Chương 42: Arc 3 | Hells Grace (Part 18)

HELLS GRACE Part 18 I found Eliza and Tessa behind a tree while Tessa regained her balance. She assured Eliza that the pain from her phantom wound was fading.

"Can you walk on your own?" Eliza asked.

"Yeah, I think I can. Thanks." Eliza looked behind the tree.

"I don't think they followed us, but there's something you should know. If you see a big man with a scary fox mask, you run. Do you understand?"

"What?"

"Just tell me you understand, niña."

"Okay, okay. If I see a man with a mask, I'll run."

"Good. I'm Eliza, by the way."

"Tessa."

"Your name sounds familiar. Are you from town?" Tessa paused, then nodded.

"I was in the news lately."

"Wait, you're not the girl from Green Hill, are you?" Tessa gulped.

"That one."

"Oh." Eliza smoothed the creases on her shirt, ignoring the implication that there might be a connection between what happened at Green Hill and tonight.

"Look, Tessa. I need to find Danny. He ran off into the woods. Maybe I could stop whatever's happening to him."

"But it's dark out. We barely have a light, and there's shelter over there." Tessa pointed at the boathouse and the single light on the second-floor window.

"Maybe we can find weapons down there, and then we can look for your boy?" Eliza sniffed and gazed at the dark woods, debating what to do next.

"Okay. Find weapons, and then we go look for Danny."

"And a light," Tessa added.

"Yes. Light. We don't know what else lurks in this place."

"You don't feel it?" Eliza narrowed her gaze at her.

"Feel what?"

"I don't know…something familiar about this place," Tessa said.

"It's like I've been here before." Eliza shrugged.

"I just got here a few hours ago. What did you feel?" Tessa shook her head.

"It's probably nothing. I'm tired. They just kidnapped me from the hospital—""It's not nothing. After what I've been through, I know there's something foul in this place. I believe you. What else did you sense, girl?" Tessa hesitated to answer.

"It feels like I'm back at Green Hill again. The dead woman back there tortured me around my home and killed my boyfriend, and…"

"She was possessed," Eliza said.

"Possessed?"

"By the devil." Eliza touched the cross pendant around her neck.

"It looks like it has already left her body. She was the one who attacked us as well."

"They also mentioned Mark Castle. They're looking for him, too. They did something to him."

"Who's he?"

"A boy from my class. He's been missing for weeks."

"Well, when we find him, we'll get him out, too." Tessa grabbed Eliza's wrist.

"But that's the thing. Coach Hodge and the others seem to be afraid of him."

"What are you saying?" Tessa lowered her voice, her eyes flicking around the dark woods.

"Maybe if we see him, we should run away, too." Rebecca peered through the grime-ridden windows of the boathouse, but she couldn't see anything inside. With her gun raised, she kicked the door wide open and entered. Her stomach rolled. Immediately, the scent of mildew and brackish waters hit her nostrils, and she coughed while she waved the gun around, looking for the threat. The warped floorboards creaked under her weight as she entered the room.

Her flashlight illuminated the walls decked with abandoned fishing gear, rusted hooks, coats, tables, and other equipment. Shadows clung to every corner. But there were no signs of her husband.

"Chris?" Rebecca called out into the dark.

"Where are you? Answer me." On the interior dock, two moored rowboats sat empty parallel to each other, floating in the dark water. The boat's hull lightly slapped against the wooden dock with a thud, a heartbeat in the silence. Rebecca found a metal string attached to a bulb and pulled the light switch on, illuminating the room. Rebecca whirled around and crouched, expecting someone to jump out of the shadows, but no one did. She was alone. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath.

Heard something from above her. A stifled sob. A soft creak of the floorboards. Someone was upstairs. Rebecca tightened her gun grip, headed for the door across the entrance, and opened it slowly—a set of stairs leading to the second floor. Without hesitating, she climbed the stairs like a trained cop would, making sure that her corners were clear and that no one was coming up from behind her. Grimacing, she waited to collect her composure, ready to shoot anyone waiting for her upstairs.

The second floor of the boathouse was just like the old version of the cabin. It had two bedrooms, a living room, a kitchen/dining room, and a bathroom. However, I had converted one of the bedrooms into… something more for Rebecca to find. Rebecca peered through the gaps in the wooden railings, searching the living room for anyone hiding behind the couch, the coffee table, or the kitchen. The cries were coming from the door to her left.

When she deemed the room was empty, she finally reached the second-floor landing and headed for the bedroom. She kicked the door open and entered. Rebecca drew a sharp breath. She found herself in an observation room, the exact replica of the precinct in Point Hope (Thanks to Oracle for downloading the blueprints). On the other side of the one-way mirror was the interrogation room, and there sat two figures across a metal table, black cloth bags wrapped around their heads.

They were already awake, looking around and figuring out where they were. However, someone had handcuffed them to the table. One of them had a missing arm. Rebecca stepped forward and pressed her hands against the glass. It was real, alright. She did not imagine all of this. She turned on the mic so that they could hear her.

"Chris? Is that you in there?" The man on the right, the one with the missing arm, turned to face her and let out a muffled scream. It sounded like someone taped his mouth shut.

"Oh! Chris! I'm gonna get you out! Don't you worry!" Rebecca said. Then she looked down at the missing arm.

"Oh my god, Chris! What happened to you?" More muffled sobs from behind the bag. Suddenly, the door slammed shut behind her. As she ran over and turned the doorknob, it came loose from the socket. The door wouldn't budge, no matter how hard she kicked it. She was trapped.

"Kirk! Kirk! I'm in here!" I could tell from her face that she doubted Kirk even followed her into the boathouse. She didn't even check if he was behind her.

"You idiot! I told you to follow me," she said under her breath. She gave the door one last kick.

"Fuck!" In the interrogation room, Goliath stepped out of the shadows, and Rebecca froze as she saw him. To her surprise, the giant gave her a small, friendly wave, although, to Rebecca, it looked menacing.

"Touch him, and I'll fucking kill you!" Rebecca said, holding a choked sob. Goliath tilted his head as if confused, gently reaching out toward Chris and clasping the bag over his head. Rebecca pointed the gun at him.

"Don't you dare…" Goliath pulled the bag off. Chris squinted and frantically looked around, blinking, adjusting to the light. When his eyes met Goliath's, Chris instinctively flinched away from the giant's touch. He looked at the mirror but couldn't see Rebecca behind it. Goliath took the tape off his mouth, and Chris took a lungful of breath.

"Becca? Becca! Where are you?" Chris shouted.

"I'm in here. I'm in here!" Goliath also took off the bag from the other man, and both Chris and Rebecca paused. Clay Havert, Rebecca's lover, sat across from her husband. He had an enormous bruise under his left eye and cheek and dried blood stuck under his nostrils. Compared to Chris, Clay was younger, taller, broader, and more athletic than the other, and a slice of jealousy crossed over Chris's face.

There was pure hatred behind his glare, and he glanced at the mirror, composing himself to act surprised and confused about why Clay was there. Rebecca still didn't know that Chris knew what she had done behind his back for the past weeks? Months? Clay couldn't find the right words as he stared back at the man across from him. Fear crossed his face, and he didn't know whether to be more afraid of the husband of the woman he had been fucking for a long, long time or the literal masked killer standing beside him.

"You…you did this…" Clay managed to say. Chris turned away from him.

"I don't know what you're talking about." This tale has been unlawfully lifted without the author's consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.

"Becks, I don't know what your husband is playing, but he and this big fuck are in on it!"

"What?"

"They're in on it!" Clay repeated. Goliath stepped forward and clasped his giant hand on Clay's shoulder to shut him up. Fortunately, the man slunk back into his chair. Clay arrived at the cabin a few minutes after Chris. Of course, the two men argued about Rebecca and started throwing their fists around. Chris knocked Clay out at some point before Goliath and Maxine could intervene. But since he did half the work for them, Goliath thanked Chris by knocking him out before Eliza, Danny, and Zack reached the cabin.

All I cared about was the drama. If only my new body could eat popcorn right now, I'd waste a few crystals to purchase a large bucket to watch the shit show in front of me.

"What the fuck is this? What the fuck are you doing?" Rebecca shouted at Goliath.

"Who are you? Who are you?! Answer me!" Rebecca grew impatient. She raised the gun again, aimed for Goliath's head, and shot through the glass. Bang! Bang! Bang! The bullets left spider-like webs across the bullet-proof glass. But then something peculiar happened. The cracks stitched themselves closed until they completely disappeared across the surface and spat out the bullets. Rebecca took a step back and stared dumbfounded at the mirror. I laughed. Did she really think it would be that easy?

Goliath tilted his head again, amused by what she had done. He ambled to the glass and playfully tapped it with his finger, teasing her that he was safe behind it. Then, he walked over to a small electrical panel next to the door, pushed a button, and lowered two nooses from the ceiling. Clay and Chris tried to wiggle out of their cuffs as Goliath slowly put the noose around their necks. They begged him to stop. Rebecca peered down at the floor and saw the indentations of a trapdoor under where the two men sat.

Her blood ran cold when she realized what was going to happen next. Goliath fished a digital tape recorder from his pocket and placed it on the metal table. Oracle replicated my voice using AI by downloading several random voicemails and videos from my social media accounts that I had left behind for my family and friends over the years. It was a near-perfect imitation of my voice. I grasped the tape recorder to let my voice flow through, and Oracle would do the rest to translate it.

Goliath pressed play, and my voice echoed across the room.

"Good evening, Deputy Torres. You may remember me," I said. Rebecca gasped.

"M—mmm…Mark Castle?"

"I'd like to play a game, Deputy Torres." I chuckled. Shit, I couldn't help but say the line.

"And you know what kind of game this is. You've seen the movies." Rebecca started chanting under her breath. At first, I thought the wards Hodge taught them would be effective, but I realized I was not a ghost—far from it. I laughed, my cackles echoing through the recorder.

"That won't work, deputy," I said.

"I am no spirit." Chris looked down at the tape recorder.

"Becca? What the hell's going on? Who is this?"

"Mr. Torres, my name is Mark Castle. We've met before through my father. Remember?"

"The missing high schooler?" Clay asked softly.

"Yes."

"Wait, how are you speaking in…"

"Let's not get into the specifics, Mr. Havert. Although both of you should know that Deputy Torres killed me." Chris furrowed his brows.

"Uh, what?"

"Your wife killed me, Mr. Torres," I repeated firmly.

"Along with Coach Hodge, his wife, Mr. Gamble, Maxine, Dave Yates…and many more. Some of the important people in town murdered me in cold blood right there in the woods, performing a demonic ritual. They thought it didn't work, and now I'm here talking to you. I'm telling you all of this so that you can understand your predicament and why this is happening to you. I am truly sorry for what is about to happen next."

"What are you?" Rebecca asked.

"You made me. Did you forget? You and the others made me into something… divine. Ethereal. A living god."

"I didn't make you into this."

"To be fair, you and your cult are imbeciles. But thanks to all of your ineptitude, I can now summon things, will places into existence, and influence everyone with my mind. Did you like what I built for you? Look familiar?"

"Wait, you're the one talking in my head," Chris said.

"When I was in the cabin…when I was…" Possessed? I wanted to finish for him, but I kept my mouth shut. It dawned on him.

"Oh god, what did you do to me."

"I made sure that my friends kept you alive long enough for this special occasion, Mr. Torres."

"The things I did to—" He stopped short. He couldn't bring himself to say it. Rebecca studied the interrogation room, and her eyes grew colder.

"The Green Hill Massacre. That wasn't Maxine's doing. That was… you." I let the silence drift for a long moment and settle.

"I was hungry, and I needed to feed. So, I fed."

"If you're not a ghost, are you a demon? Are you Astaroth?" I laughed.

"What? Your so-called prince? No, deputy. Though I am coming for him after I am done with you."

"His Grace will destroy you, boy. You don't know who you're dealing with and the power you're against."

"Are you sure about that?" I let another bout of silence linger.

"What if you're wrong, deputy? After all, your god is not here to save you. Only me." Rebecca's gaze hovered over Goliath.

"Ah, yes, meet my friend, Goliath. I made him, you know."

"Made him?"

"I breathed life to him," I said.

"He is loyal to me. And he, too, loves games, Deputy Torres. I know what you have been doing behind your husband's back. I know the lies you've said to him and the same lies you've said to your boyfriend. I have been watching you. I have been watching all of you. Kirk Gamble is dead, by the way."

"What?"

"One of my friends just killed him in the lake. Don't mourn him. We both know he's a creepy old fuck. And Alvin Jones and Jenna Batten are dead, too. Well, Jenna's almost dead. And soon, the rest of you."

"You lured us all here to die," Rebecca whispered to herself.

"The messages we've been receiving all day."

"Yes. That was all me."

"That's impossible. You don't know magic. You should be dead. We targeted you for being…"

"What? Weak? Innocent? I had a life, and you took that away from me like I was a sack of meat. Like I meant nothing in your pursuit for power. And here I am now, power incarnate."

"What do you want?" Rebecca spat out with venom.

"To play my games, and you've all played the part well. Why stop now? And this game is very simple. Who does your heart desire the most, Deputy Torres? For months, you've played these men, dangling your favor between the two of them, and relished in the lies you've told."

"I have no idea what you are talking about."

"I've already shared everything with Mr. Torres. Your husband already knows that you have an affair with the other man across the table from him." Rebecca froze, and her Resolve plunged to a bright yellow.

"I… he's… Chris, he's lying…" But she couldn't get the words out clearly. Gotcha, bitch. I signaled for Oracle to play the marriage vow that Rebeca made on her wedding day with Chris Torres, spliced from her Facebook post. Then, I played the voice memos that Clay and Rebecca left for each other. They both said "I love you" and shared graphic details about what they would do to each other. To hit a nerve, I played one of their calls, making fun of Chris, his inadequacies, and how he was lacking in bed.

Chris paled from embarrassment and shot daggers at the other man across the table. The deputy's Resolve slowly dwindled as her voice echoed across the interrogation room. Rebecca closed her eyes and stifled a sob with her hand.

"I'm so sorry, Chris." Chris couldn't look in the mirror. Couldn't look at his wife. I smiled.

"Like I said, the game is simple. Choose. Choose the man you love the most, Deputy Torres. And you can live happily ever after with him. The other one stays here to die." Both men shared a suspicious look.

"No. I'm not gonna do that. I'm not going to choose," Rebecca said.

"I. Won't. Choose. You can't make me."

"Are you sure?"

"You're still gonna kill us." I rolled my eyes. Of course, I'm still going to kill her. She's smarter than I thought, but this game wasn't meant to kill her. This game was all about depleting her Resolve.

"If you don't, then I will choose for you. You have sixty seconds." The digital clock above the door started the countdown. I hovered over her, urging for her aura to go lower and lower. The choice was screwing with her mind. Let it break, I thought. Both of the men's Resolve were threatening to drop to red already.

"I'll try to find a way out! Both of you, just hold on!" Rebecca grabbed the metal folding chair from inside the observation room and used it to smash the glass. But with every crack she made, my magic prevented her from breaking through the mirror. The other men could hear what she was doing behind the mirror, and they could sense that it wasn't working.

"Becks, choose me," Clay said desperately, to Chris's surprise.

"You know you love me, and you know how crazy I feel about you. This piece of shit beat me up when I got here. He was planning to kill you. No, to kill us."

"That's not true!" Chris exclaimed.

"I love you more than anything, Rebecca. I know you. We've known and loved each other for years, Becca, and you can't just throw that away. He is a mistake. I know that. And I'll forgive you, love. I'll forgive you! No one in town has to know about this."

"Don't listen to him, baby!" Clay clamored over Chris's rising voice.

"The moment you get out of here, he's going to leave you. Don't trust him! He's never been a good guy. Remember what you told me? He has never been a good husband to you. He neglects you, and everyone in town can see that!" Rebecca threw the chair away and paced around the room, tears welling in her eyes.

"I'm not gonna choose!" Thirty seconds down on the clock.

"He loves his job more than you!" Clay said.

"You said that yourself!"

"Okay. I admit, I've never been a good husband!" Chris said.

"But I promise you, I'm gonna change, okay? If what I did to you was unforgivable, and if you were unhappy in our marriage, I'll do my best to change. I'll do my best to make you happy. Believe me." Clay chuckled.

"Oh, bullshit. Guys like these never change, Becks. He's never gonna change!" Chris tried to ignore him.

"What will your parents think? What will our friends think?"

"Remember our plan, Becks. We planned that you'll leave him. That you'll get divorced. You've drafted the divorce papers. You're already planning on giving it to him! This is just…" He looked at Chris.

"…a final nail in the coffin."

"Fuck you!" Chris burst out.

"I'm gonna fucking kill you, man! She deserves better!"

"And you're better?"

"Just shut the fuck up! Both of you!" Rebecca yelled.

"Let me fucking think!" Clay grimaced.

"I don't care that you killed Mark Castle, Becks. Choose me, and I'll keep it a secret. Your husband wouldn't have the balls to do that for you. I can." I knew he said that out of desperation, but it cut like a knife. Even Goliath gave me a sympathetic look. He gripped the large hunting knife sheathed on his hip, ready to swing and slit Clay's throat, but I shook my head. Let the game breathe for a moment, I thought. And then go for the kill.

"You piece of shit!" Chris bellowed, trying to kick Clay from under the table.

"I ought to bash your skull in when I had the fucking chance!"

"Time to choose, Deputy Torres. The clock's ticking," I said over the recorder with six seconds on the clock. Five. Four. Three.

"No, no, no! I won't do it!" Rebecca screamed. Two—"Clay! I choose Clay!" Rebecca pounded her fist against the glass. She clutched her chest, holding her sobs from threatening to spill out. Every bone in her clamored to be calm and collected. A sliver of hope that maybe, just maybe, I had mercy still left in me. That Chris Torres would be okay. After all, I was there to punish her. I was Mark Castle. An innocent teenager with a nice family, nice friends, and a good upbringing. Was.

It felt like ages ago now, my memories of those years clouded in a haze. My new existence, this core, is the true me. North Cedar Lake is my body and shelter, my monsters are my bones and viscera, and the cabin is my mind and soul. Fear is my power, and Death is my only friend. Dread seeped through the walls, gripping their forms. At the back of their mind, they knew I had no fucking mercy left in me. Only carnage. I grinned. Let it out, I urged her. Let all your fear out TO ME.

A long silence permeated through the boathouse, waiting. Goliath turned off the tape recorder, put it back in his pocket, and slipped out the interrogation room door. Then, Chris's laughter broke through the silence. Rebecca couldn't hold her sobs any longer.

"I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry, Chris. I love you! I have no choice. He made me!"

"Well, Do you?" Chris took a deep breath, preparing himself for the inevitable.

"Love me? I don't think you do."

"I…" Rebecca held her tongue.

"I'm so sorry." Chris let out another weak chuckle; his Resolve turning darker red.

"I wasted my life with you." He had given up. He glared at Clay across the table.

"And you. Oh, man, you and my wife both deserve each other. She's going to stab you in the back once she's done with you. And I hope you both rot in hell—" The room deleted the cuffs around Chris's wrists into a puff of silvery smoke. Grinding rotors whirred in the distance, muffled behind the wall. No. As both men looked around the room to find where the source was, it came from underneath them. It came from below Chris's trapdoor.

Before Chris could fully absorb what was happening, the trapdoor swung open underneath him, down to a chute filled with woodchipper blades, whirring in terrifying hunger. With a strangled yelp, Chris fell through, and Rebecca let out a hair-raising shriek as the rope tightened around her husband's neck and dangled him down the chute of death. His feet and ankles were gone in a split second, and the metallic serrated blades devoured up to his lower knees.

Blood gushed everywhere in the interrogation room, painting everything in crimson. Everyone was screaming. Rebecca pounded her fists against the glass, quickly frosting with blood. Clay desperately tried to get the cuffs off him.

"Get me out of here!" Clay shrieked. Chris tried to pull himself back up with the rope, but with him choking and the immense pain shooting up his whole body, he quickly lost his strength, and he descended further down the funnel with an ear-splitting deathly screech no man should make. The blades feasted up to Chris's belly, mincing his flesh and organs into ribbons. Every viscera in his lower body exploded across the room, splattering Clay with the man's blood. The rest fell to the dark waters below.

Chris's screams ceased, and the blades' cries faltered in submission to the returning dead silence. [You have gained 1 essence: Chris Torres] [You have gained 150 crystals]