The Shadows' Empress (Part 9)

Jacob ended his call with the pizza restaurant and went into the living room to see which movie his youngest children selected. He looked at the title stamped across the large screen in LED lights: ‘Suicide Squad’. This was the fourth or fifth time they had watched this movie.

            “Again?” Jacob asked, wondering if he should laugh or be concerned that his young twins were so interested in the concept of the bad guys being made to do good deeds. But still, their excitement made him smile. He especially thought it was cute when Spencer giggled at the screen when one of the characters said something funny.

            ‘He must be smarter than I thought if none of these jokes are going over his head,’ Jacob thought as he looked over at his oldest son who had been scowling since the movie started. ‘Either he doesn’t wanna watch this movie again, or he’s having one of those mood swings teenagers deal with.’

            The chiming of the doorbell rang through the house.

            “Pizza’s here!” Jacob proclaimed, eliciting happy cheering from his children and, in Roland’s case, growling from his stomach despite the look on his face. Although, with the lights on, Roland seemed less angry. He was probably angry about something and didn’t want them to know.

            “You mind helping me out, Roland?” Jacob didn’t need help to carry four pizzas to the living room. He just wanted to talk. And maybe get him to bring the drinks, because it had been a long day, and papa needed a cold one.

            Roland didn’t answer, but he got up from his spot on the couch between his brother and sister and walked over to meet his father in the kitchen. Jacob paid the delivery guy and gave him a decent tip considering he had to drive out to the country to deliver the pizzas. Putting them on the table, Jacob asked, “everything alright, buddy? You’ve been quiet and kinda angry all night…”

            “I’m fine…” Roland muttered, thinking about the dream he’d had. Given the circumstances, he couldn’t just pretend it wasn’t real. How does a picture you took in your dream show up on your phone in real life?

Jacob sighed. He knew better than to believe a child when they said they were “fine”.

“Let me rephrase that. I know something’s wrong. What is it?” Jacob asked putting his arm around his son, so Roland couldn’t try to avoid the conversation.

For the first time since in his entire life, Roland felt uncomfortable around his father. By now, he’d decided it was obvious that Jacob had been lying to him about his mother’s death. Roland even tried to justify his father’s lies. Who wants to tell a young boy his mother died because of something that wasn’t an accident? What would happen to someone so young, mentally, if they knew had that kind of information? Could someone as young as Roland was at the time even understand the situation? Roland figured the reason he’d felt so betrayed was because he’d like to think he was smart enough to grasp the concept of death without potentially going crazy. Besides, nobody likes being lied to in any circumstance.

Roland took a deep breath, slowly in and out. He looked over his shoulder into the living room to make sure his younger siblings weren’t listening. The young man had just realized what the real reason was; no child should have to worry about something as grim as death.

“How did Mom really die?” Roland stared into his father’s eyes who appeared shocked at the question. Roland was just as shocked, himself. He was planning on coming up with something else to convince Jacob that something completely different was bugging him. But, his real concern ejected itself from his mouth.

The pair stared at each other for a moment before Jacob gave his son a gentle smile.

“You’re a smart kid, so I guess I should’ve seen that one coming…” Jacob said softly so the twins didn’t hear. Surely by now they’d be peering into the kitchen to see what was taking them so long to bring the pizza into the living room, so they could eat while continuing their movie.

“You wanna talk about it? Say, after we eat? The Scarlet and Spencer will probably eat us if we don’t bring them their food,” Jacob chuckled.

“Sure…” Roland said, feeling a bit better about the situation, and also sort of scared. ‘What if Dad’s just thinking of another lie or a way to…kill me, too?’ Roland decided he needed to stop being so paranoid and just let things happen.

Jacob face his son and pulled Roland into a big, bear hug, whispering, “I love you, buddy. And, even if you don’t like what I have to say, everything is gonna be fine.”

What Happened on Mom's Birthday (2/3)

Eva and Natasha looked behind them at the front door. The opaque window had been broken, and an arm surrounded by the sleeve of a black winter coat was swinging back and forth. It seemed to be reaching for the door knob, but the window was much too high were them to reach. Natasha screamed, and ran up the stairs to their parent’s room. Eva, now very unstable, wobbled over to the front door, and locked the deadbolt as her sister forgot to when she came home. Eva sat with her back against the door and tried to catch her breath. Things seemed to be going too fast, and her vision was unfocused.

She had a clear view to the back door, where the first person in black was standing. With the drugs and booze in her system she could see two of everything. Which made watching the person raise a rock and smash the sliding glass door to millions of pieces much more frightening. As the glass rained down on the hardwood floor, Eva screamed for Natasha to hurry up, but there was no response.

“Natasha?! They’re in the house!”

‘Wait, why am I scared?’ Eva asked herself. ‘I wanted to die. And I’ll probably be unconscious in a few minutes.’

“Natasha?” Eva tried to force herself to sound calmer. “I love you, and I’m really going to me being your sister.”

Tears began to roll down her cheeks again as she realized what she had just said. It seemed to solidify that, regardless of how it happens, she was going to die today.

“When you get the chance, get out of the house and run to the neighbor’s, okay? They’ll be able to help. And call Mom and Dad. Don’t let them walk into this mess. Not on Mom’s birthday…”

Eva looked up the stairs, slowly turning her head, and ignoring everything else around her. She didn’t even notice most of it. The person at the front door was gone, but their ring had fallen on her and bounced off. The side door in the kitchen was now open, and a shorter person was walking slowly towards her. The person at the back door was almost in front of her. And there were lights shining into the house flashing red and blue. None of that mattered.

At the top of the stairs, slowly walking down, was Natasha. Only, all her clothes were entirely black, and her face was distorted, apart from Eva’s already slightly impaired vision. In fact, Eva could only tell that it was her sister because of her distinctive hair style, similar to Rihanna, circa 2008.

The person in front of Eva stopped down, much faster than they could walk, and placed his hand under her chin. They lifted her chin up to make her face them, and Eva finally realized. It was her father. But, as soon as she reached that realization, her father had thrust is index finger into her mouth, as far back as he could, only pulling his finger out when the alcohol and remnants of the Vicodin that she took earlier forced their way back up.  Heaving several times, she realized Natasha was holding her phone and the half-empty bottle of Vicodin. Eva had forgotten to put it back in the medicine cabinet. But she did remember to read to bottle, and forcing someone to vomit was not how you’re supposed to handle an overdose.

Despite her father’s efforts, Eva fell unconscious against the door.

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“Don’t forget to lock the door, Tasha,” said Bernice, looking back at her daughter.

“I’m not going to forget,” Natasha sighed. “And I won’t let Benji stay up too late.”

“Okay,” Bernice smiled. “I wasn’t going to ask you to do that, but he does stay up too late some nights.”

“He’s a teenage boy, Mom. That’s kind of their thing.”

“It’s those damned videogames,” Marcus mumbled as he put his jacket on. “I wish he’d do something more productive, one of these days.”

“He works a lot on being more creative,” Natasha offered.

“Videogames can’t help with that, can they?” Marcus asked.

“I’m not sure, but he draws a lot. He’s pretty good, too. Maybe you should check them out?”

Marcus considered this silently, with a growing smirk on his face at the thought that his son might be doing something useful in secret. “Maybe. When he opens the door to his room.”

Eva laughed at that as she walked down the stairs. “Are you guys leaving, already?

“There’s my other favorite daughter!” Marcus said Kissing Eva on the forehead and giving her a bearhug.

“If we don’t go now, we probably never will. But we’ll be back in a few hours.” Bernice said.

“Where are we going, again?” Marcus asked for the third time that day, and got the same answer.

“Don’t worry about it,” Bernice giggled. “Where’s Benji?”

“He’s taking a nap,” Eva replied. “He was…up all night,”

“Videogames?” Marcus raised an eyebrow.

“No, Dad! He said he was making something. For your birthday.” The inflection at the end of Natasha’s sentence indicating that Marcus should know better.

“Oh, well, as long as he’s doing something good with his time. Maybe he’ll work for Disney, or something.”

“Probably, not,” Eva laughed. “His work is more realistic. They look more like he took pictures with a camera, and less like he drew them.”

“Is that so? Maybe I’ll have to ask to see them when we get back from our date,” Marcus made a sad attempt to wiggle his eyebrows at his wife.

“Stop, Marcus. We’re already married. You don’t have to try to be funny,” laughed Bernice.

“You laughed, though. So, it worked.”

The Pits (Part 5)

More than caught up. Max did a complete three-hundred sixty degree turn to see that he and Simon were surrounded. By this time, Simon was beginning to hyperventilate, but forced himself to slow his breathing. ‘At least Gio got away,’ said Max in his head. Although, he’d much have preferred to have escaped as well. He put his back to Simon’s. The last thing he wanted was for one of them to grab him, even though it was likely to happen anyway. Being back-to-back with Simon was like being backed against a door with another killer on the other side. In other words: not much help.

“What do you guys want?” Simon asked, shocking everyone including himself. Just a minute ago, he was having trouble breathing correctly.

“We want you,” said one of the other cultists with a very feminine, but firm voice.

At the same time, all of the cultists pointed at Simon and Max, repeating the words “We want you”, although they were out of sync. Their voice started low, but grew louder and louder making Max somehow feel as if walls were closing in on him. It didn’t take long before Max couldn’t take it anymore.

“SHUT UP!” he yelled before grabbing Simon’s trembling arm and attempting to run through the circle of people towards the part of the trail that turned left at the fork. He barreled through the two people who had tried to create a wall by standing side-by-side. Simon wasn’t as lucky. The same people grabbed him by the arm that Max wasn’t holding onto, and pulled him away from Max.

Simon’s arm slipped out of Max’s hand, and before he could go back and reach for Simon one of the bigger people in the group picked his friend up and threw him over his shoulder.

“If you want your friend, you’ll come with us,” the big one murmured in the deepest voice Max had ever heard. They stood there staring at Max to see what he would do.

“Run!” Simon yelled to Max. “It’ll be harder for them to catch you now!”

“Bu—”

“Fucking GO!”

For once, Simon was the scariest person around, yelling in a way that Max had only heard once before. Flashbacks of his parent’s worst fight resulting in his father finally leaving them for good played throughout his brain before One of the cultists took a step forward to reach out for Max, who took a quick step back.

“Sorry, Simon…” he said as he turned and ran down the path. ‘I guess I can leave my best friend. Must not be as good a person as I thought I was.’

“Why would you tell him to leave you?” the leader of the cult asked while watching Max run downhill and out of sight.

“No sense us both getting caught,” Simon quietly answered. “Besides, I was keeping something from him, too. So, I guess he and I are even.”

“And what would that be?” The leader turned to face Simon as he lay draped across the large man’s shoulder.

‘I wanted to die, anyway,’ Simon thought returning the leader’s gaze. “Don’t worry about it.”

“It seems to me as if you have a death wish. Most people in your situation would be kicking, screaming, and begging for their friends’ help.”

“I take it you’ve done this before,” Simon said trying to sound as defiant as his friends had earlier in the evening.

“Yes. To everyone here. And it was done to me, as well. I needed to be shown the righteous path.”
            “Great…”

“I would like to show you the same, if you would allow me. We can mentor you and show you how to live a better life.” The cult leader held his hand out toward Simon as if to shake his hand.

Simon stared at the hand in front of him for a second before glaring at the leader.

“I’d rather die.”

The leader lowered his hand, and began walking away. “Gabriel?”

“Yes, Father?” the large man carrying Simon turned to face the leader as he walked away. The man apparently known as Father stopped suddenly, and without turning around, spoke.

“Give him what he wants.”

Father continued to walk back into the woods with a small group of other members of the cult. The other cultists continued after Max, leaving Gabriel alone with Simon.

“Well, come on th—” Before Simon could finish his sentence, Gabriel grabbed Simon by the legs, reared up, flinging Simon over and face-first into the ground. Simon was now blinded with dirt—not that he could see much before this incident—and refused to open his

eyes to face his murderer. He felt Gabriel stomp of his stomach a few times, then felt the large man’s breath against his face.

            “Too bad I have ta kill ya,” he began. “Your kinda cute.”

            Simon could barely cough out a response before Gabriel rolled him over and slammed his face into the rock next to Simon’s head.

            Once…Twice…

            Gabriel then picked up the rock and bashed it against Simon’s major joints, breaking several bones in the process. Simon didn’t feel all of the pain that was being inflicted as he passed out when Gabriel broke his right arm. And soon after, he slowly stopped breathing.

            Gabriel giggled. “When you’re dead, you’ll be a pretty present for Father. Maybe he’ll hang ya up like he did the last guy and I’ll get ta see ya some more.” 

What Happened on Mom's Birthday (1/3)

Eva held the bottle of Vicodin in her hand, weighing her options. She could not take the pills, and pretend everything was okay like she had been for the past few years. Or, she could take them, and get on with it. The thing about committing suicide is that when you’ve decided death is the best way out it’s hard to change your mind. She opened the bottle of her mother’s medicine.

            “I’m sorry, Mom,” she whispered. “Hopefully, you’ll forgive me.”

            Eva poured a handful of pills into her hand and stuffed them in her mouth. Taking several hard gulps with a glass of water she thought ‘This is how they do it, right? At least in the movies. Maybe I should have taken them one by one?’

            “That should be enough. Well, more than enough.”

            Closing the medicine cabinet, Eva looked into the mirror noticing the puffy, red areas around her eyes. Obvious evidence that she’d been crying. She Splashed cold water onto her face a few times trying to decrease the swelling. If anyone asked, she would just say she had allergies. That sounded stupid, even to Eva, but who cared? She wouldn’t have to keep up the charade for too long.

            ‘Now for part two…’

            There was a knock at the door, and then the doorbell rung throughout the house. It had to be her sister Natasha. ‘Impatient as ever,’ Eva thought as the doorbell rang again before she could even make it down the hallway.

            “It’s about time!” Natasha said excitedly. “We have to set up for the party!”

            Looking around the house, Natasha noticed that there were no decorations, no cake, and something seemed wrong with Eva.

            “Well, it’s not like setting up for a party will take too much time, if it’s the both of us,” Natasha smiled brightly.

            Eva was suddenly reminded of a song by her favorite band, Paramore:

                        ‘If I smile with my teeth, I’ll bet they believe me

                        If I smile with my teeth, I think I believe me’

            She thought it was amazing how they can make an album that seemed mostly about depression sound so upbeat. But maybe that was the point.

            “What’s wrong with your eyes, Hun?” Natasha asked reaching up to touch her sisters still slightly puffy eyes. Eva swatted her sister’s hand away saying “I think it’s just allergies. They’ve been like this all day.”

            “You’ve never had allergies, but if you say so,” Natasha watched as Eva walked over the wine cabinet and poured herself a glass. “You’ve never been much of a wine drinker, either.”

            “Maybe I want to take a break from appletini’s…?” Eva said with a hint of annoyance.

            “Are you sure you’re alright? You’re moving kind of slow, today.”

            “Yeah, I’m fine. I just took some allergy medicine. Maybe they’re making me a little drowsy.”

            “Should you be drinking after taking them?” Natasha asked suddenly feeling alarmed at her sister’s lack of concern.

            “I’ll be fine,” Eva smiled for the first time that day. ‘Vicodin and alcohol are normally a bad match, but I’m not planning on not waking up.’

            Natasha was almost positive that something was wrong, but didn’t want to push the issue and make it worse. She’d done that in the past with other people who ended up not talking to her for days at a time. “Okay. Well, I’m going to start on the cake. D’you think you’re alert enough to put up—”

            “Yeah, I got it.”

            Natasha rolled her eyes as she turned away from Eva. “Thanks…” She decided to bring up her sister’s strange attitude up with their father when she got home. ‘No sense in making their mother worry on her birthday.’

            It had been a few minutes and Eva was feeling really tired. ‘Must be working,’ She thought as she hung up the string of letter that spelled out Happy Birthday. ‘I should have done this the first time.’

            As Eva was unsteadily attempting to pin the Happy Birthday sign on the wall, she noticed that someone was in their back yard. Thinking it was one of the neighbor’s kids trying to retrieve their football—for the twenty-seventh time that week—she was shocked to see an adult standing there, so still.

            Staring at her.

            The combination of the drugs and alcohol must have been really kicking in now. Eva was unable to recognize any distinguishing features about the person. They seemed to be wearing all-black winter clothing, which would make sense as it was snowing outside. However, Eva was unable to see their face properly. All she could see was a blur. But then she realized, the person’s face was the only thing that was blurry. The rest of them—their clothes, even the small logo on their hat—was still clearly visible. And they looked familiar.

            “Hey, Tasha!” Eva tried to sound nonchalant about this bizarre person on the other side of the window. “When are Mom and Dad getting home?”

            “They should be here in about thirty minutes with Benji. Why?”

            “Just wanted to know if I was making good time.”

            Natasha walked into the living room, wiping her hands with a paper towel. “The ‘Happy’ side is lower than the ‘Birthday’ side. Could you…who is that?”

            “You see them, too?”

            “Yeah, it’s pretty obvious that they’re there when they wear all black in the snow.” Natasha’s temper was beginning to rise faster than the temperature in the oven. Not being one to mess with, she went to the back door and opened it wide, yelling “I don’t care who you are, if you don’t leave, I’m getting my dad’s shotgun! I’ll call the police when you’re dead!”

            Normally, that would scare people away. Really, Natasha’s yelling could have caused most people to grow a tail and run away with it between their legs. But not this time. They start slowly walking towards the door, one step at a time, as if they were only now learning how to walk.

            Natasha closed the door and locked it, “I’m going upstairs to get Dad’s gun! I need you to make sure all of the doors and windows ar—”

            CRASH