Secret Santa gift for JeanieBlakes! Lucien and Jean investigate the supernatural.
One December day, a little boy living on the edge of Ballarat went missing. Children wander away from time to time, so this didn't strike anyone as unusual at first. But, the boy's parents looked for him in vain, and so did the Ballarat police force. The only clue they had was the boy's sister, who had been with him at the time. According to her, he had simply vanished. Stepped forward into the woods, and was gone.
And while most people didn't believe the little girl (they assumed the boy had been kidnapped, had fallen into an old well, or had simply gotten lost) some people, mostly older people who had lived in Ballarat for most of their lives, whispered about what had happened and wondered if the little girl was telling the truth.
And then, exactly one year to the day that he had disappeared, the little boy returned. And oddly, he didn't look a day older. He hadn't grown in the last year, and still had a cut on his knee that he had gotten on the morning of his disappearance. When questioned about his whereabouts, the little boy could only say that he had been with the wood people, and he was astonished to learn that he had been gone a year; according to him, he had only been gone an afternoon.
The boy was questioned extensively, by his parents, the police, the family doctor, and to all he told the same story; he had spent an afternoon with the wood people.
After a few weeks, people began to forget about the boy and his story, and life resumed for the family and the people of Ballarat. But then, another little boy went missing from the same place in the woods.
Lucien Blake was patching up a suspect in the cells at the Ballarat police station, when a pair of hysterical parents burst through the doors yelling for Superintendent Lawson. Their son, 8-year-old Timmy, hadn't come home from school. According to his best friend, the boys had decided to go see the place where their schoolmate had claimed to have spent an afternoon with the wood people. Timmy had stepped forward ahead of his friend into the trees, and vanished.
Upon seeing this, the friend had turned and run for home. The missing boy's parents had already gone to the woods when Timmy didn't arrive home, having already called his friend's home and discovered that they had been to the spot of their school friend's disappearance when Timmy had vanished as well. There was no trace, and following so hard on the heels of the last little boy's disappearance and return, they were frantic.
Lucien had finished with the suspect, popped his head around the door to the bullpen to say goodbye to Matthew Lawson before he left, and heard the tail end of the parents' story. And while he was a man of science, and certainly didn't believe in these "wood people", he was interested in the coincidence of another little boy disappearing from the same spot as the first. He stepped forward to try to find out more, but Lawson waved him off; the last thing he needed, Lawson felt, was Blake sticking his foot in his mouth around a pair of hysterical parents.
Still, Lucien couldn't stop thinking about it as he drove home, and when he sat at the kitchen table with a cup of tea, he found himself gazing out the window, wondering more about that coincidence and what had really happened to the little boy that had returned after a year.
"Lucien! You're a million miles away," Jean observed as she realized that he hadn't heard a word she had said about the upcoming flower show she was entering. She looked at him with some concern; he also hadn't touched the biscuits she'd set in front of him either. And if there was one thing she had come to know in her years living with him, it was that Lucien Blake never passed up a biscuit.
"What? Oh, I am sorry, Jean. You know another child has gone missing, a little boy, from the same place that the young Thompson boy disappeared from a year ago. I didn't catch the whole thing, but it seems as though the story is the same. Two children wander into the woods, one steps forward ahead of the other and simply disappears from sight. I was wondering what on earth could cause the illusion," Lucien explained, finally reaching for a biscuit and dunking it in his tea before stuffing the entire thing in his mouth at once.
"Another one?" Jean frowned. She'd had an uneasy feeling about the first boy's disappearance when it had occurred, and that feeling had only deepened upon his return. Something to do with a story her grandmother had once told her. She couldn't remember the details, but she was sure that in the story somewhere was a place where time moved differently, where what felt like an afternoon actually stretched into a year outside of this realm.
She resolved to go looking for her grandmother's journals once they had finished tea; maybe there was a clue in there somewhere that could help. Heaven only knew that when Lucien Blake got that look on his face that he wasn't going to let this mystery drop. So, if only to restore peace to the household once more, she felt that the least she could do was help.
"Yes," Lucien rumbled, beginning to look distracted again. "Of course, the friend of the boy who just went missing could be exaggerating based on stories he's heard about his schoolmate. Somehow, though, I don't think so. I mean, no one ever did discover what happened to the Thompson boy, so it is entirely plausible that the same thing has happened again. Whatever that thing is," he finished, beginning to gaze out the window again.
"Right," said Jean, determining to go look through those journals right away. "I'll leave you to think it through then, shall I?" she asked, standing and moving toward the closet in their bedroom. The more she thought about it, the more she was sure that these stories lined up with her grandmother's stories of that place she'd once lived – Avalon.
Excerpt from Jeannine Randall's journal
I once thought I would be lucky enough to live my entire life on Avalon. But as the veil between the worlds grows thicker, those of us who remain must only be the strongest, the most adept at what we do here. And I, unfortunately, am not among those who can help with those tasks. So, I must return to the world I was born in.
I will, however, still be using the skills that I learned here in Avalon once I return. I've been told that on the edges of Ballarat lies a similar veil, one that separates that world from the one of the wood people. Many years ago, a demon was sealed there, where it sleeps, protected by the wood people's magic. Someone is required to watch over that veil, and to make sure it does not begin to thin, as the call of the outside world may wake the demon. That will be my job once I return.
Jean shut her grandmother's journals and leaned back in her chair. She stared out the window for a few minutes, barely even seeing the world outside, she was so taken with what she had just read.
This story was incredible! A portal to another world? In Ballarat?! A demon imprisoned inside of it? And yet, how else to account for those missing children.
Although, more worryingly was the fact that if this portal was indeed open, then didn't that mean that the demon could…escape?
This was nonsense. It had to be. Her grandmother was clearly a gifted story teller, and those kids had probably been drugged and locked in someone's basement.
Jean tidied away the journals and decided not to say anything about them to Lucien. Until, that is, the next day, when the killings began.
Lucien and Alice had never seen anything like them on their table at the morgue. The bodies weren't just stabbed, they'd been completely mutilated – shredded by some very sharp object or objects.
"Look here," Alice said to Lucien as she bent over the body, "These marks were all made at the same time." She indicated a row of five, deep cuts that moved from the right shoulder down to the left hip.
"And here," she indicated another set of similar wounds.
"Those are only the most shallow," replied Lucien, examining one of the limbs, which had been flayed down to the bone. "This is the third body we've seen today with these marks. What on earth could be causing them?"
"Whatever it is," returned Alice, "The victims were still alive when the majority of the marks were made. Cause of death is extreme exsanguination of blood from all the major vessels and organs. Whoever did this wanted to kill these people in the most brutal way possible."
"Yes. And, the killings seem so random – a young man, an elderly woman, and a middle-aged lawyer. There's no pattern between them, other than the marks and extreme brutality. Well. I certainly have no idea what to tell Lawson about all of this. Other than the fact that there is clearly some maniac on the loose in Ballarat right now."
"A maniac? That's all you have for me? Bloody hell, Blake, of course this was the work of a maniac!" Matthew Lawson had had a hell of a day, beginning with a call at 3am when the first body was found and ending with hysterical members of the community and press banging on the police station door and demanding to do know what he was doing to keep the rest of Ballarat safe. The last thing he needed right then, was Blake's pontificating on the subject.
"Well," said Lucien, a bit stung, "Obviously, there's more to it than that. But let me tell you, Matthew, whoever did this was absolutely savage. They wanted the victims to suffer, and they worked fast and indiscriminately. No part of the body was left untouched in all three victims."
"Toxicology?"
"Nothing. These victims were all alive and conscious when struck. The only thing we've been able to work out, is that they were killed right where we found them. And, as I'm sure you'll remember, all three were found alone and in isolated areas."
"Right. So, we're looking for a maniac who seeks out people alone and in areas where he won't be disturbed. Christ. This is a nightmare."
Jean was waiting for Lucien when he returned home from the police station. She'd been going back and forth all day about whether or not to tell him about her grandmother's journals. While last night she had decided not to, these killings matched perfectly the description of the demon's work as her grandmother described it. Combined with the area where the children had disappeared, and the first boy's description of the place he had been… well. She wasn't sure she had much choice about telling him anymore.
She was seated at the kitchen table, a cup of tea going cold in front of her when she heard the front door open, and a loud, "Jean!" being called as Lucien stepped indoors. She smiled slightly in spite of herself; his need for reassurance that she was still there was equally never ending and endearing.
"In the kitchen," she called back, getting up to make him a cup of tea. He caught her at the counter and spun her around playfully to give her a kiss. She laughed and kissed him back before shoeing him away toward the table, mentally preparing herself for what she had to tell him.
Meanwhile, Lucien began filling her in on the state of things down at the morgue. His descriptions of the victims were horrifying, and he was already looking toward the refrigerator, clearly planning on desecrating that night's dinner in an attempt to recreate the marks.
Jean waited for him to wind down, setting a cup of tea in front of him and taking a seat herself before she began to fill him in on what she had read, and what she believed may be happening.
"Lucien," she began nervously, "About those murders that you've just been telling me about. The ones with the gashes all over them."
"Yes," he replied. He looked concerned as he watched her; it wasn't like Jean to be this nervous.
"And you know about the boys' disappearances," she continued, her eyes darting around the kitchen, not daring to land on him; the more she thought of it, the crazier this theory sounded, even to herself.
"Yes?"
"I think they're connected. And – you're going to think that I'm crazy – I think that maybe there is something else going on here. Something…. Demonic."
There was a long pause while they stared at one another, Jean slightly definitely now that she had finally gotten the words out, and Lucien slightly baffled as he tried to make sense of what she was saying.
"Demonic?" he finally asked. "Whatever do you mean?"
"It's. It's a long story, but I read through my grandmother's old journals – here," she handed him the relevant journal open to the page she had been studying earlier, "And I really think that what's going on now is somehow related to what she's written about here."
Lucien quickly scanned the passage, his eyebrows rising skeptically up his forehead as he did so.
"Jeannie…" he began, clearly thinking that she had taken leave of her senses.
"No! I have more!" Jean put in quickly, reading the expression on his face, "I'm not the only one who thinks so; I've overheard a lot of whispers lately, since the first boy returned, from some of the older residents in town. It seems that this veil, or whatever it is, is fairly well known amongst the oldest people here in Ballarat. I've been hearing things like, "It's happening again," and "I wonder who opened it this time" all over town. They have to be related."
Lucien was silent for a moment, clearly wondering if he should humor her, believe her, or check her for a fever.
"Let's assume for a moment that you're right," he finally said. "If this is true, and there is indeed another world, as well as a demon that's somehow escaped into ours, how on earth do we stop it and, and well, put it back?"
"Well, as to that, I have absolutely no idea," Jean replied, relieved that he was taking her seriously for at least the time being. "But I think we ought to start by talking to some of the older residents. See what they know; maybe they can help shed some light on the whole thing."
"Right. Who do we start with, then?"
"I think, maybe, I should take this on. Please don't take this the wrong way, but I can see that you still don't quite believe me, and you know as well as I do that you can be a bit off putting on the best of days," Jean began.
Lucien laughed. "You may be right."
"I'll start with a few of the older ladies I overhead in the library the other day and go from there. Hopefully they'll want to talk, and I can get some answers soon."
"Right. And in the meantime, I'm going to go back to the sites where each of the three people was killed. See if I can't find any clues – supernatural or not – that can help shed some light on things for us."
"So, you see, Mrs. Mahoney," Jean was saying as she pushed around a piece of very dry, unappetizing cake on her plate, "I thought you might be able to tell us more about, well, these events that have been happening. They seem related, and you seem to know something about them."
Mrs. Mahoney gave Jean a very coy look for a moment before pointing to the cake, "Eat that dear, you're far too thin. Well. I was only a very little girl the last time this happened, of course, so I don't know how much I can really tell you.
Only that there is some kind of portal to another world in those woods, and if someone opens it, well people can go in and things can come out."
"Yes, we've worked that much out for ourselves," said Jean, trying not to choke on the cake.
"You know who you should speak to," Mrs. Mahoney said thoughtfully, "Is Ida – Mrs. Reynolds. She was saying just the other day that it felt exactly the same as the first time – she must remember things a bit better than I do."
"Thank you so much, Mrs. Mahoney," Jean said gratefully, quickly hiding what was left of the cake under her napkin and standing to go. "You've been very helpful."
"I wondered if someone was going to connect the dots and figure out that it was happening all over again," Mrs. Reynolds spoke quietly as she poured herself and Jean a cup of tea.
"I was only a teenager at the time, but I remember your grandmother, dear, explaining to us all what was going on and what we needed to do."
"My grandmother? Really?" asked Jean, surprised. While she had found the first clues in her grandmother's journals, to actually hear someone say the words that she was connected was still somewhat startling!
"Oh, yes! She was quite a bit older than me, of course, but she was so calm about the whole thing. It seems some silly boy had found a book in the Ballarat historical society filled with information about this other world and the beast inside it. He'd read some passage out loud late at night and opened the thing.
It was a nightmare, children going missing, people being slaughtered – we were all scared to leave our homes! No one wanted to believe your grandmother at first, of course, but then some people saw it – the demon that is. Terrifying, and, well, after that we were only too ready to do whatever she said!
When that first little boy first went missing last year, and then again when he returned… well. I just knew that the same thing was happening all over again!"
"Yes, quite," said Jean, feeling a little alarmed at having her theory confirmed so neatly. So, there WAS another world, as well as a demon who had escaped it! "But, Mrs. Reynolds, what do we do now? I mean, assuming that someone has opened the way into this other world again, how do we close it? And more importantly, how do we put the demon back?"
"Well, you must understand, dear, this was a very long time ago. And my memory is not what it once was. But as I recall, only the person who opened the door can close it again, and to imprison the beast, you need to entice it back through the door. Give it some bait, so to speak. I believe last time, your grandmother used herself."
"What?!" Jean was astonished. "But clearly, she returned again, I mean, she didn't just go through the door, wait for the demon and never return!"
"Yes, yes, of course she returned. She merely waited until the demon entered, then when it was distracted by something – I don't quite remember what – she slipped back through, then gave the signal to the boy to close the door again. It was all very exciting. The rest of us where there to help keep the boy from losing his nerve, and also to keep us all safe; the demon only strikes people who are alone, you know. Safety in numbers; with the whole town gathered nearby, and your grandmother alone just inside the portal, well. The demon simply followed her right in!"
Jean's head was spinning. Then she remembered that Lucien had gone off alone to look at the sites where the people had been killed. She gasped, jumping to her feet, "Thank you, Mrs. Reynolds, but I'm afraid I must be going!"
Jean burst through the doors of the Ballarat police station in a frenzy. She raced toward Matthew Lawson, coming to a skidding halt at his desk, "Lucien!" she gasped out, "He went to look at the sites of the three victims, I need to know where they are, or if he's checked in at all, and I need someone to go visit them quickly to find him!"
Matthew was momentarily lost for words, seeing the normally unflappable Jean Blake in panting disarray. "Haven't heard from him," he finally managed before turning to Bill Hobart, "What are the addresses of the sites the victims were found at?" he asked.
He turned back to Jean, "Dare I ask what the problem is?"
Jean opened her mouth, closed it again, opened it, then finally said, "It will take too long to explain, and you probably won't believe me either. Just trust me, Matthew – no one can be alone right now – no one! And Lucien is out there somewhere – alone – in what is likely an isolated area. I need to find him – you need to find him!" She was becoming a little hysterical, but she was pleased to see that Matthew was at least taking her seriously.
"Right. Hobart, take a car and head to one of the sites. If Blake's there, stay with him or get him to leave with you. Robarts! You head to one of the others. Jean, you come with me and we'll go to the third."
Lucien was bent over, examining the soil where the second victim had been laying when he heard the sound again. A crinkling, rushing sound that seemed both very close and far off at the same time. For the third time, he straightened to listen better, and for the third time, the sound seemed to disappear.
He shrugged and went back to looking at the soil. What on earth had caused all the vegetation in this one small area to simply burn up like this? It didn't look like fire… There was that sound again.
"Hello?" he called out, looking around. Was there someone behind that tree? He wondered, moving in that direction.
"Is anyone there? My name is Dr. Lucien Blake, I'm with the police," he called out, hoping to flush out whomever was in those woods; he was certain now that he wasn't alone out there.
Still no response, and the sound was now coming from behind him, so he shrugged and went back to the soil. He decided to take a sample with him back to his surgery. Maybe he could run a few tests…
He had bent down to scoop up some soil when all hell seemed to break loose. First, the rushing sound grew much louder as the sky above him darkened, and he felt a sharp pain in his back. Just as he began to cry out and drop to his stomach on the ground, a police car came skidding into the area and Jean leapt from the car before it had even stopped.
The sky lightened up again as quickly as it had darkened, and the rushing sound stopped. His back, however, felt as thought it had been shredded and Jean was shouting for Matthew to hurry and get Lucien's bag from his car. Matthew, meanwhile, was standing stock still with his mouth open.
"What in blazes WAS that thing?!" he finally managed, still staring at Lucien and Jean.
"I'll explain later," Jean told him firmly, "Right now, I need you to get Lucien's bag; he's bleeding badly!"
At that, Lucien could feel the pain in his back intensify. He reached a hand back toward it and felt where his skin had been ripped apart in several, neat gashes. "Bloody hell!" he said, trying to sit up.
Jean stopped him, and said, "Just a minute, lay still and let me stop the bleeding."
"What on earth was that thing, and why don't you seem surprised?" Lucien asked, turning from Jean's determined face to Matthew's shocked one.
"It was the demon," Jean said matter of factly.
"The what?!" answered Matthew, astonished.
"So, it is a demon, then," returned Lucien, "We've definitely established that?"
"Yes, Mrs. Mahoney and Mrs. Reynolds confirmed it for me. I'll fill you in once we get home. There, that ought to do it until we can get back to the house, but you may need stitches. Do you think Alice could do it or should we take you to the hospital?"
"Alice, please," Lucien replied, shuddering at the thought of having to go into hospital as a patient and explaining to whomever it was that stitched him up that he had just been attacked by a demon of all things.
"Yes," said Alice in a clinical tone as she cleaned and stitched the gashes on Lucien's back, "These are definitely the same marks that we saw on the previous victims."
"Alice, your bedside manner needs some work," returned Lucien, "Ow!" he winced as she stuck him unnecessarily hard with the next local. He was laying on the table in his surgery, wondering how his day had taken such a turn.
"And you say it was a demon," continued Alice as if he had never spoken.
"That's right. Can't say I completely believed it either until it was busy preparing me to be its next meal. Bloody hell, Alice, what are you doing back there?" Alice had begun to prod at the cuts, measuring depth and noting the amount of damage.
"Where do you keep the whiskey, Blake," asked Lawson. He had been sitting in the waiting room staring at his hands for the last 10 minutes, and had now stuck his head into the surgery. "I need a good belt after what I just saw."
"I'll get it, Matthew; I think we can all use a drink after this afternoon," returned Jean, heading into the next room and the drink cart.
"And you're absolutely sure it was a demon," continued Alice.
"Yes, sweetheart, a demon. Just be lucky you weren't there to see it in person. I may never sleep again. Couldn't believe my eyes when we pulled into the clearing, and there was this, this, this THING just ripping into you Blake. Bloody hell, where's that whiskey?" Matthew shut his eyes and shuddered from head to toe.
Jean returned with the bottle and enough glasses for everyone. As she passed them out, she filled them in on what she had learned earlier from Ida Reynolds.
"So, it seems that what we need to do now is discover who opened the portal; they're the only ones that can close it again. Then it's just a matter of luring the thing back inside and sealing it up again," Jean finished, knocking back what was left of the whiskey in her hand.
While she had held it together well at the time, the sight of Lucien face down in the dirt with what looked like a giant, black, winged reptile tearing into him was now constantly hovering at the edges of her consciousness. Like Matthew, she was wondering how she'd ever sleep again.
As if sensing her mood, Lucien stretched a hand toward her, gathering her fingers in his and kissing the back of her hand. "I'm alright now," he told her, "thanks to you."
"Well," he continued, sitting up now that Alice appeared to be done, "according to Mrs. Reynolds, the last time the portal was opened, it was because someone read a passage in a book at the Ballarat historical society. Seems to me that that's the best place to go next; find that book and see if we can't figure out who looked at it last."
The motely crew entered the Ballarat historical society together, each looking slightly sheepish to some degree. No one wanted to be the first to broach the topic of the demon and its unlikely portal into this world from another. Finally, Lucien stepped up to the counter.
"Yes, I was wondering if you could help me," he smiled charmingly at the young woman behind the desk. "I'm looking for a book, I'm not entirely sure what it's about or even what it's called, but it has to do with, um, with," he began groping for words, turning around desperately to look for Jean.
"With the area surrounding Ballarat and any supernatural events that may have taken place there," finished Jean for him matter of factly.
"Yes, quite," continued Lucien, "Do you have anything like that, that we could take a look at?"
The clerk narrowed her eyes briefly before replying, "You mean, The History of the Wood People, by Miriam Sloane?"
"Yes, that's the one," answered Lucien excitedly, "Could we take a look at it?"
"I'm afraid it's out on loan," the clerk replied apologetically. "I can put your name down and call you when it returns, though," she offered.
"We're going to need it a bit sooner than that, I'm afraid. Do you think you could tell me who has it out just now?" Lucien asked, hopefully, trying to charm her with a smile.
The clerk sighed, "No, I'm afraid that that's against the rules," she began, but Lawson stepped forward.
"Police business, ma'am," he said sternly, staring her down. "Now, I can get a warrant and come back in here and tear this place apart for it, or you can just give me that name now. There are people's lives at stake and we need to know the name of the person who has that book." He glowered at her menacingly, while Lucien tried to look sympathetic – the good cop to Lawson's bad.
The clerk paled. "Yes, sir. I'll find it for you now." She hurried away to consult a ledger while Lucien, Matthew, and the others shuffled their feet and glanced around anxiously. They knew there wasn't much time to waste, and even when they had a name, they still needed to find this person.
The clerk returned a moment later, "The book was checked out just a few days ago by a Barbra Wilson. It looks like she also took it out about a year ago as well. In fact, she's the only person that's checked it out in several decades it looks like."
"Barbra Wilson," returned Matthew Lawson. "Right. I don't suppose you have an address for her?"
"I'm afraid not," the clerk began before Jean interrupted her.
"The Wilson girl. She always was an odd one. The Wilson's live out on the east side of town, quite near the stretch of woods where the portal was opened in fact. The family's lived out there for years – in fact, they would have been there the last time the portal was opened as well."
"Right," said Lawson. "We better get going then."
The drive out to the Wilson home was a tense one with little talking. Each of the four members of the party were struggling with disbelief, fear, and anxiety surrounding what was to come. It didn't seem possible that a demon was loose in Ballarat, let alone that a portal to another world had been opened in the woods just ahead.
Finally, they pulled up to the Wilson home, a dilapidated structure that hadn't seen care or a paint brush in many years. Weeds overgrew the garden and a child's swing hung lopsided from a tree, one of the ropes holding it having let go many years before.
They exited their cars and gathered at the foot of the porch steps.
"Right," said Lawson. "So, we just go up there and ask this girl if she's happened to have let any demons loose recently."
Jean shot him a withering look. "I think we can manage it with a bit more tact than that. Honestly, Matthew; you're as bad as Lucien sometimes!" Lucien managed to look both offended and delighted at the fact that it was Matthew putting his foot in it and not himself for a change.
"Come on, you lot," she continued as she led the way up the sagging porch steps. "Watch yourselves, there, that board is loose," she said as Lucien trod heavily on it, causing the other end to fly up and nearly hit Alice.
"Bloody hell! Alice, I do apologize! This place is really falling down around their ears isn't it?" Lucien asked as he carefully negotiated the rest of the way up the steps.
Jean rapped smartly on the door, and they waited for a moment before they heard heavy footsteps inside. The door creaked open a few inches, and a gust of foul smelling air rushed out at them.
"Yes?" said an elderly voice from behind the door.
"Sorry to bother you ma'am," began Lawson, "We're looking for a Barbra Wilson. I understand this is her address. Is she here? We need to speak to her immediately; police business."
The door opened slightly wider as their unseen host turned away to call up the stairs behind her, "Barbra! Come down here. There's some people what want to see you. Police they say they are!"
Footsteps echoed down the stairs and the woman behind the door continued to yell, "What have you done now, bringing the police to our door? You're as bad as your mother, and her father before her! Bad, the lot of you, right down to the bone."
"I'm sorry, Aunty, I'll take care of whatever it is," said the girl, now edging her way out the door. Presumably this was Barbra. She looked to be in her late teens, with greasy, lank hair falling about her face. She was wearing a pair of overalls that were much too big for her; she clutched the sides with her hands crossed over her chest to help keep them up.
"Yes?" she asked, her eyes darting from Matthew to Lucien to Jean and back again. Alice had wandered off to look at some mold growing on the far side of the porch and was currently out of view.
"You Barbra Wilson?" asked Matthew gruffly.
"Yes," admitted the girl, looking down.
"And did you recently check a book called, The History of the Wood People out from the Ballarat historical society, having checked it out previously about a year ago?" Matthew continued, staring her down.
"Yes," she whispered, eyes now darting back and forth as if she was looking for a way to escape.
Lucien stepped in now, in an attempt to help the girl feel more comfortable, "You're not in trouble, Barbra (Matthew shot him a look at that, which he ignored), we just want to ask you some questions, is that alright?"
She nodded, and he continued, "Tell me, why did you check the book out, how did you hear about it?" As he spoke, he led her to a bench nearby and settled her on it, placing one hand comfortingly on her shoulder.
"My grandfather used to tell stories, about how when he was young he once went through an invisible door and spent a day with the wood people. He made it sound so magical, there was dancing and food of all kinds, and the wood people were so kind.
He said that someone had opened the door by reading something in a book, and that terrible things had happened while he was gone; he got pushed back out into this world just before the door got sealed shut again. He said sometimes that he wished that he had never come back, that he wished he had been able to stay with the wood people.
I asked around at the historical society, and found that they had a book about the wood people. So, I took it out."
"And did you read anything from the book out loud," asked Lucien, "to try to open the door again yourself?"
"Yes," she whispered, "But I didn't think that it had worked. I went down to the woods every day, looking for it, but I never found it, so I brought the book back to the historical society."
"And what made you check it out again?" asked Lucien gently, giving her shoulder a small squeeze.
"That boy, the one that went missing and then came back again. He was talking about the wood people; I knew he was. So, I knew that I must have opened the door, even if I couldn't find it. I thought that maybe if I had the book again, I could find a way to locate the door."
Silence followed as they tried to digest what she was saying. Finally, Lucien spoke again, "And, forgive me for having to ask you this Barbra, but did it ever occur to you that if you opened this, this door, that something might… come out of it?"
She shook her head mutely, staring down at her lap.
The others exchanged glances. "Right. Well, Barbra, I hate to be the one to tell you this, but, you see, something did come through that door," Lucien began.
Barbra looked up quickly, "What?" she asked breathlessly.
"Well, a demon of some sort, that had been imprisoned there. It seems that the wood people can help keep it asleep, but when the door is opened, the sounds of our world here may wake it up. It's awake now, and it's killed three people so far. We need your help, Barbra to make sure that it goes back before it can kill again."
"You need MY help?" Barbra asked, astonished.
"Yes!" answered Lucien with another squeeze of her shoulder, "You see, the only person that can close the door again, trapping the demon inside, is the one who opened it in the first place. So, you see, we need you to help prevent any more killings in town."
Barbra gazed off into the distance for a moment, then said, "I don't want to, though."
The others exchanged glances again, then Lucien said as gently as he could, "Why not?"
"Because I haven't found the door yet!" Barbra burst out, showing more life and enthusiasm in those few words than she had in the last 10 minutes. "I want to go live with the wood people! You don't know what it's like for me here. My aunt hates me, she blames me and my mother for everything going wrong in her life. And she won't let me fix anything! I used to try, when I was younger to fix things or to clean the house. She would just yell at me to leave it alone.
I want to live with the wood people who dance all day and who are happy!"
Silence followed for a moment, then Matthew exploded, "And while you're off being happy, the rest of the town gets slaughtered by the demon YOU let escape! Is that what you want? Is it?" Alice crept up behind him, placing her hand on his arm while Lucien attempting to regain control of the conversation.
"You just want to be happy, don't you?" he murmured to Barbra, who was now sobbing. He offered her his handkerchief before continuing, "That's what we all want in the end, isn't it? To be happy. And while I truly do see why you would want to go live with the wood people, you have to understand, you belong in this world, just like the demon belongs in that one. And you owe it to the people of this town to prevent any more killings," he continued.
Barbra shook his hand off her arm and burst out, "I don't care about the people in this town! When have any of them cared about me? I know how they all think – oh, there goes dreadful Barbra in her grandfather's old overalls. It's a wonder she doesn't smell more than she does, coming out of that foul old house! I can hear them whispering when I walk by. Why should I care if the demon kills the lot of them!" She jumped to her feet, about to run away when Jean restrained her gently with a hand on her arm.
"Barbra," she began, "I think I may have a solution that will help us all."
"So, let's go over the plan one more time," said Matthew as he and Lucien ushered Barbra toward the woods. Jean and Alice had left a few hours ago to start trying to round up stray townspeople and ensure that no one was left alone in town for the demon to try to prey on.
"It's simple really, Matthew," returned Lucien. "Jean, Alice, and the rest of the police department will help make sure that no residents are alone, which should mean that once Barbra is by herself, it will come follow her here. Once we hear it coming – and believe me, Matthew, I will be hearing that sound for the rest of my life – we give her the signal and she slips through the door.
The demon follows her in, she closes the door from the inside, and hopefully lives a very long and happy life with the wood people while the demon goes back to sleep. And since she'll have taken the book with her into the portal, there's no chance of someone else getting their hands on it and opening it up once more.
Although, goodness me, the historical society ladies are certainly going to have kittens once they realize that the book has gone missing along with the last person who had it!"
"That's the least of our worries. Are you sure this will work? What if she loses her nerve or the demon won't follow her in?" Matthew was feeling a bit pessimistic about this whole thing. Criminals he could handle, but a demon? Retirement couldn't get here fast enough.
"Even if she changes her mind about living with the wood people, all she has to do is close the door from this side. And if she has the book with her, she can always choose to come out again later, then reseal the door once she does. I don't see how this can go wrong." Lucien was humming with energy, bouncing on the balls of his feet like a little boy, excited to be bringing this mystery to a close.
Matthew glared at him, "Don't see what there is to be so excited about," he grumbled to himself. He and Lucien halted on the edge of the woods while Barbra continued onward toward the spot they had found earlier, where the door was located. They could just make out the area of the woods from where they were, and should be able to see Barbra as she made her way through the door. She was nearly there now.
Suddenly, the sky overhead began to darken as a rushing sound could be detected far away.
"That's it! That's the demon," shouted Lucien, waving his arms to attract Barbra's attention. She was standing just outside the portal, double checking its location against the book to make sure it was indeed right. She nodded to say she understood, then stood waiting for the demon to get closer.
Lucien and Matthew began to back away, wanting the demon to think that Barbra was completely alone; the plan wouldn't work if it couldn't be enticed to follow her through the door.
Suddenly, Lucien had a thought, "Matthew! I've just remembered! The other little boy, the one who disappeared just the other day; he's still in there!"
"Bloody hell, Blake! You just remember him now? What the hell are we going to do, the demon's approaching, and where the hell do you think you're going?" he shouted as Lucien began running toward the portal door, shouting to Barbra about the boy, "Try to get him out before you seal the door," he bellowed.
The rushing sound began to die off, and cursing, Lucien stopped running and began to retreat back toward Matthew, remembering only now that by running toward Barbra, he had left his friend alone in the field at the edge of the woods.
The sky above Matthew was beginning to darken as Lucien began to speed toward him, pushing himself further than he had done in years. He tripped over a tree root and went sprawling, looking up to see the demon beginning to materialize just above Matthew. He pulled himself up from the ground and sprinted forward, reaching Matthew seconds before the demon did.
"Bloody hell," he gasped, putting his hands on his knees and coughing as if he was going to turn himself inside out. "That was a close one."
"You're telling me," said Matthew, who had gone white. He held out his hand toward Lucien, "Give me your hip flask!" he demanded, before reaching right into Lucien's jacket pocket for it. He took a large swig, then another before passing it back to Lucien, who finished it off.
Both of them looked up when they heard a scream. Barbra was standing stock still, staring at the demon now rushing toward her.
"Good God, don't lose your nerve now, girl," muttered Matthew under his breath, his own fear now forgotten as he realized that their plan might still fail.
He needn't have worried though; Barbra suddenly drew herself upwards and stepped neatly through the portal door, vanishing from Lucien and Matthew's sight. The demon went barreling in after it. The men held their breath, waiting, when suddenly a small boy stumbled out of seemingly nowhere.
Lucien went running forward once again, waving his arms to get the boy's attention, when there was a blinding flash of light just ahead. He stumbled to a stop, temporarily blinded, then continued on until he reached the boy, who looked excited and confused at once.
"Who are you," he asked Lucien, looking around at the woods, "Where did the wood people go?"
Lucien laughed as he reached out to put a hand on the boy's shoulder, "That, I'm afraid is rather a long story!"
Lucien groaned loudly as he lowered himself into a chair in his study. Between his shredded back and the bruises he had received by tripping in his run through the woods, he was incredibly sore. Jean heard him from the kitchen where she had been making some tea, and popped her head around the doorway.
"Lucien? Are you in pain?" she asked.
He instantly straightened up, "No, no, not at all," he replied, grinning at her with a slightly manic look. He tried to stand and immediately hissed in pain as the stitches pulled across his back.
Jean rolled her eyes and slipped back into the kitchen to grab the pain killers she had left on the counter. She brought him one with a glass of water. "Honestly. I don't know why you like to pretend things are fine when they clearly aren't." She sounded more amused than annoyed, so Lucien merely smiled at her as he swallowed the pill.
"Well, I can't speak for my normal behavior, but I will say that I'm having a hard time believing that a demon – a demon! – actually attacked me today. Acknowledging the pain means acknowledging the fact that things like wood people, portals to another dimension, and demons are all real! And I'm not sure that I'm quite ready to do that," he finished with a rueful smile.
Jean smiled at him in return. "I completely understand. I don't think I'll ever go back to thinking of this place as sleepy little Ballarat ever again!"
Lucien chuckled. "Oh, it hasn't been that for me since I returned."
"No?" Jean asked, perching on the arm of his chair and leaning gently against him.
"No," he replied, taking one of her hands in his and kissing the back of it. "No, between finding you here and everything we've seen and done these last few years, no I don't think that sleepy would quite cover it!"
Jean smiled at him, bending to kiss him before she went back to the kitchen to finish making the tea, everything right within her world once more.
