Fossil Lake: An Anthology of the Aberrant (10 page)

DARK OF MADNESS

Tanya Nehmelman

The dark can be damning. You never know what’s hiding within it. The senses are heightened. Every little noise, creak and crack sends shivers, tingling down the spine. Every moving shadow plays a horrific image in the mind. Maybe if the guilt didn’t linger, the darkness wouldn’t be so bad.

The wind howls, and you hear her whisper, “Why? I did everything for you.” Those were her last words. Why did you do it? The question dwells in your mind. You lost it for a second, but a second was all it took. After all, you did it with a smile, didn’t you? Didn’t you? So why is it bothering you now?

Was it the way the tears rolled down her cheeks? The way she begged for your pity? Or the simple fact that she just plain trusted you? No, it’s not any of that, is it? You’ve wanted her dead for a long time now, ever since you were children. Haven’t you?

You dressed like her, acted like her, and wanted to be her. Somewhere in your small mind, you believed you’d grow up to be her, didn’t you? Even as adults, you tried to be her. But when everyone continued to praise her, and not you, that’s when you snapped, wasn’t it? With her out of the picture, you are free to be her. Isn’t that right? So what’s the problem?

Darkness surrounds you. Strange sounds of the night buzz in your ears. Her body is gone. You made sure of that, didn’t you? Of course you did. You tied the sack of bricks firmly around her ankles, and knocked her body off the pier. Then you stood over, watching, glug, glug, glug, as the body sank. She’s with Papa now. This was his secret fishing spot, and every time he brought you girls out here, he warned you to stay away from the brim. He claimed it was so deep, that if you fell in, he’d never be able to find you. So why are you on edge? There is no way she’s slinking out in the darkness now, is there?

Your heart bangs in your chest in that ridiculously fast manner now. What’s that, you hear footfalls in the distance? Nah, it’s just another sound of the night. So you tell yourself. Why are your hands shaking? You damn well know if this would’ve been the other way around, her hands wouldn’t be shaking. This angers you, doesn’t it? Even with her gone, you can’t be her. Maybe it’s because she’s not gone. She’s out there in the dark, watching, waiting.

Was that a scream, echoing out in the distance? There it is again. Wait, that’s not screaming. It’s just a loon. You’re losing it, aren’t you? A small, senseless thing like murder and you can barely keep your pants dry, can you? You’re pathetic.

Your heart is racing again. Are those beads of sweat I detect on your brow? Why, sure they are. And you thought this was going to be easy, didn’t you? Of course you did. You didn’t seem to have a problem with it, when you wrapped your fingers around her scrawny neck, did you? She spotted the burlap sack of bricks at the end of the pier, and turned to question you. That was your chance. You pounced on her, taking her by complete surprise.

You actually liked it at the time. The way her eyes bulged from their sockets, the blue tinting her lips as she tried to gasp for air, and way the vessels broke in her eyes, pooling them red. When her body fell limp in your arms, ecstasy swept over you, didn’t it? You let her body plop to the boards, and kicked her with your foot, making sure she was out.

To think, that was your own sister, your flesh and blood. I’d hate to know what you would do to a stranger who crossed your path. Using, your own hands, not even a weapon, to squeeze the life out of her. You didn’t feel guilty then, so why the change of heart?

Click clack click clack click clack ... The sweat tickles, as it dribbles down your face. You don’t dare move to touch it. Someone’s coming, and it sounds like they’re wearing heels. Wasn’t your sister wearing heels, when you heaved her body into that cold, murky darkness?

Was your chest hitching with that last breath, you took? It is! What, are you gonna cry? Worse, are you gonna piss yourself? Man up already. What can this broad possibly do to you, you big bad sister killer? That’s right, you weren’t even sure if she was dead, when you shoved her defenseless body into the abyss, were you? So it could be her, lurking out in the darkness, seeking revenge. Revenge against a sister she assumed loved her. After all, you were an expert at faking that, weren’t you? How else would you have gained her trust enough to get her here, alone, out in the middle of nowhere?

That’s right, you’re in the middle of nowhere, so who else could be clacking about out here, besides her? You can picture her now, can’t you? Her clothes sopping wet, and clinging to her perfect body, that long blonde hair matted to her face. Her skin sagging, and wrinkled from waterlog, and her bright red eyes glaring, looking for you!

But that’s the kind of stuff that only happens in movies, right? So there’s nothing for you to worry about. Click clack click clack click clack ... except for that, of course. Who could possibly be out here, in the middle of nowhere, with you, right now? Maybe it’s the devil himself, coming to claim your wicked soul.

Nightly insects buzz, and you’re crouched behind a tree. Your breathing has picked up. You place a hand over your mouth to stifle the sound of your breath escaping your slightly parted lips. Your entire body trembles, as loud puffs of air withdrawal through your nostrils.

Click clack click clack click clack ... it’s getting closer. Your heart frantically raps on your chest, it feels like its trying to escape its bony prison. Why oh why did you push her in, without getting the keys from her pocket first? Now you’re trapped, out here, all alone. Click clack click clack click clack ... except for who ever that is, stalking about the night. There’s one word for your situation, isn’t there? Karma.

Ah, yes, karma. The one word you liked to throw around, isn’t it? “Karma,” you’d say with a sinister smile. You didn’t much believe in it yourself, did you? You just liked to throw it in everybody else’s face, like it was a curse. Well, you God damn hypocrite, KARMA!

Your chest is hitching much, much faster now. It reminds you of something, your sister’s did the same, as she couldn’t stop the life from escaping her. You close your eyes, as your lungs fill with pain, unable to suck in enough oxygen, in your panicked state. Is this what she felt like, before she fell limp in your arms?

Click clack squish click clack squish click clack squish, the sound is so loud, it has to be right next to you. Is that a fishy odor in the air? You don’t want to open your eyes, to see her standing over you, her sagging swollen face, in yours?

But you can’t resist can you? Even though your heart feels as if it’s going to jump right out of you chest, you open your eyes. You gasp, choking on your own breath, although you see nothing, but darkness, and the silhouettes of trees. Yet that strong fishy odor hangs, heavy in the air. She has to be out there. Watching, tormenting you, payback for unsuccessfully killing her.

You would think something like that, wouldn’t you?  After all, you’d go after her if she tried, and failed to kill you, right? Crunch click clack squish. What was that? It’s right behind you! One hand on the rough tree bark, to balance yourself, you turn with a loud gulp.

A strong whiff of fishy lake stench slaps you in the face. You see nothing but the darkness, and the sliver of the moon’s reflection on the water. Leaves wrestle to your left. Your head pivots. Click clack squish ... A large, wet, raccoon scurries by. Something shiny is clamped in its mouth. You let out a sigh of relief, and turn back towards the tree.

There’s something on your neck! It’s leathery and damp. The pressure sends your heart into madness. There’s no way she can be alive! That was only a foolish thought you had, right?

Full panic has swept over you. It’s ever so hard to breathe. You can’t move, paralyzed with fear. You just know, your dead sister’s hand is wrapped around your throat. Gagging chokes escape your lips. You try to force in air, but the grip is too tight. Overwhelmed with terror, you don’t even realize the warm, wetness seeping through your pants.

You know, you really are pathetic, when you let the guilty voice in your head scare you to death.

ALL THAT JAZZ

Meagan Hightower

Almost every night I stay up late, and I wonder … What if I’d tried harder? Sooner? Could I have changed what happened? Could I have avoided the sadness and heartbreak? And was it even possible or unavoidable to do so?

I have no means of answering those questions. I can only guess, and sometimes even guessing is wrong.

I remember the day she and I met. Back then I went by the name of Seth, and she called herself Ruby. She was dolled up in the latest trendy threads and hair style, and I can still recall the scent of her favorite perfume from all the time we spent together at that speakeasy in Fossil Lake.

The summer of 1925, and how it changed my life.

To this day I will never forget the way she used to dance with me when the jazz band played, and how we would always laugh over the silliest things over drinks. 

But then Nick had to start getting possessive over her for a reason we could never really understand. It’s things like that that really break my heart.

It was one of the rare times I was off of work, so Ruby had invited me over to talk. She figured that with the band being in town, it would be the perfect time to talk without Nick noticing. Even though he rarely left the bar, he always gave me the evil eye when she spent time with me.

For almost thirty minutes we cut a fine rug. Nick never stopped staring at us the entire time. It seemed like the more we danced, the more he had gotten angry. Though if I was in his place and some mac was dancing with my kitten, I would be just as angry. 

“I’ll order the drinks,” I told her when she picked a table far away from the bar.

Once again I got the evil eye from Nick when I walked up to the bar. As usual, he was in his ugly suit and wearing his disgusting eau de toilette. His face was so fixed up in anger it didn’t seem like the face of the cool fake-loo artist gangster I worked for.

“I’ll have two Bronxes.”

“What are you doing with her?” Nick asked, pouring.

“Just dancing,” I said.

“Stay away from my woman.”

Nick placed the drinks on the bar. When he turned away, I took the drinks over to Ruby. From the look in his eye, I did not want to find out what he meant by those words. I’d rather be on the nut that have a belly full of lead poisoning. It would not surprise me if Nick was packing heat with an intent to harm.

“I wish we could just blow this town,” Ruby said, sipping her Bronx lightly. “I told Nick that I’m not his woman. I am not a thing to own.”

“Why don’t you and me go dust ourselves out of here? And see the world?” I whispered in her ear.

“I’d love to. But how? Nick will blip us both for leaving.”

And that was the thousand dollar question. How to leave Fossil Lake without my boss and her unwanted admirer finding out?

I got into the business since I wanted a way to earn fast cash, and Ruby was at the wrong place at the wrong time. Ruby always did believe that I did carry a torch for her, and that in itself was a very dangerous love; I knew better but still couldn’t be helped.

“I know the roads very well. He’ll never find us,” I said, with a strong surge of confidence. From driving the hooch routes, I knew I could leave without much of a trace. Only problem again was trying to get her out.

“Really?” The tone of her voice was tense and excited, but she tried to not look overly ecstatic.

We talked a little more at the table before finally deciding on the plan. Ruby was a little uneasy about it, but we both agreed that it was for the best if we left town and never came back. Anywhere we would go would surely be better than living in this dump. At least, that’s what I was hoping for.

“Hey, Ruby-baby. Why don’t you lose the boob and be with a real man?”

We looked up; sure enough it was Nick.

“Go away,” Ruby said, frowning.

“You come with me,” Nick said, leaning menacingly over our table.

No one else in the crowd of dancers seemed to be paying attention, which was not surprising. We were all the way in the back. I got up, wishing I’d thought to not sit in the corner so that empty chairs stood between me and him. 

“Nick, leave her alone. She does not belong to you.”

“Yes, she does.”

“I think I’ll be going now,” Ruby said.

She started to leave, but Nick pawed at her with his greedily greasy hands. I tossed my drink at his face. It had no effect. I’ll have to hand it to Ruby, she did fight back. Nick tried to overpower her, but she slapped him. The only problem was that he hit back, harder.

“You will learn to obey me!” he screamed, pulling her by the arm down a short hall.

I tried to follow. He kicked a chair at me. I stumbled over it, and by the time I recovered my balance, he’d dragged her into one of the storage rooms.

I heard things being thrown and broken in there. Something thumped the wall violently. Ruby cried out, audible even over the music, and it filled me with a strong feeling of dread. It was so unreal with her cries mingling in with the dying whispers of jazz ...

When people said that Nick had a short temper, they weren’t joking. Some told me later that Nick only did the right thing, putting his woman in her place, but I don’t think Ruby deserved his wrath.

Bursting into the storeroom, I entered a scene worse that could ever be described. I saw Nick holding a gun, and Ruby cowering in the corner. She had too many cuts, gashes and bruises to even count, and her dress was torn wide open.

I don’t even remember what I yelled; the shot covered my shout. I was already too late. Brains splattered the walls. A spray of blood landed on Nick’s face. He just laughed.

He didn’t notice me standing right there in the doorway. I had never felt so full of hatred and bitterness in my life until that moment.

Would anyone blame me for wanting to fill him with sunshine until he just bled out? Before, I just hadn’t liked him, but I’d tolerated his presence. After what he’d done, I just flat out hated him.

I picked up a bottle, and I stepped up behind him. He still hadn’t noticed me and didn’t know what hit him when I slammed the bottle on his head.

The blow didn’t knock him out, but it did shut up his laughter. He whirled and pointed the gun at me. I knocked it out of his hand.

He punched me, but I punched back. I hit him with a one two combo, and he fell down. I grabbed something sharp from a shelf and stabbed him. Even then, with the claret flowing, he had plenty of sass left in him.

His hand tightened on my wrist, but I was not going to give up. My rage and pain rose to a fever pitch. I had to finish it. I had to do it for her. Ruby’s destruction had to be avenged, and I had to do it for her. I couldn’t help it; I’d been dizzy for that dame ever since we met.

All the love in the world was enough to give me the strength to go on stabbing.

Nick’s grip gradually weakened. He barely moaned as I ripped the sharp point across his throat. Blood rained down like a storm of red confetti.

Out in the main gin-joint, the jazz-band and the dancers hadn’t missed a beat. They kept on jitterbugging as I left by way of the back door.

I skipped town without telling anyone. Changed my name and occupation. Tried to start my life over. I don’t much recall what I did in the following months, but I never bootlegged liquor or worked in a mob ever again.

The thought of Ruby never did leave me.

Sometimes I wonder what would have happened if we’d gotten out earlier.

My mind has continued to eat away at itself, and run itself into insanity. Even now, almost eighty years later, it’s never made any sense.

I still smell her perfume. I still hear her voice.

And I still hear the music … all that jazz …