The Torment Page 9

  “This is the Torment,” Laz said after following Lacey’s gaze. “All of those who killed members of the Kingdom ended up here as a special treat for these things. It’s not just a onetime deal, either. Any descendant of the original members of the earth Kingdom is protected while they are preparing for their everlasting life here. So, if anyone kills or injures a descendant on purpose, that person ends up here pretty much right away. They are taken, alive or dead, for eternity. Part of the treat for these things is they get to leave this place and drag them down here.”

  Lacey’s mind raced. Collete killed his family—who unfortunately for him were descendants of the original members of the Kingdom. Hence, Robbie was given the task of dragging his father down to, what was this place, hell?

  She shook her head briskly, unwilling—or maybe unable—to put all of the pieces together.

  “What do you have to do with this place?” Lacey shuddered despite the warmth.

  “Me and the sheriff, your old sheriff, I mean, we guard the entrance.”

  Lacey’s heart broke with the old sheriff words. “Guard it why?”

  “We can’t stop them when they are collecting someone because of the Torment. They’re sneaky things though. They’ll try to escape during the Torment even though they’re not involved with that collecting. When they’re out, they get special mean. Sometimes they get out even when there isn’t a Torment. That’s what happened to Jared and those guys.”

  Lacey processed this and spoke out loud without realizing it. “The girl.”

  Laz nodded.

  “That girl is from the Kingdom. She set up those boys in order to take them—as part of the Torment.” Lacey pondered some more. “She doesn’t appear as a shadow like the others. Why?”

  The answer came to her like lightening before Laz could reply. “Her eyes looked reptilian. You saw that, right?”

  Laz gave the slightest of nods.

  “She isn’t one of them. That’s Rhona McEwan, isn’t it?

  Laz smiled. “You see it too. Yeah, that’s her. I think the townsfolk were right. She is a demon. She’s always lived in town in one form or another. She can appear to be any age, and she tries to trick people into the Kingdom. That’s really nasty. She shouldn’t do that.”

  Lacey was nonplussed at Laz’s earnest belief that there should be rules and guidelines for this sort of thing.

  “Good Lord.”

  “Here’s more of the Torment.” Laz shrugged in Collete’s direction. He was now surrounded by his entire family. Robbie had been joined by Tamara and his sister—both sprouting the repugnant horns.

  A figure in a red robe approached Collete, who was still kneeling. As if on cue, Rhona McEwan presented herself. The robe was torturously vivid, and her blond hair stood out against the terrain like something obscene.

  She slapped Collete once across the face and leered at the family. They were eager to approach and seemed to be awaiting some signal. Finally, with a dramatic swing of her arm, the sleeve of her robe ruffling like a flag in the breeze, she signaled her permission.

  The trio descended violently on Collete and ate.

  Lacey placed a hand on Laz’s shoulder to use as a brace for turning 180 degrees. She faced the back of the cabin only a few yards away. Lacey longed to return to her world, and the cabin extended the invitation.

  “So, does Collete die now? Is that it?”

  Lacey sensed rather than saw Laz shake his head.

  “He was already dead. This is just the beginning. When they’re done, he grows everything back. It just reappears. Then he’s thrown into the crowd of other people where he fights to avoid being sucked under—just like everyone else.”

  A bell rang.

  Despite her better judgment, Lacey returned to her view of the havoc. Rhona stood partly up the mountain ringing a triangle dinner bell that hung in the air. The metalwork had appeared out of nowhere.

  Glistening black tentacles extended from the crowd of seething bodies. At first Lacey thought there was only one, but a second appeared, and a third, and then they sprouted from below the damned souls at such a rate that she stopped trying to count them. Although they had no obvious means of vision, the tentacles throbbed and flexed over the crowd with the tips focusing downward, searching. As if programmed to unleash their power at an anointed time, they reached back and then dove savagely into the crowd. Bodies were tossed and dissected like paper as the tentacles rummaged. Having found their targets, they sprung into the air with the chosen victims gripped in their clutches. The victims screamed—although none of these people had ever really stopped screaming the entire time Lacey was observing—as the tentacles brought them over to the mountainside much like a crane at a construction site. The bodies were dropped there, cringing and shrieking louder than before.

  Lacey was astonished to see people she knew in this selected group. Gerald Dudley, Nathan Caufield, and others who’d been involved with criminal activities that harmed or killed people—and then disappeared.

  At the base of the path, close to where the Collete family was enjoying the feast of the late husband and father, two other people writhed in pain and terror. Lacey gasped when she saw Mitchell and Hunter—their previously lithe bodies scarred and burned beyond repair.

  Within moments, a shrill cry like that of a charging platoon of soldiers echoed above the cacophony of the souls below. The demons, the residents of the Kingdom, ran at full speed from their dwellings farther up the mountain toward the selected. It was dinnertime.

  “This never ends, either. The Torment repeats all the time. After they are eaten, they grow everything back, they’re thrown into the crowd to fight from being burned, and then it’s time to be eaten again,” Laz instructed her. “They keep being eaten, over and over.”

  “Not everyone down there can be a product of the Torment,” Lacey whispered. “Not by a long shot.”

  “No. Others come here too once they die. They earned their place here.”

  Lacey brought a hand to her mouth and shuddered.

  “Laz! Lazarus!”

  Lacey couldn’t believe it. She hadn’t thought they were visible to the others.

  Below, Mitchell was yelling—screaming—up to them. Surrounded by the Kingdom dwellers, Mitchell was slowly being devoured. His private parts were gone with only a stringy mess of tissue remaining. Thigh muscles were also missing, and bone glimmered through the filtered light. One creature had buried its head into his abdomen and appeared to be sucking out the contents in a frenzy. The thing raised its head at the sound of Mitchell’s voice. Lacey was sickened to see the small intestines tangled on one of the horns.

  “Lazarus, please help me!” Mitchell called. His plea was heartbreaking and desperate. “Oh man, I’m so sorry. Please get me out of here. Please? Please?”

  “I can’t, sorry,” Laz replied in a whisper.

  Lacey believed he was telling the truth, but she knew that Mitchell wouldn’t be able to hear him. Mitchell groaned.

  “Oh, God. Lazarus, please. Take my hand and rescue me. I’ll never, I’ll never…”

  “We better go.” Laz turned away from the scene before them and he sighed.

  “Yes, please. Dear God.”

  6

  AFTER

  THE KIDS WERE BACK IN school now. Lacey’s internal rhythm still operated on an academic calendar, where September brought the start of a new year. She supposed she would never shake that perspective after all the decades of teaching. She missed it. Even working with children that would grow up to be the Darrin Colletes of the world. Sometimes she could find hidden gems buried deep within their beings. Sometimes.

  Lacey sighed. Maybe she was looking at the past through rose-colored glasses. Back then she’d probably dreaded having to deal with the troublemakers when an entire school year was staring her in the face.

  At least a disruptive child was something she could get her head around. Context was everything, she supposed.

  Lacey turned left onto th
e street where Sadie Merchant used to live. The realtor sign stood in the front yard with a dramatic “SOLD” attached.

  A new family had purchased the house. They were in the process of unpacking. A gigantic moving van was parked in front, and more people than Lacey would have imagined were scurrying about. With a warm feeling, she realized that neighbors were stopping over and welcoming the family. Sadie would have liked that.

  Sadie passed away back in 1995, still looking good for her age and never slowing down until a massive stroke took her in the blink of an eye. Not a bad way to go. The new family was probably the second or third since then. Nice people always, but she still missed Martin’s favorite source of area history and folklore. Lacey had never tired of having her for dinner or going over to her house. She was a welcomed friend and a link to another era.

  Lacey often wondered what she would have thought about her discovery in the cabin and the rest of the saga behind the Torment. Incorporate it naturally into her overall account, probably. More grist for the folklore mill.

  After Laz had guided her safely back through the cabin and out into the fresh air of an Appalachian summer night, Lacey was stunned that they’d only been inside for twenty minutes. It seemed, well, like an eternity. The sense of oppression was crushing, and she realized she’d had a glimpse of what major depression must be like for some people.

  Martin was there when she stepped outside. He didn’t approach her, just sort of smiled.

  “Will I keep seeing him?” she asked Laz.

  “No, ma’am. This was just special circumstance.”

  Lacey noticed another man approaching the cabin. She was not surprised to see him naked. His body was soft and pudgy, with tanned arms. There was a swath of pale skin where he’d worn a wristwatch. He sobbed and moaned uncontrollably, yet he kept coming forward. No one was escorting him.

  “Oh dear, tell me this isn’t what I think it is.”

  “Yeah, it is. He’s dead and it’s time for him to come here.”

  “He came here on his own. Without help.”

  “Sometimes they know to come. There’s no other choice.”

  “Laz, tell me I’m not going to see all of these people showing up all the time for the rest of my life.”

  Laz actually smiled, a rarity. “No, I don’t think so. You’ll lose the ability to see them pretty soon.”

  Lacey wondered how he knew this.

  “Besides, not all that many people end up there.”

  When they arrived at Laz’s house, Aaron, Daphne, and Jared emerged to meet them in the driveway. Aaron went to his son and whispered quietly to him. Laz nodded and walked toward the back of the house.

  Daphne started pumping her with questions. Lacey held up her hands to quiet her down.

  Jared was quiet, and to Lacey’s dismay, a little out of it.

  “I can’t go into it right now. I’m exhausted and everything is too complicated.”

  She looked at Aaron. His face was unreadable.

  “Laz?”

  “He’s okay. I sent him inside to get cleaned up. You should go home to and do the same. Throw out those clothes too. You really can’t get them clean—getting that stuff off is nearly impossible.”

  Lacey recalled the grimy coating she’d noticed on her skin and clothes.

  “What stuff?” Daphne asked.

  She ignored the question. “Jared, you look awful. Are you going to be sick?”

  “He already was,” Aaron informed her.

  “Okay, that’s it. Daphne, take him to the hospital. Now.”

  “Sheriff, that’s okay. I’m alright.” Jared blinked his eyes twice and tried to stand up straight. He wavered slightly on his feet.

  “I don’t care what you think. Daphne, take him. And if I hear you didn’t go, I swear to God I am going to break into your place and drag you there myself. Then I will tell your mother.”

  Jared didn’t object again, so Lacey figured he was just trying to be stoic before.

  Daphne looked fit to be tied. Again. “I’ll talk to both of you later,” Lacey said, hoping this would soothe her.

  Aaron helped her young deputy to the passenger door while Daphne climbed into her car. She hit the lights but not the siren and took off. Lacey felt some relief as they headed back to safety. She waited for Aaron to approach her.

  “You know about what goes on up there?”

  Aaron nodded.

  “Have you ever been inside?”

  Aaron nodded again. “Once. It was enough.”

  It was Lacey’s turn to nod.

  “You saw your husband.”

  Lacey eyes watered. She whispered, “Yes”.

  “Laz likes him. They work together.”

  “You’ve seen him too?”

  “Only once. Really, I’m not involved. I just try and take care of Laz.”

  “Does this upset him?”

  Aaron paused. “I’m not sure. I mean, it has to on some level. But he has an important job. He keeps us safe. Maybe his mind allows him to process it differently than we do.”

  “How did this happen? How did he fall into this? Good heavens, he didn’t interview for it.”

  “Who knows? How does Laz know any of the things he does?” Aaron turned to the house as if checking to see if his son was in earshot. “Maybe he did interview for it.”

  They stood quietly for a long time. The previous evening’s thunderstorm had cleared out the humidity, and the night was beautiful.

  “I’ve got to go, Aaron. I’ll probably be stopping by at some point.”

  “That’s fine, Sheriff, anytime.”

  Still, she didn’t move.

  “What am I supposed to do with this knowledge?”

  Aaron shrugged. “Nothing. It’s not like there’s something you can do about it.”

  Lacey walked to her car. When she opened the door she hesitated. Aaron was still watching her.

  “I’m having trouble with the idea that the entrance to hell is just up the road.”

  He turned in the direction of the cabin, then returned his gaze to Lacey. “My understanding is that it’s not the only one. Think of it like an airport. We have the regional hub.”

  Lacey parked far enough away to give the folks unloading the moving van plenty of room. She walked slowly toward the house and stopped when reaching the property line. The sweeping front porch remained, thank goodness, and Lacey imagined the view was still spectacular even with the newer homes dotting the landscape.

  Children were running around the neighborhood, laughing with delight at whatever adventure they were partaking in. Lacey thought of Jared and Daphne, who remained a loyal couple despite Jared’s recent upheavals. She recently saw them walking hand in hand downtown. Lacey almost didn’t recognize them without their work clothes, dressed in shorts and T-shirts like any other kids. She shook her head. Young adults. Really, though, early twentysomethings were still kids.

  There was nothing seriously wrong with Jared after he crashed his car chasing after the Colletes, but he was admitted to the hospital for observation—and he finally recalled the events from the night of the blizzard a few years ago. Luckily he hadn’t had to endure the next chapter in the story.

  “Jared told me about what happened,” Daphne said when she approached Lacey in her office one evening. “About Mitchell and Hunter being captured and dragged away and all.”

  Lacey didn’t elaborate. This was far enough for them to take it. Jared seemed content with the information he had. Daphne wasn’t, of course.

  “Certain things don’t make sense in life. This is one of them. I can’t explain what happened to Collete and what everyone saw. Sometimes you just have to live with ambiguity.”

  Daphne growled. Living with ambiguity was not her forte.

  “Uhm, Officer, can I help you?”

  Lacey was so lost in thought that she hadn’t noticed the woman approaching.

  “Oh dear. I’m sorry. I was just spacing out. I’m Lacey Nelson. You must be the
new owner.”

  “Yes—well, one of them anyway. I’m Cheryl Lynn. My husband, David, and the kids are around here somewhere.” Cheryl focused on Lacey’s name tag. “My, you’re the sheriff.”

  Lacey smiled at this reaction. She received it often. “Yes, it’s been quite an adventure.”

  Cheryl looked as though she took great pains with impression management. She could be anywhere from thirty-five to forty-five but looked thirty, with chestnut hair touched with a hint of blond highlights. She wore a workout shirt and shorts that fit impeccably and accentuated her skin tone. Lacey never bothered with this kind of presentation. Neither teaching nor law enforcement inspired it. Nonetheless, she admired women who did, although she didn’t know why. Martin was never drawn to this kind of thing.

  An awkward silence ensued, and Lacey felt the need to explain her presence. “I’d heard you were moving in, so I thought I’d take a ride out. A dear friend of mine used to live here for a long, long time. I just got to thinking about her. I’m a sentimental mess, I suppose.”

  Cheryl looked relieved. “Oh, not at all. It sounds like you had a wonderful friendship.”

  “Mom?”

  A little boy ambled up to Cheryl, swinging his arms in an exaggerated fashion. When he reached her, the boy collapsed into her side and wrapped his arms around her.

  “I’m bored.”

  Cheryl laughed. “Sorry, kiddo. Moving isn’t that much fun, but we’ve got to keep at it.”

  She turned to Lacey and said, “This is our youngest, Trevor.”

  “Hello, Trevor, it’s a pleasure to meet you.”

  “Honey, this is the sheriff.”

  The boy looked up, amazed—and a little disbelieving, Lacey thought. “You’re the sheriff?”

  “Believe it or not, yes I am.”

  “Mom?” This voice came from beyond the truck.

  “That’s our oldest. There’s one more in between.” Cheryl turned to Trevor. “Where’s your father?”

  “I don’t know,” he whimpered. “Besides, he’s busy.”

  “I bet he is.” Lacey smiled.