Serial Novel: Salem Chapter 7

And the fog rolls in...

Chapter Seven

Selina stepped away from the living room window, a look of concern etched on her face. “Craig, have you heard any more from Thorn?”

“Nothing. Why?”

Motioning him over to the window, Selina pulled the curtain aside. “Look at the fog.”

“It’s San Francisco, Selina. Fog is rather common.”

“Would you just look at it?”

Craig peered out the window, watching as the mist rolled past. Nothing looked out of the ordinary right away, but the more he looked, the more he began to see shapes form in the fog. It looked as though fingers were starting to form as it drifted past, each one pointing at the house before folding in on themselves. He went to pull the curtains closed, but Rebecca stopped him.

“Let me see,” she said.

Stepping aside, Craig made space for her at the window, keeping an eye on the street, as much of it as he could see, looking for any sign of movement.

“What do you think is causing that light?” Rebecca asked.

“What light?”

“The green one. It looks like someone is shooting a laser pointer down the street.”

They all crowded around the window, staring at the rolling fog but seeing no light.

“There’s nothing but fog, baby,” Terry said.

“You are telling me you can’t see that light? Are you blind? It’s pointing directly at the house.”

Terry squinted and looked again but shook his head. “I’m not seeing it.”

Pulling the curtains closed, Craig shepherded the group back to the dining room table. “Let’s all just sit here and wait until our people arrive. It should be any time now.”

As if on cue, Craig’s smartphone began to vibrate, rattling against the wooden table. He snatched it up and took the call, nodding for a second before ending the call without ever saying a word. “They are five minutes out. Be ready to move.”

THUMP!!

Something heavy hit the front door, causing everyone at the table to jump. Selina was the first to move, running to the bottom of the stairs, weapon raised and pointing at the door. “Get her upstairs. NOW.”

Grabbing a handful of Rebecca’s shirt, Craig pulled her off the chair and half-dragged her to the foot of the stairs. Turning back, he saw Terry still sitting at the table. “Are you coming, or should I put you out of your misery now?”

That seemed to do the trick. Terry crouched low and scampered to the stairs, following Craig and Rebecca up to the master bedroom.

“Stay in here and do not come out until I tell you to,” Craig said as he pulled the door closed.

While Terry sat on the bed looking dazed and confused, Rebecca went to the window and looked up and down the street. The fog was so thick now that the houses across the way were little more than shadows, the swirling mist making it look as though they were moving, advancing on Rebecca’s home like Lovecraftian terrors risen from the deep. If Craig and Selina were telling the truth, then monsters might indeed be real.

Rebecca angled her head so that she could see down to the front door. The outside light was on, but she could see nothing out there that might have been responsible for the banging on the door. She moved to the bedroom door and cracked it open, only to see Craig standing at the top of the stairs, gun in hand. He hissed at her and motioned at her to close the door.

Moving to the bed, she sat down beside her boyfriend and placed an arm around his shoulders. “Are you buying any of this?” she asked.

“Why would they lie, babe?”

“You really think I have some magical powers that I’ve been hiding since birth?”

Terry shrugged, refusing to make eye contact as he spoke. “I don’t know about that part, but the monster collection thing freaks me out.” He eventually lifted his head and looked at Rebecca. “What about you? Did you ever doubt that they were anything other than your parents?”

“Hell no. They have always been loving and supportive, not just to me but to each other. It makes no sense. They say that they gave up the last twenty-five years of their lives to babysit me. Why would anyone do that?”

“Thorn. That’s a man with more money than sense if you ask me. If he owns this entire neighborhood, then he probably owns the people, too.”

THUMP.

Rebecca almost tripped as she pushed away from the bed and went back to the window. She pressed her forehead against the glass and shielded her eyes with her hands, trying desperately to see through the fog.

“Is something out there?” Terry asked.

“Nothing that I can see.”

THUMP.

“Babe, that’s coming from inside the house,” Terry said, pushing himself back on the bed and further away from the door.

“Oh, to hell with all this,” Rebecca yelled as she charged across the bedroom and out into the hallway. The first thing she noticed was that Craig was gone. Peering over the railing, she saw Selina still crouched at the front door, gun pointed at the door. “Where’s Craig?”

“Basement. Get back in your room, please.”

THUMP THUMP.

THUMP THUMP.

“Selina, that noise is coming from inside the house.”

“We know. That’s why your father is in the basement. Get back inside and close that door. Help is almost here.”

Catching movement out the corner of her eye, Rebecca turned just in time to see the door to the laundry chute pop open. A pair of tiny hands appeared at the top of the door, followed by a horned head. Rebecca screamed, causing the bedroom floor to shake, as the imp pulled itself free of the chute and ran at her.

It made it a couple of steps, its large flaccid penis flopping from side to side as it ran, before Terry grabbed it by the tail and halted its progress. The imp let out a frustrated scream as it flailed at the air, trying to get at its attacker.

“What should I do with it?” Terry wailed.

“Throw it back down the laundry chute.”

Enraged, the imp twisted its body at an unnatural angle and sank its teeth into Terry’s hand. It was enough to loosen the grip on its tail, and once free, it clambered up Terry’s arm, teeth bared and ready to clamp down on his neck.

“Get off him, you fucking FREEEEEEAAAAAAAK.” As she screamed, Rebecca felt everything around her begin to slow down. The pitch of her voice changed until her high-pitched scream turned into a low, rumbling drone. She watched as the walls began to move outward, as though the house was exhaling slowly. The movement of the imp was down to a crawl as time thought about ceasing to exist.

Rebecca expected to feel as though she were moving in a dream, but she could function normally. As she tried to adjust to the sensation, the house inhaled, and the window shattered, sending shards of glass flying into the room. She watched as the pieces drifted lazily through the air, heading in her direction. Stepping forward, she selected the largest, sharpest piece and brushed the rest to the floor.

The imp was still making its slow ascent up Terry’s arm, its leathery skin glistening with sweat. Rebecca reached out and pulled on one of its horns, exposing the devil’s neck. Focusing on the flesh, she could see the carotid artery rise up, could sense the blood running through it. She flipped the shard of glass in her hand and slashed downward, the sharp end tearing through the exposed artery with ease. Blood leaked out through the wound, the droplets floating out like liquid let loose in zero gravity.

A loud creaking noise filled the room, and for a moment, Rebecca thought that the house was collapsing in on itself. The sound, though, came from the door to the room opening at the slowed-down pace of the world around her. “Enough,” she whispered.

Rebecca fell to her knees as time caught up with her, the blood from the imp’s neck splashing against her face on the way down. The creature fell beside her, clutching at its throat as it struggled to breathe. She looked at it and could see its wretched life play out in her head. She also sensed that it meant no harm, which was confusing to her.

“Rebecca. What happened?” Selina said as she burst through the bedroom door.

Ignoring the question, Rebecca looked the imp in the eye and smiled. “Goodnight, sweet Silas,” she said as she plunged the shard of glass into its chest. “No more pain.”

Footsteps thundered out in the hallway as the rescue team, led by Lionel Drake, ran into the house. Drake forced his way into the room and tried to help Rebecca to her feet.

“Get your fucking hands off me,” she spat.

Drake surveyed the damage in the room and stepped back, hands raised in surrender. “I’m only trying to help, ma’am.”

“You want to know how you can help?”

“Whatever you need.”

“Take me to my father.”

Craig stepped forward and held out his hand. “I’m right here, honey.”

Rebecca stared him down with a look of disgust. “I said, my father. Take me to Spencer Thorn.”

***

Raven tossed and turned in the bunk, sweat falling off her in waves. She clutched at her neck, feeling a jolt of pain pulse out from under her skin. Eyes fluttering, she sat up in the bunk and gagged, the coppery taste of blood caught in the back of her throat. “Silas,” she whispered.

Leaning over the side of the bunk, Raven hacked and coughed and then shrieked as pain, sharp as a thousand razor blades dragged across her flesh all at once, hit her in the chest.

When the agony passed, she opened her eyes and said, “Rebecca.”