Authors: Taft Sowder
Tags: #scary, #murder, #family, #deadly, #taftsowder.com, #creepy, #bloody, #dark, #demented, #death, #serial killer, #psychologica, #gory, #Taft Sowder
She looked down the hall, and to her surprise, no one had come to find her, but she knew that it would only be a matter of time. If she could just find a place to hide, find a weapon, she would have something.
Up the stairs she went, as fast as her feet would carry her, tripping on the stairs on her way up. After two turns, she reached the landing of the second floor; a straight and dark hallway greeted her. There were three doors and she had not a clue what lay beyond any of them, but this was her choice. She tried the door on the right. It opened into darkness. Not even a glimmer of light came from inside. Not even a glimmer of hope stirred inside her. She left it open and tried the one at the end of the hall. It was locked, probably just a closet anyway. Then she tried the one opposite the open door. There was pale light spilling in through the curtains of a window on the far side of the room.
This was a chance at redemption,
she thought. She ran inside. It was a bedroom, possibly a guest bedroom. She ran to the window and flung it open. Outside it was cold, and the night air nipped at her skin. She leaned forward out the window to take a quick look. There was nothing out there, no ledge to stand on, no balcony, and no fire escape ladder. She was far too used to the city life and downtown apartments with long black fire escapes crisscrossing the side or back of a building. Here, in Suburbia, USA, she was in a whole new world. The ground was far below, and she felt a tightening in her stomach. She knew she would never jump, and if she did jump, what awaited her landing? A broken leg, ankle, neck or maybe she would survive, but then where to? A neighbor—what if they were as crazy as this family?
She stood in the cold air, contemplating the thought of possible suicide, knowing that she didn’t really have the guts to jump, but wishing that she did. After a second of hesitation, she turned and scanned the room, looking for a place to hide. There was a bed next to the window. It was the obvious place to look, a useless hiding place. A dresser next to the bed offered no escape either. On the far wall, a doorknob twinkled in the moonlight, obviously the door to the closet, but worth a look. She hurried across the room and opened the door. The light from the moon lit the inside enough to see racks of old clothes. The aroma of moth balls wafted out and filled the air. She held her breath and dived into the clothes, pushing them to the side; it was hard though, the rack was full to the brim.
She closed the door behind her and stood in the dark, the blue ambiance that filled the bedroom barely visible at the crack under the door. She stood in the closet, frightened, feeling as if her breath was stolen from her. She tried to force her breath to come more regularly, but it was as if her lungs had a mind of their own. Her breathing came in spurts. It struck her then that this was a bad place to hide. She opened the door, praying no one was in the room. They weren’t. She came out and closed the door.
Across the hall the door was still open and the room still dark. She was hesitant, but hoped that there was no one in the room close by. She darted across the hall and into the room. Standing just on the other side of the threshold, she searched for a light switch. Her fingers found one, and she flipped it. She gasped at what she saw, and then she heard someone on the stairs, a tell-tale creak came from a ways away. She flipped off the light and tried again to hold her breath, hoping that no one would find her.
Herman was on the stairs, or was it Frank? Either way, he was there. He took them slowly, unsure of what he might find. He wasn’t afraid, she was a young girl; what did he have to fear from her? Drawing it out, making her afraid, it was a good tactic to keep her under better control. Fear was the key. That was what the world taught. Through fear, a man can control anything, anyone. If fear was a key, then what did it unlock? According to whom one asked, it could unlock many things such as domination and control, a better life and a better world. It was a lesson that many a man tried to teach the world—Hitler, for one, sowed the seeds of fear, and through that fear he nearly conquered the world and for what? To make the world a better place? At least, according to his standards, it was for this reason.
This was the sort of thing that constantly ran through Herman’s head. He only knew that fear was the key, but did not understand what the key unlocked; only that it did indeed unlock something. He didn’t care if it unlocked the secrets to a better world; he only cared that he could control Amber right now. If she escaped, he knew the game would be over. His family would be split apart and taken. They would have no mercy on him in the courts of Small Town, Kentucky. There was no way he would survive it. He would then be locked in a prison cell and probably sentenced to death, and perhaps his family as well would suffer the same fate. He would not let that happen.
He crept up the stairs, slowly taking them until he was on the landing. The dark hallway lay before him, only it was not so dark near the stairs. The door to the spare bedroom stood wide open casting a blue glow onto the opposite wall and highlighting that the door opposite was open as well.
He stood in between the doors, knowing that the hall closet at the end of the room was locked. There, he kept a secret stash of ancient pornographic magazines and video tapes, most of which would be able to get regular play on cable with today’s standards.
The room to the right was dark, and it was an unfinished room. The floor joists were visible in most of the room with only the initial entryway having an actual floor. It had been a project long forgotten.
The room to the left was well lit thanks to the open shades of the window and the moonlight flooding in. He chose his way. At the window, he peered out. There was not a body on the ground, and he knew that if she had jumped, she would be there in a crumpled heap. This he knew as he was no fool.
Flipping back the covers, he saw that there was no one under the bed. Across the hall, he couldn’t help but imagine her hiding in the dark, cowering in the corner. A smile crossed his lips, and he went for the room.
He flicked the switch, and a bare bulb came on overhead. There was no one in the room. It was well lit from the sixty-watt bulb on the ceiling. The only possible hiding place was across the room at the far end away from the door. There stood an old chimney that had been long forgotten and buried from years of remodeling. Someone must have decided to cut corners before Herman bought the house and had built around the chimney instead of removing it and doing the job properly.
It would be a pain to walk the joists, but he had no choice. He didn’t want to fall through the ceiling, so he took his time. Besides, the girl was barefoot. How far would she make it on the rough wood beams if she decided to dart out and make a run for the door?
He crept slowly; a hissing laugh escaped his lips. He couldn’t help it really. He
knew
he had her. When he reached the brick chimney, he balanced himself on it. He felt a twinge of excitement tickle him on the inside. He was ready to catch the bitch, make her pay for busting the window and make her sorry that she fought back. All he wanted was for his family to be happy and to make her happy. Why didn’t she want to be with him and his family? They took care of her. Better care than she’d ever get elsewhere.
Still balancing himself on the brick, he positioned his body so he could peek around the chimney and give her a good surprise. Then, he did it.
“Hello, young lady.” The words were already out before he realized that there was no one there. The backside of the chimney was empty, only floor joists, dust and an old newspaper clipping.
The room went black, and he heard the door slam shut.
How could he have been such a fool not to look behind the door before he came all this way? Now he was at the mercy of the darkness. No light penetrated the room. He swallowed hard. One misstep, and he would fall through the floor and possibly worse, through the ceiling below and onto the hard floor beneath, or he could fall partway through and get stuck.
He began to inch his way back.
Chapter Eighteen
She had escaped, at least for the moment. She quaked with fear when she first went inside, but knew that the chimney was the obvious place to look. She hoped that he would not look behind the door, but she knew her only hope was to knock him off balance and onto the bare beams. Risky, true, but it really got her blood pumping. She felt a state of euphoria setting in, the endorphins pumping through her bloodstream. She felt invincible. She knew she was far from it, but she felt it.
Now, she was on the other side of the door, not knowing where to turn or what to do. It was a long shot to escape, she knew it. It frightened her, but she had to try something.
She heard footsteps on the stairs. The mother—it had to be the mother. She couldn’t help but panic. She darted across the hall and into the bedroom. She dived under the bed. It was a stupid move. She cussed herself silently the moment she hit the floor, but she had panicked.
She positioned herself so she could see the door. If it was the young boy, she figured she could overpower him. At least she hoped she could. Maybe he would have a weapon; then she knew she had to overpower him, because then she would have the weapon. She saw feet come into view, and they didn’t look like the young boy’s. The legs were feminine. That narrowed it down to a cat fight to the death or maybe an escape if the daughter would help her.
“Are you in here?” A whisper came from the doorway.
She didn’t know who it belonged to, but she didn’t have any reason to believe that the mother would whisper to her. She shrank back as the legs crossed the room to the bed. The hanging blanket pulled back, and she almost screamed.
“That’s a stupid hiding place,” Jessica said looking at the cowering girl under the bed.
“I didn’t know where else to go,” Amber replied in a hushed tone.
“I think you’re trapped here,” Jessica said quietly.
“Why won’t you help me out of here?”
Jessica was silent for a moment and then said, “I will help you as much as I can, but when they get you, you’re on your own. You have to come out of there though, quick.” When Amber was on her feet, Jessica pointed to the closet door. “In there, up above the shelf, there is a small door in the ceiling. It goes into the attic. There is a window up there; if you can squeeze through, you’ll be on the roof. I don’t know where to tell you to go from there, but you’ll be outside. The rest is up to you.”
Amber opened the door and looked up. The pale moonlight shined just enough to show the covered square in the ceiling. Bracing herself on the doorframe, Amber pulled herself up to the shelf. She climbed up and pushed the square door out of the way and disappeared into the ceiling.
There was still a little light to see by for a second. Amber could see the bare beams. Then there was darkness. Jessica must have closed the closet door.
As Amber’s eyes adjusted, she could see a halo of light nearby. She couldn’t make out exactly how far it was, but she knew it was close. She wandered closer, feeling the rough wood in her hands as she crawled. She was close to the window now. The light came in from the sides of a closed grate, a frail attempt to keep birds and other pests at bay.
She pried the grate open with her fingers, the sharp metal cutting into her tender flesh. It burned, but she ignored it. There was no reason to let this stop her. She’d come this far and experienced far worse to let it slow her progress. More light poured into the room. At least now she could see.
She felt the outside air coming in through the open grate. She could only see the dark sky, the occasional star dotting the blackness as she tried several ways to see out.
She poked her fingers through the grate and locked them onto the metal. She pulled hard, straining her muscles. The burning sting in her fingers as she pulled was hard to ignore, but this time it hurt a lot more. She felt the grate give a little under her strain, but it was in there good. She eased off and felt her fingers release from the cutting metal. The stinging continued, and she gritted her teeth, got her grip and pulled again. It was worse this time. It hurt more, but she pulled with all that was in her, blood tricking down her arms and dripping from her elbows. A moment later, the grate gave way and pulled off in her hands. She forced her fingers off the grate, cussing through still gritted teeth.
The night air beckoned. It was quiet outside, not a sound, not even the hum of the engine of a passing car. She peeked out to see what there was to see. The roof was at a slight angle here, but not so steep that she couldn’t make it out there. She stepped out onto the cold metal roof, burning cold against her skin. A chill ran up her spine, but she shook it off. She had to focus. Finding her footing, she inched her way along, unsure of where to go, but knowing that she had to go somewhere. She had to get away.
She stepped toward the edge, hoping she would find a way down. Then, she hit a slick spot. Her foot came out from under her, and she slipped. She felt the stinging cold on her back as she slid toward the edge and then over. Her heart raced. She lucked out, as she had grabbed at just the right moment and caught the rear guttering. Her weight pulled hard on her arms, and she almost lost her grip. Her knees banged the brick wall, and she struggled to keep her hands in place.
Her feet met the brick, and she felt the roughness of them against her skin. She tried to brace herself and pull back up, but it was useless, she wasn’t strong enough.
She looked down, and it scared her, sent a sickening shock through her. Then she felt her fingers slipping and her grip fading. She knew she would fall. She gasped, and then she fell. It took nearly a second, but it seemed to take so much longer. She hit the ground hard, her knees buckling and falling to her side. There was nothing but hard, unforgiving ground to welcome her.