CHAPTER TWELVE
"Misery Loves Company"
A few minutes after the scene of carnage, Ash stumbled out of the shed door. He'd wiped off the light to aid in the cleanup a bit, but had mostly just tossed the body parts out. The chainsaw hung loosely in his grip and he looked down at the blood all over his shirt and was overcome with a strange, sickening sense of calm now that he knew Linda was gone for good. He'd been grieving for her loss all along, but now he wouldn't have to worry about seeing her again…
Ash shut the door behind him and latched it, then stumbled down the incline to the back door of the cabin, opening it and going inside. He latched the door, locked it behind him and leaned against it, catching his breath. After a moment, he slowly made his way back toward the main room and half-heartedly tossed the saw to the floor of the kitchen. He reached the main room, looking around and finding a towel on the counter, which he used to dab off as much of the blood as he could, then tossed the towel aside. He grabbed the discarded Shotgun from the floor and turned to the rocking chair once more to come up with a plan, but froze as the chair turned toward him.
Ash checked to make sure the gun was loaded, it was, and he leveled it at the chair, just in case. He wasn't about to take ANY chances at this point… Too much weird shit had happened. The chair began to rock slowly, and let out a loud creaking sound with each movement, as though someone was sitting in it. Ash felt his heartbeat get faster, how could the chair have someone in it? He found himself asking. Was it, an invisible person? Demon? Thing!
Ash slowly let go of the shotgun with one hand, reaching out toward the chair. Just short of him touching it though, it suddenly stopped moving altogether. Ash stopped as well, and realized that he might've been imagining it moving from the start… He backed up, letting the shotgun drop to the floor again and rubbing his head, thinking hard. Was the chair actually moving? He moved over to the corner to the left of the front door, placing his hands against the wall on either side of the head-level mirror hanging there. He stared at himself, at the bags under his eyes, the pale complexion he'd developed from all the horror he'd been through over the course of… "God how long have I been here?" a voice asked. Was that his voice?
Ash took a deep breath, looking at his own mouth as he spoke into the mirror. "Get a grip man, you're fine… Everything is… Fine." He said, nodding. That is, Ash nodded. His reflection didn't though.
The mirror Ash suddenly lunged forward, grabbing Ash by the shoulders as it came right THROUGH the mirror as though it wasn't even solid. Ash was frozen in fear as this reflection of himself stared at him, wide-eyed. "I don't think so." It said. "We just cut up our girlfriend with a chainsaw… Does that sound… FINE?" It asked him, then clutched him by the throat and began making laughing sounds, in spite of the fact that it wasn't smiling in any way. The laughter echoed in Ash's mind as the hands clutched his neck, choking him and Ash shut his eyes tightly, then stepped back, but the hands stayed firmly around his neck. He opened his eyes and saw his reflection back inside the mirror, and he also saw his OWN hands around his OWN throat. Ash released himself and looked down. "What the hell?" He asked nobody, looking at his hands intently.
The bite marks on his right hand looked like they might be getting infected somehow, and Ash wondered a moment if he would turn into a zombie or something, but pushed that out of his mind, that's how it happened in movies… This was… Well, he had no idea if this was reality anymore…
Suddenly, the veins around his hand began to show through his skin, and his right hand trembled a bit as the veins turned black. He gasped, and cringed at the pain accompanying the activity. The hand raised up in front of his face, and Ash was confused, as he felt like he wasn't telling the hand to do that… Then suddenly it began jerking back and forth, and his fingernails, to Ash's horror, grew longer, and green, with blackness forming in his cuticles.
Ash didn't know what to do, but didn't have long to think about it, as the hand suddenly shot forward into his face, digging the nails into his skin. "AH!" Ash screamed, grabbing his wrist with his left hand and yanking it away. It lunged again, but Ash held it fast. "You bastards…" He said, almost in disbelief. "You dirty bastards!" He shouted, falling to his knees. He watched as his own hand jerked and struggled against his grip, trying to get at him, so he slammed it to the ground, which seemed to stun it. Tears formed in his eyes, he was alone, in the middle of nowhere, with nobody to help him… and now his own body was turning against him. "Give me back my hand…" He choked out, then rage replaced terror and he furrowed his brow, growling. "GIVE ME BACK MY HAAAAAAAND!" He called out.
The hand continued to thrash around though, seeming to get stronger as time went on. Not knowing what to do, Ash got up, rushing to the sink in the kitchen, running cold water over it. He had no idea, but the horror he was experiencing had driven him to child-like reaction, doing as his mother had always told him to do with injuries when he was a boy. Ash left the hand in the running water, which actually seemed to do the trick, as it went limp. He couldn't move it, but it didn't move on its own either… So it was a start.
Ash leaned against the sink, his head resting on his left forearm as he tried to come up with a plan. How could he make it out of this if he couldn't even stop the Evil from infecting his body parts? What part would they take next? That thought terrified him too much to allow it to enter his mind any more than that though… Maybe he could take the gun and the saw and try the old trail again-
SMASH!
Ash's world swam with spots and colors, he stumbled backwards, using his left hand to catch himself before he fell. He saw bits of a glass plate from dinner topple to the floor at his feet, and looked over just in time to see his hand flying at him with another plate. He shut his eyes just as the plate collided with his head like the first and he cried out in pain, feeling blood trickle down his face from the first strike. He caught himself again and blocked the next strike out of sheer instinct, making the plate fall from his right hand's grip and shatter on the floor. The hand instead shot to his hair and yanked his head down into the counter top so hard he felt one of the back teeth on his left cheek crack. He tried to move away from the counter, completely stunned by the ferocity of the attack, but the hand slammed into his stomach, doubling him over, then smashed him in the jaw in an upper-cut.
Ash tried to fight back, but the hand grabbed is hair again and flipped him head-over-heels to the floor, on his back. The pain was horrible, and then a bottle shattered over his cranium, knocking his lights out completely.
...
The thing in the woods was now the thing in Ashley's hand. It giggled to itself, amused at it's own amazing idea as it reached for the remains of the fallen plate on the floor, but stopped as it spotted something better…
During the scuffle, the knife drawer had apparently been thrown open, and a meat cleaver had been knocked onto the floor. It lay a few feet from Ashley's unconscious form, on the other side of the kitchen, by the hallway. The hand skittered as far as it could get, but Ashley's reach wasn't long enough. The hand went to work though, digging it's nails into the floor and pulling with all the force it could muster. Ashley's body slid forward, dragging him along on his belly. Inch by inch the meat cleaver drew closer, and the thing in the woods' blood-lust grew. It still didn't know why this one had been impossible to possess permanently, but in a moment, it wouldn't even matter-
Excruciating pain shot through the hand, and the thing in the woods felt it. The butcher's knife was stuck fast into the floorboard of the kitchen, and Ash's left hand clutched it.
...
Ash's whole body shook with the pain, but he fought through it, his voice trembling as he spoke. "Uh huh… That's right… Who's laughing now?" He asked. His gaze drifted and, in his crazed, pain-soaked brain's state, he saw the Chainsaw on the floor of the kitchen, and it was his salvation. He let go of the knife, leaving his right hand pinned to the floor by it, and ignored the agony as the hand violently tried to rip itself free. He turned the saw over and latched onto the rip-chord grip with his teeth, squeezing the trigger of the saw, hoping it wasn't too cooled down. He yanked his head back and the saw fired up like a miracle. He let go of the chord, looking down at the hand and glared.
"Who's laughing now!" He demanded again, knowing that the thing in the woods was listening. He revved the saw up full-blast and lowered it onto his wrist, screaming in unbelievable agony as the whirling steel chain tore into his skin and bit through the bone underneath. Blood hit him in the face and he screamed even louder, almost in a battle cry at this point as he finished the job and the hand was ripped free.
Somehow, even through the pain of the self-surgical removal of his hand, Ash didn't pass out, and as soon as the hand had been taken off, the pain had actually LESSENED. As though the Evil had become so entrenched into the flesh of that limb, that it hadn't even been part of him anymore. Ash had gotten to his feet and turned on the clothing iron before finding a trash can and placing it over the hand. "Here's your new home." He said bitterly. To make sure it didn't get out, he reached into the bookshelf built into the desk by the kitchen hallway door and grabbed a random stack of books. He placed them on top of the trash can, and couldn't help but stare at the top book. 'A Farewell to Arms' was the title that looked up at him. He shook his head and got to work fixing himself up.
Oddly enough, by the time Ash got his stump wrapped up, there was little to no bleeding from the wound, and it reinforced Ash's notion that the possession of his hand had somehow turned it into an autonomous creature, and his arm now just ended at his wrist… It still hurt like a bitch though. He wrapped it in a dry, clean cloth and wrapped the cloth in duct tape just in case, praying he didn't die of some kind of infection after all this. He heard a tapping sound behind him in the main room of the cabin and went out to investigate, seeing the trash can still in place, so he turned to go back to the kitchen.
CRASH! CLUNK!
Ash spun around and the trash can was laying overturned in the corner, the hand nowhere to be seen. He picked up the Shotgun, knowing the thing was still dangerous even if it wasn't attached anymore. Ash listened intently, and then spotted it scrambling across the floor towards a small hole in the base of the wall. Ash took aim, but it was gone before he could fire. He swore to himself and raised the gun again, moving closer to the wall, listening intently for any sound of the hand. He heard a scraping sound, like nails, as it probably climbed the inside of the wall. He pinpointed it best he could, firing off both shells in the general vicinity. After the deafening 'BOOM! BOOM!' of both barrels, there was silence again.
Ash listened, but no more sounds greeted him. A thin trickle of blood did seep from one of the shell holes though. "Gotcha didn't I, ya little sucker?" He mumbled. Just as he was about to turn away though, the trickle turned into a spray, and a fire-hose blast of blood began to shoot out of the shotgun holes, knocking Ash right off his feet. He felt it fill up his mouth and spit it out furiously as he tried to regain his footing, but failed. He felt the entire cabin begin to fill up with blood like a fish tank and his head hit the ceiling as he tried to go up for air.
Suddenly, the cabin was empty, and all was back to the way it was before, aside from Ash still being soaked in blood, and black goop that had shot out at him. Nothing else was touched by it though. He was furious, the Evil was screwing with his mind, and he was getting sick of it. "Show yourselves! Ole double barrel here'll blow your balls to kingdom come!" He shouted, but nothing answered. Ash panted a bit, then moved over towards the chair. "See if we don't…" He trailed off, then sat down in the chair, which fell apart under his weight. He toppled to the floor and considered just laying there, until he heard a crackling sound from the wall above the fireplace.
Ash's gaze shot towards the source of the sound, finding the deer head was now looking right at him, the eyes were larger, and blank white though. "HAH!" It guffawed, and began to bellow out a loud, raucous chorus of laughter at him. He blinked quickly several times, but the deer head was indeed laughing at him…
Then a higher pitched laugh joined the Deer, and Ash saw it was the bookshelf doors, flapping open and closed quickly as laughter emanated from it too. He backed away, leaning his back against the front door, but the goose-neck lamp on the side table, next to where the rocking chair had been sitting, began bobbing up and down and laughing a loud, wheezing, cruel laugh as well. Ash turned away from it, trying to ignore it all and wait it out, but it was too much, and soon, every single piece of furniture in the cabin was laughing at him.
The noise was deafening, and Ash stood in the center of the room, clutching the Shotgun in his one remaining hand, turning and looking at each of the laughing things, then he heard another laugh, loud and booming and full of cruel humor too. It took him a moment to realize he was the one that had started to laugh last, and he guffawed in such an over-the-top manner that he couldn't help but double-over from the intensity of it. He didn't know why he found this so funny, but his mind was so far-gone that he couldn't stop to figure it out now. Then slowly, as this realization dawned on him, his laughter grew more long-winded and less reverberated, until finally, he was merely letting out desperate, terrified screams, and he was now the only thing in the room making noise. He looked at the furniture, still screaming and daring anything else to even MOVE.
The doorknob jiggled.
Ash spun toward the front door and let loose with both barrels of the shotgun, punching through the boards he'd used to repair the door earlier. He heard a woman scream on the other side of the door and froze.
Who was that?
Ash breached the shotgun quickly, popping both shells out, and rapidly reloaded, snapping it shut once more. No sound clued him as to what was out there, so he slowly approached the door, unlocked it, and pushed it open. The wind and sounds of the forest outside greeted him, and for the first time… the forest looked… Normal to him. In spite of his blood-soaked, one-handed state, aside from the chaos that the interior of the cabin looked like… Everything outside seemed normal.
A figure darted in, pushed the shotgun upward, and tackled him to the floor. Ash instantly went back to fight mode, punching wildly with his left hand at his attacker, but another man joined him and held Ash's arms down over his head. Ash screamed and pleaded up at the hillbilly-looking man on top of him, but didn't have long to wonder what was happening, as a fist flew at his face and once more, Ash was greeted by darkness, and it seemed as though they were old friends by this point.
Annie stormed into the cabin as Ed gave the all-clear. She saw Jake and Ed pulling a third man toward the cellar door, he was raggedy looking, missing a hand, and covered in blood. "Oh my God… Where are my parents!" She shouted, then ran inside, looking in the kitchen and peering into the side bedroom. The window was shattered, and there were clothes and suitcases next to the closet, but no sign of her mother and father's things. There was blood though, all over the place. Splattered against the walls, on the floor, everywhere were signs of violence. Annie re-entered the main room and saw Jake tending to Bobby-Joe's injured shoulder, where part of the buckshot had winged her.
Annie saw the shotgun, and then she saw the chainsaw… Drenched in blood as well. She rushed over to the unconscious man and grabbed him violently by the shirt collar. "What the hell did you do to them? WHAT THE HELL DID YOU DO TO THEM!" She demanded, shaking him hard. He opened his eyes, but it was clear that he was still out of it. Ed came over and pulled her away, hugging her as she began to cry.
"Annie, calm down…" He said, patting her on the back. "Maybe they never came here at all. None of the stuff in those suitcases are even their things."
"But these are!" She said, pointing to the ceremonial dagger and tape recorder sitting on the desk by the kitchen counter window.
The man on the floor began to stir more now, and Jake knew he was coming around. "I'm throwin' him in there." He said angrily, getting to his feet. Ed went over to the cellar door, where Jake was pointing, and lifted it up.
"Wait… Wait. I made a mistake." The stranger said pleadingly as he tried to regain consciousness. "Wait, don't put me down there… Cheryl…" He mumbled.
Jake yanked him by his arm all the way over to the door, and the stranger stopped himself at the edge, looking up. "Wait! I made a mistake!" He said again.
"Damn right you did, you flat-mouthed sumbitch!" He shouted, then kicked the man in the face, sending him tumbling down the stairs to the floor of the cellar.
"I hope you rot down there!" Bobby-Joe shouted, clutching her wounded arm.
Annie ignored them all, flipping the play button on the tape recorder. The spools began to turn and she listened as her father's voice came through the speaker. "It has been a few hours since I've translated and spoken aloud the first of the demon resurrection passages from the Book of the Dead, it is now October first…"
"Listen." Annie said to the others. "This is my father's voice." The last time she'd spoken with her father was Thanksgiving last year over the phone, when she'd still been overseas. He told her he was planning to come up to the cabin for a few months to catch up on his work with the book… But Ed had spoken to him on the phone a week ago, hadn't he?
"Now I fear that my wife has become host to a Candaarian Demon." Knowby's voice said, trembling as he spoke. "It is now October Third… Henrietta is… Dead." He said.
"No…" Annie said, her hand covering her mouth in horror.
Ash lay at the bottom of the steps to the cellar, staring up at the ceiling. He could see the newcomers moving around upstairs through the hole Cheryl had punched through earlier. He'd heard the yuppie guy call the dark haired one Annie, and remembered the name from Knowby's tapes, that must have been why she was so steamed at him. He lay there though, taking deep breaths to get his senses about him, and tried to figure out what to do. If they got possessed like the others, he'd have one hell of a fight on his hands…
"I could not bring myself to dismember her corpse." Knowby's voice continued reluctantly. "So I dragged her down the steps and I buried her." Ash's ears perked up at that, and he looked around. "I buried her in the cellar." Knowby confirmed. "God help me, I buried her in the Earthen floor of the fruit cellar…"
Ash's eyes darted to the pile of dirt clumped over near the wall and realized with horror what it had been this whole time. Suddenly, the head of an old woman burst up from the dirt pile, worms wriggling out of two holes in her head. Ash screamed and scrambled up the stairs as Henrietta howled inhumanly at him in response, clawing her way up from the hole.
"Someone's in my fruit cellar…" She said, stepping up onto the solid ground. "Someone with a fresh soul!"
Ash pounded up against the cellar door, but the chains prevented him from opening it any more than Cheryl had been able to. "Help! Lemme out, there's something down here!" He screamed.
"Let him out!" Annie ordered Jake.
"It's a trick, I know it!" Jake said, obviously having heard the noise of Henrietta below, but unable to accept it.
"LET HIM OUT!" Annie shouted, more urgently.
"Open the door!" Ash shouted again, looking down.
Below him, the portly, bloated, rotten form of Henrietta approached the steps. Most of her clothing was rotted away, exposing the horrid remains of her body below, and none of it appeared human. She was mostly sickly green, purple and gray colored now, and her eyes were the trademark white that the Demons had shown up till now. "Come to me…" She said, wiggling her finger at Ash in delight. "Come to sweet Henrietta!" She said in a sensual voice, in spite of it being warped by the possessing spirit.
"HELP ME PLEASE!" Ash begged, slamming the door again.
Henrietta climbed the first few steps, looking up at him. "I'll swallow your soul!" She shouted, then her face contorted even more than it already was, and her neck shot out, stretching and bringing her head toward him, the mouth splitting her cheeks and opening wide to devour him.
Ash screamed as two strong hands suddenly clamped down around his head, pulling him upward. He grabbed hold of Jake's arms and was pulled to safety just in time. An instant later, Henrietta's pin-head popped up from below, snarling and spitting horrid Demon bile everywhere. Ash kicked at it and it was knocked back down a bit, but Ed tried to punch at the Demon, and received a strong hand to the face for his troubles. The Demon squeezed his face, clawing him a bit, then shoved him so hard he flew clear across the room and hit his head on the wall, cracking the plaster.
Bobby-Joe screamed in horror at the sight of the creature, backing away and hiding behind Annie, who just stared wide-eyed. This was a Candaarian Demon… Just like in the paintings…
Ash kicked the cellar door shut on Henrietta's head, and it was caught between the door and the edge of the floor. Ash jumped on top of it and one of Henrietta's eyes burst from the socket, flying out and hitting Bobby-Joe in the face, causing her to scream louder and swipe at herself in disgust. Jake finally kicked Henrietta in the face, sending her toppling back down the steps and allowing the door to shut fully. He and Ash quickly put all their weight on the door and the two of them worked quickly, locking it with the chains once again.
For a time, nobody spoke. Annie helped Ed up and sat him down on the couch, pressing her scarf to his head where it was now bleeding. Jake clutched Bobby-Joe to him as she sobbed in fear, and Ash just stood there, unsure of what to do. "So, name's Ash…" He said with a small wave. "Nice to meet ya."
