Part Two: Don’t Go In The House
October 26th, 1990, Bethlehem Pennsylvania
“I’m over here!” Helen heard her brother’s loud boisterous voice as soon as she walked in. Passing the wall adorned with colorful business cards, she joined the other faces at Hack’s diner who turned to see George sitting at a booth slurping his soda. Butterflies floated in her empty stomach as she approached his table. She had been trying to make time to see him, but he always put it off. Today, he only agreed to meet her at this early lunch hour because he was already planning to eat here.
It had been a while since she’d seen him, and it looked like he’d put on more weight. His hair appeared wild and unkept, looking like a black curly mop flowing down over his shoulders. Even more disconcerting was his T-shirt, which she noticed as she sat down in this small, crowded diner.
“Really? The Zodiac killer?” Helen asked, not amused.
“Yeah, he was awesome,” George grinned as he said loudly, “massacred five people and never got caught!”
“If you say so.” Helen rolled her eyes while the waitress arrived to give George his tall stack of brown pancakes.
“Ooh gimmie gimmie!” George reached up to grab his massive plate while the waitress took Helen’s order. ‘Trouble Me’ by Burn Victims played over the neon lit jukebox while the two siblings made small talk and the other Hack’s patrons ate.
While it had been some time since Helen talked to George, she found there wasn’t much new going on with him. Helen herself had some news to share. “I met someone recently. We went to see a movie at the Boyd last weekend.” she revealed, pointing down the street towards the nearby theater. “He’s really nice.”
“I hope he’s better than the last guy you dated.” George said while pouring thick maple syrup on his pancakes. “I thought he was a douchebag.”
“Yeah, he was.” she laughed in agreement. “This one is nicer.” Her next sentence was spoken with a little more hesitation. “I met him at Church.”
“Church!” George said, repulsed. “What are you going there for?”
“I started singing in the choir at First Presbtyrian. They’re really nice people.”
“If you say so.” George said dismissively before taking a bite of his food. Helen couldn’t yet bring herself to invite George to service, she knew that would be a hard sell. It was a hard sell for her at first too, but she hadn’t done anything musically in quite a while, and when this opportunity unfolded before her, it just felt natural.
The waitress returned with a plate of French toast and a coffee for Helen, who then asked, “What about you, are you dating anyone?”
“Nah, I mean I talk to a few girls around, but prospects don’t look too good around here. You know what I mean?”
“Oh ok.” She responded quietly. “You know, I see a lot of girls on Sunday.” Helen expected the sneering laugh George replied with, but figured it was worth a try. Quickly changing the subject, she asked, “Do you still see your role-playing group?”
“No not really.” George complained. “We were just about to kill an acid dragon in the Dragonlance setting too, but Glenn got a new job where he works nights. Then Steve just had a kid, so that sucks.”
“Okay.” Helen cringed at her brother saying having a kid “sucks.” She quickly ate a few bites of her food, still feeling the nervousness in her stomach. There was a topic that needed to be broached, but she feared she already knew what her brother’s response would be. “What are you doing this weekend?” was the best way she could think of to ease into the subject.
“Going to Hallow-con straight after this.”
“Oh,” Helen didn’t exactly know what he meant, but she took an educated guess, “one of your horror conventions?”
“Yeah, it’s gonna be so cool!” George grew more animated as he talked. Helen could see some of the other patrons rolling their eyes while her brother’s loud voice boomed through the small diner. “Tom Savini is gonna be there again, along with some of the cast from Friday the 13th and Nightmare on Elm Street. I mean, a lot of them I met already but it’s always awesome to see them.”
“That’s neat.” Helen said, revealing no measure of excitement. She knew she couldn’t let herself delay any longer. “So,” Helen almost couldn’t bring herself to finish her sentence, but finally she said it, “I’m going to see dad tonight.”
Helen wondered if her brother even remembered the significance of today’s date. Whether he had or not, he merely responded with “OK.”
“He’s doing fine by the way.” Helen added, desperately hoping he would take the hint.
“Good to know.” George said, chomping down another bite of his food.
“George,” she knew she was trying in vain, but she still persisted, “you should call him sometime. Maybe call him tonight after your show?”
“VIP party tonight.” George quickly replied. “I’ve been corresponding with this author, and I’m gonna see him there.”
“Okay. Well, George maybe call him when you get back. I’m sure he’d love to hear from you.”
Feigning looking at his watch, her brother replied, “I better hit the road soon.”
Helen’s heart sunk as her brother reached into his coat for his wallet. “It’s okay, I’ll pay for it.” she said with a sigh.
“Cool beans.” Helen knew this was the closest her brother got to saying thank you. This didn’t make it any easier to watch him get up and walk away, knowing what today was, and what this day meant to their father.
October 26th, 1957, Plainfield Wisconsin
The air was silent save the crunching sound of Sally’s feet hitting the rocky path before her as she slowly crept toward the dark ominous building. It appeared to be a decent sized house, two stories which probably held around five bedrooms. Its paint was gray and flaking, and the roof was poorly thatched. Rusted equipment sat in the yard. Sally recognized an old cultivator and manure spreader and would be happy to never see another fanning mill as long as she lived.
Also, near the house stood what looked like a chicken coup, and a woodshed sat close by. Dead clumps of weeds poked up through the light snow as she drew closer to the building. No part of her soul thought “don’t go in the house.” In fact, she now assumed she would have to spend the night on what was sure to be the empty hardwood floor inside, as she could see no lights within the structure. However, there were two parked vehicles, a Chevy pickup, and what looked like a maroon-colored Sedan.
“Hello!” she shouted desperately. “Is anybody there?” but the air was as empty with sound as the skies were scarce of clouds. The wood creaked as she walked up the splintered steps; and she pondered how she may be the first human being to walk on this sagging porch since it was abandoned. Many of the windows were boarded up with wooden beams that looked old and rotted, but thankfully the door was unblocked. A small whisp floated in front of Sally’s face, formed from a breath of relief knowing she would not have to pry plywood boards in order to enter the home.
“Hello!” Sally instinctively called out again while pushing the creaky door open. Expecting to find emptiness, she was startled to see small lights inside, emanating from a few glowing kerosene lamps. However, Sally could not bring herself to say another word, as once she stepped through that door, it was as though she were stepping into another dimension, somewhere beyond space and time. No place in the infinite abyss that we call the cosmos could have destroyed her mind as much as this place, this place not far from her own home, in her own country. Ginsberg howled of his generation being swallowed by madness, but neither Ginsberg nor Burroughs, nor any of the Beatniks in their drug induced stream of conscious ramblings could have envisioned the images of the mad and macabre that Sally witnessed in that moment.
Sally shrieked in an inhuman wail as she blindly flew out the door. Her feet stumbled on the sagging steps, causing her to fall and hit the dark earth below. Banging her knee on the ground she cried out again, this time not in hysteria but in pain. Another shrieking sound followed, but this was more the squeal of an animal, and it came from within the house. Another set of quick footsteps followed, and Sally pushed herself back to her feet. She knew she wasn’t seriously hurt, but for the moment her knee was in pain; and she hobbled away as fast as she could. She dared not turn around to look at that awful place again, only catching a glimpse of it when she fled into the woodshed and shut the door behind her. Resting on her good knee, through the splits in the wood she could just barely see another shape lurking about the darkness. It looked like a woman, at least it had long curly hair like one, but it looked strange and misshapen. Its skin flopped about as its head darted through the air, still making that awful squealing sound while searching for the intruder to its home. The thing was small in stature, and she could make out that it was carrying a rifle. While kneeling down and rubbing her knee, she took some small consolation that she wasn’t seriously hurt.
It was then that she felt something brush against her shoulder. Jumping back to her feet, she covered her mouth as she gasped. There was no sound, save the awful squealing outside. Nothing but blackness was visible behind her. She wouldn’t dare turn on a flashlight had she possessed one, but she did have a lighter. The small flame lit up the enclosed space, and the first thing Sally noticed were a pair of human feet.
Hard Coal Studios 