The Others (Part Two)

The Continuation of "The Thing in the Corner" Series

Allison tiptoed quickly through the parking lot, chasing Billy, who she could see was about thirty yards ahead of her.

“Wait, God damn it! Slow down. I have heels, come on!” she pleaded.

Billy stopped and bent over, sucking wind.

“Thanks. Now what I was…” with a glance Billy stopped her short, pointing at the taillights of a large white van that was pulling out of the parking lot.

“Come on. I know where he’s going.” He started to sprint away but she caught him by the arm.

“Hold up. You can’t just run after him,” Allison laughed, then realized, “Wait, you don’t have a car, do you?”

Billy shook his head, more than a little embarrassed.

“Hell, no wonder you can run so fast. Come on, I’ll give you a lift. I want you to tell me everything you know about this,” she declared, “I want to know what happened to your brother…to Sam.”

She drove slowly through the streets. He guided her using his phone’s GPS app.

“I did a little checking up on good old Dr. Fraccin. Seems his wife disappeared a few months ago, right around the same time as Sam went missing,” he clenched his teeth, anger boiling just under the surface. “The cops questioned him….”

“Did they accuse him? Arrest him?” she pressed.

“Well, no, but it’s too much of a coincidence. My brother answers an ad for this guy and he’s never seen again. Disappears off the face of the earth, then wifey, same thing. Nuh-uh. Not buying it. He’s done something to my brother, and probably his poor wife too.”

“Listen, Billy, you could be over-reacting. That Dr. Freakin, whatever his effing name is, he may be an asshole but just because his wife finally wises up and ditches him, that’s nowhere near enough evidence to…”

He sticks a piece of paper in her face. It’s an old computer printout, a page from Craigslist.

She read it aloud, “Assistant Wanted. Researcher seeks academically inclined intern. Good pay.” She waved the paper dismissively, “Yeah, well, this doesn’t prove anything either.”

“The only way to reply was using the Craigslist blind reply. When I tried it, no one responded. They probably pulled that post a long time ago. Make a right up here at Webster.”

She jerked the wheel and he was thrown towards her. At the last minute he put his hand down and it landed square in her lap. He hastily pulled it away, aware that he had touched the nasty spot.

“Oh my God. Sorry about that,” she cried.

“No, I’m sorry, jeez what a jerk I am. My fault completely,” he blurted, hitting himself in the head.

“Dude, I’m the one who jacked the wheel at the last split second, okay. Final word, uh-uhp-uh, don’t talk.” She put a finger to his lips.

He thought they felt and even smelled better than anything he had felt or for that matter, smelled, in a long, long time.

“Wait. Slow down. It’s right there. Stop please.”

They stared at the old Victorian four story grey building, now looking dark and foreboding in the cracking wind and spitting rain.

Allison looked in the rear view mirror and shrieked, “Oh shit, here he comes. We must have beat him home.”

Dr. Fraccin slowed down and stopped the van right next to them.

Billy and Allison sank down in their seats, trying to hide.

The van window slid open.

Fraccin was staring straight ahead, wearing dark glasses in the middle of the night.

Billy and Allison froze in silent shock.

Fraccin turned his head slowly, and there was an audible crack from his neck, and then he was looking right at them. He smiled a tiny, thin-lipped, ugly, brutal smile. It was the smile of an executioner.

Billy could hear Allison’s breathing. Their eyes were locked on the doctor.

Billy cleared his throat, about to speak when Fraccin opened his mouth wide, too wide for a human it seemed and let loose a broken, back-cracking, monstrous roar, “ARRRRRRRRRRGGGGGGGGGGGHHHHHH!”

Allison screamed and Billy involuntarily flinched back and tried hard as hell not to piss his pants.

Fraccin turned back to look at the road, then slammed the remote control strapped to the visor. The van roared into the garage, just missing the rising door by a centimeter or two. They both heard the tires squealing and the brakes crying out as the van slammed to a stop inside the garage. The garage door started coming down again.

Billy jumped from the car before Allison could stop him. He streaked across the driveway and slid under the clanking garage door just a split second before it slammed shut behind him.

Allison gasped, her fingertips inside her gaping mouth. “Oh. My. God.”

to be continued

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NotWiredThatWay profile image

NotWiredThatWay 5 years ago from New York

I hope you post the next part soon. You had me screaming don't go in there dummy! I don't think I'd mess with the doc myself. This is really good. Kudos, Bludstream.

bludstream profile image

bludstream 5 years ago Author

Thanks again, NotWired, check out "The Swamp" also when you get a chance. That is my full length novel that I am posting chapter by chapter.

NotWiredThatWay profile image

NotWiredThatWay 5 years ago from New York

Thank you, Bludstream. I was busy earlier but of course I had to take a quick peak. I love it! Now I get to read about Sam. Is your novel published? I'd love to purchase it. Your style is definitely a page turner.

bludstream profile image

bludstream 5 years ago Author

Thanks NotWired, but no, all of these stories were originally written here for HubPages, but in the next few months I am either going to self-publish them as e-books or try and get the ever-elusive traditional book publishing deal. I write because I love writing, however, not to make money, though it definitely would not hurt to make a buck or two.

NotWiredThatWay profile image

NotWiredThatWay 5 years ago from New York

I write because I enjoy it too, but there is nothing wrong with sharing your talent AND making money. I think if you published, people would put your work in the same category as Dean Koontz.

bludstream profile image

bludstream 5 years ago Author

Wow! That would be so great. I can't even imagine what a guy like that does with all his money. He must be so incredibly rich. But if you read "The Swamp", it is not Sci-fi or Horror, more like action suspense. I always admired the types of authors that did not get labelled or stuck in a genre, like William Goldman (Marathon Man, Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid) or Gregory David Roberts (Shantaram). If you are able to tell great stories it does not matter what the genre is as long as you execute.

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