Tar: An apocalyptic horror novella (17 page)

B
etty's funeral
was two months ago. The fair had long since packed up and moved on to the next county. Life went on. But the ache in Jeffrey's heart was a fire that time couldn't douse. It raged. He would spend Saturday afternoons at the campground where Betty took her last breath. Jeffrey would sit next to scene of the crime. The only remnants of tragedy were a few patches of charred weeds. The winter months would erase the evidence. Time tried to forget Betty Kendrick. Jeffrey was determined to not let that happen. He would get down on one knee and see Betty standing above him. The tears in her eyes. The smile on her face. The word "Yes" on the tip of her lips just waiting to put the biggest smile on Jeffrey's face. A smile that would never come.

One cold December afternoon, Jeffrey got on one knee, pretending to take Betty's hand and asked if she would marry him. A rustling in the weeds startled him.

"Yes," the high-pitch voice said, followed by piercing laughter.

"Who's there?" Jeffrey asked.

The knee-high weeds to the left of Jeffrey waved back and forth. He wanted to blame the wind, but the air was calm. More giggling followed.

"Who's there?" Jeffrey asked again.

A small chubby cherub stepped through the weeds carrying a bow and arrow. His curly, white hair looked like tumbleweed. His wings, tiny, fluttered like a hummingbird. Jeffrey rubbed his eyes. Blinked. Knowing the apparition was a figment of his imagination.

"I'm still here," the cherub said. More shrill laughter.

"What are you?" Jeffrey asked.

"You know what I am. You know who I am," the cherub said. "Let's play a game. Tell me who you think I am?"

"I don't feel like playing games," Jeffrey said.

"That's too bad. I had a special gift for you. If you guessed right I'd let you see your sweet Betty again."

"You're not real," Jeffrey said. His tone held resentment.

The cherub laughed and shot at arrow into the charred weeds where Betty had died. A fog appeared. Through the mist Jeffrey could make out a silhouette. Betty spoke to him. One word. "Yes." Jeffrey couldn't see her, but he knew her angelic voice. Betty was there.

"Cupid. You're Cupid. Now let me see Betty," Jeffrey said.

"Oh, I'm sorry," the cherub giggled again. "But that game has expired."

"You son of a bitch," Jeffrey said, kicking in the direction of the cherub who disappeared into a cloud of dust just before Jeffrey's foot connected. He pulled his leg back. It was covered in ash.

"Now, now, now. Violence isn't the answer," the cherub said, materializing behind Jeffrey. "Hasn't there been enough pain?" Laughter. "There's another game we can play."

"If I play will you show me Betty again?"

"I'll do better than that. If you bring me ten lovers, I'll bring your dear Betty back to life."

"Ten lovers?"

"Ten women. I want women. Just women. No men. But there is a catch. True love has to be the bond between the lovers. Not lust. Not like. True love."

"How do I do this?" Jeffrey asked.

"Do you agree? Say yes, and after the debt is paid, you will be with your Betty happily ever after."

"What do I…"

"Say yes first."

"Yes. OK, yes."

The cherub laughed hysterically and shot an arrow straight up to the sky. When it fell, a fog formed. The cherub blew, and the mist disappeared leaving a carnival ride in its wake. A red sign flashed "Tunnel of Love."

"Bring ten couples that are in true love. That's important. If true love is not present the ride will know and it will not work."

"And then what?" Jeffrey asked.

"Then you man the ride. Once I have ten women, I will give Betty back to you."

"What about the men?"

The cherub giggled again.

T
he throbbing woke Sarah
. It felt as though tiny demons were tap dancing on her temples. She opened her eyes, her cheek cold from sleeping against a concrete floor.

"Where am I?" she asked, rubbing her head. "Ben?"

"Ben was his name, huh?" a woman said.

Sarah blinked fast, trying to focus. She could make out the outline of a person standing over her.

"Sorry, I'm Ally. And you are?"

Ally extended her hand, helping Sarah to her feet.

"Sarah."

"Nice to meet you, Sarah. So, Ben was your boyfriend, or your husband?"

"Boyfriend. Where the hell am I?"

Sarah's vision cleared. She was in a cell. Through the bars, she saw Ally, wearing bell-bottoms and an Eagles "Hotel California" 1976 tour shirt, her blonde hair hidden beneath a red bandana. Every direction Sarah looked, there were cells, each one housed sleeping women. At least twenty.

"I'm the early-riser here," Ally said.

"Is this jail?" Sarah asked, tracing the cold bars with her fingers. "I didn't kill, Ben. I swear."

"Oh, honey," Ally said, laughing. "The first few days are the worst. It gets better. I promise."

"But, I didn't kill him. Some sick bastard made him kill himself in front of me," Sarah said.

"You mean Jeffrey."

"Jeffrey?" Sarah grew more frustrated. "What the hell is happening?"

"Jeffrey is the person that killed your boyfriend," Ally said. "He's really not that bad when he's not possessed."

"Possessed?"

"Working the ride. Is it still the Tunnel of Love?"

"Yeah," Sarah said, letting out a deep breath. "What the hell is going on?"

"Shhh...you'll wake the others. Tammy can be a bitch if she doesn't get her beauty sleep. I don't know the whole story, Jeffrey tells me bits and pieces when he's not possessed. What I know is Jeffrey and his girlfriend were at a county fair back in '65 when a freak accident killed his girl. She stepped on a live wire that electrocuted her. He won't talk much about her though. He says it's too painful."

"1965?" Sarah asked.

"Yeah. He always walks around humming 'My Girl.' I really hate that song now, but it was their song. He loved her so much."

"That bastard killed my boyfriend right in front me. He knows nothing about love."

"He killed mine too," Ally said. "But, it really wasn't Jeffrey. He's not himself when he's manning the ride. He told me he asked God to bring her back, but God never answered. So, he turned to the Devil. One day as he sat at the place his girl died, the Devil came to him and promised to bring her back under one condition. He had to find ten couples in love, true love, and bring the women to the Devil. The only way to be sure it was true love was for the man to die for his woman."

"This is insane," Sarah said, looking at the other cells. "There's at least twenty women here. The Devil didn't bring back his girlfriend. He can't, once you're dead, you're dead."

"I know. And Jeffrey knows, but he keeps trying. Hoping one day, the Devil will honor his word. Jeffrey's faith is unbreakable."

"Jesus Christ, this can't be happening," Sarah said. "The Devil is the father of lies. He will never honor his word."

"Love makes you do stupid things," Ally said, laughing. "But, hey it's not that bad here. Jeffrey gives us three meals a day and puts a roof over our heads. I say it's not bad, but that only counts if it's not your number."

"Number?" Sarah asked.

"At some point, Jeffrey will take you away from here."

"Where does he take you?"

"I'm not sure. No one's ever come back," Ally said, pointing to an empty cell about four cells down. "He took Amanda two days ago. But she'd been here longer than me. The best thing about being here is you never age."

"I have to get out of here," Sarah said, pulling on the bars. She stopped and looked at Ally's clothes. "Never age? Wait," she paused. "How long have you been here?"

"What year is it?" Ally asked.

"2011"

Ally counted on her fingers. "I've been here thirty-four years."

Sarah sank to her knees, still clutching the bars.

"Like I said, it's not too bad. You don't have to worry about wrinkles." Ally smiled. "It's just like my shirt," she pointed to the hotel. "You can check out whenever you want, but you'll never leave."

"Someone will come looking for me. My parents know that I was at the fair. They'll come."

Ally sighed and asked, "Was anyone else on the ride?"

"No."

"Was anyone in line when you got on the ride?"

"No."

"Didn't you find that a little odd?"

"Not at the time. It was raining. I just wanted to get out of the rain."

"It's always raining. Not everyone can get on the ride," Ally said.

"They'll find me. I know my family."

Ally's lips turned down, her eyes glistened with tears. "I'm really sorry. I'm sure they'll come looking for you," she said, wiping away the tears. "But they'll never find you. They can't"

"Why is that?" Sarah asked. "It's a goddamn fair ride. Someone has to find it."

"They can't find you because this place doesn't exist."

T
he headline was one word
— simple, yet powerful. In bold, black Helvetica, the word, "Murderer." He had seen it all too frequently. He reached underneath a Bible and pulled out a yellowing newspaper with the headline "Murderer." He compared the papers. The font was similar, but there were a few variances. Under the headline of the current paper was a photo of Michael Gordon. The date of the yellowing paper was September 13, 1965. Underneath the headline was picture of Jeffrey Richards.

* * *

"
W
hat's the prognosis
, doc?"

"Probably four week tops, Warden. With stage four lung cancer, it's a waiting game. But I'd say Richards has used up about all of his time."

"Hear that, Jeffrey," the voice whispered into Jeffrey's ear.

"I'm ready for it to end. You promised me I'd get to see Betty again. I'll see her in the afterlife."

The cherub appeared beside the stainless steel sink in the jail cell.

"Oh poor, misguided Jeffrey. Betty is in a place you'll never be allowed to enter. You're a murderer."

"I didn't kill her."

The cherub giggled. "You murdered Betty in a fit of rage after seeing her kiss that other boy. The other boy was her cousin. They weren't kissing cousins from West Virginia. She hadn't seen him for years. Not since he left to fight in Vietnam. She loved you, Jeffrey."

"You're the Devil. You're a liar. She stepped on the wire and electrocuted herself."

More laughter. The cherub hopped onto the sink and became eye level with Jeffrey.

"You strangled the life out of her in front of all those kids. Even when she begged and pleaded for her life. She told you that she loved you. Jealousy deafened you. Rage led you."

In the mirror, behind the sink, the cherub took its true form. A small creature covered in brown hair, black circles around its eyes, and four-inch horns on its head.

"I know what you really are," Jeffrey said.

"Oh really, do tell."

"You're an alp," Jeffrey said. "A filthy, little demon that gets off on entering people's dreams, creating nightmares, and sucking the life from them. You're a fucking vampire."

"Am I now? Interesting. Tell me more."

"You tricked me into thinking I could see Betty again when you knew that was not possible. You used my love for her as a way to collect those women."

The alp laughed.

"No, Jeffrey, you used your love as rage to murder the girl of your dreams. If you hadn't I could have never come to you. And don't act like those women are innocent."

"They are. They don't deserve what you do to them."

"They deserve worse. They are no different than you. Those women murdered the love of their lives too. Or else they couldn't get on the ride. The last one you took, Sarah. In an alcohol-fueled rage, she stabbed her boyfriend through the heart. All because he wanted her to stop drinking. The nerve of him."

Laughter.

"You said the ride wouldn't work unless there was true love," Jeffrey said.

"Did I now? I'm always getting true love mixed up with murder."

"Why are you here? It's not time for the ride to open," Jeffrey said.

"What do you think happens when you bring me the girls?" the alp asked.

"I don't know. You eat them?"

The alp laughed. The shrill caused Jeffrey to cover his ears.

"Not even close. Murderers leave a bitter aftertaste. So I hear. When I ask you to bring me a girls, death has come calling to take them to Hell. This little thing that we have going is sort of like a time-out. A place for them to reflect on what they've done. Sadly none of them ever admit it. They just play the victim card. Kinda like you."

The alp pointed a hairy finger with a three-inch crooked black nail at Jeffrey.

"Why are you here?"

The alp placed the fingernail on the current newspaper. He traced Michael Gordon's photo, cutting it away from the paper with the sharp nail. He held the photo up.

"This is why."

"But you don't like men," Jeffrey said.

The alp giggled. "So true. Women are so much more fun. But Jeffrey your time has come to an end. The cancer has won."

"He's my replacement?" Jeffrey asked.

"Well, Michael did kill his wife, cut her up, and stuff her in a mattress. I'd say he's more than worthy. But there's time for that later."

"So, why are you?" Jeffrey asked. Rage fueled his words.

"Oh, are you going to strangle me too?"

The alp laughed and his face morphed into Betty's

"No," Jeffrey said reaching out for the alp's neck.

Jeffery's hands started to burn. The heat shot up his forearms to his shoulders. The alp continued to giggle. The pain became unbearable. Jeffrey closed his eyes. Praying it would end. The pain let up a bit. He opened his eyes to a sign — written on cardboard, in red ink were the words, "Welcome to Hell. Come Aboard, We've Been Expecting You."

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