A/N: Quick update, I know! I just wanted to get back on track, updating Mondays, Wednesdays, Fridays, and possibly weekends on occasion. ;) I'd like to make it clear that everything should be about clear as mud right now. Don't try to overthink the plot or interactions-they're creepily abnormal and crazy for a reason. Black is illogically psycho, but brilliant at the same time. He's making the town and everyone in it who hasn't seen him for the evil he really is into nut jobs as well. Just roll with it. It's meant to be crazy for a reason! :D
Thanks to Ozma, iluvjoe, MCR-1993, and BlueEyes444 for reviewing the last chapter! Enjoy chapter four and don't forget to review! :)
Paradise Broken
Chapter Four
Paradise, Colorado
June 3, 2010
"Steve has always been a great guy," Johnny Drake said as Frank started up the rental car and backed out of the Drake driveway with Johnny in the front seat. "And his wife, Paula, is one of the nicest people you'll ever meet. But ever since that self-proclaimed preacher came to town, they—well, the whole town, really—have been acting really weird. I'm worried about Steve and whatever he's doing in his backyard can't be good."
Frank glanced at the church as he drove by. "I wonder how Joe's doing."
Johnny looked nervous. "I don't think Black will try anything—not with you guys being visitors and all." He didn't look convinced. As the car approached a small road, Johnny said, "Turn here." Frank complied. "Steve's is the second house on the left." Frank flicked on the turn signal and pulled into the driveway in front of the quaint little home.
The two teenagers got out of the car and approached the front door. Johnny's finger froze hovering over the doorbell. A faint thump, thump, thump could be heard from behind the house, and the sound of someone grunting, whispering to himself. "That's Steve," Johnny whispered. "He was one of the first to talk to Black, but don't expect him to tell you much—he's falling into the trap quicker than anyone." He pressed the doorbell.
The thumping ceased for a heartbeat, then continued again, louder and more erratic than before. Johnny rang the bell again. This time the thumping stopped all together.
A pretty, dark-haired woman opened the door, her eyes dead and narrowed. "Oh, it's you," she hissed when she saw Johnny, sneering. "Come to spread more lies about that glorious preacher again, are we, boy?"
"No—it's the truth!" Johnny protested. Frank stepped in.
"Mrs. Smithers?"
"What?"
"My name is Frank Hardy, and—"
"Hardy?" Paula Smithers said, spitting the name like it was poison. "Wasn't there a Hardy poking his nose around a few days ago, too?" She squinted at Frank. "Matter of fact, you look just like him, only younger."
"Yes. Um, well, Mrs. Smithers, I was wondering if your husband is home? There are just a few quick questions I'd like to ask him about Marsuvees Black."
Paula raised an eyebrow. "Why not ask the preacher?"
"Because Steve was one of the first to talk to him!" Johnny piped up. "If Black said something to incriminate himself or anything of importance, he'd probably know it."
Frank sucked in his breath. Despite Johnny's good intentions, judging by what he'd heard from Paula so far, Johnny's method was not very wise. Or maybe...
Paula let out a short, angry laugh that was more of a bark. "Fine, talk to Steve. See if I care. But he won't tell you anything because there's nothing to tell. Marsuvees Black is a miracle worker and magic man and is the best thing that's happened to our town!"
She led the boys through a house that looked like it hadn't been cleaned in days. Johnny was looking around in shock and Frank figured that the Smithers must normally be very clean people, not the slobs that inhabited the house now. Paula led them to a screen door at the back of the house and smirked. "Steve's out there, but he's not in the mood to talk. Actually, he's not in the mood to do anything now but play in the shed." She paused and said, almost inaudibly, "Grace Juice, Baby." She left the room.
"I swear, Paula is normally so sweet!" Johnny said in a high voice. "This is not cool...it's worse than I thought!"
The two boys went through the screen door and found Steve Smithers in his overgrown jungle of a backyard, standing near a dilapidated shed, banging away with a knife and hammer at some medium-length posts.
"What is he doing?" Johnny asked, not expecting an answer, because Frank was just as much in the dark about Steve's actions as the blonde boy beside him. Frank's eyes darted to a pile of the posts and saw that they had all been sharpened on both ends to make a pile of deadly wooden stakes. He instantly felt a little queasy.
Steve didn't acknowledge the visitors, even when they were standing two feet away from him. "Steve," said Johnny and the man merely grunted in response.
"Mr. Smithers, I'd like to ask you a few questions about Marsuvees Black," Frank began.
At the mention of the "preacher", something inside of Steve Smithers snapped. His head whipped up and the boys saw the maniacal, crazed look in his eyes before the man let out an ear-splitting roar and screamed, "GET OUT OF MY HOUSE, YOU PUKES!"
"Mr. Smithers—" Frank protested, put out by the man's insane behavior.
Letting out a savage yell, Steve moved lightening fast and suddenly had a stake in his hand, threatening to use it. "OUT!" he screamed.
"But—" Johnny said.
Steve ran at them then, brandishing the stake. Paula stood in the doorway, laughing. Both boys bolted from the yard, Johnny out of fear and Frank out of a desire to protect Johnny. They were almost to the gate when Frank felt something pierce his left arm and felt sticky blood slide down but he didn't stop, not even when he was whacked again, this time on his leg by the blunt edge of the stake.
The boys cleared the fence, Frank bleeding and limping, and dove into the car. Frank sped away but saw Steve having a fit in his backyard and finally turning back to his stake-making.
The first thing Joe was aware of was the pain. Pain in his head, his jaw, his arms, legs, back, and abdomen.
Then he became aware of the suffocating darkness and stuffy air around him and he immediately panicked, jerking his body, then screaming in pain into a piece of duct tape.
He was apparently trussed up like a pig at a rodeo. His hands were tied together, as were his ankles. His wrists and ankles had been stretched behind his back and tied to each other, forcing his back to arch and stretching his spine almost to its breaking point. From what he could tell, there was also a blindfold over his eyes and a hood over his head. He was lying on his side.
His muscles were screaming in protest at their unnatural position and his jaw pounded from where Black had slugged him.
Then Joe remembered the disturbing scene he had witnessed before Black had knocked him out—the roar, the skin melting off, the skeleton.
Joe shuddered. Whoever this Marsuvees Black guy was, he was something unnaturally evil. A cold fear washed over him as he realized that he was now at this man's mercy.
He heard a soft chuckle and heavy breathing from somewhere beside him.
He wasn't alone.
A/N: Sorry, I know, quick update and I leave you with more questions than answers...can't say I'm sorry for doing that though...because this just means you'll be back for more! :D
Please review, and I'll update Friday! :)
~Emachinescat ^..^