here, Karissa!”
That definitely caught the ladies off guard, as all three of them flinched but then laughed afterward. Greta playfully punched Dan in the arm.
“So, what do you girls say we get out a little bit today?”
“I’d love that,” Karissa said smiling.
*
Karissa was sitting in the back seat of Greta’s silver SUV. Lisa was sitting up front, and Dan was back home watching Washington blow their twenty-point lead against Oregon. Karissa was looking out the window at the surrounding area. She overheard some of Lisa and Greta’s conversation about gardening, but she kind of tuned them out. An occasional question was asked and answered, but then it was back to silence from Karissa. They were on the road for about twenty minutes until Greta pulled into a small parking lot in front of a little white house.
“Okay, we’re here, girls!” Greta said, not holding in her excitement.
Lisa turned around and said, “Sorry, Karissa, she’s just really into antiques.”
Greta responded by giving Lisa’s shoulder a soft punch.
“I get it,” Karissa said, laughing nervously.
Lisa could tell she was still worried about Lewis. When they got out of the car, Greta complained about the “nasty weather,” but Karissa didn’t mind. She actually liked the climate in the Pacific Northwest.
She and Lewis both grew up in Oregon, so they were used to this weather. One summer when she was fourteen, her parents took her to Arizona because her parents didn’t like the rain. After the vacation, Karissa decided that she hated the sun. She found it easier to get warm when she was cold than to cool off when she was hot. Plus, she just found the overall vibe of the rainy and foggy days to be a good one. It was always soothing. It was funny—most people thought of gloomy days as the depressing ones, but not Karissa. She found that she was calmer and happier on those days and more stressed and depressed on sunny days.
While Greta was cursing about the wet and rainy weather, Karissa was feeling quite relaxed, and when they walked inside, she was amazed by how cool the look of the house was. There were cute little knickknacks all over the place and some old-timey furniture spread around. There was one glass container that held a giant collection of old jewelry that Karissa found really interesting.
As they were looking around, they were greeted by a nice old man. The hair that remained on his head was gray, and he had a really big beard that resembled steel wool. He was petting a small orange cat that was licking itself on top of the desk that held the cash register.
“Oh, good afternoon, ladies! What can I do you for?” His smile was big and wide, as if he hadn’t been expecting anyone to come in.
Karissa greeted him with a smile. “Good, thank—”
Greta cut her off. “Yes, do you have any rustic lamps? Like something a rancher or a farm boy would have?”
“Hmmm, I think I might. Follow me.”
Greta began to follow him through a doorway that led to more antiques. Lisa and Karissa stayed behind and looked around.
“She really likes antique hunting, doesn’t she?” Karissa said, laughing.
“Yeah, sorry about that. She didn’t mean to cut you off.”
“No, it’s really okay. This place is pretty cool.”
“How are you doing, K? Like really. Honestly.”
“I’m good.” She knew Lisa could see through her disguise. “I just hope he’s okay. And you know Lewis. He has a tendency to get really upset about little things.”
“Yeah,” Lisa agreed, picking up a small ceramic ashtray. “I remember when he punched Parker in the mouth because he was hitting on you at Jack’s fortieth birthday party. Lewis had just started working at the university.”
“Don’t remind me,” Karissa said, rolling her eyes. “Parker wasn’t even hitting on me. I had a little bit of cocktail sauce on my face, and he wiped it off for me.”
“Honey,” Lisa said, looking at her with a smirk. “That man was definitely flirting with you. Normal people would hand you a napkin.”
They both laughed.
“Besides,” Lisa continued, “I think that’s why Jack liked him so much. All men nowadays just treat girls like change in their pocket. If they lose a penny, they still have more. But not Lewis. Jack and I could tell he truly loves you.”
“Yeah.” Karissa smiled to herself. She blushed a bit, thinking of the memory. Then the voices of the old man and Greta began to penetrate the women’s ears. As they entered the room, Greta was holding a large rustic lamp and was super excited about it. Lisa walked over to the desk to examine the lamp her mom was losing her mind over.
Karissa looked down and thought about Lewis and how happy he made her. She wanted to go home. She wanted to see him. She wanted to hug and kiss him. She closed her eyes and smiled for a moment before she heard Greta calling her, saying they were leaving.
The girls were driving home when Greta decided she was hungry, and she took a vote to see if the rest of the car shared her feeling. Lisa did, and before Karissa could say anything, Greta turned on the highway toward downtown instead of the road back to the house. Karissa felt annoyed.
Greta was sweet, but she kept cutting Karissa off before she could even speak, and that irked her. She ignored it and pulled out her phone to text Lewis.
Hi Lewy, just wanted to say how much I miss you, and I hope your day is going amazing. I love you.
When they got to the diner, they were seated at a large red booth. The waitress approached and took everybody’s orders. Karissa sat there with her head resting on her hand and only ordered a coffee. Greta began to complain about some lady from her country club. Karissa wasn’t paying any attention, but she heard enough to know it was something about golf.
As she got her coffee, she was still lost in thought—well, more like a depression. Her eyes scanned around the restaurant until they met a person sitting in the corner. They were awfully tall and were wearing black robes and a hood.
Karissa raised her head; an expression of fear filled her face. Lisa noticed instantly and asked, “Is everything okay, K?”
Karissa, not wasting any time, stood up and stomped over to the table. When she arrived, the person was looking down.
“Hey you, asshole!” she yelled, catching the whole diner’s attention. The person raised their head toward Karissa and revealed a normal man in a black sweatshirt and sweatpants. He looked at her unimpressed.
“Think you got the wrong guy, lady,” he said in a gruff tone.
She realized it. “S-sorry,” she stuttered.
She felt short of breath. She started walking fast, right past her booth, where Greta and Lisa were asking if she was okay. Lisa got up to follow her. The entire diner was silent and watched her storm out of the building. When she got outside, she began to panic. She fell to her knees on the sidewalk and had her anxiety attack right there in front of the diner.
It was a painful one. She couldn’t breathe and felt the hands of darkness come up to grab her and pull her further into the abyss that was her mind. She felt lonely, cold, terrified. She thought of that face. The face that she saw in her nightmares. The face that had a hold on her entire self.
Lisa ran out, grabbed Karissa in her arms, and told her everything was going to be okay. She looked around and across the road while she was calming her friend down.
And in between two small buildings, she noticed somebody in a black robe standing in an alleyway. They were extremely tall. Lisa raised an eyebrow, but before she could put any more of her attention on it, the tall being faded behind a wall of fog that had made its way in front of the buildings.
*
When they returned home, Greta explained to Dan what happened as Lisa helped Karissa calm herself. The Armitages were aware of the incident back in Portland, as Lisa had told them before they arrived. They knew that this was a possibility.
Karissa was in the shower while Lisa was making her some tea. Greta and Dan were sitting on the couch watching football, though the volume was very low, and Dan was much quieter.
When Karissa entered the living room, they all looked at her with great sincerity. She stopped in her tracks and thanked them with a small smile.
“I’m sorry, Greta.”
“Oh, hush now. I understand. Now, come drink some tea, and let’s watch some football.”
Karissa smiled, although she hated when people said they “understood.” How could they? How could anyone understand the loneliness and terror she felt. Afraid of the world, afraid of herself.
She was still greatly appreciative of Greta’s hospitality though, and she grabbed her tea from Lisa while she sat down on the couch. She felt a little bit more like herself, but she felt beat. Tired. And she kept thinking about why Lewis hadn’t responded to her text yet.
*
It was about 7:00 p.m. when Karissa checked her phone. Still nothing from Lewis. She had texted him three times and called him four. Every time he didn’t answer, she whispered to herself, “Keep going north.”
Dan was asleep on the couch while Greta and Lisa were baking a cake in the kitchen. Lisa had changed their flight back to Portland to the next morning, Sunday instead of Monday. Karissa felt as though she needed to go home. She needed to get back to work. She needed to see Lewis.
She said brief goodnights to her hosts and then went to bed.
Or tried to, at least.
It took her about two hours to fall asleep, but she eventually faded into the world of dreams.
She dreamed about the day she and Lewis went to go pick out Apollo from the breeder. They wanted a child, but Karissa was unable to have one due to medical reasons. She remembered all of the visits to the doctors and all the times she cried in Lewis’ arms. But she also remembered the happiness she felt when Lewis came up to her one day and said, “This doesn’t mean we can’t be parents,” and took her on a Saturday morning to a breeder down in Salem.
When they arrived, all of the puppies were running around—except one that wouldn’t leave the Nelsons alone. Karissa lifted him up and knew he was the one.
That dream and memory was followed by more of the two of them loving the dog who became their child.
She woke up the next day to the smell of crackling bacon. She reached for her phone and saw she had no messages or missed calls from Lewis. Worried, she got out of bed, said her goodbyes to Greta and Dan, and thanked them for their kindness. She couldn’t wait to get home. Lisa and Karissa entered a taxicab and headed toward the airport.
*
That night, Greta and Dan were sitting in their living room, watching more football. Dan let out a sigh and said, “Poor girl.”
“I know,” Greta said, looking up from her book. “Poor thing barely even ate anything while she was here.”
“Did she really lose her mind while you guys were at lunch?”
“Oh, you should’ve seen it, Dan. She yelled at this man, stormed out of there, and fell on the sidewalk. She couldn’t breathe.”
“Wow. Good thing I wasn’t there. I would’ve been embarrassed.”
“Well, we didn’t go through what she did. It sounds terrifying.”
“Yeah, well, now we’re going to get weird looks around town.”
“You stop that,” Greta commanded. “You were just sitting here on your butt watching that damned tv.”
Dan cursed under his breath and got up with a loud sigh. He stated he was going to the bathroom and walked off into the hallway that led to it.
About ten minutes passed before Greta looked up and yelled “Are you okay in there?” while laughing.
Her laugh was cut short when she heard a loud knock on the bathroom door, making her jump out of her chair.
“Jesus! Okay, okay, I’m coming,” she said, putting her book down. She hurried to the door as quickly as the old woman could. As she got closer though, she realized she couldn’t see the light on from the crack under the door. She thought that was strange, but she sighed as she prepared herself to help her husband with whatever it was he needed.
“Honey?” she asked as she grabbed the door handle and turned it. When she saw inside, she froze.
A tall shadow stood there in the darkness. The man, who was about seven feet tall, lowered his head into the light of the hallway, revealing his terrifying and mutilated face. He shot his hand forward, piercing Greta’s stomach. He examined her facial expression as he pulled his hand out slowly.
She stumbled back while blood leaked onto the hardwood floor. Using the wall as a crutch, she yelled for Dan until she slipped and fell in the hallway heading to their bedroom. The tall man ducked his head under the bathroom door frame. Greta was crawling her way to the bedroom door while the tall man followed her slowly, examining, taking his time.
The bedroom door was cracked open. Once she got there, she used the last of her energy and pushed it the rest of the way while begging for Dan. However, the bedroom was covered in red spirals and Dan was lying on the bed with his jaw missing. Greta began to scream but stopped suddenly when a large foot stomped on her head, turning it to mush.