Twisted Little Things and Other Stories (4 page)

“Please tell me they're cursed,” I replied, grabbing Lucy's favorite toy from her bed. “That would be the next logical step here.”

“He said they spoke to him!”

“The wooden soldiers?”

“He said only people who were really tuned in could hear their voices! He said the Devil spoke to him through the two soldiers and told him to kill all those people.”

I opened my mouth to reply, before realizing he was serious. “The toys
talked
to him?”

“Apparently the Devil spoke through them both at once,” he continued, “and, like, told him in excruciating detail what he should do to each of his victims. All through his diaries, he blamed every goddamn thing on the soldiers. He said the Devil spoke to him with two voices, one from each of the toys, and convinced him to do all those freaky things to the women he captured. Apparently the voices would be, like, goading him, and testing him, and telling him that if he didn't follow their orders, the whole goddamn world would end.”

“Sounds like a good way to plead insanity,” I muttered. “Jimmy, seriously -”

“He even recorded them once!”

“The Devil voices?” I asked with a sigh.

“Listen!” I could hear him fumbling with his phone and tapping at his computer's keyboard. “He rigged up this weird-ass microphone to pick up, like, different frequencies, and he managed to record them.”

“This should be good,” I replied, rolling my eyes. “Listen, Jimmy, the guy was clearly -”

Before I could finish, I realized I could hear a static-filled swirling sound on the other end of the line. Jimmy was clearly playing the audio file, and it sure
sounded
like voices, but they were too distorted to really make anything out.

“Hang on,” he said after a moment. “After a few seconds he managed to tune in properly. They really... Here!”

Before I had a chance to tell him the whole thing was insane, I heard a sudden rasping, barking voice on the other end of the line.

“The next one has to be alive when you cut her throat!” the voice snarled. “Clean through, so her blood sprays. Why the fuck did you let this one die so fast, you dumb cocksucker?”

“Make her scream!” another voice added, sounding deeper and even more distorted than the first. “If you don't make her scream, we won't be able to hold back anymore! The world will die in flames! You're the only one who can save everything, but first you have to rip the next bitch apart with your bare fucking hands!”

“What are you doing with that thing?” the first voice asked angrily. “Are you trying to record me? Is this -”

The recording cut off, and I heard Jimmy fumbling with his phone again.

“That's all the dude got,” he continued breathlessly, “but seriously, I think you need to get those statues out of your house right now!”

I wanted to tell him he was wrong, to tell him I didn't believe for one moment that the statues had spoken to that Baxter guy, but at the same time I couldn't help thinking back to the way Lucy had been talking to the two wooden soldiers and even acting as if she could hear them speaking to her. The whole thing was clearly crazy, of course, and driven by a combination of coincidence and superstition, but I was starting to think it'd be best to get rid of the damn things before they could cause any more trouble.

“Thanks for the heads-up,” I told Jimmy, “but honestly, I think I've got the situation under control. The statues are going back this afternoon.”

“That's a wise decision, my friend. There's no point meddling in stuff you don't understand.”

“Whatever,” I said with a sigh, “I think I just -”

Suddenly I heard a loud, piercing scream from the driveway. I froze for a moment, before the scream resumed with a more gargled, stuttering tone.

“Katie?” I whispered, as the scream continued. Dropping the phone, I ran out of Lucy's room and hurried toward the back door. “Katie!” I shouted, as I heard my wife crying out. “Wait!”

Six

As I reached the back door, Lucas came running in, as if something outside had freaked him out.

Heading into the sun-drenched yard, I stopped for a moment as I saw Lucy straddling Katie, pounding at her head with the two figures. There was already a large pool of blood on the concrete, and although Katie was reaching up to push Lucy away, her hands were trembling and she seemed too weak to save herself. For a fraction of a second, all I could do was watch as my daughter raised the wooden figures up high and then brought them crashing down again, plunging one of them into my wife's eye-socket and hitting her so hard with the other that her skull could be heard cracking.

“Lucy, stop!” I shouted, racing down the steps. “Lucy!”

As soon as I reached them, I saw that Lucy had used the two wooden soldiers to pound one side of Katie's face to a bloody, pulpy mess. I grabbed my daughter and pulled her away as she cried out, and then I held her kicking, screaming body as I turned back and saw what was left of Katie's head.

“No,” I whispered, “please...”

The left side of my Katie's face had been completely smashed away, leaving plates of broken bone slopping down into rivers of blood. Part of her upper lip was mulched and torn, exposing her bloodied teeth, while her right eye had been completely gouged out, leaving nothing but a mess of reds: the pink, torn flesh; the bloodied meat ripped up from deeper in her skull; and the wet, crimson pool of blood with pieces of crushed white. Part of the pupil had been split down the middle and smeared down her cheek, but no matter how horrific the sight, I couldn't look away. I could only stare, waiting for some sign that the whole thing was some sick joke.

“It's not my fault,” Lucy said calmly. “Mommy didn't understand. I can't let the world burn. I have to do whatever they tell me.”

Turning to her, I saw that she was looking down at her mother's body with an expression of calm disinterest.

Suddenly Katie twitched, reaching up with her hand and touching the side of her face, as if she couldn't quite work out what had happened. At the same time, she let out a faint gurgling sound as more blood dribbled from what was left of her mouth.

“It's okay,” I told her, reaching down and taking her hand in mine. “I'm going to get help.”

I waited, but her remaining eye had fallen still.

“Katie!” I shouted, leaning closer. “You're going to be okay, I swear!”

“She didn't understand,” Lucy told me again. “She tried to interfere.”

“What did you do?” I shouted, grabbing Lucy by the shoulders and seeing that blood had sprayed all over her dress and face. Her hands were stained too, while there were fragments of flesh and bone stuck to the two wooden soldiers, which she was still clutching tight. Her eyes were wide open and unblinking, as if she hadn't really noticed the horror she'd caused.

“You don't understand either, do you?” she asked. “That's okay, Daddy. It's because you haven't heard them talk to you yet. But you will. You just have to learn how to listen.”

“What did you do?” I yelled again, overcome by panic before grabbing the soldiers and tearing them from her hands.

“No!” she screamed, trying to grab the soldiers back and then punching me on the side of the face.

“Lucy -”

“Give them back!”

This time she hit me even harder, as if she was finding extra fury and anger from deep down.

Pushing her away, I stumbled to the far side of the yard and tossed the two bloodied soldiers onto the barbecue. With trembling hands I grabbed a can of lighter fluid and doused the figures, and then I lit a match. There was still a part of me that insisted the soldiers weren't to blame, but I was filled with a sudden, desperate need to get rid of them at all cost.

“Daddy, no!” Lucy screamed, running toward me.

Before she could get any closer, I dropped the match and watched as the two soldiers burst into flames.

“Daddy, stop!”

Lunging past me, Lucy thrust her hands into the flames. I quickly tried to pull them out, but the heat was too strong and I had to grab her by the waist and drag her back. The flames were rising high now, and I dragged Lucy further away until suddenly I realized she'd stopped fighting. Instead, she'd begun to sob. It was as if she'd finally accepted that the soldiers were gone.

“Mommy!” she screamed, slipping out of my grip and running back toward Katie. “Mommy, come back!”

Turning, I saw that Katie had fallen still now. A cold shiver ran through my chest as I ran and pulled Lucy away, and my daughter quickly buried her face against my chest.

As people began coming out of nearby houses, all I could do was stare in shock at my wife's bloodied body. I knew there was no way she could still be alive, that half her brain must have been crushed by the fury that Lucy's had unleashed, so all I could do was hold my daughter tight as I slowly turned and stared with wide-eyed shock at the flames that continued to roar from the barbecue.

Whatever had caused Lucy to explode with rage, it seemed to have passed now. I slowly dropped to my knees, holding her as she cried. The flames were finally dying down in the barbecue, and I could see that there was nothing left of the figures.

“Why couldn't you have let me keep them?” Lucy sobbed, as I turned and saw several shocked neighbors approaching Katie's body. “I wanted them so much! Daddy, why couldn't I have had them? I wouldn't have hurt Mommy if she hadn't tried to take them away from me! They were talking to me! Why couldn't she hear them?”

Table 9

Prologue

Twenty years ago

“And will you be waiting for someone this evening, Miss Carradine?” the waitress asked, as she took a leather-bound menu from the counter. “I know you usually come with your boyfriend. Is Harry...”

Her voice trailed off as she began to feel a little uncomfortable. She couldn't put her finger on it, but something seemed a little different this time.

“It's just me,” Vivian replied calmly, before forcing a well-prepared smile. “What I mean is, I shall be dining alone tonight. Harry...”

She paused, her left eye twitching slightly.

“Harry can't make it on this occasion. He's otherwise...” The words caught in her throat. “I'm afraid he's otherwise occupied.”

“Well, we have your usual table waiting for you,” the waitress told her, as she led Vivian across the restaurant, toward the windows at the far corner. “The same reservation every week. You look different tonight. Is that a new look?”

Glancing down at her black dress, Vivian's face flickered slightly, as if she was struggling to contain herself. She'd worn all black for the first time in her life – black heels, black stockings, a black dress that ran to just below the knee, and even a black hat with a black veil – and she knew that she probably seemed a little striking. At the same time, she felt absolutely certain that black was the only appropriate color for the evening, even if she felt the other diners were watching her. Still, she had chosen the clothes very deliberately.

“Yes,” she managed to say finally, as she reached the table and the waitress pulled the chair out for her. “I suppose it
is
a new look.”

“It suits you.”

“You're so kind.”

As she took her seat, Vivian carefully avoided looking at the empty chair opposite. Instead, she took a look at the cutlery and straightened the knife, which had been left a little askew. Then she glanced across the restaurant and saw a dozen or so other diners, at least half of whom she vaguely recognized from town. She caught the eye of a few, but they quickly looked back down at their plates as if they too sensed something different about her tonight.

“I don't know if you need to see the menu,” the waitress said after a moment, “or whether you already -”

“I'll have my usual,” Vivian replied, turning to her. She paused, before remembering once again to smile. “The same as always, if you don't mind.”

“Absolutely, and...” The waitress paused, clearly feeling a little uneasy. “Seeing as you're alone tonight, will you still be wanting bread to start?”

Vivian swallowed hard. “No. No, that won't be necessary.”

“Giving you the night off, is he?” The waitress smiled. “Your fiance, I mean. Letting you out alone like this.”

“Harry has another...” Vivian paused, feeling a cold sweat starting to prick her brow, before taking a deep breath and regaining her composure. Her eye was still twitching, but she felt there was nothing to be done about that. “Something of the sort,” she continued, swallowing hard. “Please, there's no need to fuss. I shall simply have my usual.”

“And wine?”

She shook her head. “No, I shan't be needing wine tonight.”

“I'll bring you some water, then,” the waitress replied, before taking a step back, as if she was relieved to be done. “I'll be right back, Miss Carradine.”

“I'm sure you will,” Vivian replied, watching as the waitress headed back across the room. “I assure you,” she added under her breath, “I am a very patient woman.”

After a moment, she reached into her pocket and slipped out a small bottle. Her hands were trembling as she carefully set the bottle on the table. She'd planned the evening down to every last detail, and she knew that she had to save the bottle's contents until the end of the meal. Even after everything that had happened over the previous few weeks, after all the gossip and the shock and the humiliation, she was determined to enjoy one final meal at her favorite restaurant, even if – for one – she had to dine alone.

“I'll make you regret your choice, Harry,” she whispered, keeping her voice low. “What does that Mary bint have that I don't? Why would you run off with her and leave me all...”

Her eyes were fixed on the bottle, and she couldn't help thinking of the thick, black liquid within. She'd worried that she might have second thoughts, that she'd lack the necessary resolve to go through with her plan, but now she actually felt rather calm. After so much uncertainty and doubt, it soothed her soul to know exactly what was coming next.

No physical pain could match what she felt in her heart.

“Table nine will always be ours,” she said under her breath, her voice trembling with tears before she managed once again to pull herself together. Glancing down at the bottle again as the waitress approached, she forced herself to smile. “Always, for all time. No-one will ever be able to take it from us, and one day, I shall have company here again.”

With that, as the waitress brought over a jug of water, Vivian began to unscrew the bottle's lid. A faint, curling wisp of vapor rose from the rim.