Save Us From Our Fate

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CHAPTER 1

Jill Miller hurried through the wilderness, dark and hazy. Her asthma was angry, but she pushed on despite her wheezing breaths. She pushed some branches aside; others smacked her in the face. Rain spit on her from above, fog coughed in her face with mild halitosis.

Rodney Rabineau was catching up. He was a beast, one of the biggest kids in high school, but he wasn’t exceptionally fast. In his mind he could catch her if things were different, if they were racing on dry, flat land. But in a woods where he had to zig and zag, the advantage went to the smaller, more nimble runner.

Jill came to a clearing. She stopped and looked around, partially hidden behind a pine tree. The Heidner house loomed ahead, the last remains of a farm eons ago had been dismembered by developers. Once considered a two-story architectural marvel, the Colonial style masterpiece had become a bruise upon the township’s horizon. And its history. The normally phlegmatic farmer, Bill Heidner, for some ungodly reason massacred his wife and young children. Why’d he do it? Nobody ever figured that part out. It was one of many questions that forever had gone unanswered. Not even the police could say for certain. What they did say for certain was Bill lived with their corpses for two days. Then one night, and again no one knew for certain why, he went outside and hung himself in a front yard apple tree.

His dangling body went unnoticed until moments before sunup. That’s when a waste management collector spotted it from his truck cab. At first, he thought it was a realistic Halloween decoration. Very realistic. Too realistic. Something about it would not allow him to take his eyes off of it. The more he stared at it, the more curious he became. He put on his truck flashers and trekked up the gravel driveway. The closer he crept toward the house the more hairs on the back of his neck prickled. He stopped and stared, tilting his head in wonderment. Bill’s corpse swayed in the breeze.

Dread overcame the driver. He turned tail and hustled back to his garbage truck as fast as his shaky legs would allow. He radioed his find to dispatch, who thought he was playing another one of his childish pranks. When he snapped a picture with his flip phone camera, their eyes stopped rolling.

“Does that look like a joke to you?”

He had seen some rather unspeakable things in his thirteen years in the waste management industry – maggots crawling inside animal carcasses and stenches straight from the bowels of hell – but seeing that dangling corpse with an elongated neck was seared into his brain until the day he died.

Seeing a dead body hit him hard, but the story behind it, what he did to his family, hit him harder. His stomach churned. Police found the Heidner family. Three bodies. All disemboweled. Not only did police have no motive, they had no idea what could possibly make a demure man snap so hard.

The Heidner house had remained vacant ever since. It fell into disrepair and was eventually condemned, standing as a haunting reminder of that gruesome day. Its once-pristine painted exterior walls were now dirty, chipped, and stained with mold and mildew. Shutters hung askew. Some windows were broken out, while others were barred or boarded.

As Jill Miller stood staring at the dark house, the CLOMP CLOMP CLOMP of Rodney’s boots came up behind her. He took a moment to stare at it, too. And to catch his breath (though he would never admit that). There was something about the abode that just seemed wrong.

“Are you sure about this?” Rodney whispered.

“What’s wong, Wodney? Are you scared?” Jill replied with a pouty lip. “Do you need a diaper change?”

“This box isn’t light, you know. And most of this shit is yours!”

“Oh, boo-hoo. You’re the one who insisted on bringing beer.”

“Just hurry up, will you?”

“I could say the same thing to you. You’re the one who fell behind,” she said.

“Because I’m your damn mule–”

Jill wouldn’t hear of it. She was gone, arriving at the backdoor first. She tried the knob. Locked.

“What the hell?” Rodney gasped. “What idiot locked the damn door?”

“You mean it’s not obvious?” Jill replied. “Cops. They must have been doing one of their stupid welfare checks.”

“Can you pick it?”

Jill snorted with derision. Ye of little faith. She jiggled a credit card in the jam. Seconds later, the lock popped. She turned to her brother and smiled, her black lipstick in striking contrast to her waxy, tarnished teeth. “Dumbass cops.”

She pushed on the warped door. It swung open, wincing on corroded hinges. Their whine echoed like the moan of a dying animal. Jill stepped aside, allowing Rodney to walk through the door first. And to clear out any new cobwebs.

“Damn it!” Rodney gasped.

“What?”

“I walked right into a web,” he said setting the box of booze and supplies down on the first flat surface he found. “You let me go in first on purpose, didn’t you?”

“You know, Rodney, you’re not as dumb as you look sometimes. You know that?”

“Whatever.”

They had been in the Heidner house before. (Who from Gallow Falls High hadn’t?) It was the perfect place for small parties and casual hookups. It was off the beaten path. Inconspicuous. Unbothered. I mean really, the teens reasoned, who’s going to suspect kids are hanging out in some old, abandoned eyesore? Of course, each visit became more daring than the last. Sooner or later, someone was going to notice, right? It’s math. And it wasn’t like they hid evidence of being there. Beer bottles. Cigarette buds. Cushions. 

Candles. It didn’t take Sherlock Holmes to figure out something was up. Still, as far as they knew no one had ever been busted for trespassing.

Despite finding shelter inside the house from the miserable October mist, it somehow felt colder inside the house than outside. Jill looked around the dark hellhole and smirked. “This is going to be perfect. She loves spooky, so let’s scare the shit out of her.”

“You’re sure she doesn’t suspect anything?” Rodney asked.

“Are you for real? This is Autumn we’re talking about. You know she’s needy, clingy, and brainless.”

“I also know she’s crafty.”

Jill handwaved that away. “You give her too much credit.”

“If spooky is what you’re going for, then I’d say there ain’t much decorating needed,” Rodney said looking around the dusty house.

The living room was decorated in gloom. On cloudless days sunlight had a problem cutting through its grimy bay window. Most surfaces were thick with neglect. Dust motes danced like tiny spirits in their pale flashlight beams. Hardwood floors, once polished with a rich reflective sheen, were now dull and warped.

“Where do you want to do this?” Rodney asked of the box.

“Follow me, I’ll show you.”

Steps to the upstairs creaked under Jill’s small frame. Her black attire looked like a costume to most, but to Jill it was a carefully curated wardrobe. Her flowing raven-black dress was short enough to show off her black combat boots. The leather seemed to absorb all light – a stark contrast to her bleached colorless complexion. She wore a black, frilly dress adorned with metallic buckles and a leather choker around her throat, punctuated by small silver spikes and a crescent moon pendant hanging from a long chain.

Jill got to the top of the stairs and pointed to the back bedroom at the far end of the hall. “In there. We’ll do it in there.”

Rodney set the supply box on the floor, which stirred up a cloud of fine dust. The room was dank. Thieves had punched holes in the walls, stripped out all the pipes and wires, and cashed in on the copper long ago. Every room had been gutted by time or vandals, or both. Broken glass and debris crunched under their boots. The smell of staleness and something else – a rotting family of rats in the wall perhaps – permeated the air.

“This room is certainly spooky enough, all right,” Rodney muttered. “This whole place feels like one big tomb.”

“That’s the point,” Jill replied, running her fingers through her hair in an attempt to brush out a cobweb. With every pull the pesky strands seemed to multiply, clinging to her fingers with disturbing persistence. 

“It’s all about atmosphere.”

Jill began clearing a space on the floor, sweeping aside debris and dust – fragments of drywall, dead insects, and what she guessed was the desiccated remains of a mouse. The floorboards beneath were stained with water damage, dark rings and streaks that resembled abstract art... or perhaps something more sinister.

When she was finished clearing the area, she rummaged through the box and began taking out the mismatched candles. Some were tall and white, others were short and dark. All had seen better days. She arranged them in a large circle around the room. Outside winds picked up with increased fury, rattling glass panes and hammering raindrops against the house. Somewhere downstairs, a door slammed shut. Jill and Rodney froze. Listening. Their flashlights pointed at the hall. They looked at each other, their eyes wide. Every creak of the old house could easily be mistaken for footsteps.

"Must just be the wind," Jill said, her voice carrying less conviction than her words.

Her hands trembled as she began lighting candles one by one. Their flames flickered wildly in the drafty room, casting shadows that seemed to dance independently of their flame. Each lit wick added to the circle of undulating light. Their warm glow, placed around a relaxing bath, would be comforting, but, here, in this house, they deepened the macabre aura. The room was beginning to feel like a living, breathing entity pulsing with malevolent life.

“Don’t you think you’re overdoing it just a little?” Rodney asked.

“What’s wrong, afraid the house will burn down?”

“It’s crossed my mind,” he replied but was actually only concerned for his own well being.

Jill shrugged indifferently. “It’s not my house.”

After lighting all the candles, Jill reached into the box and pulled out the star of tonight’s show: her Ouija board. An old Parker Brothers edition. Its edges were worn and its surface smooth. The planchette was heart-shaped and innocent-looking, but, in reality, was a sleeping predator. Jill raised it to her eye and began slowly turning in place, looking through its plastic lens center.

“What’re you doing now?” Rodney asked.

“You’re supposed to be able to see the other side with this thing,” Jill replied. She frowned, disappointed. Not a ghost or ghoul in sight. She reversed the window and tried again, wondering if maybe her planchette was broken. “Personally, I think it’s total crap. I’ve never seen a damn thing with it.”

“No shit it’s total crap, Jill. All this hocus pocus nonsense is total crap.”

“You won’t be saying that after tonight. Just wait. You will be enlightened.”

“I seriously doubt it.”

Jill set the Ouija board in the center of the candle circle, then stepped back and admired her work. The flickering candlelight seemed to make the letters and numbers on the Ouija board shift and dance seductively.

“Perfect,” Jill said, staring hypnotically at the flickering candlelight. Her face was smeared with shadows that made her look grotesquely inhuman.

“Are you sure she’ll show her face tonight?” he asked.

“I know what you’re thinking, but you can relax. Blair’s taking care of it.”

Rodney scowled. Blair? Seriously? She was honest to a fault. Kind of hard to trust someone like that, Rodney figured. Especially when she’s so meek and mild-mannered. It was an act, and he wasn’t buying it.

“Aren’t you afraid Blair will spill the beans?”

“Give me some credit, will you? Do you really think I told sweet, innocent Blair what we’re really doing here?” Jill slapped back.

She stood in the crude candlelight circle, surrounded by darkness and decay. She smiled. The trap was set. 

All she had to do now was wait for her victim to come to her.

* * *

Blair’s Cavalier turned off the a road, her wipers intermittently clearing the drizzling rain from her windshield. She pulled onto a gravely driveway, parked near the house, and waited. And waited. Any day now, Autumn, she sighed. Of course she wasn’t ready, proving once again that the world runs on “Autumn time.” Braving the cold and rain, Blair hustled to the Thorman house, finding shelter from the rain under their covered front porch.

Mr. Cuddles greeted her with a sweet, melodic meow. She stroked the black cat’s dry fur. He arched his back and leaned into her loving massage. After spending a minute scratching him behind his ears, his favorite spot to be pet, Blair knocked on the door.

“Autumn?” a deep voice bellowed. “Your ride is here.”

“Okay. Be down in a minute,” her muffled voice yelled back.

Knowing it would literally be a minute, Blair went back to petting Mr. Cuddles. He purred with appreciation, tender loving care he hadn’t felt in a long time. A minute or so later, Autumn told her father, “Bye, Daddy. I love you.” She closed the door behind her. “You ready?” she asked Blair.

They were talkative on the drive over, joking and laughing when Autumn thanked Blair for picking her up. She admitted to having second thoughts about coming and that she didn’t completely trust Jill’s apology.

“Why would you say that? What happened between you and Jill is all water under the bridge,” Blair replied.

“I don’t know,” Autumn said wondering. “If anyone can hold a grudge, it’s Jill. Did she say anything to you?”

“No, not really.”

That didn’t sit well with Autumn. Jill Miller had a huge mouth. Silence from her mouth seemed like the calm before a storm. That alone hinted to her something was up. Autumn twirled her long hair contemplating what that something could be. She supposed if things were to go down – and she wasn’t convinced it was – but if it were, Autumn was pretty sure she could handle herself. She’s had plenty of practice. She used to trade punches all the time at her previous schools.

“Hey, don’t worry about it,” Blair said snapping Autumn out of her trance. “It’s Friday night. It’s your birthday. It’s time to let your hair down and make drinks go bottoms up.”

“You don’t think Jill’s carrying a grudge?”

“You’re being paranoid. Jill was totally hurt about how things soured between you two. You guys used to be so close.”

“We were. Then all the drama started,” Autumn said.

Autumn missed Jill. Not a lot of people got her. No doubt about it. She knew she rubbed people the wrong way, that she came off a little strong sometimes, and that her boldness can be annoying. She knew that. But she also knew she had to be true to herself. They didn’t know what she’d been through. That’s why it was so nice that Jill understood her plight, and shared in her frustration.

Blair thought Autumn was nice, but she didn’t like the fact Autumn had an opinion about everything – even things she had no reason to have opinions about. One example was when Autumn told Blair to stop being so “uber introverted all the time”. What did she care if Blair was quiet? How was that any business of hers? Was it such a bad thing? Blair didn’t think so. Their classmates saw them as a group of misfits who found each other because they didn’t belong to any other clique, but that’s not how Blair thought of her friends. She preferred to think of them as misfits who belonged together because they belonged together.

“I want to believe Jill is willing to bury the hatchet,” Autumn said. “I really do, but the time feels weird, you know?”

“It is your birthday.”

“Yeah, but we haven’t really spoken in months. Then all of a sudden she wants to meet at the Heidner house?”

“I think that shows effort,” Blair replied.

“Seriously?”

“Yeah. Jill’s putting in a lot of effort to patch things up between you two.”

“Okay... but why not have my birthday party at my house? Or her house? Seems kind of weird to have it in an abandoned house in the middle of nowhere, don’t you think?”

“Everyone knows how much you like all things Halloween. What better place to throw a Halloween-themed birthday party than in a creepy old house?”

“... eh... maybe,” Autumn said unconvinced.

“You don’t sound thrilled about this.”

“I’m scared I’m getting my hopes up for nothing. What if this is all some elaborate hoax to hurt me again? What if this is all a ruse to get back at me?”

Blair turned to face her friend. “Even if Jill had bad intentions – which I seriously doubt she does – I’m going to be right there with you.”

“Okay. But if things get weird–”

“Then we leave, no questions asked,” Blair finished. “But that’s not going to happen. I really think this might be exactly what you and Jill need right now.”

Autumn softened, and for the first time since she’d gotten in the car, she genuinely relaxed a little.

“You’re right. Screw it. It’s Friday. It’s my birthday. And I’m going to get freaking lit.”

* * *

Shadowy figures emerged from the dark woods. Rodney squinted hard. It was like trying to spot a ghost in the fog. Was it the fuzz? Cripes, Jill. You lit so many freaking candles this place could be a damn lighthouse, he thought. Was it the cops? Probably not. They’re more likely to barge in through the front door. Teens were too smart for that. They parked at the apartment complex behind the grove. From there it was a short jaunt through some trees and an overgrown backyard. When police did show up (and they did from time to time), it’s an even shorter jaunt – it’s a footrace!

“She’s here!” Rodney shouted.

Jill looked at her watch and smiled. “She’s desperate.”

Blair went through the door first. Autumn followed behind, but not closely. She hesitated at the threshold, the door reminded her of an open mouth of a great beast ready to devour her. Her heart pounded from nervousness, her palms sweaty. Taking a deep breath, she stepped inside. The air was suffocatingly heavy and still, the house eerily dank.

“Hello?” Blair called out tentatively. “Anyone here?”

“What the hell, man. Where is everyone?” Autumn said.

“They gotta be here, I saw lights coming from the upstairs.”

“Did you bring a flashlight?”

“Just this one.”

“Give me that,” Autumn said, snatching it from Blair’s hand.

They ventured into the belly of the beast. The eerie stillness in the air was an indication that this was either a surprise party or Autumn was right – she was about to get jumped. Neither possibility was particularly appealing. Autumn didn’t want to get jumped. And Blair didn’t like being scared. She never cared much for Halloween or anything associated with it for that matter. Haunted houses, horror movies, blood and guts. Cheap scares – real or simulated – were not her style. Autumn, on the other hand, loved roller coasters, scary movies, and haunted houses. She loved being scared. She loved the thrills it gave her. She loved the adrenaline rushes and dopamine hits it gave her more than anything.

As much as she appreciated cheap thrills, Autumn slipped a housekey between her fingers and balled a fist around it. She wasn’t taking any chances. If this was a ploy to jump her, Jill was going to be in for one hell of a fight. Autumn would punch, slice, stab, and gouge if necessary. Going for the eyes wasn’t beneath her. Permanent blindness would go a long way in reminding Jill that she messed with the wrong person. Come on, Jill, ole buddy, ole pal. Give me a reason. I dare you.

“Jill? Rodney? Come on, guys. This isn’t funny,” Blair called out.

Autumn nudged Blair, then pointed her attention toward the dim glow coming from the upstairs. “Come on. Let’s scare the shit out of them.”

Two werewolves jumped out of the shadows and roared. Blair screamed, a scream that was quickly drowned out by raucous laughter. Upon opening her eyes she found Jill, Rodney, and Autumn sharing in a hardy belly laugh. She may not have appreciated the daylights scared out of her, but Autumn loved it.

“That’s a hell of an icebreaker,” Autumn said.

“Thought you might like that,” Jill replied.

“Where is everyone?” Autumn asked. “Where’s Patrick? Where’s Conner?”

“Have you met them?” Jill joked. “You know they’re going to be late to their own funeral. Besides, what do we need them for? The alcohol’s already here, baby!” she said, handing Autumn a beer. “Happy birthday!”

“I would say you shouldn’t have, but God knows I need this,” Autumn replied.

The drinks came fast and furious. Blair drank more than Autumn, yet, Autumn strangely showed signs of being more inebriated. Blair was tipsy, but Autumn was drunk. Her speech was noticeably slurred and her movements uncoordinated. Jill noticed, too. It was time to make her move.

“Come on, you guys,” Jill said. “Let’s move this party upstairs.”

“What’s upstairs?”

“Something I want to show you. Come on, come on,” she said taking Autumn by the hand. “I think you’re going to like this.” She led her upstairs and pushed the bedroom door open, revealing the source of the dim glow.

Blair was less impressed. She rolled her eyes. “Really, Jill? Again with your stupid Ouija board?”

She understood now why Jill was dressed up like a priestess. It wasn’t necessarily a costume as much as it was a ceremonial gown. As some teens will do out of curiosity, she had recently began dabbling in witchcraft – a hobby Blair hated but found herself participating in for no reason other than going along to get along.

“You’ve seen this before?” Autumn asked Blair.

“Yeah. It’s her new favorite toy.”

“Cool!”

“Not really. It’s actually pretty stupid.”

“Blair, how can you be against something that translates to ‘yes-yes’?” Jill asked.

“Huh? What’re you talking about now?”

“Ouija is two words smashed together. ‘Oui’ is French for yes and ‘ja’ is German for yes.”

“That’s almost interesting, Jill,” Rodney said unable to understand how one person can be so full of useless information.

“Are we going to stand here and talk, or are we actually going to use it?” Autumn said. “Come on. Let’s fire this thing up.”

Jill turned to Rodney. “You want to join us?”

“You know I don’t believe in that nonsense.”

“Oh, come on. It’s harmless fun.”

“I’ll pass, thanks. I’m fine hanging out in the doorway.”

Blair couldn’t get over how friendly Jill and Autumn were being to each other. She was pleasantly surprised. It was hard to believe they spent the better part of two months being petty and splitting alliances of the group. She was glad they could let bygones be bygones, it showed a maturity about them. Perhaps, they both did some growing while apart.

In mere minutes, she would come to realize Jill’s warmth was only a ruse. Her lively energy was about to turn deadly, shrapnel they would all have to deal with for the rest of their lives.