Experiment in Terror 09 Dust to Dust (17 page)

They had to go. It had been a mistake to bring them here in the first place.

I reached for the doorknob, ready to turn it and escape into the heat and sunshine that seemed like another world, but I cried out in pain instead. It was as hot as grabbing a stove top and immediately seared my skin.

“Perry!” my mom cried out, reaching for my hand. I could barely open it, it was already raw and red, burning away. “We need to get ointment on it.”

“We need to get out of here,” I told her, trying to push past the pain. “It’s fine. Let’s go out the back.” There had been a glass door leading from the kitchen into the small backyard, we had just been so enraptured by the place settings that I didn’t get a good look at it.

We hurried to the kitchen and were surprised to see that the blinds in there had been pulled shut too, shuttering us in darkness. I went straight to the backdoor and reached to open it with my good hand but Ada had already beat me to it, wrapping the end of a placemat around her palm as a precaution.

But the doorknob wouldn’t turn, no matter how hard she tried. “Fuck!” she yelled.

I expected my mother to admonish her for her language but she was looking back at the hallway. While Ada struggled, I turned and saw a little boy enter the kitchen, dressed in pajamas.

“What are you doing in my house?” he asked. He had to have been around seven years old, sandy hair, big dark eyes. He had a sharp look about him and spoke like he was highly educated for his age.

My mother and I exchange a glance.

“Uh,” I said, “you live here?”

Had we just been busted in someone else’s house?

But as much as that seemed like it, that couldn’t be it. The little boy narrowed his eyes at us and padded across the kitchen to the table where he sat down. “I’m not the only one here,” he said. “I expected dinner to be ready.” He clasped his hands in front of his plate and bowed his plate, as if he were saying grace.

My mother cleared her throat. “I think we have come in here by accident. Could you tell us the proper way out of here? The front door and this door don’t seem to be working.” Her voice was shaking but she was holding it together.

The boy kept his eyes closed and mumbled a few incomprehensible words under his breath before saying, “You can get out through my window. Upstairs. But don’t go out my brother’s, you’ll fall to your death.”

My chest tightened as the kid reached for Michael’s mug and brought it toward him.

“I wouldn’t drink that,” I told him. “Something has gone rotten in there.”

He looked at me and his eyes were completely black, like a shark’s. My mom stiffened beside me, seeing it too.

“There’s something rotten in the whole house, so as long as the door stays open.”

“What door?” Ada asked, sounding like she wished she hadn’t opened her mouth.

He brought the mug to his lips and took a sip. Tiny black woodbugs fell from his lips, spilling onto the table where they squirmed. “You don’t want to go through that door,” he said. “I was brought there once.” He wiped his lips with his pajama sleeve, leaving the bodies of insects behind. He looked like he wanted to continue but he shut his mouth.

This had to be a dream. This couldn’t be happening. Nothing was making any sense at all and the longer we stood in that kitchen, talking to a little boy in a house full of dust, the more the outside world seemed to darken beyond the blinds.

This isn’t a house
, I thought to myself.
This is nowhere. This is where we were led
.

The boy smiled at me. “I can hear your thoughts, you know.” He said this with pride and a wicked look came over his empty eyes. “You are opening the door wider, just by being here. That’s what he told me.”

“What who told you?” Ada asked.

“The man in the suit,” he said simply. “The more you stay, the wider the door gets. He says you need to stay here with me.”

“What is your name?” my mother asked in a harsh voice.

He turned the mug so we could read it. “Michael,” he said, pointing at the name on the mug. “My brother is upstairs. We’ve been waiting for him for a long time to come home.”

“Why?” I whispered. I found myself clutching onto my mother’s arm with my good hand.

Little Michael smiled at me. “Do you want me to show you?” He looked past me at Ada and my mother. “You’ll have to come too. Then I’ll show you how to get out.”

I wanted to find Dex and Maximus. I wanted a way for Ada and my mom to leave. We really didn’t have a choice.

“Okay,” I said. “Can you promise no harm will come to any of us, including Dex?”

Despite his eyes, he looked crestfallen. “I would never hurt my brother. I wouldn’t hurt any of you either.” He got out of his chair and started toward the hallway. He said over his shoulder. “But the man in the suit…” He raised his finger to his lips. “Stay quiet so he won’t know you’re here.”

But the man in the suit already knew we were here. That was the man in the living room. And when we crept down the darkened hallway, my eyes were drawn to the painting on the wall. What used to be a watercolor of people sitting around and talking and eating was now a scene of utter destruction, dismembered bodies being engulfed by flames. I could almost hear their screams and feel the heat of the fire.

There was a laugh from the living room and I could just see someone long legs as they sat in a chair, the wall blocking me from the sight of their body. A glass of scotch was on the table beside them. Silent night was humming softly from the speakers while the fireplace was now lit. The perfect scene on a cold winter’s night. Even though I knew I would see a cloven hoof if he reached for his scotch, and then maybe a face of unimaginable horror, I couldn’t do anything but stare.

But little Michael reached for my hand, tugging it, his finger still at his lips. His eyes implored me to follow him and to not go into living room.

He led us up the stairs, his ice cold hand in mind, and down the darkened hallway. All the doors we passed were closed and I couldn’t help but wonder which one Dex was in. Everything was so quiet, so, so quiet, that it was hard to imagine anyone being up here at all. But both Dex and Maximus had to be, unless the both escaped the way Michael was about to show us.

At the end of the hallway there was one door open and I got the impression that the inside of the house was a lot larger and longer than it should have been, as if it was existing in its own dimension.

“In here,” Michael whispered and pointed inside his room. We stepped in. There was a small lamp lit in the corner, casting the room in shadow. There were trophies and ribbons and pictures of cars and trucks on the walls. There was also a window that was slightly ajar, showcasing the brick wall of the neighbor’s house.

I walked right over to it and was shocked to see that it was now dark outside. In the span of an hour it had gone from eleven AM to eleven PM. That couldn’t be right. But regardless of how time was spinning, there was a little ladder hanging outside of the window. Either Michael had an escape route growing up or it was put here just for us.

I turned to say something to my mother and sister but just saw Michael leaving the room, closing it behind him. He never looked back at us.

“Mom,” I whispered, turning to her. “Call dad.”

She nodded and brought out her phone. The three of us huddled by the window while she tried to dial.

Ada was staring at me with a blank look in her eyes. “I’m dreaming, right? Totally dreams. Totes.”

My brows furrowed in sympathy. “I wish we were. All I know is this isn’t a house and you guys need to get out of here right now.”

“Damn,” my mother swore, hanging up the phone. “No service at all. No nothing. The phone doesn’t even work.”

We quickly tried Ada’s and mine but the same thing happened. They were useless electronics.

There was a polite knock at the door and a shadow spilling out from under the frame. It looked far too large to be little Michael’s. Shadowy fingers trailed down my spine.

I turned back to Ada and my mom, making sure they were looking at me. “Listen, you have to go now. I’ll hold the ladder and make sure it’s steady. But I don’t think the kid was joking when he said this was the only way out. We don’t know what’s downstairs but I know we all know it’s not of this world.” I made sure to look at my mother long and hard. “Mom, I know you see it. I know you can’t explain this away, so don’t even try.”

To my surprise her eyes started watering, from sadness or from fear I didn’t know. I had forgotten how terrifying all of this could be if you weren’t used to. Hell, I had never been in a situation like this before. Ghosts I could handle, but this was something so beyond my understanding that I didn’t even know how to combat it or if it was even possible. It was larger, and deadlier, than anything I’d known.

She sniffed and it occurred to me that I hadn’t seen my mother cry in a long time. With a thin, shaking hand she wiped away a tear and said. “I’m sorry, Perry. For everything.”

Oh, and now she was going to make me cry. Of all moments, she was choosing this one.

“Mom, it’s okay,” I said, my eyes imploring her to stay calm and focused. “I just need you to leave and go find dad. Bring help, bring someone, but you have to get out of here and now.”

“I’m so sorry I didn’t believe you,” she said, her voice cracking, more tears spilling down her cheek. In the shadows of the room they looked like they were rivers carving out her skin. “More than that, I am so sorry I didn’t believe my mother.”

I softened, feeling a pain in my gut. Pippa.

“I wish she was here right now,” she whispered. “I would tell her so many things. I keep waiting for her to show up but she hasn’t.”

“I know,” I said gently, rubbing her back with the butt of my palm. “I do too. But I think she’s gone to a better place. It’s what she wanted and what we wanted for her.”

The knock resounded again on the door. I didn’t want to turn around and look. It was far too solid and coming from a higher place on the door for it to be Michael.

At least, not Michael as a kid.

“Guys,” Ada said. “Seriously, let’s go.”

I nodded and ushered them to the window. Ada pushed up the bottom with ease and it rose soundlessly. Even though the roped ladder was attached to two solid hooks, I still held the end while Ada climbed over the edge.

“Take care of mom, okay?” I whispered to her.

She nodded and looked down beneath her. It wasn’t a far drop and unlike the garbage cans under another window, there was nothing beneath us but the brick path between this house and the neighbours. “You’re coming right after, aren’t you?”

I nodded. “Hell yes I am. As soon as I get Dex and Maximus, we’ll be right behind you.”

Ada raised her brow, as if she didn’t believe me. Or maybe it wasn’t that, it was that it seemed impossible at this point. Then she dropped the five feet to the ground, landing on her two feet with ease.

“You’re next,” I whispered urgently to my mom.

“Perry,” she said, paused at the sill, “this doesn’t make sense. You should go next. I’ll find Dex.”

I shook my head. “This isn’t your battle mom. You shouldn’t have even been here in the first place.”

Her eyes grew frenzied. “And yet I came,” she hissed, holding on to my shoulders. “I did come here because I felt I needed to. Why was that? Why did I need to come here, what did I need to find, to see?”

“Maybe you needed to see that you’re just like me,” I said, full of hope and doubt at the same time. “Maybe you needed to see that you’re not alone.” She breathed out heavily and I continued. “Maybe you just missed your mother and wanted to see a part of her life.”

She put her hand on my cheek. “I am sorry,” she said. “I’ll never doubt you again.”

I debated whether this was the time to bring up the whole switching pills thing but decided against it. There was too much going on as it was. I didn’t even know why a demon would bother knocking but it was obviously waiting for me.

A loud, guttural cry interrupted our moment. It seemed to come from within the house, within the walls. The door to the hallway flew open and I saw the silhouette of a beast standing on two legs, the same beast we saw in the hotel. It cried again, a horrible scream that smelled like death and brought slivers into your ears.

“Go!” I screamed at my mother, practically pushing her out of the window. She fumbled for a moment and I thought she was going to fall but the ladder began to swing with her weight. There was a second of uncertainty and then I heard her land on the bricks below and Ada’s hushed cries.

The window shut behind her with a deafening clatter and I felt like my last tie with the real world had been severed.

Now I was facing a beast, a blackened shape of evil with eyes that glinted white. I could feel the frustration coming off of him, knowing it was all for me. Something had happened. I had ruined something.

That was good, at least. I smiled at the beast.

I expected the monster to start charging toward me. I expected to have to fight and to have to die.

But that didn’t happen. The beast remained in the doorway, its head coaxed to the side as if it were listening.

Then it screamed again, this one worse than the first. It ran off down the hall, turning into a pool of liquid smoke that slinked through the air, leaving hate behind.

I stood there, afraid to move, unsure of what to do. Then I turned around and frantically tried the window. It was sealed shut, like it had been glued and the glass had been replaced with black ooze. I couldn’t see my mother and Ada and couldn’t hear them either. They were out there, hopefully going for help, hopefully making it out into the city of New York.

And I was in here. So was Dex. So was Maximus.

So was Little Michael. So was a beast.

And I had a feeling, a million other horrible things.

I took in a deep breath, wishing I knew what was going on, what I was fighting, wishing I had some mode of defense. But I had nothing.

Well, almost nothing.

Once my heart rate slowed down enough for me to catch my breath, I closed my eyes and started to yell for help inside my head, all while trying to prevent my thoughts by being read by anyone else.