We are nearing the end of the scary little Halloween fiction. I hope you will enjoy their escape! Chapter 10 will conclude this little tale which will come tomorrow! As always I appreciate the reviews, you all have been great! Enjoy!
Chapter 9
Once Rick and Michonne woke from their dream, which would be their last in that dreadful house, they immediately noticed things were intensifying inside the house. They could feel the change and see the revolting transformation. The atmosphere of fright enveloped them like cold dead hands wrapping about their bodies. The house was now freezing, like the temperature had dropped 30 degrees suddenly, and it was literally decaying before their eyes. The walls that were once firm were now spongy and rotted and seeping some foreign otherworldly gunk. The smell in the house was becoming more and more putrid and pungent, so much so that it was difficult to breath it in and they had to concentrate to only breath through their mouths. The windows that you could at least once see out of, were now layered with grime and filth and muck. All those many and glorious canned goods that lined the cabinets and pantry in the kitchen and was supposed to be a God's send for the people at the prison were now bent and dented. Each can tainted with a rank oozing goo dripping from cracked open cans. The gloppy fetid substance seemed to spread from the containment of their cans and now lined walls and floors and counters turning the kitchen into a squalid mess. That same fog that they saw when driving down to the community was now filtering into the house. It was darker and filled with shadows and obscure noises that chilled their blood. Even the corporal Allison was becoming more decomposed with rot causing her to appear as a walking festering sore. She was starting to have maggots crawl about her. The house itself felt like it was becoming a living, breathing, but undead thing just like the walkers outside.
Rick and Michonne had no more time to waste. It was now or never. They both ran to the basement, shrugging off their sluggishness, and stepped over Wilfred, who tried desperately to stop them by seizing them by their legs. The effort of using his actual body caused Wilfred decaying bulk to break apart. His limbs were rotting away faster now and pieces of him started to fall off as a result of his attempts to keep the duo from completing their task. Michonne used her Katana to finish him off. She chopped off his hands and feet and arms and head and kicked them into a bunch in the corner. Wilfred strained to gather the strength to take over his body again but was too weak and so he wailed as he watched them search for the hidden room, and when they found it, the door was of course locked. But they had the keys. They fumbled at first, dropping the keys to the ground in their rush. When Michonne bent down to pick them up, she was so lethargic that she almost lay down to take a nap. Rick pulled her back up and took the keys from her hand. Rick breathed out and steadied his hand, he placed each key into the lock until he finally found the correct one and opened the door. They saw eight bodies, all bones, some were missing parts of their bodies that could see, other parts were harder to ascertain. Two of them were very small, those were Wilfred's children, their life shortened by their immoral and unconscionable father. Michonne would have cried had she not had a purpose and needed to stay focused and determined. And that was to get the bones and get the hell out.
They filled all eight bags with every single bone, careful not to leave one behind. There were times when arms and skulls and other parts would fall back to the ground as they moved with urgency to complete their mission. Michonne and Rick fought the urge to spew the bile building in their throats all over the room. Once the pillowcases were filled with what was left of the victims, they hauled them up the stairs and out of the basement and salted the doorless entrance as they left. They took a few steps before Michonne made a sudden stop. Rick looked back at her wondering why she stopped moving and with a sorrowful look he realized what she already had, they had not gotten every single piece of his victims remains. The jars. They needed to go back down to the basement and get the jars that were filled with the parts forcibly and violently taken from each of the poor battered souls. They both paused and with slouched shoulders fatigued limbs, they carefully stepped over the line of salt and to go back into the basement.
Rick told Michonne that he would take care of it, but Michonne held her hand up to Rick, "We are in this together Rick," She breathlessly stated as she yanked at what tethered them. She was tired, but she was also fierce, and she would not let the house separate them now. They had to move fast, and she had to do her part, no matter how hard. They reluctantly reentered the basement, and carefully filled their pillowcases with each container. They left the basement angry that one human being can be so cruel and brutal to another and sorrowful for the people that they now carried in what amounted to a haunted apocalypse body bag. After they left the basement for a final time, they added an extra dose of salt it just in case.
Rick and Michonne, still bound to each other with their own rope, went back into the den to retrieve the rope Rick had strengthened and knotted to look like a climbing rope you would see in a middle school gym. The rope was long enough so that it could be tied to the heavy alter in the prayer room. They planned to move the alter closer to the window to both secure it to hold their weight and for the rope to hang closer to the ground below. This rope held the last of their faith that they will be able to climb down and out of that hell they have been living in the last seven days. Rick also grabbed some duct tape which perplexed Michonne but did not care or have the time to ask about it. The plan was to throw the bones out of the window and then climb down the rope themselves, to what they hoped was freedom.
As they made their way out of the den, the atmosphere of the house shifted again, for the worse. They felt eyes on them. Like the house was watching. Like Wilfred was watching. The path to the prayer room would not be as easy to get to as they thought. Wilfred was stronger now, and he was using the house to block their path. With the rope circled around ricks shoulders, he grabbed four of the bags and Michonne grabbed the other four and they made their way out of the den. As soon as they left the room, a gust of the most foul-smelling air invaded their nostrils, it was almost enough to cause a normal person to pass out. But Rick and Michonne were not normal. They were Badass and Savage. They were Colt and Katana. So, they forged ahead despite the sickening assault on their senses.
When they reached the stairs, the slime oozing out of the walls was enough to make a person with the most hardened of stomachs lurch. The smell was rancid and Rick and Michonne could not use the wall for leverage, so they tossed the bags of bones over their shoulders and made their way up the steps, their limbs and eyes heavy and tired. The steps started to warp before their eyes, causing them to become disoriented. They both closed their eyes and continued up the steps, after seven days in the house, they knew the count of steps by heart, nineteen. They knew that number by memory and by the time they reached the landing at the top of the stairs, their breath was labored as they refocused their eyes back to the dim lighting. The distortion of the stairs slowed them but did not stop them. It was not a successful trick.
When they strode down the long hallway to the prayer room, they saw every person in those hanging pictures reaching out ready to grab them. Evil, contorted faces with bodies physically half inside and half outside the walls. They had their ghastly limbs stretched out ready to claim their victims' flesh. Michonne handed two of her bags to Rick and placed her remaining two in her left hand. She pulled out her katana, then thought better when she noticed they were not quite corporal. She instead reached inside one of the pillowcases and pulled out her iron shovel and got to work. Despite how tired she was, she swung that iron at the ghostly fiends like she had all the energy in the world and some to spare. Each time she swung, one of those monsters disappeared and Rick was right in-step following right behind her. Once Michonne cleared the path, they tramped to the prayer room, but turned when they heard the door to the master bedroom open. Michonne sat the last two bags down, and still tied to Rick, let loose on the thing that was coming through. This time with her Katana. She cut and sliced Edna until she was no more than wet, slippery, and decomposing pieces of filthy muck on the battered and broken hardwood floor. Edna's eyes still blinking and fingers still moving towards their target that left a trail of goo that caused Rick and Michonne's stomachs to retch. Michonne took her katana and jammed it though the eye as one final FUCK YOU to Edna. Michonne shook the gore off her katana, sheathed it, quickly turned and picked up the pillowcases and moved into the prayer room with Rick and crossing over the salt that lay across the floor where a door once stood. They double salted that entryway too.
When they entered the prayer room, all was quiet and somewhat calm and normal compared what was happening in the rest of the house. Rick and Michonne took this as a win. As they pushed the alter closer to the window, they noticed a thick fog enter the room and blanketing the floor. They guessed the salt did not keep out everything it seemed. They ignored it and kept to their task. They tied the climbing rope to the alter and then Rick broke out the window and threw the rope out of it. It did not quite reach the ground, but it was only about a three feet difference. Rick retied the ropes that connected both himself and Michonne so that there would be less slack between them as they climbed down. Rick grabbed the pillowcases and put all the jars into the same case, and then duct taped the tattered pillows around the pillowcase that held all the jars. Michonne smiled, Rick was thinking smartly, if they just threw the bags out of the window, the jars would shatter. With the pillows tied to the case, it would protect the jars from the fall. After they tied and duct tapped the opening of each pillowcase, they both threw all the bags of bones out of the window. As they were throwing the last case threw the window, Michonne felt something in the fog that now surrounded their feet, touch her. She jumped up and into Ricks arms. Rick kept hold of her and placed her out of the window and held onto her until she securely grabbed hold of the knotted rope and started the climb down. Rick was out right after her. Michonne lost her footing and almost fell, but because they were still tethered to each other, Rick was able to grab hold of the rope around his waist and hold on until she was able to grab the knotted rope again and continue her climb down to safety.
When they both hit the ground, they almost kissed it. But being on the property still felt wrong, even outside the house, like the grass and trees and porch was also tainted and decayed and living. So, they picked up the bags as quickly as they could muster and ran to the street. Once they moved far enough away from the decrepit house, they bent over, hands placed on their knees and tried to catch their breath. The made it out. They were free of the house. Almost. They needed to burn it down, along with the bones of Wilfred and Edna, in order to end this haunted shit and the reign of Wilfred's terror forever. They felt energized and with renewed vigor since stepping off the property and Rick and Michonne ran back to the community. They entered one of the garages and grabbed a bottle of lighter fluid, it was the first flammable liquid they saw. There were no matches, but they always kept some in the cars they drove, so they went to their car to retrieve them. They grabbed the matches from the car and leaving the pillowcases full of bones near the car, they walked back towards the house. Michonne noticed a gasoline canister and pulled Rick along with her to retrieve it. They were too afraid to unhitch themselves from each other just yet. With the lighter fluid in Ricks hand and the half-full gas canister in Michonne's, they went back to the infernal house to set it ablaze.
They don't know how long they stood there and watched the house burn down, but they did hear it scream out in pain. The watched the house contort as if it was trying to get away from the flames that were enveloping it. It was both an amazing and disturbing site to see.
"Rick, we have to go, we can come back another time to make sure it fully burned, but the fire is gonna attract walkers," said Michonne knowing full well she would never, ever come back to this house or community.
Rick nodded and they made their way back to the car and he kept looking back, unable to tear his eyes away. Michonne on the other hand did not, she was already done with the sickening house and did not feel the need to have a last look. They loaded the bones and parts in the back seat of the car and with keys still in the ignition and supplies still in the trunk, they drove away from the flames and from the diabolical house that was almost their demise. Rick looked in the rear-view mirror as they drove off and did not stop watching until the house was no longer in sight.