That Which Was Forgotten
Mike Williams woke in a room that he didn’t recognize with the sun blazing through the window. The pounding headache and dry mouth told him that last night would be a blank from another of his benders. He examined his surroundings with caution. This wasn’t the first time he woke up in a strange room. It wasn’t the worst he’d woken up in. So far.
Mr. Williams got himself dressed and made his way out of this strange room. He exited into a hallway. It was adorned with old photographs, walls aligned with antique desks topped with floral arrangements, and lit by oil lamps. Mike already hated how old this place looked. Why couldn’t he had woken up in something a bit more modern themed? He shrugged and continued on his way.
He approached the main stairwell and made his way down. He was already wanting to leave this place. What was this place anyway? Mike was about to find out; he wouldn’t like the truth. No one does. That’s why people find it so easy to lie. “I love you, I won’t ever leave, I’ll be there at this specific time, you have my heart, the bills were on time, it will all be fine”. We have all heard at least one of these lies before. Most likely from loved ones. And don’t worry if a lie that hurt you wasn’t listed. It doesn’t really matter.
Mike made his away across the black and white, checkered main hall into what he assumed to be the den. A lit fireplace, worn, brown leather chairs, more of those old pictures, and a coffee table fill the small room. Mike is getting irritated. He has yet to encounter a single person. Is he alone?
“Sorry, Mr. Williams,” said a voice, causing Mike to spin around. An elderly man stands by the fireplace. Mike was fairly certain that this room was empty when he first entered it. His eyes were grey, as was his slicked back hair. His suit was perfect, without a single sign of creasing or dirt to be found. “I intended to have some breakfast brought down but some of the guests have arrived early. How are you feeling?” said the man, as he stepped into the foreground.
“Where the hell am I?” Snarled Mike, glaring at the strange man. “I’m not a big fan of waking up in random rooms.”
The stranger held up his hand, cutting off Mike’s next thought. He went on to explain Mike’s situation. “The other night you arrived on our front steps alone and drunk. It was quite pitiful to be honest. We brought you in so you wouldn’t die from the cold. You could say that you owe me your life.”
Mike started to feel a little embarrassed. He knew it wasn’t a pretty sight when he went on a bender. “All I want to know… is where I am.”
The old man approached and gestured to the leather chairs. Mike sat down and the old man followed suit. He reached over to the coffee table between them and procured a bottle of whiskey and two glasses. Mike was slightly impressed at this point. How he missed that bottle was beyond him. Two glasses were poured. The old man stared at Mike, waiting for him to take the first sip. Mike let out a forced smile as he took a sip. Oh how he loved that familiar feeling amongst all the strange an foreign objects around him.
“You are at the Clearwater Lodge in Brevity, Maine. My name is Charles Hill. All the guests and workers call me Mr. Hill. I am the general caretaker of this establishment. During this time our rooms are usually full. But due to the recent storm season growing more tumultuous, many of the guests have decided to go back home. You are one of the remaining few.” Mr. Hill stops for a second to take a sip of his whiskey. “I think you should remain here, Mr. Williams. You are man plagued by his past. The worst demons are those that reside within ourselves. I believe this place can help you. It’s walls have been known to help those who are lost.”
Mike leans over and pours himself another glass. “And if I refuse?”
The old man sighed and ran a lanky hand through his aged hair. “Mr. Williams, we have no clue how you arrived here. There was no vehicle when we found you. Just you, alone. If you call a taxi now it would take it at least three hours to arrive. The roads will be closed due to the storm. Believe me when I say this, Michael.”
The old man leaned in, his eyes ever so glinting from the light of the fire. “Stay here and end your cycle of failure. Confront yourself.”
Mike held eye contact and finished his drink. He could feel a slight buzz coming on. He stood up and made his way to the door. He stopped. “Is there a bar here?”
Mr. Hill smiled. “It’s in the gathering room.”
———
Mike Williams exited the den and was making his way back to the staircase when he saw a group of people at the front desk. Backs were all that faced him. His curiosity left as quickly as it came. He trudged up the old staircase.
“Hi, yes, I’m Sherry Gold. I have a reservation for four rooms?” A middle aged woman tapped her fingers on the desk in front of her while the clerk examined records. Why was it taking so long? These were the only reservations for the weekend, the lack of cars in the parking lot told Sherry that much. She turned to her assistant. “Bethany, you did make reserve the right amount of rooms, right?”
Bethany Clarke looked away from a lone man walking up the stairs by himself. “Yes, Mrs. Gold. Four rooms, two for couples, and two single rooms.”
“Mrs. Sherry Gold of Gold Publishings?” The clerk looked up from her computer.
Sherry sighed. “Yes, are the rooms ready?”
The clerk forced a smile. “Here are your keys. Rooms 213 through 217. No, sorry, 216. Forgive me, ma’am.”
The group of six people made their way back to their rooms. Bethany looks at her key ring. A black label that reads 216 in white writing. She inserts the key into the handle. At first the key doesn’t turn at all. She struggles with it for a moment until it finally clicks and the door swings open. She feels eyes on her and turns her head to her right. Mike is standing in his doorway with a cocked eyebrow and a glass of whiskey in his hand. Bethany looks him up and down, adjusts her bag on her shoulder, and enters her room. Mike goes back into his room.
Sherry throws herself on to the bed. Her husband, Steve Gold, lowers their bags on the other side of the room. “Do you think this idiot will actually own up and come through with a good book?”
“I think he and his trophy wife love making money too much. If he doesn’t do it for himself, he’ll at least do it for her. He has the writing chops. I just can’t believe that shit he turned in last time. Good thing we fired that idiot editor and replaced him with the Jones boy. Speaking of which,” Sherry rolled over, “did you see the looks Rose was giving Leland?”
Steve was busy taking the contents of their bags out and filing them neatly into drawers. “Sherry, everybody noticed it. Erick is an idiot if he didn’t. It was like a lion spotting a gazelle with a broken leg.”
The married couple let out a laugh which could be heard next door. Erick and Rose Allen were drinking wine and examining Erick’s notes on his book. Rose rolled here eyes and took a sip of her wine. “What are those snobs laughing about?”
Erick quickly glanced at her and then immediately back to his notes.”Who the fuck knows or cares? They’re good for one thing. Giving us money and getting my art out there.”
Rose walked over and sat on the table between him and his computer. She pulled her dress up a little, revealing to him that she wasn’t wearing any underwear. Erick stared before meeting her hard stare. “Listen here, Erick. We all know your last book was phoned in and flopped. Horribly. I will make sure you don’t make the same mistake twice.”
Erick stood up and moved between her legs. He swung his arm back and smacked her. Her head snapped back. Silence drowned the room. Rose slowly turned to face Erick. He gently ran his fingers along the red spot forming along her cheek. “Don’t ever talk to me like that again. Ever.”
He moved away from her and went to leave the room, “Dinner is in 20 minutes. Get ready.”
— — —
Mike finally made his way down from his room and to the bar. He was sipping on a drink when the part of six from earlier came in. The first person he noticed was Bethany. He didn’t know her name yet, as of right now she was the-random-girl-who-couldn’t-open-a-door. He watched as they made their way from the dining room and towards the bar. Bethany sat directly across from him on the other side. Leland Jones sat at the corner, Rose next to him, Erick between her and Sherry, and finally Steve.
‘Wonder what these bastards are here for?’ Mike thought to himself as he refilled his drink. He noticed the girl from earlier staring at him.
Sherry pulled a pack of cigarettes out of her purse and drew one from the cardboard and placed it between her lips. The sound of of the flint sparking caught Mike’s attention. He stared as she made multiple attempts to light her cigarette. The failed attempts irritated him. He grabbed his lighter from his jacket pocket and slid it across the bar.
Steve looked up at him as the lighter bumped into his arm. Mike rolled his eyes and pointed at Sherry. “It’s for her.”
“Thanks, man.” Steve handed it Sherry. She finally got her cigarette lit. Mike watched as his lighter got put into her purse.
“Yeah, you’re welcome. Bitch.” He murmured into his glass. He noticed Bethany was staring at him.
Bethany saw the stranger from earlier shoot a look at Sherry and say something under his breath. She knew it couldn’t be something nice yet a small smile crept on to her face. Now it was her turn to notice him staring at her. She made it clear that she was staring back as she sipped on her gin and tonic with three extra limes. She turned her attention to the conversation to her left.
Sherry and Erick were talking details about the deal for his next book. Sherry took a drag on her cigarette. “So. You have a month to get me something. Leland is your new editor. He’s done some good work for some indie authors. I’m sure you’ve heard of Jason Drake from Asher Falls.”
Erick turned his attention to Leland. “Wait. You’re from Asher Falls?”
Leland Jones sighed in annoyance. “Yes. I was there when that teen went missing and those two FBI agents came in and got involved. That’s what Drake’s book was about.”
“That’s quite an accomplishment. Having your name attached to that book, that is.” It was Erick’s turn to light up a cigarette. Rose rolled her eyes and waved away the puff of smoke that came her way. She turned her attention to Leland as Erick and Sherry resumed their conversation.
“So Leland,” her hand found it’s way to his thigh, “rumor has it you’re the guy to go to for a good time?”
Leland smirked. “No, not a good time,” he grabbed her hand and moved it up his thigh, “a great time.”
Rose blushed and left her hand there. “Erick, Leland and I are going to go check out the garden that the clerk told us about.”
“Yeah, yeah, yeah. I’ll be here.” Her husband waved her off without even looking at her. “I have my basic plot lined out for the next book. I’m retconning everything from the second book, I was thinking about scrapping the series and starting something new. But, after an interesting conversation with some college kid, I decided to stick it out and continue Dark Eclipse.”
Sherry rolled her eyes. “I still hate that name. And also, ‘an interesting idea’? Sounds like this kid is gonna be seeing some of their ideas in your next book.”
Erick raised his glass. “Fans are always so willing to please their idols.”
Sherry glanced at Steve. He was completely entranced by the emails on his phone. She turned back to Erick. “15 minutes.”
Erick finished his glass and ordered another as Sherry took off upstairs. Steve remained in his chair. Mr. Allen didn’t know this, but Steve was fully aware of his wife’s affair. Steve accepted the fact that he became a cuck. Nothing more than someone who funded his wife’s company and someone who couldn’t give her the one thing she truly wanted.
Bethany had a few of her gin and tonics in her at this point. She ordered another one before making her way to the stranger she’s had her eyes on. Mike noticed before she was even near him. She walked up and sat down next to him.
Mike sat his drink down on a blank coaster and turned towards Bethany. “I was wondering when you were gonna come over. Mike Williams.” Mike stretched his hand out.
Bethany looked at it before shaking it. “Bethany Clarke. I’m an assistant for a publisher. We’re here to work out some deal with one of their authors.”
“The rude blonde who stole my lighter? Her husband should keep a close eye on her.” Mike finished off his whiskey. Smooth, yet a slight burn that he loved. Sent shivers down your spine.
“Actually, he knows about it. He’s accepted it. I’m not sure why he’s still with her. How did you know?’
Mike took a sip of his whiskey. Two sips actually. “It takes a shitty person to spot another shitty person.”
Bethany was taken aback by how blunt he was. “What brings you to the Clearwater Lodge?”
“To be completely honest, no idea. Apparently I went on a bender and woke up on the front steps.” Mike noticed she was staring at him. He was used to those looks. Those judging looks, he hated it. Then she cut in, “Let’s fucking drink.”
She poured herself some whiskey and topped off his glass. “Salud.”
Mike smiled because he had just met his match. He examined her closely. He could see it in her eyes. He had the same look. Such a low opinion of yourself, judge everything you do, and just absolute disdain for ones self.
— — —
Leland and Rose were drunkenly walking along the path towards the garden. The midnight moon illuminated all that surrounded them. The hedges that surrounded them hid their actions from any possible prying eyes. After taking a few breaks to embrace each other, they finally arrived at the center of the garden. An assortment of flowers surrounded a smooth, cold bench made of marble. Roses, daisies, wildflowers, orchids, the list could go on.
The two moonlit lovers found themselves on the marble bench. Their lips interlocked, hands moved from neck to hair and back again. It was only them.
— — —
Erick swung open the door to the Gold’s room. Sherry was already on the bed, waiting for him. The room was lit by only a single oil lamp. The light of the flame danced alongside her pale, powdered skin. It’s rhythm seducing Erick. He removed his clothes as he approached her. She sat up and looked into his eyes. All that stared back was lust. Their whole affair was based off of lust. For years she thought she wanted to be a wife and a mother. Life isn’t always as streamlined as some people think. She never told Steve about her feelings on this. Sherry had gotten pregnant once and Steve was thrilled. She, however, was not.
A few weeks after discovering she was pregnant, Sherry had a miscarriage. Steve was distraught and she was there for him. But she was finally able to admit to herself what she had been hiding from herself. Her true feelings. She couldn’t bear the idea of hurting her husband. She loved him, to an extent. Almost how a child loves a puppy they found on the street.
She gave into her lust as she felt Erick’s body touch hers. She was his for this time.
— — —
Steve Gold was still involved with his phone. He finally gave up and decided to go distract himself by other means. He grabbed a bottle of vodka and moved from the bar to the den. Leaving Bethany and Mike to themselves.
Bethany watched as he left. “Thank god, he was bumming me out so hard. I know he’s my bosses husband but c’mon. What a sap.”
Mike laughed. “Wow, for someone who can be so quiet, you’re kind of a bitch.”
Bethany leaned in. “And you like it, right?”
Mike smirked and downed his drink. He definitely liked it. She was his type and they both knew it. They found themselves entwined at the end of the bar.
— — —
Rose shoved Leland against the marble bench. She ran her hands down his chest and paused at his belt buckle. She looked up to see him staring and licking his lips. With a flick of her fingers his belt was undone and she was pulling his pants down. She smiled when her hand found his dick; this was one of her favorite parts. She slowly put her mouth around him and made him hers. This kid was putty in her hands. Any guy would be just because of her looks and charm alone.
Leland closed his eyes for a moment. When he opened them again she was inches from his face. Their lips brushed as she slide down on him. The smallest gasp escaped her lips as he entered her, her warm breath arousing against his ear. They started off soft and sensual, but that wasn’t Leland’s style. He became aggressive. His hands gripped her blouse and ripped it open. Buttons flying like shrapnel.
Next, he wrapped his hand around her throat and used that to control her speed. His mind flashed to each time he ever had a woman at his fingers. Always the same, he thought, they want it so bad. Not much is known about Leland Jones, but this much was known: he was a horrible person.
A gust of wind blew through the garden. Rose threw herself back as she felt an orgasmic wave wash over her body. It was as if the air around her warmed up to a mid summers heat. Leland was too focused on himself to notice the change in her. She became more primal. She had one goal. And she was about to meet this goal.
As Leland moved his hips as underneath her, Rose slipped her hand under the bench on which they were copulating. She slowly slid her hand back out from underneath the bench, her hands gripped a pair of garden shears. Leland’s hands were exploring her bosom, poor guy had no idea what was about to happen. All he knew was that he was about to finish.
Rose threw her hand over her head, the moonlight reflecting off the blades of the shears. Her eyes rolled to the back of her skull and she let out a moan. And with a swift movement, she brought those garden shears down and into Leland Jones’ chest.
Blood sprayed all over Rose’s exposed body. A scream escaped Leland’s mouth. It couldn’t come out fast enough before she removed the shears from his chest and brought it down again.
“You bitch!” These words, which would be his last, had no effect on his fate.
Rose repeatedly tore through his body with her shears. Again and again, she would be covered in blood. Her poor victim was dead before the fifth stab. It didn’t matter. Rose Allen’s lust had turned into bloodlust. The moon was visible in a puddle of blood that had formed around the bench.
— — —
Mike and Bethany stumbled into the main hallway, laughing and hiccuping, holding each other up. They were a mess. Bethany grabbed Mike by the hand and led him towards her room. They stopped at her door and kissed. And then kissed a few more times.
“So are you coming inside?” Bethany had opened her door behind her back. Mike looked in her room then into her eyes. The same eyes he saw in the mirror.
“Let’s do that tomorrow. I don’t think I’ll be of much use tonight.”
Bethany was obviously let down by this. But she knew Mike was right. They embraced one last time before saying goodnight. Mike watched as she closed the door. He couldn’t help but smile. He didn’t know why, It definitely wasn’t love. Probably just excitement of having someone to drink with and make love to. All he wanted and needed at this moment.
Mike stumbled to his door. He failed twice at getting the door unlocked. A noise made Mike drop his keys. He snapped his head from left to right. Nothing looked out of the norm. He shrugged and bent over to pick up his keys. He shook his head at his stupidity.
This time, he clearly heard it. Faint crying reached his ears. But it wasn’t an adult crying, it was more like an infants wail at being left unattended. Mike turned to his left, the direction of the cries.
As if in a trance, Mike put one foot in front of the other and eventually found himself at the foot of a staircase that he had not noticed before. He slowly ascended the steps. The lodge was only four stories tall, yet Mike was pretty sure that he just passed the fourth floor landing. The crying grew louder as he climbed the stairs. After a few moments, Mike Williams was spit out on to a fifth floor landing. A long stretch of hallway was laid out before him, and this floor was vastly different from the other four floors.
The walls, floor, and ceiling were a bland white. An obsidian rug stretched from one end to the other. While the other floors had only eight rooms, this one had one, single door. A pitch-black door stared at him from the other end. Pictures adorned the walls. There wasn’t really anything special about these pictures. Black and white pictures of the front gates, the botanical garden, the staircase in the main hall, and a single tree in a field. Mike wasn’t sure why, but these pictures made him uncomfortable. Uneasy.
The crying snapped Mike out of his stupor. His head rotated towards that door. On their own, his feet moved towards the other end of the hall. One step after another, they guided him. They stopped. He was at the door. Eyes glued to the handle. This time, he was in control. He stretched his hand towards the handle. Even the handle was black. It didn’t register in his mind, but the knob was lacking a keyhole. His arm remained outstretched. The crying returned. And this time it was louder than before. It was pounding in his ears. It grew louder and louder with each passing moment. Oh, how he wish it would stop. His hand grasped at the door’s handle.
Silence. With the exception of Mike’s heavy breathing, it was completely quiet. Mike turned the handle. Click. He slowly pulled the door open.
The room was completely empty. It was the same white color of the hallway leading up to it. Mike cautiously stepped into the room. He didn’t know why, but he felt compelled to enter. His curiosity had the best of him. He stood in the doorway for a few moments, examining the room. There wasn’t really anything to examine. Well, nothing at all. The room was completely empty. No chairs, desks, beds, or even a light to illuminate the room. Mike stepped further inside to see what was lighting the room. There was nothing.
SLAM. The door slammed shut behind Mike as he was out of the doors radius. He rolled his eyes and turned back to the door. Mike placed his hand on the door. And there it was again. The crying. And this time, it was right behind him. Mike slowly turned around. Not knowing what to expect.
There, in the middle of the room, was a baby. The baby was staring at Mike, tears streaming down it’s face. Mike took one step toward the baby. The crying stopped and was replaced with a gurgling sound. Blood seemingly began to pour through nowhere. It began filling the room. From the corners of the ceiling, the edges where the walls met the floor, and dripping from the ceiling. Mike looked back at the baby.
The child was covered in blood. Just staring at him. Mike felt a knot in his chest. The blood was now above his ankles. His hands drenched from it dripping from the ceiling. Mike was done, he had enough of this. Was it real? Fake? He didn’t care. All he wanted to do was leave this place. He turned around and started twisting the door knob. No use. It was locked. The room didn’t want Mike Williams to leave. It wanted him to look at what was before him. Memories filled Mike’s head. He shook them off. That’s not what this was about. Mike must be hallucinating. He began throwing his body against the door. So many times that his shoulder began to ache. He turned around and saw the baby still staring at him. He was frozen. Why couldn’t he leave? The blood was steadily rising; well past his ankles now. With one last attempt, he threw his body against the door.
The door flung open and he fell to the floor. He hurriedly crawled away as the blood came rushing towards him. Mike looked behind him as he crawled away. The blood was now gone. And so was that baby. The door swung back and its slam echoed through the hallway. Mike stood and examined his body. Not a drop of blood remained. He slowly looked up and stared at the door.
— — —
Erick and Sherry were now clothed. They were getting ready to end their night after hours of embracing each others bodies. Erick was the first to leave the room, he always was. Sherry followed, only a few steps behind them. She turned over her shoulder as she saw the stranger from the bar entering his room. She felt uncomfortable by his look. He had such sad eyes and looked like he had just witnessed something he wish he hadn’t. Little did she know, that was completely true. They arrived at the first floor landing when a scream ripped through their ears.
The front doors flew open and Rose Allen came through. Erick and Sherry stopped. Rose was half naked and covered in blood. Steve came from a door to the side that led to the den. He rushed to the woman as she sank to her knees. She was sobbing uncontrollably. Erick and Sherry rushed down the stairs.
“Rose! ROSE! What happened?” Erick slide to his knees as he got closer to his wife. He may be unfaithful, but at times he cared for her.
Rose could barely get through a sentence. “Le-Leland. I-I don’t know… what happ-happened. We were walking in the ga-garden and next thing I knew, I was covered in blood and he… he…”
She trailed off and began to stare at a light across the way. Steve leaned in close to her. “What happened to Leland?”
Tears fell from Rose Allen’s face. “…he’s dead.”
“What did she just say?’ The group turned around to see Bethany standing right behind them. She must have came up as Rose was in hysterics.
“Beth… I-I’m so sorry…” Sherry was standing with her hands to her mouth. “Who could’ve done such a thing?”
No one had the slightest idea. Except for Rose. When she awoke from her unconsciousness, she discovered a pair of blood soaked garden shears in her hands. She decided to leave that part out. She’d let them think that she got too drunk and passed out before Leland met his demise.
Steve stood up. “We should call the cops.”
Erick finally spoke up. “What do you think I’ve been trying to do?”
Erick handed Steve his cell phone. No service. Steve swore under his breath. “What’s the point of these fucking phones if they don’t even work half the time?”
Sherry ran over to the empty front desk. “Maybe the landlines have service?”
She picked up the phone and was about to dial when she heard the dead line. She tried dialing anyway. No use. She turned around to face everyone and shook her head.
What were they gonna do? They hadn’t seen any of the Lodge’s workers since their dinner, they had arrived in taxis, and now there was no way to call for help. They were completely and utterly alone. And no one was coming to help them.
Bethany was wondering the Lodge, thinking of Leland. They may not have been close, but they were still family. Cousins by marriage, knew each other since grade school. And now he was dead. She had no idea how her family would take it. Her mind wondered. She was letting her feet guide her. She found herself climbing a set of stairs and getting closer to the top. Bethany frowned as she made it to the fifth floor landing. She was pretty sure the Clearwater was only four stories tall. Was this a new addition?
She turned to go back down the stairs but walked into a wall. She recoiled from her nose making first contact with it. She held back tears but still felt her eyes watering. Bethany placed her hands on the wall, checking if she was just imagining things. But no, she was not. There was definitely a wall where the stairs should have been. She turned around and her eyes fell on a black door. The only door on this floor. Bethany Clarke was a curious person by nature. Always had been since she was a child. So of course, she was forced by her very nature as a human being to go open that door.
Bethany arrived at the door and immediately wrapped her fingers around the door knob. Her anxiety began to kick in. Overflowing and making her feel like she would burst at the seams.Without even giving it a second thought, she turned the knob snd opened the door. She felt a little let down by seeing just a boring, white room. She stepped inside without closing the door behind her.
She had a feeling that she was supposed to be here, but at the same time, as if she wasn’t. That made her nervous. She always liked breaking the rules, that’s who she was. But this was different. She turned around as the door slowly swung shut. Must be a draft, she told herself. Bethany approached the door and began to reach out for the handle.
“Bethaany.” A ghastly voice whispered behind her.
Bethany slowly turned around, wondering who said her name. She came face to face with herself. Well, sort of. Blood dripping from her wrists, seeping from large open wounds that ran vertically up her forearm. The creature spoke again.
“Bethany, why do you want to kill us?”
The creature stepped towards Bethany, repeating the same question, over and over again. Bethany took a few steps back until her back was against the wall. “What do you mean ‘Us’?”
The creature stopped and stared on at Bethany, though it felt as if it was looking through her. “Us.”
Blood began filling up the room at a fast pace, it was above Bethany’s knees in moments. Hands began reaching up towards. She tried screaming but her body wouldn’t let her. The shock was too much. The hands began to grew bodies. Rising up, many more of the same creature rose up covered in blood. Bethany’s eyes grew wide with a sense of increasing dread.
They all looked exactly like her, minus a few details. Rope marks around necks, bleeding track marks on arms, open wrist wounds (both vertical and horizontal), and some that looked completely fine. Each signifying a time in her life when she reached such a low point in her life. Her eyes rolled to the back of her head and she fell to the floor, right into the pool of blood still growing. Splash.
— — —
The Gold’s and the Allen’s all sat in the den around a fire. Snowed in, no communication with the outside, and left with a feeling of helplessness and dread. Rose had gotten to take a bath, Steve was sipping on whatever he managed to find at the bar, Erick and Sherry were with both with their martial counterparts, but their eyes were on each other. They couldn’t explain it, but their lust was back and stronger than before. Between the two, it felt like the only thing that would keep them intact. A slight, warm breeze came through the room. Only Steve noticed it.
“Stop staring at each other.” Steve broke the silence. He got up and away from his wife. He stared into the fire place. Shadows dancing under his eyes. “If you two want to be alone, just go.”
Sherry slowly stood up. “Steve, what are you talking about?”
Still staring into the fire, Steve shot back. “Stop lying to everyone. We all know you two are screwing.”
Rose looked between the three. “Well it’s true. Everyone has known. You’re not the best at hiding an affair.”
“Shut. The hell. UP.” Erick was staring down his nose at Rose, eyes full of spite. “I’m sure you’ve had your fair share of lovers behind my back.”
Rose rolled her eyes. “Hypocrite.”
Sherry finally spoke up. “Enough. This is not the time. Tensions are high, Leland is dead, and we’re all alone.”
It was a valid point. Each and every one of them knew it. They were alone. Completely and utterly alone.
— — —
Mike was laying in his bed. Eyes glued to the ceiling. The events of that room replaying over and over in his head. The infant, the blood, the intense feeling of fear. His mind kept going back to that baby. Causing his mind to wander.